by Shea, K. M.
“I’ll go with the last option,” Raven sighed, plopping down in an arm chair that was cozily situated in a small reading nook.
“Head games?” Aron said, raising his eyebrows. “That’s surprising, I thought you would be with me on my vote for the first option. He spoke to you without uttering a single verbal abuse—that’s huge you know. I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard him speak to a person without insulting their intelligence, mother, and/or magic.”
“It seems too good to be true though. What reason does he have to like me? Who cares if I’m this Amino Acr-whatever. What does that have to do with anything?” Raven asked, waving her arms in the air.
“Maybe he intends to auction you off to the highest bidder? Or perhaps he thinks he’ll be able to market you as part of the library and receive more funding,” Aron shrugged.
“If he needed more funding he wouldn’t have shut down circulation operations and isolated himself from headquarters. No, he’s purposely got himself in a corner. I don’t know if he’s hoping Rachel will give him leverage or fix his problem, but it’s something deeper than funding,” Asher said, shocking Raven with the maturity of his logic.
“Either way I think you’ll be okay. Your black dog will watch your back and make sure you get out of this. What? It’s true,” Aron frowned when Asher glared at him. “I mean, this guy knows about your magic, right?”
Raven slowly shook her head.
“He doesn’t know about your magic?” Aron asked with disbelief.
“No.”
“Well then. You’re just plain screwed.”
“You are such an encouragement, thank you,” Raven said, rolling her eyes.
“I do try.”
“So what will you do?” Asher asked.
Raven sighed and shrugged. “Tell the emissary the director has changed his mind about the cauldron after the attack and wants it out of the library.”
“He’ll believe you?”
“Ooohh yeah.”
Raven threw the door open, deeply satisfied at the striking picture she was sure she made as she placed her hand on her hip and shouted, “DADDY!”
There was a pained groan from the living room and Raven’s mother poked her head into the hallway. “Raven, you’re home early. Could you talk to your father later? He is sleeping right now.”
“He can sleep when he’s dead. DADDY!” Raven said, marching into the living room. She snatched the newspaper her father was using as a shade for his face. “Get up, wake up!”
Her father snorted and wiped at the crusted drool on his chin. “Ra-Rachel. Can’t you wait until later tonight?”
“No, I can’t. This is important—Dad. DAD,” Raven said, shaking her father when he rolled onto his side so his back faced her.
“Whaaaat? Leave me alone!” he grumbled before stuffing his head beneath a couch pillow.
“Rachel?” Nate said, joining Raven in the living room. “Just leave him. He’s had a tough twenty four hours. You aren’t going to get anything out of him.”
“That’s not an option,” Raven grimly said, staring at her father’s back as he faked snoring. “Dad, I can give you the cauldron tomorrow.”
It was the black dog in Raven’s father that turned around and looked up at her, all signs of sleepiness gone. “What?”
“Director Eastgate has agreed to retrieve the cauldron himself and hand it over to your protective custody tomorrow afternoon, after I get out of school,” Raven said.
Her father narrowed his eyes. “He’s toying with us.”
“No, he’s serious.”
Raven’s father thoughtfully rubbed his chin while Nate stared at Raven with wide eyes. “It must be a trap.”
Raven released a puff of air. “It’s not a trap. I would know if it was.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a trap,” her father said, standing up. His eyes sharp and focused. “Perhaps it’s a legal trap of a sort? He can’t possibly hope to physically overcome us,” he paused and swung his focus to Raven. “How did you convince him to do this? How does he even know this is what we want?”
“Fox asked about the cauldron and spoke directly to me during the attack. He’s a library director Dad. He’s not stupid,” Raven said, nervously twisting the fabric of her shirt.
Her father sighed. “True, I was hoping he had forgotten about it in the chaos of the attack. He approached you about it then?”
“Yes. I said the cauldron would be better off in protective custody since Fox and his cohorts are looking for it. He asked what department I worked with, I said the EC and he said he would hand it over to my supervisor tomorrow afternoon.”
