The Collected Christopher Connery

by L. EE

  “In laymen, magic build-up can have strange side-effects. One of them is the manifestation of certain magical abilities. The layman can’t control them, but they’re there.” Arthur craned his neck to peer at a street sign then turned sharply across the intersection, dodging three other cars and one unhappy cyclist.

  “So what I wrote on that paper was magic?” IT’S DARK, BUT THE EYELESS BULL ISN’T BLIND. I SHOULD HAVE WORN THICKER STOCKINGS. THE STONE IS COLD. THERE WASN’T MUCH BLOOD. UNTIL THEY STARTED TO PULL ITS SKIN OFF. It had seemed like gibberish when she’d first read it, but now she could begin to make sense of it. The eyeless bull was the train tracking Nia. The stockings part referred to Nia too – her stockings had certainly torn easily enough when scraped across the concrete. The last part though… That still didn’t make any sense. Hell, it sounded too horrible to be real, but if it wasn’t real then it had come out of her own head, which was almost worse. No, definitely worse.

  “You said you wrote it unconsciously, right?”

  “Yeah, it was like someone else was using my hand.” Gail shivered at the memory and flexed her fingers a few times make sure she was still entirely in control of them.

  “My guess is that because Nia was the one who exposed you, the magic inside you connects you to her. That’s why you could find her and warn her.”

  “But how did I – I thought I was dreaming. You’re telling me my mind or my soul or whatever just wandered out my body and –” Fuck, how was she supposed to understand this shit with her brain swelling up against her skull?

  “You remember when I explained the difference between bound and unbound magic?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What you did was essentially a kind of unbound magic. You projected your magic and caused it to have the effect you wanted. It wasn’t focused or controlled, but you did it.” He glanced at her before turning his attention back to the road. “You must have been worried about Nia.”

  Gail looked out the window, watching the clouds darkening on the horizon. “Yeah, I was. She was acting so strange this morning, but I couldn’t work out what the problem was.” She snorted humorlessly. “Now I guess we know.”

  “But why would she have gone without us? Why all alone? Nia can be a little impulsive, but she’s not stupid.” Arthur’s jaw was tight as they finally reached the street they were looking for. He took the turn so fast that if any pedestrian had tried to dart in front of them, they would have been reduced to a smear on the pavement.

  “Maybe she thought we’d talk her out of it. I certainly would’ve tried.”

  “But the Academy said they were sending help, right? So –” Arthur breathed in sharply through his teeth. “That’s not what the message said, was it? They weren’t going to send any help.”

  “I’m guessing no.”

  Arthur cursed, roaring around another corner fast enough to make Gail’s vision blur.

  “Fuck,” she growled, gripping her head tightly in both hands. It felt like if she just squeezed hard enough, her skull would fracture into a million tiny fragments.

  “Are you okay?” Arthur asked, glancing over with concern. “Should I stop –”

  “No, keep going, just… talk about something else. Distract me.”

  “What should I –”

  “Oh, come on, doc, be creative for hell’s sake!”

  “All right.” Arthur was silent for so long that Gail thought she’d have to start counting the explosions in her temples. Then he said, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to ask, but your friend…”

  “Which friend?”

  Arthur shot her another sidelong glance. “The only one of your friends I’ve ever met.”

  Right. Xavier. “Okay, smartass, what about him?”

  Arthur’s hands shifted on the steering wheel. “What – what happened to him?”

  “What do you mean?” Did Xavier tell him about Wayne? But that didn’t seem likely. Arthur might have been as nice and as good-looking and as clever as Xavier could want, but he didn’t like talking about Eric Wayne. Not even to Gail who had seen the man’s sick work firsthand.

  “I mean, he’s got these scars –”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. He told me his doctor has him giving himself some shots. He’s not shooting vernix. That’s not Xavier’s style.”

  “I didn’t mean those,” Arthur said, sounding like he hadn’t even considered the vernix angle.

