The Collected Christopher Connery

by L. EE

  Gail stared at her silently for a long time.

  Nia waited patiently for her reaction. It was probably best to let the detective express her fear and confusion before Nia attempted to explain what was going on. It would be healthier.

  After another moment, Gail pushed herself away from the reception desk and sat down in front of Nia. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What the hell?”

  Nia giggled and Gail looked at her warily.

  “I have another question.”

  “Yes?”

  Gail studied her through narrowed eyes. “Your head’s not going to fly off and start screaming rude things about my mother, is it?”

  “No, of course not,” Nia answered seriously. She held on to the seriousness for another second or so, then her lips twitched upward. “I’ve never met your mother.”

  A tight smile. “Not funny.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Gail rubbed her hands down her face. “But you are you, right? You’re Illuminator Nia Graves, magician assigned to find Christopher Connery and crazy warrior princess?”

  Nia laughed again. “I am Nia Graves, anyway. And you’re Detective Gail Lin, private investigator.”

  “That’s me.” Gail returned her smile then turned to look around. “This place has really been messing with my head. I’ve been trying to get down the stairs for hours. I thought maybe running would help, but –” Her mouth snapped closed and the color drained from her face.

  “What is it?” Nia asked, leaning forward.

  Gail’s eyes closed tightly and she swallowed hard before answering. When she finally spoke, her voice was carefully steady. “It’s not actually raining, right?”

  Nia blinked. “Raining? No, of course it’s not.”

  “Good to know.” But Gail’s eyes were still closed and her hands were clenched into tight fists.

  Rain? Why is she so frightened of rain? Then Nia chastised herself for wondering. Not only was it not her business, but she should be helping Gail, not analyzing her. “Hold on just a moment. I can help.”

  “I would appreciate it,” Gail said in that deliberately calm voice. “I’ve seen this sort of thing before, but never anything so…” She laughed, a small choked sound unlike anything Nia had yet heard from her.

  Nia bit her lip. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to dispel the illusion completely until we find whatever Connery has hidden here.”

  “Oh. Great.”

  “But I can clear your head a little.”

  “I’d be much obliged.”

  “Just give me a moment.” After squeezing a little more blood into her palm, Nia reached for Gail’s hand. She drew another protection spell onto Gail’s palm, then just for safety’s sake, added a layered clarity spell that should make any personalized illusions seem fake and foolish to Gail’s eyes.

  She was nearly finished when Gail opened her eyes and said, “Holy hell, is that blood?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Nia, putting the final touches on the clarity spell. “It’s only mine.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “I’m sorry, but this is currently the only medium available to me.” When the spell complete, she closed her fingers around Gail’s, shocked at how cold the other woman’s hands were. When she triggered the spell, she felt a flare of warmth against her palm and heard the illusions leave Gail’s mind with a small silvery sound.

  “There,” she said, smiling. “That should help.”

  Warily, Gail looked around then managed a wry smile. “That’s better.” She squeezed Nia’s hand once in gratitude before climbing to her feet. She reached down to help Nia up, making a face when she saw the state of Nia’s injured hand. “Did you cut yourself open on purpose?”

  “I cut my hand open and even that’s an exaggeration. All of my writing implements were stolen. How else was I supposed to do any magic? I can’t carve every single spell into the floor with the scalpel. We’ll be here for years!”

  “So you chose –?” With a disbelieving huff, Gail reached into her pocket and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Use this next time, huh? I guess the evil hotel didn’t think steal this from me.”

  Nia took the pen and paper with a smile, ignoring the twinge of pain in her abused hand. “Technically Arthur stole them, but the crime was doubtlessly committed while he was under the influence of the ‘evil hotel,’ as you put it.” She tucked the pen and notebook into her dressing gown pocket.

  “You’re in your pajamas,” Gail informed her. Then she took hold of Nia’s arm and turned it toward her. “Did you do this too?”

