by L. EE
“I would look ridiculous.” After the second pass around her head, Nia took the ends of the cloth and knotted them beneath her hair.
“It already looked a little ridiculous,” Gail told her in a deliberately quiet voice.
“What?” Nia eyed her suspiciously, but it seemed the makeshift ear muffs were doing their job.
“Nothing,” Gail replied more loudly. “You look great. Now let’s go find your buddy.”
“Thank you.” Nia’s voice was still distrustful, but she smiled when she took Gail’s hand again. “Yes, let’s hurry. I doubt this will be the last danger we face before we find what we’re looking for.”
“You know the best thing about you, princess? You’re such an optimist,” but Nia was already pulling her into the hallway where she had left Arthur.
21
Nia Graves
Nia no longer remembered her mother’s face. At least, not how it had looked outside of photographs. That stiffly smiling or deliberately pensive woman captured in ink and paper hadn’t been her mother. Her mother had been sharp dark eyes, which Nia remembered because they were so unlike her own, and an even sharper tongue. Nia had lived for her praise and gone in fear of her disappointment. She remembered Mother’s strong graceful hands, capable of drawing any spell with precision and skill. She remembered her love of beautiful hats.
But most of all Nia remembered her voice. Mother had possessed few frivolous habits. Her life had revolved around her work. The hours she wasn’t teaching or laboring in the laboratories were spent researching and writing her many articles and books. But sometimes, when she was hard at work practicing spells or organizing her notes, she would sing.
Nia remembered that.
Her mother had taken charge of Nia’s education early, as soon as her potential had been recognized. Nia attended normal classes with the other young magicians during the day, of course, but Mother wanted to make certain that she received enough individual attention. So every night, Mother would take time from her work to hone Nia’s drawing skills. Most children didn’t start drawing in earnest until they were five or six, but Nia was tracing shapes and lines by the time she was two and a half. Her motor skills hadn’t been up to the task, of course, but her mother had displayed uncharacteristic patience, guiding Nia’s small hands with her own. And sometimes she would sing then too. Never entire songs, just snatches of whatever came into her head, but Nia had loved the songs almost as much as she had loved the drawing, almost as much as she had loved sitting in her mother’s lap and being the center of her world for just a little while.
Next to that, the finer details of Mother’s face hardly mattered.
As the memories – and the song from the depths – threatened to overwhelm her again, Nia made herself to focus on the warm grip of Detective Lin’s hand and her need to see Arthur. This place was even more dangerous than she had guessed. She thought she had been careful. She thought she had blocked off every avenue into her mind, but she was quickly learning that her definition of “careful” wasn’t careful enough where Connery was concerned.
They found Arthur huddled against the wall, his head between his hands. Nia dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Arthur.”
His head jerked up. At first he stared like he didn’t know her, then he blinked and his eyes cleared. “Nia? You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” It was a lie. There were still tears drying on her cheeks and if she tried, she could still hear the faint strains of – don’t try.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “What’s this?” he asked, plucking at the cloth tied around her head.
“Something to help me focus. We should probably make one for you too.” She looked sadly at what remained of her dressing gown sleeve then held her arm out to Gail. She got the feeling that the detective was laughing at her, but at least she kept her head down to hide it as she tore away the remaining material. Now Nia’s left arm was bare to the shoulder. Perhaps if she cut off the remaining sleeve, the dressing gown could be salvaged as some sort of fashion statement, but she didn’t think she could bring herself to do it. She had become rather attached to her surviving sleeve.
A minute later, Nia finished tying Arthur’s earmuffs under his chin. She looked at him for a moment then covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Shut up.” Arthur rubbed his head through the fabric. “It does help.” He made a face. “As does that terrible spell you did. Honestly, did you have to choose aniseed?”
“I couldn’t think of anything stronger. I suppose I could have used vinegar or bile or –”
Arthur held up a hand. “Never mind. Aniseed is fine.”