  Ah, thought Gail, the life if a sheltered Academy magician. “I wouldn’t worry about the others either. You can’t grow up in Gracetown without getting a few scars. It’s no big deal.”

  Arthur seemed unconvinced. “If you say so.”

  “It’s just a different world,” Gail said with a shrug. “It leaves its mark on you.” She checked out the window again and tapped on the glass. “Okay, it’s right up here.”

  Arthur pulled the car to the curb. His hands slid from the wheel. “I can usually tell when she’s lying. She’s never been very good at it. I noticed she seemed jumpy, but I thought she was just nervous about talking to the Directors.” He put his face in his hands. “I should have realized.”

  “Hey.” Gail took hold of his shoulder and gave him a light shake. “We can worry about that later. Let’s get her out of there first.”

  “You’re right.” Arthur shoved his door open. “Let’s go.”

  The rain was beginning to fall as they got out of the car and ran to the entrance of Ferris Street station. Gail reached automatically under her coat for her umbrella, only to realize that she had left it at the hotel. A little water won’t kill you, she reminded herself as she felt the familiar tightening in her chest. You’ve got more important things to worry about right now - like the magic grinding against your brain.

  They ducked under the old weather-beaten sign that marked the station door. The gate was held shut by a chain, but it was so rusted from long water exposure that a few hard kicks were enough to break the padlock. With Arthur’s help, Gail dragged the gate open and together they started down the long steep stairs.

  Somewhere far below, Gail heard something bellowing in savage animal rage.

  It’s just my ears playing tricks on me. She forced herself to run down the stairs, each step multiplied a hundred times in her throbbing head.

  37

  Nia Graves

  Nia had almost decided to give up and climb the stairs to the street – though if she were truthful, she had almost made this same decision several times before – when she heard several loud bangs. She leapt to her feet, looking wildly around, certain it was the train returning to crush her to a pulp.

  Then she realized the sound was coming from above her. It was followed by the sound of dragging metal and then rhythmic pounding – footsteps! She ducked into a shadowy corner, slipping a piece of paper into her hand. If this was another trap, she would be prepared.

  When the two figures charged off the last steps, she almost triggered the spell – then she recognized them.

  “Nia!” Arthur called. “Are you here?”

  “Arthur!” Nia stepped into the light and threw her arms around his neck.

  He hugged her back tightly. “Nia, you scared us half to death. What were you thinking?”

  Nia just held him more tightly. After the initial blind terror had passed, she had a long time to reflect on what would have happened if she hadn’t been quick enough to escape the train. The thought of never seeing Arthur again, of him being left to return to the Academy alone, had brought tears to her eyes.

  She finally managed to unwind her arms from his neck and looked at Gail. The detective was scowling at her, one hand on her hip. The other was massaging her temple. She’s angry at me.

  “Detective, I –”

  “Later. I just want to get out of here before –” The lights began to flicker wildly, like flames caught in a high wind. “– before some more fucked up shit starts happening, come on!”

  Nia didn’t object when Gail grabbed her arm
and pulled her toward the stairs. She reached out her other hand to grasp Arthur’s. Nia could make out a square of gray light at the top of the stairs. All thoughts of failure and shame were forgotten, all she wanted at that moment was to reach that light and stumble on to the street, all of them safe and –

  A horrific metal crash, like a thousand steel doors slamming at once. Nia and Arthur stumbled, stunned by the noise, while Gail fell to her knees, clutching her head.

  “Gail!” Nia knelt beside her. “What’s wrong?” She had to shout to be heard, but Gail only hunched her shoulders and held her head more tightly.

  The crashing grew louder. Nia couldn’t tell what was causing it or where it was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere at once. Arthur had his hands over his ears now and Nia thought she could feel the sound vibrating in her teeth.

  Gail swayed on her knees, almost crumpling to the floor.

