Death Magic wotl-8

by Eileen Wilks

  “Ah. Hmm.”

  Behind her Rule said, “How bad are you hurt?”

  Cullen’s voice was strong enough, though the words were a bit slurred. “Tell ’em to—”

  “Cullen,” Rule repeated with a new note in his voice, “how bad are you hurt?”

  A second’s silence, then: “Feet, ankles, lower calves. That would be roughly nine percent of my body, so it’s not too bad. Third degree on my feet. I can’t feel ’em. I sucked down some smoke, but that’s pretty much cleared up.”

  Lily caught Scott’s voice, quietly repeating that to Cynna.

  “All right,” Rule said. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “Battery’s dead. I need you to stop them.”

  “Stop who from what?”

  “No water. Water ruins books. And the elemental doesn’t like it. Fire doesn’t bother it, but it hates water. That’s why it—you stay back.” He pointed.

  Lily looked over her shoulder in time to see a thin stream of fire dance on the ground in front of the captain. The man backed up. Quickly.

  “We’re going to have to shoot your sorry ass if you don’t quit that,” the captain growled. “You’re in enough trouble already. You’re hurt. Let us help you down.”

  “No.”

  The EMTs were loading Fagin onto the gurney. He hissed and muttered as he was shifted, but didn’t seem to be in shock. Lily moved off the porch so she could see Cullen with his dangling, blackened feet glowering down at Rule. “No firemen,” he said. “No water.”

  Rule said, “You put out the fire?”

  “Fagin’s elemental isn’t fast enough. Earth elemental, y’know. Not quick. So I did it.”

  “And you’re sure there is no ember, no tiny trace of anything smoldering?”

  Cullen was scornful. “’Course I’m sure. It’s Fagin’s library . The bastards firebombed his bloody library. Bloody damned irreplaceable shit in Fagin’s library.” He scowled in contemplation of the magnitude of this offense, then added as an afterthought, “And there’s the elemental. Doesn’t like water. Might hurt someone. Can’t let it hurt them, can I?”

  Fagin—who’d finally allowed them to put the oxygen mask on and was being wheeled away to the nearest ambulance—pulled the mask down again. “No hosing the house,” he ordered, then coughed some more.

  Lily glanced back at him. “I’ll take care of it. Keep your oxygen mask on and behave.” She pulled out her ID once more. “Captain, may I have a word with you?”

  It helped that the captain was basically a reasonable man. He was royally pissed at Cullen, of course, but when Lily explained who Fagin was and that his library might contain documents vital to national security, he was willing to listen. When she told him Cullen was Fire-Gifted and able to put out much larger fires than this had been, he snorted, but kept listening.

  It helped even more when the elemental chimed in.

  She was talking to the captain when she felt it—a vibration groaning up through the soles of her feet. She grabbed the man’s arm. “What the—”

  “Son of a—”

  The rest of the captain’s exclamation was lost in a sudden crack! like a muffled gunshot. The sidewalk near the street buckled. “What the hell?” He glared at Cullen. “I’ve had it with you. Officer—”

  Cullen peered down. “Not me. The elemental. Uh . . . you might want to get your men to back up. Maybe move the truck.”

  Along the street the earth began to crumble up, clods of concrete and dirt clumping together in gravity-defying cohesiveness. Firefighters scrambled back, exclaiming.

  “Is that thing emerging?” Rule asked sharply.

  “Don’t think so,” Cullen said, watching the slow heave of earth with bleary eyes. “But you should get on the porch. Ought to be okay there. It agreed to protect the house. Porch is part of the house.”

  Rule grabbed Lily’s hand and the two of them scrambled up the steps. A second later, Scott landed beside them. He’d jumped.

  “Cullen,” Rule called, “What’s it doing?”

  Cullen’s voice came from above, mixed with the deep grinding of earth as a wall continued to rise along Fagin’s property line. “Not sure. But I was wrong about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s not a small elemental.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  THE problem with earth elementals was that they were very literal.

