Ten minutes later Jeremiah came trooping through the stacks, carrying a duffel bag full of things that made strange knobby lumps on its surface. “That’s a lot of stuff for one familiar,” I said. “What does it take to…what do you call it? Bonding?”
“Binding,” Jeremiah said, setting the duffel on the floor. “This stuff is just to get the familiar used to me. Most of the hard work is done before I get there. A bone magus alters the invader’s body to make it a little more terrestrial, then another magus puts the harness on it and seals it shut. The harness acts like an aegis in reverse, preventing the familiar from being able to use magic.”
“All magic?”
“It can only use magic as directed by its owner. The binding attaches a familiar—technically, its harness—to a magus. That will let me wield its magic on my behalf. It also keeps the familiar from wandering too far away if it gets off its leash. Not that it matters, because it can’t hurt anyone regardless of whether it’s leashed, but tracking down a lost familiar could otherwise be a huge pain in the ass.” Jeremiah buttoned his coat back up. “You really don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I killed half a dozen familiars who were trying to suck the magic out of my body. I know, it’s different, and the bindings won’t fail again, but I’m not going to like familiars no matter how safe you promise me they are. You don’t let yours near Viv, do you?”
“I don’t. But that’s as a courtesy to you, not because I think she’s in danger. They’re just tools, Helena. We may make them look like animals, but they don’t feel or think the way we do.”
I remembered the malevolent gaze of ruby-red eyes in a face that saw me only as an obstacle to its plans. “I believe it.”
Jeremiah picked up his bag. “See you later,” he said, and bumped his way through the door, holding it open for Judy, whose cheeks and nose were pink with cold.
“Sorry that took so long,” she said. “I met some friends and we…” She wiped her nose, and I realized she’d been crying. “We were talking about a couple of people who died, remembering them.”
“I understand,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “Look, if you need to go home early—”
“I’d rather not be home right now. Father’s got analysts going over all the information he has on the steel aegis failure, and I’d have trouble not telling them the truth. When will Lucia let it all come out?”
“I don’t know. She did say she proved your father innocent of treachery, isn’t that something?”
“A small something.” But she looked suddenly more cheerful. “What did Jeremiah want?”
“Safe deposit box. He’s taking on a familiar tonight.”
Judy glanced over her shoulder at the door. “Oh, I wish I’d known, I would have wished him luck.”
“I didn’t think it was all that complicated a ritual.”
“It’s not. It’s just traditional. More now than before, given what happened with the familiars. I thought he’d sworn not to take another.”
“That’s what I said. He said he needed to be a more effective hunter.”
Judy shrugged. “Let’s have lunch. I’m starving.”
The rest of the day wore on uneventfully. It was one of those quiet days I treasured as a memory for the days when it wasn’t so quiet and the Wardens drove me crazy with their demands. The gray skies cleared around four, filling the air with sunlight that warmed the store physically and emotionally. I swept the floor without resenting it, for once; I felt contemplative, at peace with myself and the universe, and even my worries about Malcolm were at a distance.
I swept my way out of the stacks just as my phone rang. Derrick. I let the broom fall and snatched my phone up with trembling fingers. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m calling to have you clear your schedule for tomorrow night. We can get you in to see him.”
I gripped my phone more tightly. “What do I have to do?”
“Meet us at the far side of the main parking lot at Providence at 9:30. We’ll show you what you have to do from there.”
“This sounds ominous. Will magic be involved?”
“Of course. You’ll be going in after normal visiting hours and…well, you won’t look like yourself.”
“I guess I might have expected that. You’ll disguise me?”
“Sort of. They were looking for you at first—the brown-haired girl who came in with him.”
“I don’t have brown hair.”
“Your hair looks darker when it’s wet. Anyway, Madeleine Campbell became a teensy bit obsessed with finding you—who was Malcolm with and why was she so ashamed that she snuck away, but really she wants to know who he’s dating that isn’t Andria. But half the people who encountered you couldn’t remember what you looked like, and the other half didn’t think it was such a big deal. So she’s backed off, for now.”
“What did Malcolm say?”
Derrick chuckled. “He gave a good impression of a man whose memory was fuddled by head trauma. Said you were a girl he offered to give a ride to on account of the rain and he didn’t remember your name. It was clear to everyone but Madeleine that he enjoyed rattling her cage.”
“It sounds like he’s regained his sense of humor.”
“More or less. I did mention what a crappy patient he is, right? He’s impatient and cranky as hell and I hope and pray seeing you will settle him down a bit. If he could get away with rising from his bed like Lazarus from the grave and walking away, he’d do it.”
“Have you told him what’s been going on?”
“Some of it. The general details, not all the mess about trying to figure out why the steel aegises failed. I don’t want him more riled up than he already is, and knowing the truth…he’ll just get more antsy to be well and out of there.”
“I can’t wait. You’re sure it can’t be tonight?”
“Quincy won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon. It’s a powerful illusion and a complicated one. 9:30, all right? Don’t be late.”
I said goodbye and hung up. I wasn’t going to be able to contain myself until 9:30 tomorrow night. I wanted to go now…but I could be patient. I’d have to be.
