by Scott Duff
“He’ll be okay, then?” I asked, watching the helicopter course-correct toward us. It occurred to me I would need to control another Faraday cage and neither Mercer nor Ferrin had felt that before. Turning back to get the cop’s attention, “Mike, Inspector Mercer, I will be doing a good deal of work to make sure we stay in the air. You’ll feel this as a pressure against your skin for the duration of both flights. At times, this may get uncomfortable. You can relieve this pressure by pulling in your auras as close to your bodies as possible. Okay?”
Ferrin nodded and immediately started channeling power. It seemed to go down into him, so he must have been fueling his battery. Mercer was just lost and scared. He was confusing me. Why was he here?
“Mercer, how long have you held your position?” I asked. I could barely hear the chop echo in the distance.
“Just a couple of months,” he admitted, scratching his head.
“What got you into your current division?”
“There were a… series of… incidents,” he stammered through an explanation, “with a few of my mother’s friends and a con man…”
“And that caught someone’s eye?” I said trying to help him. He started to say something, but decided a nod was sufficient. I chuckled and said, “Just keep your head down and your eyes and mind open and you’ll be fine.” I didn’t believe it either, but he couldn’t see that. We were about to be loaded into a military helicopter to be flown off to only God knows where, after all.
Chapter 53
Searchlights stabbed into the night around us as the helicopter arrived overhead, beating the air down on us. Not wanting to be blinded, I didn’t look up, but Mercer did. He paid for it. The helicopter hung in the air for a few minutes, indecisively. Mercer’s cell phone chirped insistently. Thinking that this wasn’t going to work well for us, I looked up through my hand trying to block out the lights. A helmeted head poked out of a door in the side, looking down. The man swung a winch out and was attaching a harness to it. Yeah, that was not going to happen.
“Hang on guys, we’re going up,” I yelled over the chop of the rotors in the air. Using the Stone, I raised us off the roof high, also putting a roof over us so that we wouldn’t be beat down so hard. Stopping a few feet from the open door about level with the man still attaching the harness. Peter reached out and tapped the man’s arm. He jumped back, arms flailing as he fell farther into the cabin. The helicopter shifted in the air constantly, making me adjust to its position constantly.
It occurred to me that it would be easier to attach to the helicopter rather than the ground, so I cantilevered the shield to the ledge and the struts. This made our ride considerably more erratic. Mercer was already having a difficult time, meaning he was already having a pretty severe panic attack. Ferrin was trying to calm him down, but he wasn’t going to get far with him until Mercer got something hard and opaque under his feet. Peter moved over to the cabin and tried to help the helmet-head up. I grabbed Mercer’s free arm and moved over, too, waving coyly at uniformed man who was poking his helmet-head through a small door in the center of the cabin, mouth agape.
Immediately, I set up a sound baffle at the open door, then set a magical Faraday cage around the helicopter. “Where do we sit?” I asked loudly.
“How did you get here?” was the response I got.
“Through that door,” I said, pointing at the opening. “Now, where do we sit? Aren’t you supposed to take us somewhere?”
“Yes, Colonel, our passengers are on board,” the man said. I assumed he wasn’t talking to me as I wasn’t a colonel of anything. “Negative, Colonel. They appeared at the open door while I was rigging the harness, Colonel. I don’t know how.”
Ferrin shoved Mercer into a harness on a bench and tied him down next to Peter. They both looked like they were guessing at what to do, halting every few seconds to study something then pull and yank till it worked or try something else when it didn’t. They worked quickly and fairly efficiently. Ferrin was seated and starting to harness himself in before the helmet-head finished talking to the Colonel.
“Is it safe for me to put the headphones on?” Ferrin asked me.
“Um, yeah,” I said, sitting down next him to strap in. “Probably a good idea. So I can release the door.” I slipped on the headphones, instantly hearing voices. “Can we go soon?”
“Who is this?” asked a voice, deeper than helmet-head.
