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The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans

Page 30

by Crook, Amy


  The world went black.

  CHAPTER 21

  Julian woke all at once to find himself sitting in the middle of a parking lot not too far from their apartment. His limbs felt heavy and distant, and his head muzzy, so Julian started by using his eyes and ears. The little lot was hidden behind a couple of for-rent storefronts, but he knew the landmarks around them well enough to orient himself. Dirt and trash had been swept to one side of the cracked pavement, and Julian sat propped up against the side of the man’s car, posed like an awkward doll. The sun didn’t seem to have travelled much toward noon, so he didn’t think he’d been out long, and he could hear the sounds of the city nearby, people bustling through their morning with no idea of what was going on.

  Julian finally recognised the man as the cranky customer who’d made Julian carry his box of plants out to his car. Julian felt like an idiot for not realising sooner that he’d been after Julian’s hair, and not his wallet. The man was mumbling to himself as he worked in one corner of the lot, the grass doll set to one side as he fiddled with the potted plants he was setting out in no order that Julian could discern.

  Julian found that he could move his body a little, but any attempt to go too fast or stand up made him dizzy. He didn’t have his phone on him; it had been on the table after Father Stephen had called to check up on them. He didn’t even have proper shoes, just his house slippers and the dressing gown that was already too warm out here under the August sunshine. He was obscurely glad that Alys had taken his hedgehog slippers for repair, and he hoped he’d live long enough to wear them again.

  Well, he couldn’t do much about what he didn’t have, so Julian assessed instead what he did have. He had some movement; he had his new amulet; he had the energy reserves they’d all given him yesterday and today; and he had his new, broadened magic sense.

  Julian put that sense to work, sending his attention inward first, trying to feel the place where the controlling magic was sneaking past the amulet and his own meagre defences. He found and gathered up all the magic that was not-him, identifying each little bit of otherness and trying to layer it as it had been during his purification. He surrounded his heart’s magic with the feeling of Alex, and had everyone else radiating outward in thinner and sparser layers while he looked for the thing that wasn’t from any of his friends.

  It was hard work to manipulate magic that wasn’t his own without taking the time to make it his own. After a seemingly endless amount of concentration, something unexpected happened. The shells of not-his-magic solidified enough to form a true barrier between his own magic and the world, and he felt the controlling spell fall away like cutting the strings on a marionette. Life flooded back into his numb limbs, and his head began to clear.

  Julian immediately opened his eyes and looked over at his kidnapper, but the man paid him no attention at all, instead making minute adjustments in the arrangement of his pots. Julian took a moment to fix the configuration of magics inside him as best he could, and then he sent his senses out in little tendrils like roots, searching for anything that might help him. He felt the little doll trying to latch onto one of the tendrils and he pulled that one back, only to have another one get zapped by a jolt of power so pure it was like plunging his hand into a frozen lake.

  That zap was enough to push the last of the spell-fog away from his senses, and Julian gathered his strength and pushed off the car, running through the pattern the man was making, snatching up the doll and scattering the plants. Julian had a flash of guilt as he kicked his way through the pots, zigzagging to avoid the grasping hands of his kidnapper. Julian pushed his worry for the plants aside and concentrated on running flat out toward the corner of the parking lot that looked most like an exit.

  His slippers slapped against the cracked pavement, barely padding Julian’s feet against the jarring run, but he didn’t slow or look back, instead rabbiting back and forth to try to evade any pursuit. He heard cursing and more smashing behind him, and he wished he hadn’t been so drained lately. As if in answer to that, he got another jolt of that cold, pure energy that put a little more speed in his step. He made it across the parking lot, which had seemed a lot smaller when he started running, and dashed into the alley between buildings, only to come up against an old-fashioned iron gate with a brand new chain and padlock on it.

  Julian kept his grip on the doll, turning to see if his kidnapper would pursue him down the alley. He didn’t dare try to climb the gate if the man was right behind him, wishing not for the first time that he was more Alex’s lanky height than his own smaller stature. A clatter made Julian turn back and look up.