  A warded wall of dirt and stone, concrete and grass, sticks and boards from the fence that used to divide Fagin’s yard from his neighbor’s now encircled the property. It was roughly four feet wide at the base and nine feet tall. The ward extended above the wall, Cullen had said. It was unlike anything he’d seen.

  The good news was that they didn’t need to worry about firefighters increasing the damage to Fagin’s library with water. They didn’t need to worry about subsequent attacks, either. Nothing was getting across that property line.

  That was also the bad news. Cullen was pretty sure the ward went both ways—keeping things out and keeping them in. He was also pretty sure he didn’t want to test it to find out. He’d said so when Rule retrieved him from the roof—just before he passed out.

  “The Rhej will meet us at Memorial in Bethesda,” Rule said, putting up his phone, “once we’re able to leave.”

  “Bethesda? You’ve got to be kidding. There must be closer hospitals.”

  “All of which consider their facilities inadequate to treat a lupus patient.”

  “Assholes.” Lily leaned her head back against a chunky post holding up the roof over the porch and let her eyes close.

  The air was still and sullen and smelled of burned things: ash and smoke and a whiff of chemical nastiness mixed with the singed-pork stink from Cullen’s burned flesh. The temperature had dropped enough to make her glad for her jacket. Clouds had moved in to dull the day, hanging low as if working themselves up to rain. Three days in a row now it had rained. Surely it couldn’t do it again?

  Against those clouds a red and white mechanical dragonfly darted. Lily could hear the whomp-whomp-whomp of the news helicopter as it dipped closer. She resisted the urge to shoot the bird at the reporters. Not a good image for the six o’clock news.

  There were four of them on this side of the wall: her, Rule, Cullen, and Scott, who’d leaped it before it finished growing, unwilling to leave his Rho without protection. Scott sat on the bottom step frowning at the earthen rampart enclosing them. Rule sat across from Lily near the other pillar. Cullen lay between them in a nest of blankets and pillows that Scott had found in the house.

  Damn them. Whoever they were. Lily didn’t know, couldn’t even guess. Friar’s people were staying so many jumps ahead she was dizzy, furious with her own consistency. Again and again she failed to keep up, much less catch up. Why had they attacked Fagin? Had Fagin even been their target? Why a firebomb, of all things?

  She was just so damn tired. It felt like she’d been up all night or tried to run for miles after fasting. No reserves. “What did you mean when you asked Cullen if the elemental was emerging?” she asked Rule.

  “You know that each type of elemental has a preferred form they take sometimes?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Salamanders, sylphs . . . I can’t remember the other two.”

  “Earth elementals emerge as giant worms or snakes when they want to do battle.”

  “Oh.” She made an effort and got her eyes open. “Guess we should be glad it didn’t emerge, then.”

  She glanced at Cullen, but he hadn’t shifted. When she looked at Rule, she frowned. His eyes looked funny.

  “Are you holding up okay?” he asked.

  “I’m tired, pissed, but my head doesn’t hurt. How about you?”

  “Me?” His eyebrows lifted. “I’m fine.”

  He sounded fine. His body looked loose and relaxed. But his eyes . . . there was too much black in his eyes, she realized. Not a big difference. If you didn’t look closely, you’d think his pupils were sligh
tly enlarged, but she knew better. Black was trying to eat the irises and spread itself out over his eyes.

  The Change. That’s what that meant. When black swallowed Rule’s eyes, he was fighting the Change. But why? They weren’t in immediate danger. And maybe why wasn’t as important as doing something about it. She got up and went to sit beside him. His arm came around her, and she leaned into him.

  If this felt as much better to him as it did to her . . . “Full moon tomorrow night,” she said casually.

  “I’m okay, Lily.”

  When she looked at his eyes, they were normal again. So maybe he was okay, now. She wasn’t sure he had been a minute ago.

  At the moment, he literally had his hands full—one arm around Lily, the other hand resting on Cullen’s shoulder. It allowed Cullen to relax, he’d said. Lily wasn’t sure relax was the right word, but she knew what Rule meant. The contact let Cullen know all the way down that his Lu Nuncio was with him. He didn’t have to fight to retain control of himself or cling to consciousness. He was safe.