  “No, that was – that was the illusion’s doing.”

  Gail’s eyes flicked back up to hers. “The hotel cut you?”

  “Yes, but I dealt with the threat. Don’t worry!!” Nia fought to keep her voice bright and cheerful to reassure the detective.

  It didn’t work. Gail just raised her eyebrows a bit and said, “At least let me wrap it up for you.”

  “Well, I – all right, if you insist.” Thanks to the pen and paper Gail had given her, she was no longer in dire need of fresh blood and the scratch was beginning to sting. She stood still as Gail tore another strip from her dressing gown and wound it carefully around her wounded upper arm.

  Nia looked sadly at her ragged sleeve. It couldn’t even properly be called a sleeve anymore; really, just a collection of rags. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. She thanked Gail graciously for her help then told her that their next move had to be finding Arthur.

  “I fear he will be having a terrible time.” Nia remembered how horribly real her own visions had appeared and knew it would be even worse for Arthur.

  “I haven’t seen him,” said Gail, “but then I’ve spent most of my time walking down the stairs.” She scanned the dark room slowly then paused. “But if we’re going to start anywhere, over there might be a good place.”

  When Nia came to her shoulder, she saw what Gail meant. The once straight path to the dining room and kitchen had become a twisting labyrinth of tunnels and rickety staircases.

  Nia folded her arms over her chest. “Only one of those ways can be correct.”

  “Yeah, but which one?”

  Nia narrowed her eyes, trying to see past the illusion. She could feel reality hovering just out of her perception, but Connery’s magic was powerful and though she listened with all of her might, the ring of truth kept slipping away before she could pinpoint it.

  Fear closed on Nia’s heart like a fist. “I need to find Arthur,” she said again as though saying it would make it possible. “He’s not equipped to deal with such hostile magic.” She thought of the false Arthur with his empty eyes. How long would it take for the real Arthur to become like that, all sense stripped away?

  Gail nodded seriously. “I follow you, but we need to get through there first.”

  Nia shook her head slightly as she wracked her mind for a solution. Forcing the false paths to condense into one would require too much time and energy, but if she could map a way to Arthur, search for him specifically, then maybe…

  As she pulled out Arthur’s bloodstained razor, Gail said, “Oh, not that again,” but Nia ignored her and placed the razor on the floor. Thankfully, since the razor belonged to Arthur and was already covered in Nia’s blood, she wouldn’t have to do any more damage to her hand. Sketching a spell on a page from Gail’s notebook and sliding it underneath the razor was more than sufficient and almost before she was done, the razor was wobbling in place, eager to point the way.

  Nia picked it up again, smiling as she felt it tugging at her arm. “There we go. This should show us the way.”

  Gail looked at the bloody razor doubtfully, but just shrugged and said, “All right, lead the way.”

  And together they started down the first of the impossible staircases.

  18

  Nia Graves

  Traveling through illusions wa
s always a strange experience. It had been part of Nia’s training naturally, but one never entirely grew used to the feeling of moving downward while knowing with absolute certainty that one was actually traveling straight ahead or the disjointed timeless feeling of a journey that should have taken thirty seconds taking what felt close to an hour.

  But illusions are labyrinths that intersect with reality at specific points, and Nia would travel as far as she had to in order to find the point she needed.

  Gail stayed silent as they walked, glancing warily into the darkness behind them every now and again as though she could hear something following.

  Nia hoped the spell keeping Gail’s mind free of illusions would hold. Laymen’s minds interacted with illusions in complex ways. Sometimes they failed to take hold at all and other times, they would completely overwhelm the layman’s mind, leaving them with permanent mental scars. It varied from layman to layman and illusion to illusion. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Gail replied, voice remarkably steady. She increased her pace a little and was walking beside Nia when the stairs finally came to an end and widened into another dark hallway. The fear in her face had been replaced with comically mild curiosity.