  “Horace! You wonderful creature, you,” said Julian, stuffing the little grass figure into his pocket. “I wish you could pick locks, but at least you can tell the others where I am.”

  Horace gave Julian a look, and Julian got a clear burst of pride with a touch of slyness as he flew down to the chain and stuck his metal beak into the lock. There was a little twitter, a burst of magic, and a click, and the lock came open.

  “Oh, you are the most useful bird in the world,” said Julian, undoing the lock and chain as fast as he could.

  “Oh, no you don’t, poppet!” came the kidnapper’s voice, but Julian and Horace slipped out of the gate before he could reach them. Julian ran, Horace flying ahead, finding himself on a quiet side street with busy foot traffic just a short way away on the main thoroughfare, going into and out of the Underground station. He heard the gate creaking behind him, the chain rattling to the ground, but he kept running flat out, hoping his pursuer wouldn’t follow him into the crowd.

  Julian made a mental note to do more training with Lapointe, finding it much harder to sprint a second time. He could hear pursuing footsteps behind him, coming closer. The sidewalk here was slightly uneven, and he had to pay attention to where he was putting his feet, feeling the magic in his protection charm working overtime to keep him upright. It finally gave out when fingers closed over the back of his robe and he tripped, letting out a shout of pain as his knee and hand impacted with the unforgiving concrete.

  Julian struggled, kicking out, yelling for help and trying to keep the pocket with its precious doll away from the man’s grabbing hands.

  “I’ll make use of you yet, poppet, you’ve not spoiled it all,” he said as he tried to force Julian upright, using his superior weight and reach to overcome the rather pathetic resistance Julian was able to muster, after his two exhausting sprints. “No one here will mind about you, no one ever minds in the city, they mind their own business and let everything else go to rot.” The man’s voice was vicious at the end of his tirade, full of old anger.

  “A few of us still pay attention,” said an unfamiliar voice, and Julian took advantage of his captor’s moment of surprise to slip away, stumbling pathetically to his feet. A uniformed police officer was standing in front of him with Horace on his shoulder, and Julian felt a huge flood of relief when he saw the man had a gun pointed squarely at the kidnapper.

  “Please, he kidnapped me, you have to help,” said Julian. “Call Agent Lapointe or…”

  “It’s okay,” said the officer. “You’re Julian St. Albans, your description just went out and,” he paused to chuckle, “your bird’s, too.” He took one hand off his gun to talk into his radio. “This is Green, I have St. Albans and his bird, need assistance at Dwyer just off Shaftesbury.”

  Julian shuffled until he was behind the officer, his knee aching something fierce, hand cradled against his body. “Horace, can you find Alex for me?” he asked, feeling quite piteous. “I need my Alex.”

  Horace twittered and hopped over to rub against Julian’s cheek, then launched himself into the sky, heading unerringly toward home.

  “Hands on your head,” said Officer Green, shifting back to the two-handed grip on his gun. “That’s it, now kneel, slowly.”

  Julian watched as the older man knelt, looking angry but somehow more sane than he had before, as if he was pulling all the strange
ness inside him and putting on a cloak of normalcy. “Who are you?” asked Julian, frustrated.

  The kidnapper laughed. “You’ll see, it’ll be harder than you think to make anything stick to me.”

  A small crowd was gathering behind them, people having finally noticed the drama, and Julian turned warily to watch their backs while Green kept the kidnapper in his sights. Julian lit up and cried out, “Alex!” when he saw the two Guardians and his beanpole of a boyfriend trying to push through. “James, Jacques, help him.”

  “We will,” said James, slipping through and coming up to stand beside the officer. “I’m James, this is Jacques, we’re here for our Charge.”

  “Good,” said Green, lowering his gun and shaking out his hand while James and Jacques drew their own in eerie synch. “I’ll cuff him.”

  “Be careful, he’s very good at magical subversion,” said Jacques.

  Julian largely ignored the end of their drama, letting Alex sweep him up and kiss him softly. “I thought I’d lost you,” said Alex softly. “Are you okay?”

