The Book of Betrayal

by Melissa McShane

  “Goodbye,” I said, and with one final kiss he was gone. I locked the door and set the alarm and trudged upstairs to my bed. It still smelled like him, and I lay on my stomach, breathing him in, until I started to fall asleep. Then I rolled over and settled in for the night. Damn the Accords anyway. There had to be some way for me to be with Malcolm openly, no more of this sneaking around. But nothing I’d learned had given me that secret. The only thing I could see making a change would be for me to admit to the Board of Neutralities what we’d been doing, and that would lose me Abernathy’s. Malcolm feared it might cost me my life, but I didn’t think that was likely. Probably. But losing Abernathy’s…I loved the store almost as much as I loved Malcolm, and I hated that I was being forced to choose between them.

  Eventually I drifted off to sleep, where I dreamed again of the giant polar bear, only this time it had Malcolm in its paws and raked a deep wound in his chest, exposing his heart. His heart was made of clockwork and pumped blue blood like an invader’s, and when he opened his eyes they were inky black the way the disguised invader’s had been. I tried to run, but he was faster, and just as he had me locked in his claws, I woke, sweating and terrified. It was 6:43. What a wonderful start to the day.

  I took a long, hot soak, relishing how the water relaxed my muscles, then toweled off and put on my bathrobe. I had hours before I had to open the store, and I was going to take advantage of every one of them. I made coffee, toasted an English muffin, and drenched the latter in butter and honey that dribbled off the edges. It tasted like the nectar of the gods, hot and liquid, and I sipped and nibbled and felt the lingering effects of the dream fade. Malcolm was healed and I would see him again soon. Nothing else mattered.

  My phone rang. I sucked honey off my finger and gingerly answered it. “Hi, Viv.”

  “Did Jeremiah come in for an augury recently?”

  “Not terribly recently. Last Wednesday. Why?”

  “I had a gig last night and he didn’t come. And now he’s not answering his phone.”

  “He’s probably just on the hunt. Sometimes that can take a couple of days.”

  “He always tells me when he’s leaving, though. I spoke to him Saturday afternoon, and he promised he’d be at the gig.”

  I swallowed my last bite of muffin. “Maybe something came up. I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

  “Hel, I’m worried. Didn’t you say there’d been disappearances?”

  “It’s only been, what, three days? That’s not long enough to get worried.” I hoped.

  “But he said they wanted him to go in to be tested, and he didn’t sound enthusiastic.”

  “It’s not hugs and puppies, Viv. Why would he be enthusiastic?” But I was starting to worry, myself. “Look, I’ll call the node and see if he went in for the test. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Thanks. I gotta go. You’ll do it soon, right?”

  “Viv, calm down.”

  I decided I didn’t want to wait on Lucia’s call-returning schedule and called Dave Henry. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “What? Oh, no, Abernathy’s is fine. This is more of a personal call. Did Jeremiah Washburn come in to be tested?”

  There was a pause. “You should talk to Lucia,” Dave said.

  “But I—”

  “Why are you asking about Washburn?” Lucia demanded. Her voice sounded hoarse again, like she was coming down with something. Or had been crying. It left me feeling uncomfortable, like I’d seen her naked.

  “Viv hasn’t heard from him in a couple of days. He…he passed the test, right?”

  “I don’t know. He was supposed to arrive Saturday night and he never showed. He fled from the enforcers I sent to remind him of his…appointment. I take that as an admission of guilt.”

  “Lucia! He might…it could be anything…”

  “I’ve issued a warrant for his arrest. We’ll test him and then we’ll know for sure. Until then,” Lucia said, her voice even raspier, “I consider Washburn one of the enemy.”

  12

  “He’s not a traitor,” Viv insisted for at least the hundredth time. She sat perched on the stool behind the cash register and twisted her skirt in her hands. “He can’t possibly be.”

  “What worries me are the ones who turn up dead,” Judy said. Viv turned a stricken look on her. “Sorry. That was insensitive. I just mean, if he’s not a traitor, his life could be in danger.”

  It was twelve-thirty, and the Nicollien morning rush was over, but none of us felt much like lunch. “We should find him,” Viv said. “He needs to prove he’s innocent. Couldn’t you get the Kellers to find him? Or Harriet, I guess.”

  “Harriet’s still in custody. And even if she found him, he’d have moved on before we could get there,” Judy said. “Jeremiah’s a wood magus and a front-line fighter. They’re all good at staying concealed, even here in the city. And there are places as overgrown as the countryside here, too.”

  “What about his phone?” I said. “He’d have that on him, right?”

  “Unless he ditched it to keep from being tracked.”

  “Oh. Good point.” I paced from the counter to the front door and back. “Viv’s right. We have to do something.”

  “I’m not saying I disagree,” Judy said, “but what can we do?”

  “What about his familiar?” I said.

  “What about it?”

  “We could track its harness, right? I mean, Jeremiah said it had to be attached to him, and that sounds to me like it has to be unique to him. If we had some way to follow that attunement…”

  Judy was silent. “It would work,” she said, “but I’ve never heard of anyone doing it before. And I bet Lucia would tell us to mind our own business if we asked for her help.”

