The Book of Mayhem

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The Book of Mayhem Page 15

by Melissa McShane


  “Thanks, but I’m not sure I should accept praise just for doing what I swore I’d do.”

  “Keeping an oath under such circumstances is praiseworthy. Will it help at all if I tell you I’m convinced Campbell knew something no one else did?”

  “If it means you’re not out for his blood, then yes, it does.”

  “I think he was on the right track, and Ms. Guittard had something to do with his investigation. I don’t know any more than that yet, but I intend to see if I can pick up the trail where he left off.” He opened the box and took out an enormous gun, with a wide bore and a cartridge thicker than my hand. “Don’t worry, this isn’t a real gun,” he said when he saw my shocked expression. “I think the Ambrosites are right to use tools to extend their fighting capabilities. This affects the nature of my familiar, altering its form to make it more effective against the invaders—and, now, against the serial killer.”

  “Can you turn a familiar against a human? I thought that was impossible.”

  “Impossible for a familiar to attack a human of its own free will. Commanding a familiar to attack…it’s never done, but it’s not impossible. I won’t do it unless it’s a matter of defending myself.”

  “Mr. Washburn, what kind of magus are you?”

  He smiled again. “Wood,” he said. “You won’t have met many of my kind here in the city. We tend to work where there’s plenty of material we have affinity to. But I’ve felt drawn to this fight, and I believe in never turning down a challenge when there’s need.”

  Distantly, I heard the bells jingle. “I have to go,” I said, “but…thank you. For not being irrational.”

  “I’m not sure I deserve thanks for doing what I swore I’d do,” Washburn said with a wink. I laughed and ran up the stairs.

  I met Judy at the break room door. “You came back,” I said.

  She nodded. “I’m…sorry. You were…right.”

  It sounded like something was dragging the words out of her. “Right about what?” I said, still feeling miffed.

  Judy rolled her eyes. “About my not being impartial, all right? But I don’t think you understand how much I cared about Amber. I want her killer brought to justice.”

  “And justice is a tribunal where Malcolm can give his reasons. Seriously, Judy, don’t you think it’s a little odd that Malcolm, who has almost no connection to Ms. Guittard, should just up and decide to kill her? I think we don’t know the whole story yet.”

  “Amber would never hurt anyone. Are you suggesting she might have deserved death?”

  “No, of course not.” I couldn’t tell her what Malcolm had said. “But a vendetta killing isn’t the answer.”

  Judy sighed. “Don’t think I won’t pressure Lucia to do her job.”

  “I don’t think she needs the reminder. But I agree. And maybe there’s some way we can help.”

  “How can we help?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said, “but there has to be something.”

  14

  I was impatient for two o’clock to arrive, bringing with it a rush of Ambrosites who, if nothing else, would not want auguries that would help them track down and kill Malcolm. But only a few Wardens showed up, all of them wanting the usual auguries about work and the future and even love. “Where is everyone?” I asked the last man, who was tall and fat and made me feel as if I’d shrunk.

  “Staying home and out of the Nicolliens’ way,” he said in a bass rumble that felt like it should rattle the windows. “There’s no guarantee a Nicollien might not attack an Ambrosite purely at random, just for being an Ambrosite.”

  “Surely they wouldn’t do that. It’s Malcolm they hate.”

  “Rumor is all us Ambrosites want to finally eliminate the Nicolliens, and this is the start of genocide. It’s stupid, of course, but I can’t say as I disagree with the sentiment. Get rid of them, with their deviant ideas and their evil familiars, make magery what it ought to be.”

  “Nicolliens aren’t deviant,” Judy said angrily.

  The man glanced at Judy and dismissed her. “You’re too young to understand the issues.”

  I grabbed Judy’s arm and squeezed until she yelped. “Good luck with your augury,” I said. I held onto Judy until the man left the store. “Sorry about that.”