“This is one of the four people you came to pick up,” I answered. “I’m not particularly sure I’m supposed to give you my name. The way this trip was arranged screams state secret.”
“With the exception of Inspector Mercer, that would be a correct assessment, sir,” the Colonel replied through the headset. Helmet-head slid the side door closed and I dropped the sound buffer. It got louder in the cabin. “Beginning our flight. Lieutenant, identify Mercer.” We all pointed for helmet-head.
“Inspector Mercer is in the middle of a rather severe panic attack and has been sedated,” Ferrin said. “I can bring him out of it, but it would be better to do that on the ground than in the air.”
“He’s not unconscious,” Peter added. “He’s just dazed.” Peter had a wicked grin on his face. He was enjoying making the cop look drunk.
“Are you Inspector Mercer?” Lieutenant Helmet-head asked Mercer.
He looked at the Lieutenant drunkenly for a moment, then he nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a wallet with his identification and badge. He flipped it open with practiced ease, even through the harness. Slower but still professional, not fumbling. Maybe he had some military experience before the police.
“Colonel, I have Inspector Mercer,” the Lieutenant said.
“Ask Inspector Mercer how they arrived in my helicopter,” said the Colonel.
Helmet-head relayed the question to Mercer, who again stared at him drunkenly for a moment before answering. He said, slowly and slurring a little, “I have no idea. We were down there and now we’re up here.”
I understood that. I couldn’t see the Stone’s power either. It played out as visual representations in my mind when I asked for it, but otherwise I just sort of felt it. I just knew where it was. When I grabbed us, he probably felt like gravity gave out and he was shooting towards his death at a giant egg chopper. Which if you think about it, is pretty absurd. I really shouldn’t be letting Ferrin and Peter do this to him, but I had other work to do.
My awareness shot outward from the helicopter relative to the front of the vehicle has it surged forward. This was going to be harder without Ethan’s guidance, but this ship was significantly smaller and slower so the field could be tighter and stronger. My awareness keyed in on the energy plane, keenly highlighting power sources ranging from rivers to power lines to cars on the roads below us. The engines above and in front of me made no small dint themselves. Still, this wasn’t going to be that hard.
I faded out of the conversation as I concentrated on our path, but Peter invited Ferrin to be our spokesman. There were some questions asked and Ferrin either answered or evaded; I just remember not being particularly alarmed by anything he said. And Peter was paying attention really, watching all of us, and it’s easier to do that when you’re not the center of attention. We landed much sooner than I thought we would but that happened the last time I did this. Ferrin was releasing my harness when I came fully back into myself and Peter was releasing Mercer’s.
Lieutenant Helmet-head helped us out and ran with us a short distance away, making sure we ducked down below the sweep of the rotors. It was purely a psychological move as even with the trailing edge of the blades bending down there wasn’t a danger of hitting any of us. A danger of needing a brush and a mirror, certainly, but not of decapitation. Helmet-head turned back for the helicopter after twenty-five feet and we carried on to the waiting van.
That took us for a five-minute trip through whatever airport we were at to a small, sleek ten-seat jet. Peter had sobered Mercer up completely during the short trip.
Ferrin kept the lead of our group and I wasn’t going to argue—it worked for me, especially since the point man for the jet team was a lot more argumentative. Ferrin matched the man in that quality, not yielding a quantum of information. The pilot finally came out and demanded we embark, even over the point man’s protests. Once in our seats, I started the Faraday cage all over again, while the man glared at Ferrin and Ferrin ignored him.
This trip was harder for me. We traveled higher and faster, so I had to seek further out than with the helicopter ride, but the ship was small so that was some help. We turned easterly and out of the water at high speed. This time I had to work, pushing a few lines up or down as we neared. Nothing came too close. It was mostly precautionary. If I knew the flight plan, I probably wouldn’t have touched them, but it was harder when the jet started its descent, somewhere in France or Germany. Maybe Belgium, I’d need to see a map to be sure.