  They were, too—as long as they didn’t try to leave. Fortunately, Cullen had told them what to do before unconsciousness claimed him. Call Sherry. Get some of Fagin’s blood.

  Sherry was on her way. Lily was on hold. She put her phone on speaker so she’d hear it when Croft returned and set it in her lap.

  “You think they were after Fagin or Cullen or the library?” she asked. “Cullen thought it was the library.”

  “Hard to guess until we know what Cullen was doing here.”

  “True.”

  Rule never had trouble controlling the Change as full moon drew near. Even on the night of the full moon when, he said, moonsong was so pure and sweet it made a mountain spring seem tainted, he could refuse the Change if he needed to. But it was taking effort for him to hold it off now, with a day still to go. “Rule—”

  “Sorry that took so long,” said a voice from her lap.

  It was Croft. She picked up the phone and took it off speaker. Not that it mattered—Rule would hear both sides of the conversation anyway. “No problem. I’m here.”

  “I’ve got people heading for the hospital to guard Dr. Fagin. One of them will bring you the vial of blood, assuming Fagin gives consent—either Matthew Cates or Royce Richards. Do you know them?”

  “I don’t know Richards. Cates is . . .” She searched her memory. “Late twenties, shaggy hair, very slight charisma Gift?”

  “That’s him. Richards is in his early fifties, brown and black, mustache, small half-moon scar on his jaw. Wiccan with a teleport Gift. Ida is sending you their phone numbers so you can get in touch if you need to.”

  “Any word on Fagin’s condition?”

  “Just that he’s reached the hospital. Do you think Sherry can get you out without Fagin’s presence?”

  “Cullen thought so. Sherry does, too. She knows the specifics of the bargain Fagin has with the elemental. She knows how to contact it.”

  “For which she needs Fagin’s blood.”

  “Apparently.”

  “How’s Seabourne doing?”

  Lily glanced at the pale face of the unconscious man stretched out between her and Rule. Rule had used the pillows to get Cullen’s feet higher than his head. While it was rare for a lupus to go into shock, taking steps to prevent it kept his healing from having to work on that as well as the burns. “Second- and third-degree burns over an estimated nine percent of his body. Breathing shallow, but not labored. He’s hurting, he needs fluids, but he’s lupi. He should be okay.”

  “Good. You’re cleared to collect evidence. Ida is setting up the expert consult you requested.”

  Evidence collection was not Lily’s job. Sure, she’d had training, but a patrol cop’s job was to secure the scene, not wander around picking up cigarette butts. Homicide cops and FBI agents didn’t play CSI, either. There were specialists for that. At the moment, though, Lily was all they had. She wanted help, advice, questions answered. “Thanks.”

  “You should get a call soon about that. Oh, and I’ll have someone waiting to take custody of whatever you collect once you’re able to leave. Hannah, probably. The press is out in force.”

  As if to underline that thought, the news copter dipped close enough for her to see faces and a camera behind the glass bubble. No doubt there were plenty of the earthbound version of the press waiting to pounce on the other side of the barricades the police had set up on Fagin’s street. “You need to tell them to keep their damn helicopter higher. No saying what the elemental might do if it decides they’re a threat.”

  “They’ve been warned. I’ll repeat it. When the press descends on you—”

  “I’m good at ignoring them.”

  “I don’t want you to. Tell them that the elemental is not dangerous as long as it isn’t disturbed. Emphasize the need to keep back. Emphasize that it hasn’t harmed anyone. You can add that we’re pursuing all leads regarding the bombing, and I’ll be giving a press conference at three thirty.”

  “Bless you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sighed. “What the hell was Fagin thinking, dealing with an elemental?”

  Lily didn’t try to answer that one. It was a good question, though, so after she disconnected she repeated it. “What the hell was Fagin thinking?”

  The unconscious man spoke. “Thought it was little.”

  Lily jumped. “You’re awake.”

  “Unfortunately. Thirsty.”

  “I’ve got water,” Rule said. “No, hold still.” He lifted Cullen’s head and shoulders with one arm and held a glass to his lips.

