The Collected Christopher Connery

by L. EE

  The bull came on.

  Damn it, Nia, damn it. Gail was sure she would see the bull’s horn rip Nia from the platform edge and crush her underneath its hooves. There would be nothing left by the time it moved on but blood and broken bones twisted in a pretty green dress.

  Damn it, Nia.

  The bull came on.

  Nia dragged herself up again. Her fingers dug into the concrete. Her belly scraped along the edge. The bull came on. Her knee slipped again, then held on the edge. The bull came on. She threw herself forward, landed on her front, one leg still dangling in the emptiness. The bull came on. Its horns slashed the air, to hook her knee and drag her down. Nia rolled to her side. The bull passed by, bellowing its rage.

  Nia lay curled up like a child, gasping and shaking. Gail’s own heart felt like it had been turned inside out by terror and relief. Damn it, Nia.

  Then slowly, like a rat poking its head from its den after the cat has passed on, Nia unfolded herself until she was sitting on one hip. One hand was braced against the concrete, the other pressed to her breastbone. She gazed around, as though she feared the bull might creep up on her from behind.

  Don’t worry, Nia, you’ll hear it coming. Just stay off the damn –

  “Detective?” she whispered.

  Gail woke cursing on the hotel floor just as Arthur, Xavier, and a bellboy opened the door.

  34

  Nia Graves

  For a long time – later she wouldn’t be able to guess how long – Nia sat on the floor of the Ferris Street station, trying not to burst into tears. She knew it had been a risk to walk on the tracks, but the trains were dead. She had seen a few of them when she had first entered the tunnels. They had been hollowed out, rusted shells, hardly fit to shelter rats.

  Of course she had considered the possibility that a few trains would still be functional, but she hadn’t known they would be so fast. She had imagined the water damage would leave them slow and lurching, able to be heard long before they reached her. The stations in this area weren’t far apart; she would have plenty of time to run to safety, but she wouldn’t have to because the trains were dead, dead, dead…

  She buried her face in her hands, letting out a small choked sob. It wasn’t the first time she had been moments from death. If she were honest, it wasn’t the first time she had been moments from death that week, but something about that horror of sparks and metal bearing down on her. Something about knowing that it would shred her, crush her, and leave almost nothing behind… She shuddered and gripped her arms tightly, trying to hold herself together both inside and out.

  And it would have happened. She would have walked too far and the train would have run her down, except… Except that she had heard Gail’s voice. Not heard perhaps, not properly, but she knew Gail had spoken to her, warned her about the approaching train.

  But how?

  She had no answer.

  The trembling was subsiding a little, so she climbed to her feet. She was grateful for the thick leather strap of her handbag. It had remained hooked over her arm during the hectic climb and all of her supplies were still safe in her bag. To calm herself, she pulled out a piece of chalk and drew a circle on the concrete. She took out the bag of Connery’s hair and sprinkled two strands in the center of the circle.

  She triggered the spell and waited for the tie between her and the distant piece of Connery to form. She had been following the trail for almost three hours. Before the train had nearly run her down, she had been so close that she thought she must be nearly tripping over him, but now he was moving away once more. Well, now she knew for certain how Connery was moving.

  But what could she do? Walking the tracks was clearly out of the question. There were spells she could cast to help her be more aware of the train’s location, but they weren’t foolproof and even if they were, there was still every chance that the train would catch up to her between stations. What she needed was help. She needed the help she had asked the Academy for, but they wouldn’t give it to her.

  She knew there was only one answer. Give up. Find a way back to the street, return to the hotel, and send another message to the Academy, saying “send Illuminator Dani. I wish her luck.” Then she could go home. She would return in disgrace, of course. No one would say so out loud, but everyone would know. She would remain an Illuminator, but would never become a member of the Directors, never again be given an assignment more important than supervising a waterproofing. She would be gently encouraged to spend more time on her research.