  “I have to hand it to Connery,” she said. “He’s a whiz with lighting. He should go into making movies.”

  Nia laughed.

  Finally, after what felt like a thousand more twists and turns, they found the doorway to the dining room. It seemed to hover alone in the darkness, but when Nia stepped through it, everything snapped back to normal. It was still dark, of course, and eerily silent, but the world seemed to have more or less settled back into the picture that Nia remembered from the last time she had been in this room.

  Of course, this aura of truth might only serve to make the illusions more compelling. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. “Arthur?”

  “Hey, Mr. Graves!” Gail added. “Are you here?”

  The only answer was a glass shattering on the other side of the room.

  “Over there.” As they both raced in the direction Gail indicated, Nia hoped desperately that she had made it in time, that Arthur hadn’t –

  She rounded the table just in time to see Arthur about to stab a shard of broken glass into his throat.

  Moving with incredible quickness, Gail caught his hand and twisted it back, holding on grimly as he struggled.

  “Arthur!” Nia got to her knees in front of him and grasped his shoulders. “Arthur, what are you doing?”

  He twisted his face away from her as he fought to break away from Gail. Thankfully, the detective was strong and one deft twist of Arthur’s wrist froze him in place, chest heaving with shallow panicked breaths.

  “Arthur, calm down, please,” Nia tried to keep her voice level, though it frightened her to see him so out of control. She only remembered seeing him this distressed once before, years and years ago. She hadn’t been able to look at him then, it had been so awful. “Arthur, it’s all right, whatever you’re seeing it’s not real.”

  Arthur’s head swayed slowly back and forth. He still wouldn’t raise his eyes from the carpet. “I don’t – I don’t see anything, I – god, Nia, I can taste – the blood, Nia, all of them. I…”

  Gail looked at Nia, her face full of questions, but Nia had to focus on Arthur. “Whatever you think, it’s not real. This is an illusion, Arthur. It’s another of Connery’s traps. Do you understand me?”

  “But it did happen, Nia, you know it did…”

  Of course that’s what the spell would grasp on to. They always pulled from the subject’s most traumatic memories, the memories that would leave them at their weakest. And Nia knew perfectly well what Arthur’s worst memory was. “Arthur…”

  “You know what they’ll do to me, Nia. I’m sorry, I wanted to be there, I did. I didn’t mean –”

  “Do you want me to let him go?”

  Nia had almost forgotten about Gail. “Yes, please.”

  Gail released Arthur’s arm, and he sagged forward, barely catching himself on his elbows. Gail stepped back and began pacing in a slow circle around the table, monitoring the perimeter like a sentry.

  She’s pretending not to listen, Nia realized and was grateful. Pulling out Gail’s pen, she took Arthur’s free hand in hers and began drawing a circle on the skin.

  “What are you doing?” he asked in a weak tearful voice as she allowed the spell to follow the lines of his palm.

  “Helping you remember.” When the spell was done, she guided Arthur’s hand over his mouth. Pressing her own hand on top of his, she activated the spell.

  Arthur drew back, coughing and sputtering. “What – what the hell was that?” he managed to choke out after a few seconds.

  “A warding spell to keep Connery’s magic out.” Nia felt herself smiling a little. “You won’t be tasting anything but that for a few hours at least.”

  “But what the hell is it?”

  “Aniseed.”

  “Oh, great, thanks.” Arthur ran his hand hard across his mouth then looked up sharply. “What happened?”

  “Another part of Connery is hidden here in the hotel. This time there are illusion spells protecting it. Oh, by the way, do you have his head?”

  Arthur stared at her. “Why would I have his head?”

  Nia frowned. “I’m pretty sure you took it. Are you sure you don’t remember?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I think I would remember if I had Connery’s head.”

  “Hm.” That was unfortunate. Hopefully Arthur hadn’t forgotten it anywhere conspicuous or there might be quite the uproar in the hotel when the illusion broke. She turned and called, “Detective, you don’t see Connery’s head, do you?”