Raven’s father narrowed his eyes and looked past her. “…It’s too good to be true. Something’s off about it.”
Yeah. Try a rare form of magic that hasn’t been seen in decades.
Instead of speaking her thoughts Raven shrugged. “Wouldn’t it be better to at least try?”
Her father stood with his usual eerie grace. “Oh we’re going to take the bargain, but I’m calling for backup.”
“Is it really a good idea to bring more people in on the secret?” Raven asked.
“No, but I won’t be. I’ll ask Rocky and Roland to come with me.”
“Oh,” Raven woodenly said. She suspected Rocky was the leak… but was it possible to allude to such information tactfully? “Ah, I didn’t ask the director if more than just you could come though. He might not like it,” Raven said glancing at Nate.
Nate wiped his sweaty face off with the white towel he was holding and nodded.
“We won’t give him a choice,” Raven’s father shrugged.
“Oh. Well, do you really need both? Why not just invite Roland?” Raven suggested. “He has excellent social manners.”
“Yes, but Rocky is the better black dog. If I’m only bringing one of them it would be Rocky,” her father said, heading for the stairs.
Raven trailed after him, glancing over her shoulder at Nate—who followed her. “Ah, you might as well bring both then,” Raven said. If Roland came with at least it would be two verses one provided Rocky didn’t tell the rest of the magic abuser squad. But maybe if they didn’t get notice ahead of time…. “Are you going to tell them now?”
Raven’s father paused and gave Raven a look of disbelief. “Yes,” he said before heading upstairs. “I’ll contact them via magic mirror.”
“You can’t!” Nate said before falling silent, as if the words were unwillingly dragged out of him.
Their father tapped his foot on the top step. “Why not?”
Raven and Nate turned to stare at each other. This was their chance, the moment in which they could come clean and tell their father about Darkmoor Park. Nate swallowed and Raven shook her head slightly.
She had fallen too deeply on this mission. There were too many secrets to be hidden and too many trails to cover. If her father picked at one thread of her cover story the whole thing would unravel. “I have to confirm the pickup with the director first,” Raven said, spitting out the first reason that came to her mind. “He wasn’t certain tomorrow would work.”
Her father frowned deeply. “I knew it was too good to be true, he’s going to try and stall. The library is still open, isn’t it? Call him now.”
“I… can’t,” Raven said. “He’s already gone for the day, and it’s not like I have his cell phone number. And he doesn’t have a magic mirror—he said the KQ government uses them to spy on people,” Raven said, internally apologizing to the young library director. Everyone in the EC was going to think he was a crazed, paranoid man after this mission. “He told me to call him in the morning—before library hours.”
Raven’s father exhaled in frustration.
“Hey, at least I got him to agree to hand the cauldron over,” Raven said, defending herself.
A smile bloomed across her father’s lips, and he and strolled back down the stairs—eliciting a sigh of relief from Nate. He must have heard more of
that meeting than he let on.
“You are right. Well done honey, I’m very proud of you. You have conducted yourself like a real emissary,” her father said, enveloping her in a hug.
Raven winced into her father’s shoulder. She wasn’t like a real emissary at all.
“I’ll let Gram know tonight and notify Rocky and Roland in the morning after you’ve had a chance to speak to your superior. Wonderful job, darling,” her father wished.
Nate raised his eyebrows at Raven before tossing his towel over his shoulder and striding off for the kitchen. “Hey mom, guess what,” he called. “Rachel found the cauldron!”
Chapter 21
The following afternoon Raven and her father pulled up to Saint Cloud and parked in the library parking lot. Rocky and Roland were waiting for them just outside the library.
Rocky leaned against the building, looking hawkish and crabby as usual. Roland shifted his weight in excitement, smiling as he studied the street.
“Thanks for meeting us here. Remember, they don’t know Raven is my daughter,” Raven’s father reminded the men.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rocky barked, his scowl deepening.
