The Untangled Cassie Black

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The Untangled Cassie Black Page 20

by Tammie Painter


  "I just can’t imagine what the people of Las Vegas must think. The loss of—" Fiona was saying as we stepped into Olivia’s vast office. Since she hadn’t brought any bags with her, Fiona must have returned home to change. She was now dressed in a casual denim skirt with a lavender t-shirt with the words Keep Portland Wyrd stitched across the front.

  And something in my rattled brain snapped into place.

  "Las Vegas! The cities!" I cried out excitedly. Banna, Fiona, Runa, and Olivia whipped their heads in my direction and gave me reproachful looks. I bit my lip even though I was buzzing with the thrill of Dr. Watson when he thinks he’s figured out a scrap of evidence that Sherlock Holmes has missed (which he never has). "They’re clues," I said in a more reasonable tone of voice.

  "What are?" asked Runa.

  "Pisa. Tacoma. Las Vegas. P. T. L."

  "Port Armstrong?" said Fiona.

  "What?"

  "PTL, it’s the airport code for Port Armstrong."

  "I don’t know why you know that, but no. The letters PTLD used to be the abbreviation that Portlanders used for their return address on mail, or just as shorthand in general. PTL. I bet his next target is going to be a city that starts with D. Duluth, Des Moines, Dubai," I said, rattling off the first cities that came to mind as a dozen other places fought a geographic battle with each other on the tip of my tongue.

  "I suppose that’s some help in warning them," Olivia said without any sign she thought I was a genius. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

  "Don’t you see? It’s a clue. He’s in Portland. He has to be."

  "That’s quite a stretch, Cassie," said Fiona. "The hits could just be random. It’s human instinct to search for patterns."

  "And what are we supposed to do with this idea of yours?" Runa asked. "Wait for him to spell out his entire street address with destruction?"

  "I think we need Tobey and we need Rafi," I said, practically leaping out of my shoes, ready to go.

  "What do you need Tobey for?" Mr. T asked cautiously, no doubt worried I’d lose his grandson down a portal again.

  "It’s well past time to hypnotize your grandson. He may not know exactly where he was, but if he can visualize it, maybe we can figure it out." Mr. T looked skeptical. "Look, it’s either that or I get my brain drained. And I’d really rather experiment on Tobey, if you don’t mind."

  "I don’t think it will provide anything new," Banna said almost apologetically. Since Olivia had barely dimmed the lights, Banna was fully wrapped in clothing and wore the largest pair of sunglasses I’d ever seen. "He’s already told us he saw nothing but an interior space with no windows."

  "No, she’s right," said Fiona. "It might provide a clue. It can’t hurt." She shifted to face Olivia. "Since you’re insisting on overriding the tribunal, you should at least give her this chance."

  "Fine," said Olivia, "but if it turns up nothing, we’re going to have to set things up for the extraction to take place some time tomorrow. This can’t continue. Cassie, fill these capsules for Runa, then please leave," she said curtly, then turned her back on us.

  Knowing Olivia was in no mood to be trifled with, I scooped up the packet of capsules she’d indicated. I hurriedly filled them, wondering if my parents would taste the bitterness in my magic. We then left without a word. Banna, as if wanting to get away from the light in the room as quickly as possible, hadn’t lingered around and had been the first out the door. Fiona and Busby walked out together. I trailed along, but glanced back when I got to the office’s door. Runa had remained behind. She and Olivia were whispering, but their gaze briefly met mine. A knowing smile lifted both their lips as they went back to whatever they were plotting.

  So Runa would be part of my extraction. After all her talk of me not giving up my magic. What a way to repay the person who’d just saved your life a few hours ago.

  30 - PREVIOUS WHAT?

  NOT WANTING FIONA or Busby to talk me out of what I thought was a brilliant idea, while they were distracted with one another at the end of the hallway, I dashed to get Tobey who, having cleaned my entire room, was currently using his magic to coax the wrinkles out of my t-shirts. With hardly any explanation, I marched him down the stairs to Rafi’s cluttered office. Which was empty. Of humans, that is. It was still crammed full of Rafi refuse.

  I poked around the clutter a bit just to make sure Rafi hadn’t gotten trapped under a heavy box or perhaps a fallen bookshelf. He hadn’t. I scanned the mess scattered across his desk. On top of a stack of binders from which tufts of fur and feather stuck out, was a spiral-bound day planner. I checked it, a gnawing worry growing in my belly. Not a worry that Rafi might be off on important HQ business, but a knowing worry regarding my luck within the White Tower. And there, jotted into the current time slot was what I’d suspected.

  "Come on," I grumbled.

  "What is it? What are we doing?"

  "Climbing to the roof," I said, my legs already aching at the prospect. "Rafi’s doing his laps."

  "Do I need another infusion of magic? Because I feel great. Did you see your room?"

  "Yes, good job. You get a gold star for the day. Now," I said, pointing to the stairwell, "get up the stairs."

  After the first couple flights, Tobey again asked why we needed to see Rafi.

  "Because he can hypnotize you to see if you can remember more about where you were."