  “I hurt my knee and my hand when I tripped,” said Julian, “but the spell’s broken, I have the doll so he can’t control me with it again.”

  Officer Green put handcuffs on the man, helping him stand, and Alex’s attention snapped to him. “Fenway?” said Alex in a tone of disbelief.

  “So you do remember the little people,” said Fenway with a sneer. “Too bad you never looked under your nose before I damaged your little poppet.”

  “You know him?” asked Julian, snuggling up to Alex’s side, careful not to take anything but comfort from him, in case his own magic was still tainted somehow.

  “He’s one of the crime scene techs, you might have seen him around the Agency,” said Alex distractedly.

  “Oh! I did, I met him in Lapointe’s office, that day I went in to deal with Fischer without you.” He could only vaguely remember it, muttered words and a limp handshake, but that explained why the man’s face had seemed doubly familiar. “He was at the greenhouse the one day I worked, too, that’s when he got my hair.”

  “I remember seeing his name in the receipts,” said Alex thoughtfully. “He actually got a quicker pass than me, since he bought after the murders instead of before.”

  Fenway snorted. “Who do you think kept putting people on your trail?” he said.

  James came over to see Julian, while Jacques helped Officer Green escort Fenway to a police car. “How’d you get away?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll need to see someone about my knee and hand,” said Julian, holding up his scraped palm, “but I don’t think anything’s broken. Horace helped me escape, I didn’t know you’d taught him to pick locks!”

  Alex looked sheepish. “Only mundane ones, and don’t say that too loudly, it’s not really very legal,” he said, looking around. More police had arrived, and a pair of paramedics were pushing through the crowd toward their little tableau. “Let’s get you looked at.” Alex smirked, then swept Julian up in his arms and carried him over to the parked ambulance, where he used a spell to hold the doors open at the right angle to give them a little more privacy from the onlookers.

  James set himself up to guard them, and soon enough Jacques joined him, the two of them looking serious and dangerous. Only someone who knew them would see the slight chagrin in their faces at having let their Charge get kidnapped in the first place. Alex hovered just out of the way of the paramedics, holding Julian’s uninjured right hand and humming his favourite diagnostic tune. Julian felt the warm little trickle that said Alex was looking him over quite thoroughly indeed, and it relaxed him while the apologetic emergency med tech pulled gravel out of his hand with tweezers.

  Julian’s knee garnered rather more concern, as the thin silk of his pyjamas hadn’t protected it at all, and it had taken the brunt of his weight when he fell.

  “I think we’re going to have to take you in for an x-ray,” said the tech apologetically. “I’ll get the gravel out before we go, but it’s already swelling more than I’d expect if it’s just a scrape.”

  Julian sighed. “Who all can fit in the ambulance?” he asked, gesturing with his now-bandaged hand to Alex, James and Jacques.

  “Oh,” she laughed. “Um, I think everyone, since it’s non-emergency, if the big one rides in front.”

  “It’s protocol for one of us to, anyway,” said Jacques, voice rich with amusement. “Not that there’s a big risk of attack from the front with Fenway off to jail, but that’s how it’s usually done.”

  Soon enough the gravel was out and a saline-soaked pad laid over the top, and everyone climbed in the ambulance while Alex sent a number of texts and calls, and Julian awkwardly sent a few more of his own. The damage had mostly been to the meat of his palm, which made it hard to hold the phone, but he managed to alert Geoff and Thomas to the goings-on by sending a photo of his hand first as an excuse for typos.

  Julian had been concentrating so hard on his own messages that he was surprised to find Dr. Chesterfield waiting for them at the ambulance entrance, looking concerned. “It seems I get to treat your body as well as your magic today, Julian. Alex, there’s already an order for you with the apothecary, if you’ll just go down and donate.”

  Alex laughed. “I should’ve known you’d make me pay for calling you in,” he said, but he sounded cheerful about it. “Will you be all right without me for a little while, love?”

  “Go on, I’ve got my Guardians to hold my hand while they x-ray me,” said Julian, though he claimed a kiss before letting them wheel him away from Alex.