  Not knowing what else to do, Nia wrapped her arms around Gail’s head, trying to block out the sound. “It’s all right,” she murmured though she knew the detective couldn’t hear her, and, “It will stop soon,” though she had no way of knowing if that were true. Perhaps this was Connery’s trap. They would remain here, stunned by the din until –

  The horrible noise stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The silence rang in Nia’s ears. For several seconds, she stayed on the floor with her eyes closed, cheek pressed to Gail’s hair.

  A light touch on her shoulder drew her head up.

  Arthur stood above her, rubbing his ear with one hand. “What was that?” he said a little too loudly.

  “I – I don’t know. It – oh!” She started as Gail flinched away from her voice. “I’m sorry, detective, I –”

  “Please,” Gail choked out, holding up one hand while the other stayed pressed to her forehead. “Please don’t talk. Don’t make any noise at all – just don’t.”

  Nia stared up at Arthur who only frowned anxiously. She wracked her mind for something that would help. She couldn’t use healing magic, not again, but there had to something she could do that wouldn’t involve direct exposure. There had to – she reached up and unwound her scarf. Trying not to scrape the pen too loudly across the paper, she drew a circle. She set the scarf down on top of it and almost immediately the cloth grew icy cold.

  “Detective,” she whispered. “Hold still. This will help.”

  Gail’s jaw was clenched painfully tight, but she held still long enough for Nia to press the cold scarf to her brow. A violent shudder wracked the detective’s body, then she sighed and sagged forward on her hands, letting Nia stroke the scarf across her temples. The cold made her fingers ache, but she continued until Gail sat up and took the scarf from her.

  “Thanks,” she said hoarsely. “That helps.”

  Nia could only nod, horrified into silence by the haggard look on Gail’s face. Only last night she had been staggered by Gail’s smile. Now the detective looked like she might never smile again. The deep red of the scarf clashed garishly with her pallid face.

  For several minutes, all they could do was wait in silence for Gail to recover. Finally, she struggled to her feet, scarf pressed to her head. She looked like a breeze would knock her down, but she somehow managed a weak smile. “That was – less than pleasant.”

  Nia almost reached out to touch Gail’s cheek, but drew back at the last second, remembering Gail was likely not particularly happy with her. “Oh, detective, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. My head’s just killing me.” Gail winced as she slid the scarf to her temple. “That noise didn’t help.”

  Arthur leaned in close to whisper, “It’s the magic. It’s starting to affect her.”

  No. Oh no. Nia had hoped against hope that they would be lucky, that the exposure wasn’t as large as it had seemed, that Gail’s resistance would be greater than average, but her hopes had come to nothing. Oh, detective, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I only wanted to help you.

  Gail either didn’t see or didn’t recognize the horror on Nia’s face, because she just said, “It’s not so bad. I think it’ll pass again.” She turned toward the stairs. “And I’ll feel even better once we – oh, hell.”

  Following her gaze, Nia saw the reason for the curse. The gate that blocked the door at the top of the stairs had multiplied tenfold blocking the exit from the door to the bottom of the stairs. The gray light from the surface was now completely obscured.

  “Tell me you can open this, Nia,” said Arthur.

  “I – I think I can.” I hope I can. She stepped toward the first of the gates, running her hand across the closely crossed bars. She gripped one bar and shook it. This gate, unlike the original, was sturdy and hardly rattled. But even that small sound made Gail wince.

  Kneeling on the floor, she drew a circle carefully on a piece of paper. The spell would be stronger if she could draw it on the bars themselves, but the crisscrossed metal would not hold the chalk well. The paper spell would have to be enough.

  She tried to keep any doubt off of her face as she pressed the paper against the bars. Open, she begged silently. Open, open, open. She felt the gate tremble beneath her hand, but then Connery’s spell pushed back. She yanked her hand away just before the bars smashed together like metal teeth. If she hadn’t let go, she would have left fingers on the other side of the grating.