  "I told you all I can remember."

  "All your waking mind can remember."

  Rafi was whipping his slim frame around the small, rooftop track when we stepped out. When he saw us, he slowed to a jog to cool down.

  "We don’t have a lesson for another hour," he said, barely breathing faster than normal as he wiped from his brow the three drops of sweat he’d produced. Fit people are so annoying.

  "Can you hypnotize Tobey?" I explained what I’d been thinking. That since I had a clue where the Mauvais might be, maybe a little subconscious memory tapping could seal the deal.

  "I was thinking the exact same thing, but Olivia doesn’t see any reason for the hypnosis. And Runa agreed that, since Tobey doesn’t seem to have any memory problems after his little trip, we’d only be wasting our time." Runa again. It’s not like we were best friends or anything, but it was still disheartening to have her siding so strongly with Olivia. From what I’d seen, Runa had never been opposed to trying any method that might work. I knew the two had something going on between them, but it seemed as if Runa was no longer thinking for herself. "But," Rafi continued, "I still think hypnotizing him might help draw us a clearer picture."

  "Exactly." I watched Rafi impatiently. "So do it."

  "Am I allowed to drink some water first?"

  "If you must," I said as we walked over to the side table where a pitcher of water with lemon slices floating inside waited. Rafi drank two glasses then told Tobey to sit on the bench.

  "Shouldn’t I lay down?"

  "Why? Are you sleepy? Don’t worry, if you start to topple over, you’ll catch yourself. If you don’t catch yourself and end up falling to the floor, we’ll be sure to take pictures and share them on Instagram." Tobey, protesting, started to stand, but Rafi pushed him back down. "I’m kidding. You’ll be fine. Now, close your eyes and be quiet."

  Tobey obeyed. Rafi then took Tobey’s hands in his and closed his own eyes, muttering something that did not sound like English. Tobey’s head drooped, but soon lifted again. His eyes had a creepy, far-away look that reminded me of my parents’ vacant expressions.

  "Tell us where you were, Tobey. Before you came to the White Tower most recently, you were somewhere. Describe it."

  Tobey went on, telling of the same wood beams and hard-packed dirt floor. But as Rafi prodded with more precise questions while tightening his squeeze on Tobey’s hands, Tobey began to fill in more detail. His subconscious mind dug up images of a stone- and brick-lined room and, of all things, a dentist cha
ir. Perhaps his teeth were sending him a message after his recent sugar overload.

  "He wants Alastair to do something with the chair," Tobey said groggily. "Alastair doesn’t want to, but he’s being made to."

  "Compulsion Hex," Rafi mouthed to me and I wondered what else Alastair might be made to do under that spell. Was he being made to destroy the cities? The thought made my stomach ache.

  Tobey droned on. "There’s something cold and bright. I can’t figure it out. The floor isn’t a floor. It’s dirt, but hard. There’s wooden beams on the ceiling. Lots of spider webs. I’m reminded of the sea." Rafi and I exchanged a look and we both shrugged. Who knew what random things Tobey’s brain was dredging up.

  "There’s a door. Oh, we came in that door," Tobey said as if just remembering. Rafi remained silent, and passed me a look that told me I shouldn’t interrupt. I pinched my lips to hold back the questions bubbling in me. "It’s like a hall, sort of arched though, like a tunnel. And there’s doors off to the sides. At the end. That’s where we came in. Where we popped through. A smaller room than the first. Lots of shelves."

  "Is this a new place, Tobey, or an old one?" Rafi asked, speaking quietly.

  "Old. Nothing’s new, but there’s some dim lights, so maybe it’s used for something."

  I tapped Rafi’s shoulder and pointed to my nose when he glanced up at me.

  "Is there a smell to the place?"

  Tobey sniffed as if he were there. "Musty. And like stale beer. Dusty too, but also like it had once been wet."

  Rafi looked to me and mouthed, "More?" I shook my head. It hadn’t rung any bells of familiarity and it seemed Tobey really had only been in a small, possibly underground area with no windows. He had no clue where exactly he’d gone.

  "Okay, Tobey, good job. You’re going to wake up, but first, don’t forget to drool a little because we think that’s funny."

  A small trickle of drool dribbled out the side of Tobey’s mouth. His eyes cleared and he immediately wiped his face. "Did I fall asleep?"

  And, as childish as it was, the drooling was funny. Except to Tobey, of course.

  * * *

  The next morning I woke to rain lashing against my window and a breakfast that was little more than toast and tea. Placed between the plate and the teapot was a crisply folded (and worded) note ordering me to go to Olivia’s office the instant I was dressed.

  Would this be when she said, Sod it all, and extracted me to save the Magics of the world? Or maybe the tribunal had made their ruling. Had they decided I was never going to fully tame my magic and that I was too much of a threat to keep around? At least I knew Pablo would have a happy home full of sartorial splendor.

  At the thought of Lola and Pablo, I suddenly, urgently needed something familiar. I craved a kind word, a cat in a silly costume, even a crocheted creation would do. If this office visit didn’t result in an immediate brain drain, I swore to get outside to check my messages.

