She took a wary step backward.
“What will happen to the frost jack?” Rachel’s gaze was still trapped by the swirling fey.
“Och, ’tis bad luck to keep one of the wee folk imprisoned!” said Oonagh. “We just wanted to see it. We’ll be settin’ it free soon enough.”
“Good,” murmured Rachel.
“Let’s go.” Gaius took her hand and squeezed it.
Yanking her gaze away from the bell jar, Rachel smiled up at him and returned the squeeze. Together they continued down the tree-lined path that led through the forest to the docks.
• • •
They reached the ruins of Bannerman’s Castle and walked through the arch and down the stairs toward the snow-covered docks. A tall gentleman in a suit and tie stood beside the dark waters of the Hudson. It took Rachel a moment to recognize Gaius’s friend, William Locke. William looked so distinguished in his business attire, she never would have taken him for a college student.
Gaius greeted his friend with his customary lazy grin, as if he were an amused spectator, casually observing the little dramas of life. Locke towered over him. Yet the older student seemed genuinely pleased to see the younger boy.
“Hello, Miss Griffin.” William Locke turned to her and nodded, inclining an eyebrow in an expression of scientific curiosity. William was an American and sounded like one.
“Hallo, Mr. Locke.” Rachel curtsied, holding the skirts of her black academic robes.
“Any luck?” asked Gaius.
“We were too late.” William bowed his head gravely. Turning to Rachel, he explained, “An Unwary teen disappeared while flying a drone from the west bank of the river.” He gestured to the left at Donahue Memorial Park, an grassy area next to a small marina visible on the far west shore, just north of Storm King Mountain, . “A team from O.I. joined the Agents investigating, so I came out to aid the operation. Sadly, the ogre had already…er…found him.”
“Oh!” Rachel pressed a hand against her mouth, horrified.
She gazed down river curiously, a sudden longing stirring within her breast to see this deadly monster brought to justice.
“Are we here to help catch it?” she asked hopefully.
Her hand inched toward her calling card. An ogre was exactly the kind of opponent for which Sigfried and Lucky had been searching—an enemy that deserved a thrashing, something they could burn with impunity.
“Alas, I fear there is little we can do.” William shook his head. “Even the experts have trouble dealing with that ogre—it leads a charmed life—and they are already on the case.”
“Oh.” Rachel gazed across the river in dismay. She longed to be allowed to join the hunt. The notion of possible danger did not disturb her. If it might save other victims from being devoured, she wanted to help.
“Let us put that sad matter aside, shall we?” continued William. “I believe Mr. Valiant has something special planned for you.”
“For me?” Rachel looked back and forth between the two young men, her disappointment offset by surprise. “Where?”
“Have you jumped before?” Gaius asked, grinning.
“Not by myself,” she replied quickly. “We’re not allowed to jump if we are underage.” The laws against it were very strict.
“But you’ve done it?” asked Gaius.
“You mean with someone else? Loads of times,” said Rachel, “Though most recently going to and from being kidnapped.”
“You won’t be scared? Good.”
“Not jumping with you, no.”
Gaius squeezed her arm and put his other hand on Locke’s shoulder. “Let’s go, William.”
Pure white light flooded everywhere. Rachel could not feel Gaius’s hand or even her own body. Then the light faded, and sensation came flowing back.
It was no longer dark; nor was it snowing. It was early evening. The three of them stood on a street surrounded by rundown Victorian houses. The buildings were windowless and moss-covered. A biting wind swept down the road, carrying the odor of rotting trash. Rachel shivered and stepped closer to Gaius, who put an arm around her shoulder. He and William nodded at each other and began walking forward. Ahead lay a sprawling maroon and blue house with boarded windows. Some inner walls must have collapsed, because the cone-shaped roof of the turret lurched at a disturbing angle.
“Where are we?” Rachel clutched her boyfriend’s arm. “Why is everything so ugly?”
“Detroit,” William stated. “The economy fell apart here some years ago. This section of town was abandoned.”