  “Afraid not,” Gail replied. “I found these, though.” She popped up on the other side of the table, holding a fistful of chalk, pens, and pencils.

  “What the –”

  “You must have brought them with you when you left the room,” said Nia as she took the drawing implements from Gail. The head could wait, but at least now she was armed. “Do you remember leaving?”

  Arthur shook his head. “I don’t remember anything after getting up this morning and getting dressed.” He rubbed his chin. “I think I was going to shave, but then –” He raked his hand back through his hair. “But how – how did he know about…?”

  “He didn’t. Connery only created the setting. The magic is designed to cause those affected to project their own – well, that’s just how the magic works. Didn’t you –” Then Nia remembered. Of course Arthur didn’t know how illusions worked. That topic wasn’t covered until their third tier of education, which didn’t start until at least age thirteen. Arthur had been bound at nine. Realizing that he was waiting for her to finish. “Are you all right now? Are you seeing or – perceiving – anything out of the ordinary?”

  Arthur shook his head. “No, I don’t think I ever saw anything, but I honestly can’t remember. I was thinking about shaving and then I was here and tasting...” He shuddered and fell silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he seemed to have regained his composure. “I panicked. I think I was trying to get back to you, but I got turned around in the darkness. I guess I forgot where I was. When I was.”

  Nia nodded slowly.

  Looking down, Arthur nudged the long shard of glass he had dropped with the edge of his shoe. “Was I holding that? I’m lucky I didn’t cut myself.” His head snapped back up. “I didn’t try to hurt you, did I?”

  There was a lump in Nia’s throat, but she managed to keep her voice level when she said, “No, Arthur, you didn’t, but are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”

  Arthur held up his unblemished palm. “Not a scratch.”

  That wouldn’t be true if it had taken us even a moment longer to get to you, but Nia didn’t let those thoughts escape her lips. Arthur was confused and frightened enough already.

  “Though I am apparently going to be tasting nothing but aniseed for the res
t of my life.”

  Nia smiled. “A few hours sounds more likely to me. Now, we have to find Connery. His location will mark the center of the spell and from there, unraveling it will be simple.”

  “All right.” Arthur climbed stiffly to his feet then winced and rubbed his tailbone. “Damn, how long was I sitting here?”

  “Probably about as long as I was walking down the stairs,” said Gail. Then she looked at Nia. “So what’s the plan?”

  Before Nia could answer, the kitchen door began to shake violently on its hinges like someone was slamming against from the other side. Gail clapped a hand to her head, cursing viciously. Nia opened her mouth to ask if she was all right, but then the kitchen door exploded and Nia was thrown into the air, only stopping when she slammed head first into one of the heavy tables.

  19

  Gail Lin

  All told, this day was proving to be even shittier than the last one. Not only was her head suddenly pounding like her brain was a baby bird trying to peck through her skull, but she had just seen Illuminator Graves, their one hope of getting out of this mess, fly across the room like a ragdoll. She dove after her, but was slowed down by her throbbing head and the fact that the dining room had transformed into a miniature hell on earth.

  At least it’s not water, she thought dazedly as she dodged the shimmering red and orange flames. Sweat stuck her shirt to her back and the smoke made her eyes sting, but the rising heat actually helped clear her mind, allowing her to focus on what was important.

  All of them had been knocked across the room, putting some distance between them and the fire, but that gap was closing fast. Arthur got up on his own, no worse for wear, but Nia wasn’t moving. Unfortunately, with the fire raging toward them, there was no time for a gentle rescue. Wrapping her arms around Nia, Gail yanked Nia to her feet. Nia whimpered in protest and Gail let out a long breath. She was alive at least.

  Pulling Nia’s arm around her neck, Gail dragged her toward the labyrinth. She didn’t relish returning to that twisted non-place, but it was better than being burned alive.