  Cullen drank the entire glassful without opening his eyes. “Ah. Good. That’s good.” Rule lowered him back to flat. “Fagin thought the elemental was little. Sherry probably told him that. I thought so, too. Looked small, not much power. Turns out most of it was asleep. They don’t sleep here.”

  Lily frowned. “Here . . . you mean in our realm?”

  “Yeah. We need Fagin’s computer. I’ve got the journal, but we need the other one. The book.”

  Rule spoke. “What book?”

  “Ars Magicka. A grimoire. By Eberhardus Czypsser.”

  “Gesundheit,” Lily said.

  “It’s in medieval German. The translation’s on Fagin’s computer.”

  “The one on his desk?”

  “Yeah, it . . . shit. Fire’s probably not good for computers.”

  “I’m guessing it isn’t. But—”

  “Original’s in his safety-deposit box. Cambridge. You can get a warrant or something.” His eyes came open, burning blue in his pale face. “I need that book.”

  “I was about to say that Fagin is not an idiot. He’s bound to have backed up his work. Even if he didn’t, it may be possible to recover the data from his hard drive.”

  “Get everything. I need . . .” He winced. His eyes closed again. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Think some of the nerve endings are coming back online.”

  Lily glanced at Rule, who shook his head. “He needs to shut up and rest.”

  “I need,” Cullen said, his voice faint but adamant, “to see that damn grimoire.”

  “Does this have something to do with the dagger?”

  Blue eyes popped open. “That’s mostly Vodun work. I’ve got the reference I need for that. But there’s something else.”

  She waited. When he didn’t continue, she prodded. “What?”

  “Don’t know. It looks almost like elf work, though.”

  “Elf? As in Rethna?”

  “I’m probably wrong. I need to see that grimoire.” His eyes closed again.

  “We’ll work on that,” Lily said. “You called it a bomb. You didn’t see any magic involved?”

  “No. Purely physical stuff.”

  “Okay. Did you see or smell anything I need to know before things went boom?”

  “Two projectiles, one right after the other. First one broke the window. Second one lit everything on fire. Lots of nasty smoke. Smelled . .
. sweet, for a second. Then nasty. Uh . . . like garlic, matches, and smog. Don’t know what else. I was busy.”

  A raspy baritone called from the other side of the wall. “Agent Yu! Ms. O’Shaunessy’s here.”

  The baritone belonged to the police sergeant who was handling crowd control. Lily shoved to her feet. If only she wasn’t so tired . . . tired of trying to do unofficially what she should be investigating with the full force of the Bureau. Tired of keeping secrets from her boss, from everyone. Tired of people she cared about being attacked, hurt, killed. Tired of clandestine organizations and war—God! The war had barely begun and she was so sick of it! Sick as hell, too, of mantles—stupid damn mantles that did what some stupid damn Old One wanted them to do, and never mind who got used up in the process and what that did to Rule.

  Anger smoldered in her at that last thought. It gave her the energy to head for the stupid damn wall.

  “Hey, Sherry,” she called as she drew near the earthen rampart. “Do you have what you’ll need for contacting it?”

  “Except for what only Fagin can provide, yes. I understand that’s on its way.”

  “Should be.”

  “Emily and Kirk are with me. Emily’s a strong Earth-Gifted. Kirk’s Earth Gift is minor, but he’s very skilled. They’ll be handling the contact under my supervision.”

  “Why—oh. Right.” Sherry’s Gift was Water. “The elemental isn’t crazy about water.”

  “I should never have been the one to deal with it in the first place,” Sherry said grimly. “Hubris and stupidity are a bad combination. Can you climb over the wall? Rule said Cullen’s out of commission, but I have some questions you might be able to help with. It would be better if I didn’t have to shout them where prying microphones might hear.”

  “Uh, the ward can’t affect me, but if the elemental decided to drop me in a pit and fling big rocks at me—well, my Gift doesn’t stop rocks.”

  “Of course. Sorry. I’m shook up,” Sherry admitted. “I can’t believe I missed how big this one is.”

  “Cullen missed it, too. He says most of it was asleep, and they—earth elementals—don’t sleep in our realm.”

  “He’s sure of that?” she called, her voice sharp.