  “You were right, I was going to start a fight with that goon.” Judy rubbed her arm. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

  “Maybe it can remind you to be self-controlled.”

  “I don’t think I need that kind of reminder.”

  “Listen to this,” Viv called out from somewhere inside the stacks. “‘Thirty-two auguries this morning alone, most asking after matters of the heart. It seems springtime has roused our Wardens’ appetite for love.’ I love the way this guy talks.”

  “Are you reading Silas’s diary? Stop that! It’s my right as custodian.”

  “I think I’m falling in love with him. Was he cute? I bet he was cute.”

  “He was bald, Viv.”

  “Who says bald men can’t be cute? Look at Jason Statham. Look at Dwayne Johnson.”

  “Yul Brynner,” I volunteered.

  “Who?”

  I rolled my eyes. “The Magnificent Seven?”

  “Nobody saw that but you.”

  “That is so not true.”

  “Anyway. The point is, bald men can be incredibly sexy.” Viv came out from between a couple of bookcases and handed the diary to me. “Don’t you have a picture of Silas somewhere?”

  “In the office.”

  Viv darted away. Judy snorted with laughter. “She’s odd,” she said.

  “Enthusiastic. Exuberant. Okay…odd too.”

  The bells jingled. “Hey, Helena,” Derrick said. He was followed by Olivia and Hector.

  “I’m so glad to see you! Has Malcolm contacted you?” I set the diary on the counter and gave Olivia a hug. She smelled like someone who’d slept rough for a couple of nights on the floor of a dirty garage.

  “No. We were hoping…he hasn’t contacted you, has he?”

  “I haven’t heard from him,” I lied, hoping my face wouldn’t give me away.

  “Damn,” Derrick said. “We’re never going to find him if he doesn’t want to be found. About all we know is he hasn’t left the country, and that’s only an educated guess.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because he hasn’t caught this killer yet, and he’ll stick to that no matter how it endangers him,” Olivia said. “I wish he weren’t so stubborn. He needs to go to Lucia and tell her what happened.”

  “So why hasn’t he?” I asked. This duplicity thing was starting to grow on me.

  Derrick shrugged. “Who knows? The last we heard from him, we were all going home for a few hours’ rest. I should have known he had something else in mind from how quick he was to agree to that proposal. Then everything blew to hell and back. There’s just no reason for him to attack Guittard. They barely knew each other.”

  “So you think it wasn’t something personal?”

  “I think it had something to do with the serial killer,” Olivia said, flicking a glare at Derrick. “I just don’t know what. Maybe an illusion that made him believe she was the killer?”

  “Campbell wouldn’t fall for that,” Derrick said, in a weary tone that said they’d had this argument before.

  “Illusions can be powerful. And he’s good, but he’s not infallible.”

  “Enough,” Hector said. He handed me an augury slip. “We need a better lead than guesses.”

  The slip, as I could have predicted, read Where is Malcolm Campbell? “I hope it brings you luck,” I said, and stepped into the oracle.

  The book was right in front of me, as if the oracle was impatient with all the questions and wanted this one over with as soon as possible. I gathered it up, hugging the large atlas to my chest to feel the electric tingle spread through my body. “This could be good news,” I said, offering the book to Hector. “$5000.”

  “It
had better be, at that price,” Hector said, reaching for his wallet. “Come on, you two, pony up.”

  “Judy will write you a receipt,” I said. “Maybe it will be like Silas’s augury, and open to the map that shows where he is.”

  “It’s an atlas of South America, so I doubt it,” Olivia said. She handed Judy a wad of cash. “This was easier when we had Campbell and his sanguinis sapiens fortune.”

  “I always wondered why he has so much of it.”

  “Wardens pay for his security services in raw magic, because it powers so many of the systems.” Derrick watched Judy count the cash, but his attention was on me. “Campbell takes half his own salary in the same because it’s a more universal medium of exchange in our community than cash. He pours a lot of resources into fighting invaders.”