Rachel looked around. “But…I thought the economic downfall was just a façade, a tale spread around to explain the damage done during the Battle of Detroit.”
“Some of both,” replied William. “A real financial crisis was adopted as the cover story for the devastation.”
“Battle of Detroit?” Gaius looked from one to the other. “Was that recent? We haven’t gotten to the Terrible Years yet in True History. I think that comes next semester.”
Rachel said, “It was the largest battle between the Wise and the Terrible Five, during the Terrible Years. It was a horrid battle. The Wise won but only barely.”
“Was that Egg fellow there? If so, I imagine the battle was truly terrible,” said Gaius.
Rachel shook her head. “Back then Mortimer Egg was just a hapless student who had not yet been possessed by Azrael. The demon was still inside my grandfather’s old friend, Aleister Crowley. If anything, however, Crowley was worse. He had been a superb magician before Azrael possessed him. Egg was just…Egg.”
“Crowley was at the Battle of Detroit,” said William. “He had a dramatic duel with Aurelius MacDannan. They say the whole sky was filled with lightning and darkness and flashes of pure white fire. The other four of the Five Terrible Ones were there, as well: Baba Yaga and her chicken-legged hut destroyed sections of Brush Park. Morgana le Fay and the Morthbrood fought General Ernest O’Keefe and the American Sorcerous Militia in Brightmoor—both the Fifth Thaumaturge Brigade and the First American Enchanters were there. Koschei the Deathless single-handedly defeated the Second Canadian Alchemists, who had come down to help. He devastated the Hamtramck area.”
William gestured off into the distance, perhaps pointing at the neighborhood to which he referred. He continued, “To this day, more than a quarter century later, there are places in Hamtramck where nothing will grow. The leader of the Terrible Five, Simon Magus, arrived with Veltdammerung supporting him—not just cultists, such as Miss Griffin has fought, but the supernatural forces as well: Unseelie, trolls, Jotuns, and the like. It was they who killed the lion’s share of our forces.”
“Who’s Aurelius MacDannan?” asked Gaius.
“Oonagh and Colleen’s grandfather,” said Rachel. “He was a splendid sorcerer. He could do things no one else has ever been able to do, pull lightning out of power lines, for instance. Unfortunately, he died in that duel…killed by Azrael. Or at least, no one ever saw him again.”
William nodded. “A great many people died that day. Three-quarters of the American Wise over the age of twenty-one were killed. My own older brothers and sister died. Siblings I never had a chance to meet.”
“My great-uncle Cadellin died that day as well,” Rachel said softly.
Gaius rocked back on his heels. “I…had no idea it was such a devastating battle.”
William asked, “Have you ever wondered why the American Wise are more modern than the Wise of the rest of the world, who frankly are still living in the Nineteenth Century? Why the Americans are more permissive, more familiar with technology? It’s because of the Battle of Detroit. It killed such a large portion of our older generation that many of our old traditions were lost and much of our former culture.”
“I had no idea,” Gaius repeated, slightly shaken. “In other words, the Battle of Detroit did to the American Wise what World War I did to the English aristocracy?”
“Precisely.” William nodded again. “Ironically, it
was because the American Wise—particularly my father and Iron Moth—had been investigating technology that our side won at all. Our iron weapons gave us an advantage against the Unseelie. It was the only battle of the Terrible Years that the Wise won, other than the final battle at Roanoke.”
“Where my uncle Emrys died.” Shivering from the extreme cold, Rachel looked around at the dilapidated houses. “But then why are we…oh!”
Even before they took another step forward, a smile began tugging at her lips as she anticipated what was to come. Sure enough, as they moved, the obscuration in front of them popped, and the dangerously-listing Victorian mansion vanished, along with the rundown buildings to either side. Instead, before them rose the shining black and silver skyscrapers of Ouroboros Industries.