  She would be retired by thirty, forgotten by thirty-six. The last word in the Graves’ legacy would be her mother’s mistake.

  Sitting back on the cold concrete, she hid her face in her arms. She couldn’t go on. She couldn’t go back. All she could do was sit in a weak pool of light and wish she weren’t so alone.

  Deep in the tunnels, the train roared and pounded along a lonely stretch of dark track.

  35

  Gail Lin

  When Gail came to, she was being lifted off of the floor. Instinctively, she swung her arm out and felt it connect with a hard jaw. Her aim was off and she only made contact with her forearm and not her elbow, but the person holding her grunted and nearly dropped her. Someone else cursed and grabbed for her flailing arm. That was about when she realized what was going on.

  “I’m fine,” she managed, though her tongue felt thick and clumsy. “Put me down.”

  “You don’t look fine,” Arthur said, but released her arm.

  Xavier was a little more reluctant, but he wasn’t willing to actually restrain her, so it didn’t take much for Gail to pull free and stagger to her feet.

  “Shit,” she hissed, pressing one hand to her head.

  The bellboy standing by the door apparently figured Xavier and Arthur had things under control and backed out of the room. Maybe he took Gail for a belligerent drunk and was happy to have someone else handle her. It didn’t matter. There were more important questions to deal with, such as, “What the hell are you two doing in my room?”

  Arthur and Xavier looked at each other.

  “We came to check on you,” Xavier said at last. “You said you were gonna meet us at one. It’s two now.”

  “Two o’clock?” Giving into her swimming head, Gail sat down on the floor and leaned back against the bed. “I was out that long?”

  “So you did faint?” Arthur asked, suddenly all doc as he knelt beside her and tested her temperature with the back of his hand and felt for the pulse in her neck. “Did you hit your head?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I just – don’t feel so hot.”

  Gail didn’t like the guilty way Arthur’s mouth twisted. It was a look that said, I was worried this might happen. But before Gail could politely inquire why the fuck he was directing that look at her, his attention was distracted by the papers strewn across the floor.

  “What happened here?”

  “I –” Gail glanced at Xavier, who had bent to collect the papers closest to him. “I must have dropped them when I fell. Don’t worry about it, Xavier. It’s nothing important.” The last thing she wanted was to drag Xavier into this insanity, especially not right before he was due to head home.

  Arthur gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Not important? Don’t worry about it? You looked like you were having a seizure –” He shut up when Gail jerked her head in Xavier’s direction and mouthed, Later.

  Hoping to distract Xavier from the papers – and any other mad messages she had scribbled on them while off her head – Gail said, “I hope I didn’t hit you too hard.”

  Setting the papers on the table, Xavier smiled as he rubbed his jaw. “I’ll probably have a bruise, but considering how hard you can hit, I’m lucky it’s not broken.”

  Going over to Xavier, Arthur touched the sore spot himself and shook his head with a scowl. “You should put ice on it.”

  “I’ll do it when I get home. I’ll miss my trolley if I don’t hurry.”

  “If you�
��re not careful, it will swell up like an egg.” Suddenly noticing that he still had his hand pressed against Xavier’s face, Arthur snatched it back and turned away.

  Normally Gail wouldn’t have been able to resist giving him a little good-natured hell for that, but her head hurt too damn much and she needed to talk to Arthur alone about whatever was going on. “You better get going, Xavier. I don’t want you to miss your trolley.”

  He looked at her, face creased with concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you if you’re not feeling well.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve got doc here and if anything gets too bad, Illuminator Graves can always fix me. It’s one of the benefits of working with a magician.”

  That guilty look shadowed Arthur’s face again. It took all the self-control Gail possessed not to grab his shirt and demand he explain himself right fucking then. Instead, she made herself smile. “Go on, Rivers. The kids will be waiting for you.”

  “I told you, school’s out for the season.” But he still picked up his suitcase.

  And Gail knew why. “But you know some of them will still come by.”