  “Which is why I find it impossible to believe he just murdered Guittard,” Olivia said. “He would never do something that would start a war between the factions. It would weaken our position in the Long War.”

  “I know he had a good reason for what he did,” I declared.

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Olivia said. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately. I guess it’s not impossible that he just snapped. That’s happened before.”

  “But not to someone like Campbell,” Derrick said. “Canales, you have the augury?”

  “I don’t think we should study it on the premises,” Hector said. “Don’t want to put Helena in an awkward position.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You’re probably right.”

  “We’ll let you know when we learn something,” Olivia said with a smile, and the three of them trooped out of the store, letting the door bang shut behind them.

  “I think you know more than you’re letting on,” Judy said.

  “What? Why would you say that?” I tried to keep my composure, but I was sure I looked guilty.

  “You weren’t nearly as frantic about Campbell as I thought you’d be. And you didn’t demand details about what he seemed like when they saw him last. What aren’t you saying?”

  “I just…feel confident they’ll find him, and the truth will vindicate him.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Judy. She wore a skeptical expression and had her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t buy it.”

  “Well, there’s nothing else for sale.”

  “I’m officially in love,” Viv said, dancing past us and snatching Silas’s diary off the counter. “Do you think he would go for a beautiful drummer with a colorful fashion sense and a gift for having fun?”

  “Silas died fifty years ago, Viv. He probably would have thought you have crazy hair.”

  “I don’t think so. He doesn’t seem the conventional type. It’s weird, reading his diary and knowing he’s going to abdicate in a few years. He doesn’t give any hint that he intends to.”

  “I wonder how soon he realized it? He abdicated in 1941, which isn’t in this volume, but in Reflections he said the idea came to him on and off for months before he acted on it.”

  “I still think he was irresponsible to abdicate,” Judy said. “He left the oracle vulnerable for weeks while they searched for a successor.”

  “You have to follow your dreams,” Viv said, “otherwise what’s the point of living?”

  “I believe in being responsible.”

  “Boring.”

  The door jingled. “Thank you for interrupting that conversation,” I said to the woman who entered. “Augury, or safe deposit box?”

  The afternoon passed slowly and yet too quickly. Time dragged between customers, with none of us able to maintain a conversation for more than a minute at a time. I was painfully aware of what I couldn’t tell Judy, and it hampered my desire to speak at all. Occasionally I dipped into Silas’s diary, which despite its light, amused tone dwelt only on mundane matters. Silas’s life as custodian was very much like mine, though he hadn’t had to defend the oracle against giant monsters like puddles of black goo, or fight off a swarm of invaders armed only with a polearm made of rebar. 1937 had been a quiet year, with no hint of the war that was on the horizon, or none that Silas made note of, anyway.

  And yet throughout this long, slow afternoon, I was conscious of six o’clock approaching inexorably, bringing with it the confrontation with Jason. I didn’t know what to say to him. When I’d broken up with Chet, my only other serious boyfriend, he’d burst into tears and made an embarrassing scene, and all I’d done was told him I wasn’t interested in him anymore. This was so much more difficult, and my sense of guilt complicated matters. I’d only been partially joking when I suggested Viv do the breaking up for me. She cared about the men she dated, even when the relationship was over, and she always knew what to say to make the blow less severe. I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t just trample on Jason’s heart like some awkward foal, staggering to find its footing.

  Finally, Judy came past, carrying her purse. “I’ll see you Monday,” she said. “And…thanks for setting me straight.”

  “Good night, Judy. I hope everything’s settled soon. I want you to have justice.” And I want Malcolm vindicated.

  I went upstairs, where Viv was lounging on my couch watching television. “I have to go see Jason now,” I said.

  Viv sat up and turned off the TV. “You want to meet me afterward for dinner?”

  “I…probably. I’ll need someone to remind me I’m not a total bitch.”