6
The clock on my dash read 9:27. My phone said it was 9:26. My impatient heart told me it was well after 9:30 and Derrick and Olivia were late, I wasn’t going to see Malcolm tonight and…. I checked my phone time again. 9:27. I scanned the parking lot, which was about half full. I was the only car parked at the top of the lot, and I had a clear view of the front door as well as any other cars that might, for example, pull up beside mine and contain magi who could get me in to see Malcolm without being noticed.
The orange-red brick of the Providence Portland Medical Center was darker at night and the pillars in front of the main entrance seemed thicker than in the daytime, as if they were sentries guarding the patients’ rest. Off to one side was the entrance to the emergency room, not the ambulance entrance but the one for ordinary people. As I watched, someone dressed in scrubs came out of the ER entrance and strolled up the sidewalk toward me. I shrank down, then sat up, unsure which action would make me look less conspicuous. But he just turned the corner and got into a sporty little Kia parked off to my left and drove away. Hopefully this meant no one would care that I was sitting here in my car, doing nothing.
I thought about just going in. Who in the hospital would care about an ordinary woman visiting a sick friend? But no, Derrick had said this was outside normal visiting hours, not that I knew what those were, and I was pretty sure the hospital would care about that.
A black SUV pulled into the parking lot and drove up the incline until it noodled up to my car. The passenger side window rolled down. “Get in,” Derrick said.
I locked my car and climbed up into the warm cab of the SUV. “Hi, Olivia. Hi, Hector. Thanks for doing this.”
“It’s all selfishness,” Olivia Quincy said, putting the car in park and half-turning around in the driver’s seat. �
�We think you have a good chance of getting him to stop complaining at us about how long he’s got to stay in the hospital. He’s nice to the staff, but he figures risking life and limb together exempts us from the niceness policy.”
“I offered to sit on his head, but they wouldn’t let me,” Hector Canales said, his grizzled hair all that was visible of him in the darkness of the back seat next to me. An enormous gun with a bell-shaped muzzle lay across the seat between us. Hector was no magus, but a weapons expert whose passion in life was designing and improving semi-magical weapons for use against invaders.
“No point killing him before he’s in a condition to fight back,” Derrick said. “All right. Quincy?”
Olivia extended her hand to me. She held a gold chain from which dangled an enormous gold pendant decorated with filigree, at least two inches across and half an inch thick. She took the pendant in her other hand and squeezed, popping it open to reveal a hollow space inside. “Take this and put the chain around your neck. You’ll wear the pendant under your clothes, next to your skin—no, not yet.”
She brought out a little gray jewelry box, the kind engagement rings come in, and snapped it open. Inside lay a pink and green origami butterfly, made of dozens of intricate folds with two tiny curled antennae topping its head. Olivia picked it up with a pair of tweezers and gently dropped it into the locket. It twitched its wings once. The antennae quivered. Then it lay still again. Olivia shut the locket and handed it to me.
“This will give you two hours of invisibility,” she said. “It refracts the light around you so you’ll seem like a heat shimmer. You’re not immaterial, of course, and if someone bumps into you there’s a chance they’ll see through the illusion. Which is why we’re doing this at night. That, and some Campbell or other is almost always at his bedside during the day.”
“Which explains some of his irritability,” Hector said. “Madeleine Campbell is enough to give me indigestion, and she’s not even related to me.”
I put the chain around my neck and dropped the locket into my shirt, where it nestled inside my bra and made a cool spot. “Two hours as of a few seconds ago?”
“Yes,” Derrick said. “But Canales rigged the locket to start feeling cold about twenty minutes before the illusion is up, so you won’t have to stare at the clock.”
I realized Derrick’s eyes were fixed firmly on a spot between my eye and my left ear. I glanced down at my hands. “Am I invisible now? Is seeing myself part of the illusion, or is it just my ability?”
“Your ability,” Olivia said. “It also gives off a slight don’t-look-here energy that will gently direct people’s attention elsewhere. It should keep the nurses from coming in to check on Campbell while you’re there, but don’t be too dependent on it.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Oh, and one other thing,” Derrick said as I was about to exit the car. “The door’s sensors won’t perceive you easily. One of us will trigger the doors for you on the way in, but you’re on your own getting out.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. What do you mean, not easily?”
“The heat shimmer will set them off, but it’s not very strong and you may have to walk back and forth in front of the doors a few times to trigger them. It’s a design flaw, but it can’t be helped.”
I was too impatient to care. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Shouldn’t I go now?”
“Unless you have any other questions.”
“I don’t think so.”
Derrick held out a small piece of note paper. “The room number, and how to get to it,” he said. I took it from him, and he twitched, making me wonder how the exchange had looked to him. Had the paper vanished immediately, or had it faded out? Either way, it had to look startling.
We drove down in front of the doors, and Derrick got out and walked quickly toward the doors, outpacing me. I had to hurry to catch up. The first set of doors slid open smoothly, then the second. “Good luck,” Derrick whispered, and turned around and left.