  “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Gail from behind her.

  “He’s layered his spells,” Nia said softly, holding her hand against her chest. “Damn him, damn him.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Arthur.

  It means I’ve made another mistake. It means I can’t open the gate. It means we’re trapped. But the voice that came out of her mouth was flat and toneless. “Connery layered his spells. The gates depend on the train which depends on whatever bit of Connery is hidden within it. I can’t open the gates without breaking the spells that control the train and whatever other spells are protecting Connery. His associates couldn’t have done this magic. Magic this complex can’t be bound to paper. He did this himself. Months, perhaps years in advance.”

  “But can’t you –”

  Already knowing what Arthur was about to ask, Nia said, “No. I can’t undo the gates alone. I never expected magic this complex. I assumed everything had been done with predrawn spells, which meant I could combat them alone, but this…”

  “Don’t feel bad, princess,” said Gail with a grim smile. “Connery has a knack for ruining people’s plans, even when he’s in pieces.”

  “What can we do?” said Arthur. “If we can’t open the gates then how –”

  Nia took a breath. “We have to stop the train.”

  38

  Gail Lin

  “Here, evil subway train. Come here, little evil subway train. Oh, and please don’t kill us.” Gail, still holding the cold scarf to her head, leaned out over the edge of the platform and waved into the dark tunnel beyond.

  “That’s not going to help,” said Nia, eyes focused on the massive spell she was drawing on the tile floor beyond the platform. She said that the spell would call the train to them, but since it was taking about a century to draw, Gail thought she would try her own methods.

  Arthur was sitting a little away from them, carefully sorting the various medical supplies in his bag. He’d already cleaned and bandaged Nia’s scraped knee, but now he didn’t seem sure he had brought enough stuff with him. Given how hard Connery had kicked their asses the last two times they tangled with him, he was probably right.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” Gail sang. “Don’t you want to try to murder us again? You better hurry before we die of boredom.”

  “You do remember that trains don’t have ears.”

  “Or eyes.” Gail glanced down at the words scrawled across the back of her hand.

  “That as well.”

  “It has to know we’re here,” said Gail half to herself as she sat back on the platform. “It was able to find you.” />
  The sound of scraping chalk stopped suddenly. “Detective Lin.”

  “Illuminator Graves.”

  There was a long moment of silence that wasn’t broken by voices or chalk. It was a bit surprising Arthur had failed to notice it, but he was probably just caught up in preparing for the many ways they might get maimed down here.

  Then, “May I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything. I might give you a stupid answer, though. Hey, train! Train! What’s taking you so long?” Gail whistled and instantly regretted it when the sound bounced off the walls and burrowed into her sore head.

  “Please be serious, detective.”

  “I’m not sure I have serious in me right now, princess. Sorry.”

  “Detective.”

  Gail looked over her shoulder. Nia was gazing at her with a melancholy expression that pricked Gail’s heart, which in turn pricked her temper. “What is it? Shouldn’t you be finishing that spell? I’d rather not be stuck down here all night if it’s all the same to you.” She pressed harder on her temple with the scarf, hoping if she just held it long enough, the pounding would have to stop.

  A sad smile touched Nia’s lips and just as quickly flitted away. “You’re angry with me.”

  A number of possible responses crossed Gail’s mind, but she eventually settled on, “Yeah.”

  “And you have every right to be. I –”

  A harsh laugh escaped Gail at that. “Oh, good, I’m glad to know I have permission.”

  Nia’s face tightened. “I wasn’t giving you permission, I was admitting I was wrong.”

  “Wrong about what exactly?”

  Nia met Gail’s glare dead on. “I was wrong to have lied to you, to both you and Arthur. I should have told you the truth.”

  Gail glanced at Arthur, but he was still sorting bandages like there was nothing else in the world worth paying attention to. Getting to her feet, she moved closer to Nia, so they could talk without raising their voices. “And the truth is?’