“If you two are ready, we’d better keep moving.” Gail pushed herself to her feet and began walking down the hallway. Without letting go of Nia.
Nia had to sit back hard to stop the detective from dragging her off. “Wait! We don’t know if that’s the right way.”
Gail looked back at her. “We don’t?”
“No, I’ll have to redraw the spell and even then –”
“But the basement’s definitely that way.” Gail pointed down the hallway. “I mean, you can see the stairs from here.”
Nia leaned to the side to peer past Gail’s legs, but all she saw was a seemingly endless line of floor lamps.
“I don’t see anything,” Arthur said for her.
Gail looked back down the hallway. “You don’t? They’re definitely there. I mean, I think they are.”
“I wouldn’t trust everything you –” Nia stopped herself. Gail’s eyes looked clear and her grip on Nia’s hand was warm and firm. Not once did her gaze wander toward the stairs while it was all Nia could do to keep from running back to her mother’s song. Arthur looked similarly on edge, his hands pressed to his ears over the makeshift earmuffs. It seemed Gail was the only one of them who wasn’t affected. It was as if –
“What do you hear?” Nia asked her.
“Huh?”
“Down there, at the bottom of the stairs.” Don’t try, don’t try. “What do you hear? I mean, unless it’s too…”
To her surprise, Gail smiled at her. “I’m not hearing what you two are, that’s for sure. I don’t think it works on me.” Something sad darkened the curve of her grin. “I’m pretty sure I know what I would be hearing if it did.” She shrugged. “All I hear is the footsteps of something we probably don’t want to meet. Mostly because I think it’ll try to eat us.”
Arthur looked sharply back at the stairs.
“So,” Gail continued. “I think we’d better get going before it gets here.”
Nia had no idea why the illusion was suddenly failing for Gail, but she would be an idiot not to take advantage of the opportunity. She took hold of one of Arthur’s hands and together, they got to their feet. “Lead the way, detective. Our lives and the success of our mission are in your hands.”
Gail pulled a face. “You had to put the pressure on, didn’t you?” But she turned and started down the hall again, occasionally walking straight through lamps. Finally, Nia just shut her eyes to block out the confusing visual input and told Arthur to do the same.
But even as they left the staircase behind, she swore she could hear Mother’s song floating up from the blackness, now accompanied by soft heaving sobs.
22
Nia Graves
When Gail stopped suddenly Nia’s eyes instinctively fluttered open and she had to clench them closed again when all she could see around her were hallways and staircases climbing and diving at impossible angles.
Arthur moaned softly and she knew he was having the same problem.
“What is it?” said Gail.
“Why did we stop?” Nia took a deep breath to calm the lurching in her stomach.
“It’s dark here. I want to make sure we don’t break our necks going down the stairs.”
“Which stairs?” said Arthur. There was a soft thud which Nia took to be him bracing himself against the wall. T
hat was a good idea, the reality of the wall would ground him in space despite the mad views presented by the illusion, but Nia couldn’t make herself do the same. She was too certain that she would reach out and find just empty air.
“The only stairs, doc,” Gail replied. “They’re steep and I don’t like going down them without light.”
“Wait a moment, and I can draw you a –” But when Nia opened her eyes to pull the notebook from her pocket, her gaze landed on the floor beneath her – what little of it there was. To her perception, she was balancing on a tiny inch of floor, hardly wider than her feet, and below her was a bottomless pit. Furniture, windows, and lamps all fell with unnatural slowness into an endless abyss.
She froze, hardly daring to breathe in case the tiny movement threw her off balance and sent her plummeting into the pit.
And faintly through the silk wrapped over her ears, she could hear –
A warm arm slid over her shoulders.
Gail was looking at her with concern. “Are you okay, princess?”