  Or I could just go out now and—

  No, I had to face whatever horrible music was waiting for me in Olivia’s office. And I had a feeling I knew what tune would be playing.

  See, Tobey hadn’t been wrong. Mr. T hadn’t been wrong. Not long after the Tobey hypnosis session, Fiona had told me they’d confirmed the portal scans for the night I’d recovered my parents had completely vanished. And I’ll give you one guess as to who was going to get the Blanket of Blame piled on top of her.

  "Did you take the scans?" Olivia asked the moment I stepped into her tapestry-lined realm. Mr. Tenpenny and Fiona were there with cups of steaming tea before them. They at least had the decency to look shamefaced at Olivia’s harsh accusation.

  "No, I wouldn’t have any idea how to read them anyway."

  "Your arm." With her palm up Olivia flicked her fingers in a get-over-here-now gesture. I took a step back.

  "She’s not going to extract you," Mr. T said, reading my mind as easily as a child’s primer. "She only wants to check on something."

  I strode up to the desk, feigning confidence even as my legs urged me to turn and run. When I held out my arm, it would take a blind person not to see the limb trembling.

  "Olivia, maybe you could explain?" said Fiona. "You’re frightening her for no reason."

  "I need to check what you’ve done recently." Olivia’s voice was sharp and far from comforting. She wrapped her long, cool fingers around my wrist, then said more gently, "It won’t hurt. Previous non persona."

  I was about to ask, Previous what? when half the tea in Fiona and Busby’s cups evaporated.

  "Only a Drying Spell," Mr. T said in a tone that implied, Please release her, you’re being ridiculous. Or at least that’s what I hoped the tone implied.

  "Why did you perform a Drying Spell," asked Olivia without letting go of my arm.

  "Because I went swimming and didn’t want to drip all over the stonework." I thought it best not to tell her it was also because I’d been in a hurry to get to the library to study up on how to build portals.

  "When was this? When did you go swimming?"

  "Just after you arrested Chester," I said evenly.

  "I told you Olivia," said Busby, "it would have been impossible. The scans had to have been taken from Runa’s office soon before or after she was poisoned. Cassie was right there with us."

  "I suppose you’re right. It was best to check, though. We can’t rule anyone out these days." Olivia released my arm and it was only then I noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the drawn pallor of her normally vibrant skin. I might have sympathized with the strain she was under. You know, if she wasn’t itching for my extraction. That kind of thing does lessen your empathy for a person. "You may go. I believe Rafi has something planned for you. He should be in his office. No detours on the way, please." Olivia dropped into her chair, then looked up at me, a sincere expression of understanding softened her face slightly. "I do apologize for your lessons being in such a shambles lately. I hope you’re practicing."

  I hesitantly said I was, while trying to grasp the incongruity of it all. Why would Olivia care one lick if I was practicing or not? Was the strain getting to her? Was she trying to keep me busy to keep me out of her hair? Why show concern about my lessons at the same time she was clamoring for my extraction? As I’ve said more than once and will likely have made into a bumper sticker: Magics are impossible to figure out.

  With a quick nod to Fiona and Busby, I cleared out before Olivia went back to accusing me of magical crimes.

  31 - ORBS & EXPLANATIONS

  WHEN I GOT to Rafi’s workspace, I knocked on the door. In response, a bright pink sticky note appeared at eye level. Words wrote themselves in black ink: Rafi is in the Practice Room. This took up most of the space on the note. These words vanished and new ones appeared: Meet me there, Cassie. Then the note faded away as if melting into the door’s woodwork.

  Of course I should have known he’d be in the practice room. First, as I’d seen while cramming toast into my mouth that morning, the grey clouds from the day before had dragged in an angry squall. And although the netting around the rooftop rec area had a Camouflage Charm on it, HQ hadn’t bothered to treat it with any type of waterproofing. As such, each gust would lash rain straight through, soaking anyone up there.

  Second, what would a day in the White Tower be without having to climb an endless number of stairs? I devised several new curse words as I trudged back down to the practice room. You know, the room that was barely twenty steps from where I’d just been.

  "Ah, you got my note."

  "You could have told Olivia I was to meet you here." I pointed to Tobey, who had been chatting with Rafi when I entered. "Is it safe for him to be here with the others so close?"

  "One: the exercise is good for those skinny legs of yours. Two: if anyone comes in, we’ll just say he was bored and wanted to watch. But I doubt they’ll be stopping by."

  I said n
othing to this. After some debate, and because the weather was making the room depressingly gloomy, we decided orbs would be a good place to start.

  "You’re not going to burn any holes in the door, are you?" Rafi asked, referring to a little problem I had when I first came to the White Tower.

  "No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t light your hair on fire if you annoy me."

  "Point taken: Do not annoy Cassie Black."

  "Good luck with that," Tobey chimed in. Rafi high-fived him and I rolled my eyes. Rafi then took Tobey’s arm, grasped my hand, and gave Tobey what he called, "A little top up."

  "He barely needs it, though. His magic levels are staying pretty steady. It’s unusual. Didn’t you say it never stuck before?"

 

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