“Thanks for watching me this week,” Raven said, removing the dog tags as the wind ruffled her hair. She handed them over to Roland.
“It was no trouble at all. We didn’t even come rescue you once. How boring!” the cheerful agent laughed, tucking the tags in the pocket of his slacks.
“It’s this way,” Raven smiled, entering the building.
The twins were waiting just inside the doors, Raven wasn’t that surprised to see them. She had told them that morning at school that the emissary would be yanking her directly from her last class. She had a suspicion they would wriggle their way to the library before her, particularly when they didn’t show for Japanese class.
“Hey Asher, Aron,” Raven said, smiling as she wiped her UGGs off on a mat.
“So, which one is yours?” Aron asked, eyeing the three EC agents as they entered the library.
Raven blinked and pursed her lips as she thought. “The normal looking one,” she finally said.
“The fatherly businessman? Surprising,” Asher whistled. “I thought for sure it would be the creepily smiling guy.”
Raven frowned at the description of Roland, but her attention was pulled away by her father when he said, “Rachel.”
“Yes sir, sorry,” Raven said, stepping around the twins to lead the way to the kitchen.
Royce was positioned at the sign in desk, watching from beneath the brim of his Stetson hat. He paged through the sign in log, even though the library was officially closed that afternoon to make retrieval of the cauldron easier.
When Raven reached the kitchen door Daire burst out of it, almost knocking her backwards. Asher steadied her, but they both took a large step backwards when Daire hit Raven with a glare so venomous it practically scalded her skin.
The senior page turner said nothing as he swept by, aiming for Royce’s desk. Probably to conspire about the best way to advertise Raven’s magic judging by their churlish looks.
“Brandon should be here soon, but Jeremiah won’t be by until later since he closes tonight. Judging by the condition of our coy prefect, that’s probably a good thing,” Asher muttered as he opened the lounge door for Raven and her entourage of spies.
Inside the kitchen was Director Eastgate (not a surprise) and Alison Morris (who was a surprise). Alison, nursing a can of soda, saluted the director with two fingers. “I think you know what you’re doing, and it’s cool,” she said to Director Eastgate before grinning at Raven. “Hey Cream Puff,” she said as she strode past Roland to slip out of the still open door. It shut behind her.
“Rachel, excellent. Shall we get going?” Director Eastgate said.
“Ah, yes sir. This is—,” Raven started before the director interrupted her.
“I’m sure they all have fascinating names, but I don’t care who they are. I only want to see their badges,” the director said, folding his arms across his chest.
Rocky, Roland, and Raven’s dad rolled up the left sleeve of their shirts. They flexed their wrists before muttering and extending their hands, palm up. Luminous gobs of blue hovered over their palms before forming into letters and a 3D picture of each agent.
It was the black dog identification code—a type of magic that couldn’t be forged because it was imbedded in each dog.
“Fine. You three,” Director said, flicking a finger at Raven’s dad, Rocky, and Roland. “Sit. Stay. Move and the nearest book will kill you. Rachel, come,” Director Eastgate said before sauntering down the hallway.
Aron waited until the director was a safe distance away before pantomiming a panting dog and softly barking.
Asher play growled and snapped at him.
“Page turner Montamos One and Two. Continue your antics and stay behind, or start moving, now,” Director Eastgate said without turning around.
Raven and the twins bolted down the hallway after their boss. Raven glanced over her shoulder to wave at her father before they disappeared around the corner.
The director already had a door open—a full length painting that swung off the wall.
“Wow, we didn’t know about this one,” Asher said with a whistle.
“I’m sure, now get in,” the director coldly said before rustily smiling at Raven. “Watch your step,” he warned her.
The twins hopped in, lighting up their rings, and Raven was right behind them, thankful for her UGGs. She lit up her ring and held it out for the director as he swung the painting shut before lighting up his own ring.
“Um, it’s like, a dead end,” Asher said awkwardly from the front.