Chapter Two:
Too Dangerous To Know
The three Roanoke students walked along a shrub-lined path leading between the skyscrapers. It was still bitterly cold, but the wind was not as strong here, making it seem warm in comparison to the street. To the left, sunlight glittered off a gigantic geodesic dome, larger than any mundane sporting stadium.
“What’s that?” Rachel raised her hand to shield her eyes.
“Our degossamerization dome,” replied William.
“Really?” she murmured, sliding her mask of calm into place to keep her eyes from growing as large as saucers.
William looked down at her. “Do you know what degossamerization is? I believe it is not studied until sophomore year.”
“Of course.” Rachel quoted from a dictionary in the library of previously-read books available in her perfect memory. “‘It is the process of bathing an object in the light of the full moon to remove the gossamer-like impermanence of conjured items or alchemical talismans, so as to make them permanent.’”
“Very good.”
“Sandra’s a splendid conjurer, and my mum is a whiz at alchemy. I know all about degossamerization.” With a casual air that required all the dissembling skills she had learned from her mother to achieve, she asked, “I don’t suppose we could have a look?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied William. “The process is proprietary.”
I wager it is, thought Rachel smugly.
She gazed at the dome, but she made sure that William’s face was visible in her peripheral vision so that she would be able to examine his expression later—without tell-tale clues, such as her gaze resting on his face, alerting him to her interest in his reaction.
“Father thinks O.I. bought up moon rocks after the Apollo missions and found a way to use them to perform degossamerization through alchemical infusions.”
“Clever idea.” William stroked his narrow chin thoughtful. “Wonder if it would work.”
“I’ve been quite curious about the magical properties of moon rocks,” Gaius said cheerfully, tossing his chestnut ponytail over his shoulder. “Any chance O.I. could secure one?”
William smiled very slightly. “If you want to experiment on a moon rock, Gaius, I am certain either Vlad or I could procure one for you. Write down a list of the experiments you wish to perform, and we shall see what we can do.”
Gaius looked quite pleased. “I’ll do that.”
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” William strode purposefully into the nearest building.
As they waited for him to return, Rachel leaned toward her boyfriend and whispered, “What are we doing here?”
Gaius gave her a lazy smile that reminded her why she loved him. “I want to show you something. I’ve been working to set this up ever since you told me about how you tried to stop that airplane. But William was busy with the secret project—the one that saved you in Tunis.”
“For which I am very grateful.” Rachel curtsied, lifting the skirts of her robes as she bobbed. Straightening, she asked Gaius, “What is it that you want to show me?”
He grinned widely and drawled, “You’ll see.”
“Oh-kay.”
Her curiosity burned so hot that she wondered if she might spontaneously combust. To distract herself, she stared at the degossamerization dome.
“Impressive building, isn’t it?” asked Gaius, tilting his head back to see the whole geodesic dome. “Biggest degossamerization plant in the world, right?”
“The only one, so far as I know,” she replied.
“Wait.” Gaius frowned. “O.I. isn’t the only company that degossamerizes stuff. We do it at school. Isn’t that why conjuring and alchemy students stay up all night every full moon?”
“Yes. Exactly.” Rachel nodded. “We—and everyone else in the world—do it the old-fashioned way. Depending on how solid you want your talisman to be, it takes thirteen months to get a proper one. Or a great year, if you want a truly smashing one.”
“Great year? Wait. We learned this.” Gaius leaned back on his heels and ran a hand over his hair. “Um…ah! The time it takes for the moon to come back to the same position in the Zodiac, right? About eight normal years to make one great year, if I recall. And if you miss a single full moon…all the work is for naught, right? That must really suck.”
Rachel nodded. “Mr. Fisher lost one of the great talismans he had made for the Six Musketeers—one of the items that had defeated the Terrible Five—that way. He didn’t get it outside under the full moon one month and—poof—the magic was gone.”
“That’s a shame!”