  “Yeah.” Xavier looked at the door again, jaw working. “You’ll send me a note when you can, to let me know you’re all right?”

  “Will do.”

  But Xavier still lingered and though Gail truly appreciated his concern, the strain of smiling made her head feel like it was going to split at the seams. “Tell you what? When I’ve got this case closed, I’ll stop by your place. Maybe I’ll even give that lecture you’re always badgering me about.”

  Xavier’s face lit up. “Really? The kids would love it. They’re always asking me –”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it, Xavier, promise.” Gail knew her words were coming out too sharp, but her head just hurt so goddamn much. “But if you don’t hurry, you’ll be walking home.”

  “Right.” The smile had faded a bit. “Okay, I’ll see you soon then.”

  Guilt briefly overwhelmed pain. “Thanks, Xavier,” she said as he opened the door. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Make up what?” But the knowing smile on his face told her he understood and didn’t hold the secrecy against her. Good old Xavier. He nodded to Arthur. “You and your sister are welcome to visit too, if you ever want. I’d be happy to have you.”

  “I –” was all Arthur managed to get out before Xavier had closed the door, hurrying off to catch the last trolley to Westbridge. When he was gone, Gail covered her eyes with her hands and dropped her head back against the bed. Shit, what the hell was wrong with her? It was like her brain was full of warring creatures with sharp teeth.

  Arthur knelt beside her again, eyes dark with worry. “Something’s wrong.”

  Gail nodded, and though she really didn’t want to think about it, she tilted her hand toward him. The words were still there on her skin, clear as a tattoo. THE EYELESS BULL SEES HER.

  Arthur studied the phrase for a moment, then looked up at her. “Explain please.”

  Gail tried. She told him about the awful headache and the way her hand had written without her consent. She showed him the other message she had written across her notes. Then she tried to tell him about the dream. It wasn’t the best description – Gail had never been much of a story-teller – but she made sure to cover all the important bits: Nia, the bull, and the way Nia had said, “Detective?” as if she had somehow known Gail was there.

  Arthur grew paler and paler throughout the story. When she reached the part about Nia desperately scrambling for safety, he seemed to cease to breathe only to let out a deep sigh of relief when Gail described her escape.

  “She made it?” he said, voice almost a whisper.

  “Yeah, but that was when she –” At once, everything came together, the bizarre writing, the setting of the dream, the way Nia had spoken to her, Arthur’s fear. “Wait, wait, wait, do you mean – it can’t – what I dreamed actually fucking happened?”

  “I – I think so. Yes.” Arthur seemed suddenly fascinated by the carpet.

  Well, shit. Of all the weird things that had happened to her during this case, this was definitely the fucking weirdest. “What’s the prognosis, doc? I thought I was just going bats, but it sounds like something else is going on.” She paused as another revelation hit her upside her aching head. “Wait, so that means Nia went down into the subway tunnels without us. Goddamn it, I knew something was weird with her this morning. She lied to us.”

  “Yes.” Arthur looked up and Gail was shocked to see tears standing in his eyes. “And you saved her life. Thank you.”

  “Well, if she hadn’t been doing something fucking stupid then I wouldn’t have had to – wait a second, why the hell are we still sitting here?” She shoved herself to her feet and tried to drag Arthur up with her.

  “What do you mean?” Arthur said, wiping his eyes with his free hand.

  “I know where she is, or where she was anyway. We’d better find her before she decides to tangle with the bull – I mean the train –” Train, of course it had been a train. How had she not known it was a train? – “again.” Letting Arthur finish standing on his own, Gail hurried across the room, ignoring her throbbing temples. She gathered up her papers, stuffed them back into the folder, and stuffed the folder into her bag. She didn’t know whether any of it would help, but she wasn’t going into those tunnels without every weapon she had.

  “You know where she is?” Arthur asked as he hurried to the door.

  “I know where she was, which is better than nothing.”