I released the cage when the plane taxied to a stop at a private hangar at a small airport. We were waved into a waiting limousine at the bottom of the stairs without a word from the driver. Customs wasn’t in sight this time. The car traveled through some fairly hilly roads for a little over an hour. Both Peter and I took the opportunity to recharge our batteries and doze during the short trip, while Ferrin and Mercer admired the lack of a view through the tinted windows. Mercer was still a tightly wound ball of elastic, ready to pop at any moment. His previous sedation had helped him dial it back a notch, though, and he was getting more accustomed to our presence.
The limo pulled down a long driveway to the front of a large and well-lit chateau. Well, if we were in France or Belgium, I suppose it was a chateau. If we were in Germany, I wasn’t quite sure what to call it. The wash we felt as we passed through the wards was uncomfortable at best, itchy at worst. Even Mercer felt it. There were a lot of people walking the paths and walkways, looking threatening. The whole place reeked of power. The wards became less noticeable as we got closer to the nexus of that power.
As I looked at the house, I got less and less comfortable with where we were going. The dint in the energy plane was massive, and I mean massive! There were many high powered humans here. On the astral plane, there were warding and seeking spells active all around us, watching for incoming spells. Ferrin attracted their attentions quickly, but he passed through the proper gates so they ignored him. Mercer barely merited a second glance from all but the most strongly attenuated of them. Neither Peter nor I attracted any attention at all.
An older man in a tuxedo stopped us at the top of the steps, greeting only Mercer by name. He escorted us through the front doors and into what appeared to be a dinner party. We were definitely underdressed for a dinner party, even though it didn’t appear to be a black tie affair. That, and it was really late in the evening for dinner.
“Food!” barked Ferrin, seeing the buffet table. He shot away from us abruptly. The man stopped, staring after Ferrin. Mercer almost ran into him. Peter and I exchanged glances, then followed Ferrin. Dinner was a while ago, after all. Mercer came up behind us shortly, filling a plate lightly, more out of politeness than hunger. We were piling it on and eating at the same time, like we hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“Please stay together. At least until we can find out what’s what,” Mercer growled. He wasn’t used to being at the bottom of the totem pole. He was used to muscling his way through situations. It frustrated him that he couldn’t do that with us.
“We need to eat, Mercer,” said Peter, just before stuffing something in his mouth. He made noises as he chewed it, enjoying whatever it was. I hadn’t been watching, ‘cause I was busy stuffing my own face.
“I had a date tonight,” grumbled Mercer, quietly.
“About time we found you,” said Gordon from behind Mercer. He was nearly hidden by the cop.
“Did you try calling my cell phone?” I asked, then stuffed a mushroom cap with cheese and crab in my mouth and nearly gagged trying to swallow it. I didn’t go back for those. “What’s going on, Gordon?”
“Transcontinental council meeting, of sorts,” he said grimly, coming in front of Mercer. “It took a lot of effort, argument, and bruised egos, but we managed it.”
“Why?” I asked, still trying to get as much food down my gullet. “I thought we’d decided on a group of eighteen?”
“We’re trying to mobilize an army to defend ourselves, Seth. We need everyone on board or we’ll lose,” Gordon said, condescendingly.
“So you’re going to build an army and point it at what, Gordon?” I said, equally condescendingly.
A gong sounded somewhere in the background and the pressure in the room changed. Someone shifted the wards around and closed them around the house severely, locking down the house tightly. It was an oppressive feeling that I didn’t like but it was easily ignored. The room also began to clear of extraneous people, the servers and aides. Mercer started for the door, but Ferrin grabbed his arm before he got more than two steps away, forcing him to stay. The ballroom wasn’t very empty once the exodus finished. There were still over a hundred people in the room.