Director Eastgate wordlessly passed Raven and the brothers and walked straight through the brick wall at the end of the small, closet-like structure.
“Well,” Aron said. “That was unexpected.’
The director stuck his head back through the illusionary surface to scowl. “Stop wasting air and start moving,” before disappearing again.
“Now we know where Daire gets it from,” Asher muttered to Raven before jumping through the wall.
Aron bowed at Raven with a complicated flourish. “After you Madame—ACK,” he said when his twin reached out of the brick wall and yanked him through.
Raven chuckled and passed through the illusion—which brushed at her skin like a thousand feathers.
“This way, please,” the director said in a cold voice, leading the way.
Asher opened his mouth to speak but Aron elbowed him, shook his head, and followed the director.
Raven trailed Aron, and Asher took the back, plodding along in relative silence. After some minutes of walking—passing through intersections and twisting passages—they came to a stop at the bottom of a steep incline.
The twins squirmed, eager grins flashing on their faces as they watched the director—clearly hoping he would reveal the secret of bypassing the magic of the familiar, unending incline.
Director Eastgate ignored them as usual and took a few steps up the incline. He froze and lifted his gaze up, scowling into the darkness. “Synasfel,” he called, his page turner voice deep and booming.
The tunnel was silent.
The director leaned back on his heels and frowned. “Synasfel,” he said before shouting in his page turner voice. His words were twisting and complex, but brushed at Raven like silk.
Raven frowned, glancing at the twins when Aron bumped her. “Can you understand him?” the younger twin asked as the director continued his monologue.
Raven shook her head and whispered, “No. It sounds like Latin, but it’s certainly no dialect I know of.”
“Might be elvish, it’s got that wild magic feel to it,” Asher offered, his eyes hooked on their boss.
Director Eastgate clenched his hands into fists as he shouted, pausing when something sounded from deep within the tunnel. It was loud and clear like a trumpet, but even Raven could hear th
e negative reply in the musical note.
The director scowled and shouted louder, the syllables of his words growing sharp like the edge of a sword. When the musical trumpeting sounded again the director shouted over it, throwing his hand in the air in an expressive gesture.
Finally both the director and the projecting noise fell silent. Director Eastgate breathed heavily in the silence. After a minute there was a flippant, quick trumpet, and the director straightened, tidying his appearance. “We may proceed,” he said after clearing his throat.
The twins avoided his gaze, but Raven nodded and followed him up the incline. The twins trailed after her, whistling when they reached the top of the incline. Ironically, the tunnel immediately banked down in a slope so steep Raven had to keep a hand on the wall to steady herself.
The director stopped at a steel door posted in the seemingly endless hallway. Chains and bolts hung from it, and Raven uncomfortably itched her arm as the director spoke to it in the same slippery language he spoke at the incline.
Director Eastgate frowned when nothing happened and kicked the door. It clanged and sprung open, almost bashing Aron in the face.
The director walked through the open door, pausing to motion for Raven to follow him. The twins scrambled to cut in front of her, their eyes wide as they shook with excitement.
They walked down a small, cramped passageway, and the twins stopped when the hallway opened up into the Winter Vault. Aron fish mouthed, but Asher frowned, his forehead wrinkling. “What the heck is this?” he barked.
“The Winter Vault, dolt,” the director said from further in the room.
Raven squirmed past the twins to get her first good look of the room. She shared Aron’s amazement and Asher’s disbelief.
Raven thought the Winter Vault would be a windowless room stuffed with magical books and artifacts, like a bank vault.
It was not.
The Winter Vault was actually a chapel. The room was long and rectangular. The ceiling was vaulted, supported by marble pillars, the wooden molding was leafed with gold. The floor was perfectly polished marble. A red carpet was spread over the top, diving between the rows of elegantly carved pews that led the way up to the front. The back of the room, what would be the pulpit in a real chapel, was lit by a magnificent skylight. The rest of the chapel was illuminated by white colored flames, which sat in golden bowls that hung from the marble support pillars.