For a moment, Nia was comforted by the lack of fear in Gail’s face, but then she saw that Gail was perched on the back of a chair that was balanced precariously on the corner of a dresser, which in turn was just moments away from sliding down an incline and falling –
She closed her eyes again, but it was too late. She felt herself sway and was sure she would fall and fall and never hit bottom, all the while hearing –
Instead she bumped into Gail’s side, head knocking against her jaw hard enough to make the detective say, “Ow. Sheesh, I don’t know why I worried about that bump you took. Your head’s hard as a rock.”
In her surprise, Nia almost opened her eyes again – some instincts were very hard to override – but before she could, a hand covered them.
“I’m guessing that whatever you two are seeing right now is bad news.” Gail’s voice was muffled by the cloth shielding Nia’s ears, but her breath was warm against her face.
“If by ‘bad news’ you mean it’s going to make me sick then yes,” said Arthur.
“I was just going to make some light for you.” Without wanting to, Nia remembered the towers of furniture seconds from falling into the abyss and clutched instinctively at Gail.
“You’re all right – oof! Easy, doc. You’re both all right. You don’t have to be scared.”
“I am not scared. The illusion is simply – unsettling.”
“I’m scared,” Arthur put in helpfully.
“Shouldn’t your spells have stopped you from being affected by this?”
“I had believed so, but the illusion is stronger than I thought. It’s shifting, which makes it hard to pin down with a protection spell. Connery must have specifically designed it this way to make it hard to fight.” Nia couldn’t help thinking about what would have happened if she had been here alone. None of the projected outcomes were good.
“Is this another one of those things where if we find Connery, it’ll stop?”
“Yes. Whatever piece of Mister Connery is here will be the center of the illusion and once we take possession of it, the illusion will have no further reason to exist.”
“I guess we better get down these stairs then. I don’t need the light. You two just be careful. I’ll tell you when to step, so don’t –” Gail’s voice cut off suddenly and Nia felt her chin brush over the top of her head as she looked behind them. For several seconds, all was tense, listening silence.
Through her earmuffs, Nia could only hear the muffled roar of her own blood. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Gail gave Nia’s shoulder a quick squeeze then slipped out of her grip to take her hand again. “Let’s just get this over with before anything else goes wrong. Remember, don’t step until I say so.”
They made slow progress down the stairs. Sometimes Arthur and Nia had to wait, huddled together, for several seconds while Gail scouted out the next few steps to make sure that they “hadn’t disappeared or caught fire or turned into worms or something.”
Once, while they waited for Gail to return from one such reconnaissance mission, Arthur leaned in and whispered, “What’s going on with her?”
Not willing to admit that she had absolutely no idea, Nia said, “She seems to have a knack for seeing through the magic. Perhaps her down-to-earth nature keeps her grounded in reality. Or perhaps her mind has held the clarity spell better than ours. It’s impossible to say for sure, some people are just… Well, everyone has talents, don’t they?”
The answering silence suggested that Arthur found her theory less than satisfactory.
“I will have to do more research,” she added quickly. “But our first order of business is finding Connery and getting away from here.”
“Well, I hope we manage that soon. I don’t know if she’s got special talents or not, but this can’t be good for her. She’s a layman, Nia. They’re not supposed to be around this much magic. Even I know that.”
“Who’s not supposed to what?” asked Gail, but before Nia could come up with a clumsy lie, she took their hands again. “Two steps down this time, okay? One and two. Good. Now, hold on one more sec, I think we’re almost there.”
When Gail had moved away again, Arthur said, “Is there any way you could get just her out? She’s already been exposed to a lot of magic in the last twenty-four hours. I’m not looking forward to explaining to the Directors why their favorite PI is magic-addled.”
You wouldn’t have to explain anything, Nia thought, but she managed to hold on to her temper. “She seems to be dealing with the effects just fine, and even if there was a way to individually remove her from the illusion, how would we find our way without her? You said yourself even opening your eyes was making you sick.”
Arthur didn’t say anything right away. Then he sighed and said, “I suppose you’re right.”