  Viv put her arms around me. “You’re not a bitch, and you care enough about Jason not to want him hurt. Just make sure he understands that. After that…you’re not responsible for his reactions. If he gets upset—”

  “And why wouldn’t he?”

  “If he gets upset, that’s his business. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like agree to give it another shot just to make yourself feel less guilty and him feel better. You have this habit of making yourself into the woman your boyfriend thinks you should be. The best thing I can say about Malcolm Campbell is you’ve always been yourself around him. Not that I should encourage you to think about what you can’t have.”

  I nodded. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

  The drive to Jason’s apartment went far too quickly. The grounds crew was busy trimming the hedges when I drove up. Some of the workers were shaping the topiaries on each end to look like bunnies sitting back on their haunches. Usually I found the sight pleasantly whimsical, but tonight all I could think was this was probably the last time I’d see it.

  I knocked on Jason’s door. We hadn’t reached a point in our relationship where I had a key. Maybe that meant Jason wasn’t that attached to me either. Maybe he wouldn’t be too hurt. I felt relieved for about two seconds before guilt set in, guilt that I was trying to find ways to make this less awful. I wiped my hands on my pants. I would just have to be honest, and let Jason worry about his reaction.

  The door opened. “Hey, hon,” Jason said, and kissed me. “Come on in. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “It’s been a couple of days,” I agreed. I followed Jason across the hardwood floor of his front room and sat beside him on his overstuffed couch. His living room was kind of bare, with just the couch and a television hung on the wall above a cabinet holding his cable receiver and an Xbox. He didn’t even have curtains on the huge picture window that looked out on the parking lot, just white wooden slat blinds. Now that I knew what was behind my reluctance, I couldn’t see how I’d ever fooled myself into thinking his place was nicer than mine. Bigger, and more modern, but it lacked heart.

  “You want to go out to dinner?” Jason said. “Or we could stay in, if you’d rather. Order pizza, fool around—”

  “Actually, there’s something we need to talk about.” He always referred to sex as “fooling around.” Maybe that should have been a warning. “It’s important.”

  “You look serious. What’s up?”

  I took a deep breath. Here it came. “We need to break up.”
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  Jason blinked at me, blank and uncomprehending. I could see the moment he understood what I’d said. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “Break up? Why?”

  “Because…” I took another deep breath. “I’m in love with someone else.”

  “Wait—what? Who?”

  “No one you know. A customer at the store. I just don’t think it’s fair to either of us if my heart’s not in this relationship.”

  Jason shot to his feet. “I don’t believe this. I thought we had something special.”

  “Jason, it’s not like I don’t like you. You’re funny, and interesting—”

  “But that’s not enough for you.”

  “No. I’m sorry. You’re a great guy.”

  His jaw went rigid briefly, as if he were swallowing a shout. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better. I’m a great guy.”

  “I don’t know if anything I could say would make you feel better about this. I’m sorry.”

  “How long have you been cheating on me?”

  “What? I’m not cheating on you!” But my cheeks were rosy with memory. Did one kiss, one unreciprocated kiss, count as cheating?

  “Like I’m supposed to believe that. Is he why you never wanted me to come to your apartment? That’s where you meet him?”

  “I don’t meet him anywhere. I just can’t lie to myself anymore.”

  “But you didn’t care about lying to me.” Jason took several angry steps toward the window.

  “I didn’t realize how I felt until last night. He and I aren’t together.”

  “I don’t care.” Jason laughed again, a short mirthless bark. “It’s not like I loved you, you know. You’re cute, and you’re a good lay, but that’s all it ever was between us.”

  “Jason, don’t be a jerk.”

  He spun around to face me. “Did you want me to beg you to change your mind? Take me back? I’ve got more self-respect than that.”

  “No, but don’t act like that.”

  “You’re so big on not lying, well, I’m not going to lie to you so you can get off on my pain. I’m upset, sure, but I’m not going to pretend I’m hurt worse than I am. I don’t need you.”

 

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