Finally sated, I set my plate down on the edge of the buffet table and looked over the crowd more closely, searching for Kieran and Ethan. Gordon had forgotten us for a moment and gone to his father, who was angling his way toward us with a small group of people in tow. I recognized a few of the people in the group from MacNamara’s. I finally glimpsed Kieran behind Florian trailing behind the Cahills’ group.
We started slowly through the crowd toward them with Ferrin keeping track of Mercer. We made it around Cahill’s group and the crowd opened up. I got a full view of Kieran and Ethan.
I stopped dead in the room, Peter right beside me, stopping just as abruptly. We both just looked at them.
“Peter, are you not seeing what I’m not seeing?” I asked quietly.
“Yes, Seth, I believe I am not,” he answered.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this, Peter.”
“Doesn’t look like we’ve got much choice, does it?” he said.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What seems to be the problem here,” Ferrin asked softly, slipping in easily between us from behind.
I really didn’t want to say the words. They were dangerous. Powerful. They would begin violence. Here. Now. They would start a war.
“That’s not Ethan and Kieran.”
Chapter 54
“How can you tell?” Ferrin asked.
“By looking at them,” Peter said, mildly.
I pushed on the anchor in my head, searching for Ethan. I could still feel his presence on the other side, but not his consciousness. The anchor was rolling through his “body” on the other side, still a part of him but not fixed in place like it should be. Something was definitely wrong.
“Ethan is unanchored,” I said. “Whoever this is has got to realize you and I will know instantly, right?”
“Will they?” Peter asked. “Or will they assume that since they can’t see us that we can’t see each other either?”
“We haven’t made it a secret that we can see each other,” I said, sighing. I tickled the weapons, bringing them on alert. The Night sword hummed loudly and I felt a crack against my skin. I instantly felt more cognizant of myself; we’d been under a spell. I grabbed Peter’s forearm so the Night could break the spell on Peter, then did the same for Ferrin and Mercer. The Quiver shook and my awareness formed completely to every person in the room. My consciousness shot out of my head and through the room, searching for the spell of complacency that had so effectively lulled us. I found it hidden under several layers of the wards of the room. Removing it without crashing the system wasn’t going to be possible.
“Gavin,” I turned to the Inspector. “This is about to get very ugly. I’m sorry you had to get involved in this. If I can send you back to London, I will, otherwise, keep your head down and stay clear of me. I’ll be ground zero, most likely.”
“What are you doing?” he asked
. He was nearing another panic attack.
I leaned in close and whispered, “Those men over there are pretending to be my brothers. I’m about to call them out in front of all these people.”
He nodded, “Okay.” Then he walked back to the buffet table and started munching very casually. I had to grin at his sudden calmness as I watched him find a chair. Poor guy, he had no idea what was about to happen, but he faked it well.
I drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned to watch the not-Kieran, wondering what he was up to.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” called Bishop from the side of the room. He stood on a raised dais. “If we could have the McClures, Mr. Cahill, Señor Florian, Monsieur Duvies, and Tsu Tsu come to the front, please?”
I wrapped portals around Ferrin, Peter and me and jumped us to the dais ahead of the rest of them. Bishop seemed startled that I could do that. Why, I didn’t know as he’d been aware of me doing it in the past. The Kieran and Ethan look-a-likes were the first up to the dais with Mr. Cahill close behind him. I placed a shield around the dais as soon as Felix cleared the top step, closing it off from the others.
Speaking loudly and clearly, I said to the room, “Pardon me for just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, but there is something we need to clear up before we proceed any further tonight.”
Protests rumbled through the room but apparently no one wanted to be singled out by the boy who threw the Fae Princesses around in public. Bishop grimaced at me.
“What seems to be the problem, Seth?” he asked.
“I have two questions that should be answered before we begin talking about the security of our world, Mr. Bishop,” I said. “I think my companions would agree that they’re very important questions.” Both Ferrin and Peter were nodding in agreement with me.
Bishop sighed and waved to the audience, granting me permission to ask. Like I was asking.