  James did come hold his hand, giving him a wink as his gurney was rolled through the halls. “Full service Guarding,” he teased.

  “Don’t let it get out, or everyone will expect hand-holding,” said Julian, feeling the warmth of James’ magic trickling into him much as Alex’s had. “Does it make your, you know, vision sharper or whatever?”

  “It lets me see more, yes,” said James, sounding amused. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

  Jacques was paying more attention to the corridor than them, which Julian felt was only right. “I hope it was just him, I mean, I like you guys, but I hope we’re done now.”

  “We’re done enough to send your Jones home, I think,” said James, “but Jacques and I will stay until we understand what happened and know you’re really out of danger.”

  Julian felt something inside him unclench and he laughed a little raggedly. “I’m really glad you said that, even if it does mean four people to one bathroom still.”

  “We’d never leave you vulnerable,” said Jacques, as they made it into x-ray. He cleared the rooms and then he and James took up posts by the two doors, looking dangerous and immovable.

  “Well,” said Dr. Chesterfield, “do you think you can move yourself over here, or shall I ask your Guardian to move you?”

  Julian giggled. “If you help, I think I can walk,” he said, though the wobbly way his knee felt when he moved it made him wonder if that was true.

  “I’ll brace you,” said the doctor, coming in on Julian’s injured side and helping him get into the machine.

  A number of uncomfortable-to-painful positions later, and Julian was settled into a wheelchair that Alex pushed, so the Guardians could bracket them on their way to a proper room.

  Dr. Chesterfield waved them off, helping the tech get the bulky films ready for developing instead. “I’ll be down soon to start your healing, but they should have something for the pain and swelling once you get down there.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” said Julian with a weak laugh. “I mean, I understand you didn’t want to screw up the imaging, but my knee feels awful.”

  “We’ll take care of you, love,” said Alex, kissing the top of Julian’s head.

  Horace hopped down from where he’d been keeping watch on Jacques’ shoulder and snuggled up in Julian’s lap, chirping until Julian petted him. Julian put all his attention on the bird, and the comforting prese
nce of Alex at his back, and not on the strange feeling of being pushed in the chair, or the increasingly nauseating waves of pain coming off his injured knee.

  “I’m sorry we let you get hurt,” said James quietly, once Julian was settled into a private room with some pain pills and a cup of awful hospital tea.

  “It’s not your fault,” said Julian, still petting Horace. “I think he focuses on my magic, and not me or my person, somehow, I can’t really explain it, but the doll slipped through everything because it was made of me, a little.”

  “You put a little of yourself in the bindweed and wormwood seeds,” said Alex thoughtfully. “And having your hair would have helped with that sort of magic, even after my spell.” He kissed Julian’s hair and cradled him close, having quite shamelessly joined him on the bed, though on the side with the uninjured knee.

  “Do you still have the doll?” asked Jacques. “We should see if we can safely disassemble it.”

  “Doesn’t Murielle have to photograph it first or something?” asked Julian, hand going to the pocket where the doll was still nestled. “I would like it destroyed safely and soon, though.”

  “We do have to catalog it for evidence,” said Lapointe, slipping past James and into the room. “But I already have permission to let your Guardians destroy it rather than taking it into evidence, since you were found by a neutral officer of the law fleeing pursuit from your kidnapper.”

  “Good,” said all the men in unison, which made her laugh.

  “What other news do you have? Is Officer Green okay?” asked Julian, trying to take his mind off his own pain until the pills could start working.

  “Green is fine, Fenway didn’t manage to influence him, though Green reported that he talked at him the whole way to magical custody,” said Lapointe, taking the visitor’s chair with a soft, weary sigh. “Said he was a weird mix of boring and crazy.”

  “I don’t suppose he gave a villain monologue?” asked Alex. “I still have no idea what he was up to.”

  Lapointe chuckled. “Apparently not, though they are asking when you can go look over the scene, apparently he was setting up some sort of ritual in a parking lot?”

 

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