I stood for a moment in the reception area to get my bearings. It didn’t smell of anything in particular and looked more like a hotel lobby than a hospital, with a sunken area just ahead of me filled with couches and chairs and a big square planter in the middle. To my right was the door to the chapel, flanked by a statue of Our Lady of Providence. The reception desk—was that what it was called in a hospital?—was to the left, and it was empty. So far, so good.
I followed Derrick’s directions to the stairs, bypassing the elevators, which were all colored, blue or gray or yellow or green. I pictured them winding their way through the hospital like lines on a subway map. Though I was sure they didn’t run sideways or diagonally the way the ones at the tribunal building down by the Morrison Bridge did.
At the far end of the hall, someone clad in black from head to toe appeared, heading my way. A nun, wandering the halls—I’d never seen a habit like hers, not that I knew anything about nuns except from movies like Black Narcissus, and probably most of that was wrong.
I walked a little faster, hoping to reach the stairs before she did. I had my hand on the door handle before I realized I couldn’t open the door with her practically on top of me. I pressed myself into the recess and waited for her to pass. She was so close to the wall I was sure she’d brush up against me. She was looking straight ahead, not at me or my heat shimmer or whatever she might see of me, and I sucked in a breath and flattened myself as best I could.
As she drew even with where I stood, her steps slowed, until finally she stood in front of the door, inches from me. I watched her hand, tucked into her habit. If she decided to use the stairs…I’d just have to move quickly, and pray for concealment. Though it was unlikely God would grant a prayer said to counter one of His servants.
With a little shake of the head, the nun moved on, but I didn’t let out my breath until I grew dizzy. Then I eased open the door and backed into the chilly stairwell, letting the door close slowly and silently in front of me. My footsteps echoed quietly as I ran up the steps, hoping nobody else was using them at this hour. I felt my precious minutes slipping away. I checked the time: just 9:37. It had only felt like an hour.
The second floor was as empty and still as the first, though the air smelled cleaner, with a hint of antiseptic. I passed a couple of nurses, male and female, having a quiet conversation, then the nursing station, where another nurse sat typing at a computer, but no one noticed my passing.
I looked at the paper Derrick had given me and began checking room numbers, my heart beating faster with excitement. This one…no, the next. I put my hand on the door’s handle, glanced around to see if I was being observed, then opened it a crack and let myself in.
The room was dimly lit, the window blinds closed, but it didn’t matter because I had eyes only for the bed in the middle of the room and its occupant. Malcolm lay sleeping, his dark hair tousled against the white pillow, and I stood for a moment, drinking him in. His right arm was encased to above the elbow in a cast that was propped up on a pillow, his face was scratched, and there was a bruise extending from his right temple down his cheek. The hospital gown, what I could see of it, looked comical on his powerful form. Tubes and wires extended from his left arm toward a couple of machines. He looked awful. He looked wonderful. I felt tears come to my eyes and scrubbed them away harshly. Crying was idiotic. And I was running out of time.
I took a few steps toward the bed and leaned over, gently shaking him and then snatching my hand away, remembering what had happened the last time I’d woken him unexpectedly. “Malcolm. Wake up.”
Malcolm jerked awake, his right arm moving toward me, and he gasped in pain. “Helena?” he said. He cast his eyes about the room.
“I’m here,” I said.
He swiftly turned his head and reached toward me with his left hand. “I meant to be awake when you arrived, but they give me pain medication just before bedtime.”
“That’s all right. I’m sorry about distur
bing your rest.”
“I’d rather have you than sleep. Quincy said you’d be invisible, but I somehow thought I’d be able to see you.”
“I’d take off the pendant, but I’m afraid that would destroy the magic. I’m sorry.”
His groping fingers found my elbow, then slid upward along my arm to my shoulder and then to my face. “So long as you are here, I don’t care if I can see you,” he said. “You’re well? Tinsley said you were healed from the accident—Helena, I am so sorry—”
“Close your eyes,” I said, and leaned in to kiss him. He smelled of soap and antiseptic, not at all like himself, but his kiss was the same, his lips parting for mine in a way that made me want more. He slid his free hand around my waist and pulled me closer until I overbalanced and had to put my hand out to support myself on the pillow beside his head.
“Come on up here,” he whispered, shifting over awkwardly. He found the bed controls and the head of the bed began rising.
“You’re sure it won’t hurt you?” His face was creased with pain, and he closed his eyes once as if even that motion hurt him.
“Just don’t lean on my chest or right arm—there.”
I sat on the edge of his bed and scooted around until I lay in the curve of his left arm, my head tucked up against his neck. I put my arm across his waist and sighed with happiness. “I missed you. I was so worried.”
“Not as worried as I was when I woke up after surgery and had no idea what had happened to you, and no way to find out. I spent—it was only a couple of hours, but it felt like forever before I saw Tinsley and he told me you were safe and unharmed. I’m so sorry, love. I should—”
“You’d better not be about to say something about how you should have driven us to safety. There wasn’t anywhere to go on that freeway, Malcolm. You did your best to protect me while you were having a heart attack, or whatever it was. I don’t blame you for anything.”
The Book of Betrayal Page 6