Of course, I’m right. But for once that didn’t make her feel any better.
“I found the door!” Gail declared triumphantly when she returned. “It’s locked, though. And possibly covered in spiders, but I only saw them for a second, so I’m not sure how real they were.”
“Saw?” This time Nia managed to hold her eyes closed despite her curiosity. “Is there light down there?”
“Yep! Well, just two lamps by the door.” She took their hands again. “There’s about ten more steps. We should be able to do them in one go.”
They were indeed and Nia only stumbled once near the end. When she caught herself against the door with her free hand, something hairy and many-legged scurried across her fingers. She drew her hand back with a shriek of disgust. Then, done with being frightened by Connery’s tricks, she opened her eyes.
They had left the stomach-turning abyss behind them, but in the orange light cast by the two lamps on either side of the door, Nia could see that Gail had not been mistaken. The door was a mass of spider web. Brown and black spiders, some as big as Nia’s hand scuttled across it. A few were clustered hungrily around something that looked like it had once been a small cat.
“Can we open our eyes yet?” asked Arthur.
“You probably don’t want to,” Nia answered, watching as a particularly large spider killed another in a squabble over the mummified cat and immediately began devouring the loser.
“Why not –” Arthur jerked backwards with a hiss of disgust.
“I warned you.”
“I take it you still see spiders then?” Gail squinted at the door with her hands on her hips. “I thought I saw them at first, but it’s just a door now.” She glanced at Nia curiously. “Could they hurt me?”
“No, not if you don’t see them. They’re outside of your perception and you’re outside of theirs. You could open the door and they wouldn’t react at all.” Not even that particularly ugly bristly fellow crouched on the doorknob.
“Hm,” said Gail. “Too bad it’s locked then.”
“Yes,” Nia agreed with a sigh. Gail’s ability to bypass the spiders was useless if the door woul
dn’t open and she had a feeling that if either she or Arthur attempted to open the door they would be overwhelmed by hungry arachnids.
“I know there’s a spell for unlocking doors. You used it yesterday.” Gail tapped thoughtfully on the cobweb shrouded door and a spider scuttled out from under her knuckle. Another crawled across her wrist before she pulled back, but neither the detective nor the spider seemed aware of their interaction.
“Yes, there is, but…” There was a solution, of course. Perhaps it was the only solution, but it was risky, especially after yesterday. Could she really ask –
“Let me guess, you need to put the spell on the door, but you can’t because of the spiders.”
“Yes,” Nia was forced to admit. “You’re entirely right.” It was possible, she knew, to draw a spell, power it, and then –
“Could I do it?”
Nia started. “Please, detective, I’m trying to think.” And it’s very distracting when you keep voicing my thoughts before I get a chance to finish them. It also made it that much harder to find a valid excuse not to do what Gail suggested. Yes, once a spell was drawn and powered anyone, even a layman, could trigger it. That was likely how Connery’s associates had hidden him in the first place, but it wasn’t safe. The layman was exposed to a small amount of magic for every spell they triggered. A small unlocking spell wouldn’t release much, but Gail had already been exposed to a massive amounts of magic in the past two days.
Too much, a voice in her head reminded her and she wasn’t sure if it was Arthur’s or her own. But she couldn’t think of any other way. She glanced at Arthur, but his attention was focused on the spiders, one of which seemed to have taken a dislike to him and was waving two barbed legs threateningly in his direction.
You shouldn’t be looking to him for help anyway, she reminded herself. You’re the magician in charge of this case. The decision and the consequences are yours to bear. “Excuse me, detective, I was woolgathering, but yes. Yes, I think that would be best.” She took out the notebook again and drew the unlocking spell. She deliberately kept the lines as thick and dark as possible, hoping to stop as much magic as possible from passing into Gail. It wouldn’t be perfect; it couldn’t be and still function, but it would help. She hoped.