  “All right, I’ll meet you outside the lobby with the car in two minutes.” He paused with his hand on the door, looking over his shoulder with another of those guilty looks. “But – Gail, before we go, I should explain –”

  “Trust me, I have plenty of questions for you. I’ll ask them in the car. Two minutes.”

  Arthur nodded sharply. “Two minutes.” And he was gone.

  Gail yanked on her coat and pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She made sure her gun was loaded before tucking it securely into her holster. Sure, if it came down to gun versus train, she’d have to bet on the train, but there might be other nastiness down there more vulnerable to bullets.

  Less than two minutes later, she was hurrying down the stairs and out the door. As soon as Arthur pulled up to the curb, she slid into the car and slammed the door. Her headache was intensifying again, but she gritted her teeth against the pain.

  Whatever the hell was wrong with her would have to wait.

  36

  Gail Lin

  They made good time. Arthur was a hell of a driver. He had them flying through intersections and around sharp corners without so much as wrinkling his brow in concentration.

  “So, doc,” she said when it became clear that speaking wouldn’t cause him to slam them into a streetlamp. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never been able to see across town in my sleep before. If I could, I’d be a lot better at my job.”

  Arthur deftly guided them around a stopped trolley. “I was worried this would happen.”

  Gail waited.

  “I’ve told you that I’m not any kind of magical expert, right?”

  “Yeah, you said something like that,” Gail answered vaguely. She didn’t know how to let Arthur know what Nia had told her yesterday. It seemed only right to tell him she knew his secret, but so far she hadn’t hit on a way to do it without sounding like an asshole.

  “My official magical education ended when I was nine, but when I started studying to become a surgeon, it was necessary for the Academy to teach me about a few very particular types of magic, specifically the ones that overlap with physical health. One of the topics was the effect of excessive magical exposure on laymen.”

  “Huh? But we’re exposed to magic all the time.” She gestured through the windshield at the stoplight. “Those are magic. Hell, almost all the lights in the city are magic. The water we drink is purified by machines powered by magic. Now you’re saying it’
s bad for us?”

  “That’s all different from direct exposure.” He stopped speaking for a minute to let a couple pedestrians scurry in front of him before roaring through the intersection on their heels. “Even illusions aren’t that dangerous. I mean, they might drive someone mad, but magicians are equally susceptible to that. Laymen actually do better with them sometimes.”

  Gail thought of Arthur trying to stab that shard of broken glass into his throat and Nia weeping on the endless stairwell, craning toward something that only she could hear. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “The trouble comes with magic performed directly on the body. Magicians, even bound ones like me, can process magic. Our bodies use it and get rid of any excess, just like food. Laymen’s bodies can’t do anything with it, though, so it – builds up.”

  “Builds up?” Gail touched her forehead, remembering the awful stabbing pain she’d felt before passing out. Was that magic build-up? Against her will, she imagined the magic like a mass of shattered glass, expanding until it tore into her brain and cracked her skull. She grimaced and rubbed her head hard, trying to convince herself that the ache she felt was just a remnant of the earlier attack and not a sign of something worse to come.

  “It means –” Arthur sighed, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “It means that over time, the magic can cause permanent damage to your body.”

  It was probably her imagination, but Gail’s head suddenly hurt a lot worse. “That’s fucking fantastic. So what caused this, Nia healing me before?”

  Arthur nodded. “And when you put that spell on the spider door, though that was only a small exposure and probably wouldn’t have hurt you at all if not for the healing.”

  Gail sighed. “Well, I guess she didn’t have much choice. I wish she would have told me, though, even if I am pretty happy not to be dead.” But for how much longer? How long could a layman live with magic clogging their brain? Arthur said it would do permanent damage, but how much damage was he talking about? Fatal damage? Or just forgetting the names of friends and loved ones damage? And could the damage be reversed? But all those questions stayed in Gail’s throat. Better to save them for after the rescue. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain the dreams.”