“It is one of the reasons conjurers often study enchantment as well…they want to be able to perform enough weather magic to ensure a clear sky on moonlit nights. Anyway,” Rachel continued with a gesture at the dome, “it takes the rest of us a great year. Yet since the early seventies, Ouroboros Industries had been mass producing magical devices for purchase by the general public.”
“Mass producing…? You mean they use magic to produce their washing machines and vacuums?” asked Gaius.
Rachel shook her head. “No, I mean Flycycles, flying umbrella platforms, and kenomanced bags, such as my friend the princess carries around that has a whole house inside it.”
“Don’t enchanted talismans have to be made one at a time, by hand?”
“Ordinarily. And yet—according to my father—O.I. has demonstrated over and over the ability to respond to market demands and customer complaints in under six months. It’s assumed that they had found a way to use technology to produce moonlight, but no one knew for certain.”
She did not add that even her father, the head of the Wisecraft’s clandestine Shadow Agency, had not been able to figure out their method.
“Under six months instead of eight years!” exclaimed Gaius. “That’s big! I imagine that they can sell a whole lot more enchanted gear than their competitors, right?”
Rachel nodded. “More than that, our current economy relies it taking eight years of cloudless full moons to make conjured gold indistinguishable gold taken from the earth. If they can make all the gold they wanted in a couple of months…”
“They could make a killing and, if they’re not careful, flood the market.”
“Exactly.”
With her gaze resting on the dome’s shining interstices, gleaming in the light of the late afternoon sun, Rachel recalled her recent conversation with William. She slowed down the moment when she mentioned the moon rock. It had been merely an instant, but the corner of her eye had caught a look of scientific curiosity that had flashed across William’s face at the mention of her father’s theory. This meant his interest in her father’s notion had not been a ploy.
Rachel grinned. She had just done what the Wisecraft had not been able to do in over a generation. She had narrowed down the possible options for how Ouroboros Industries performed their mysterious alternate degossamerization process. It was not moon rocks.
She allowed herself a brief, victorious smile. Her father would be impressed…if he ever bothered to notice her. She had been so hopeful when they returned from fighting the demon Morax, two days ago, that she and her father would finally have a chance to sit dow
n and talk. She longed to tell him what had happened to her the previous time she had been kidnapped, when she had saved him from the demon Azrael. Alas, the promised conversation had not occurred.
Father and Sandra, both Agents of the Wisecraft, had spent a long time quietly speaking to each other at the far side of her sister’s flat. Then, before Rachel could have her promised turn with him, he had been called away. Sandra and her mother had tried to make it up to her, but it was not the same.
Rachel thrust aside that sorrow. She had Gaius’s surprise and the trip to Hoddmimir’s Wood to look forward to. No girl could be too sad with the prospect of a journey to the home of the Queen of the Lios Alfar ahead of her—not to mention this mysterious trip of Gaius’s. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, eager to discover the nature of his surprise.
The glass door slid open by some unseen magic. William Locke strode out carrying nametags on lanyards. He handed them to the younger students, and they followed him into the building, showing their new tags to the guard at the door. Once inside, Gaius pulled off his long black academic robe and tossed it over his arm. Underneath, he was wearing jeans, a flannel shirt of Black Watch tartan, and a tan London Fog jacket. Rachel thought he looked rather dashing in his street clothes. She found it a bit unnerving to see him dressed this way, however, like coming upon a boy in his pajamas. She did not remove her robes, but she did shed her red wool coat.
As they walked down the hallway, they passed a large alcove in which rested a wreath surrounded by photos and bouquets of flowers. The photos were all of the same man, showing him smiling and surrounded by family and friends.
Seeing Rachel’s interest, William paused and said, “That is a memorial for Henry Maxwell. The member of our Rapid Response Team who died at Carthage.”
“Do you mean the one who was crushed—” Rachel swallowed, “—when the demon threw him into a column, and it fell on him?”
Locke nodded solemnly.
“I am so sorry,” said Rachel. “The others who were hurt. Did they recover?”
“Two are still in the hospital, but it is believed they will make full recoveries.”
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 2