  “Do we need her help?” Viv asked. “We could just ask whoever’s in charge of…of familiar binding, or whatever it’s called.”

  “I don’t know,” Judy said. “We should probably leave this to the professionals. If Jeremiah’s a traitor—”

  “Which he isn’t.”

  “If he’s a traitor, and we find him, he might try to kill us. He could turn his familiar on us if he wanted. None of us are fighters, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I can’t imagine Jeremiah turning on us, even if he is a traitor,” I said.

  “Helena, you’ve only known a fraction of the people who turned out to be part of the shadow cabal,” Judy said, her voice bleak. “I had close friends who failed the tests. The woman who tried to kill my father the other day was a trusted ally. These people have spent years hiding in plain sight and they’re really good liars because of it. Their lives are at stake if they’re found out. If Jeremiah’s a traitor, he will probably think his life is more important than ours.”

  “I’d know if Jeremiah believed the invaders are right,” Viv declared. “I think he didn’t disappear on his own. I think he’s being held captive somewhere and he needs our help. Come on. We have to do this.”

  I looked at Judy. “His life could be in danger.”

  “Our lives will be in danger,” Judy said. She sighed. “All right. Let me make some phone calls. At the very least, Father needs to know this is a possible way to track down our missing magi.”

  Viv squealed and hugged Judy, who flushed red. “Can we go tonight? We shouldn’t waste more time.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. It’s not a waste of time if we’re careful.” Judy strode off in the direction of the office.

  Viv returned to her seat behind the register. “I’m so worried about him. You don’t think he—”

  A snap like the world’s biggest bug zapper cracked the still air outside. I whipped around to see a woman dressed in faded jeans and a thick sweater, her hand still on the doorknob, sagging to her knees outside the door. “What—” I began.

  Realization struck like the bug zapper. “Stay away from the door!” I shouted at Viv, who’d taken a few steps toward the injured woman. I yanked out my phone and c
alled Malcolm. “The door trap caught an invader,” I said when he answered. “It’s paralyzed for now, but we need someone here immediately.”

  “On my way,” Malcolm said, and the line went dead. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and moved to where I could see the fallen woman. She still had hold of the doorknob and was on her knees with her head pressed against the wooden frame. A young man had stopped and was trying to remove her death grip on the knob, to help her lie down. I wanted to shriek at him to stay away, but that would just make me look crazy. Instead, I gripped Viv’s hand and watched for signs of returning life.

  “It looks just like a person,” Viv whispered. “How can you know it’s an invader?”

  “The security system only works on invaders. Could you imagine if it zapped all our customers?”

  “Like you don’t have some customers you wish you could zap.”

  I giggled nervously. Had the woman twitched? The man looked up at us and shouted, “Call 911! She’s not breathing!”

  I waved my phone at him, realized if I’d called 911 I’d still be on the phone, and pretended to punch numbers. I held the phone to my ear and said, “I hope Malcolm gets here soon. The installers didn’t say how long it would keep the thing inert. If it wakes up first…”

  Minutes passed. I heard Judy’s footsteps tapping along the linoleum toward us. “I set it up,” she said. “What are you looking at?”

  “The security system caught an invader,” I said without turning around. I was afraid, irrationally, that if I took my eyes off it, it would leap to its feet and run away, and I wanted it caught.

  “Where are they?” the young man shouted at me. I shrugged and hoped I looked sufficiently terrified. If the invader woke, it might kill the young man. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d never asked if the door trap reset itself after discharging. If it was dormant, the thing could enter the store, leave its human suit, and trigger Abernathy’s wards, destroying the store and taking all of us with it. I scanned the street, looking for Malcolm’s car—but his car was wrecked in the accident, and I had no idea if it had been salvaged or what he might be driving now.

  The young man crouched beside the fallen “woman.” “She’s still not breathing. I think she’s dead,” he called out. More people had gathered, increasing my tension and fear. Someone else tried removing the thing’s hand from the doorknob, with no success. Malcolm, hurry.

  The crowd exclaimed and took a step back. I looked down at the invader and saw it twitch, its shoulders jerking back like an insect’s legs. Judy grabbed my hand and crushed it. The thing stood slowly, all its joints moving independently of each other like a creaking ladder. It seemed to be having trouble freeing itself from the doorknob, as if the knob were coated in something sticky, but finally it broke free and stood there, shaking its hand like it hurt. It glared at me through the door. “Well played, custodian,” it hissed. “Don’t think you’ve won. We’ll think of something else.”

  It took a few wobbly steps away from the door. The crowd, possibly sensing something strange had happened, backed away to give it room. The thing glanced over its shoulder at me. Its human mouth smiled widely, revealing teeth stained black. Its arm whipped out, and it grabbed an onlooker by the collar, dragged the helpless man close, and pressed its lips to the man’s mouth in a horrible kiss.

  The crowd murmured, shifting in a confused way. The invader released the man and shoved him aside, staggering a bit as if drunk. I flung the door open and rushed out, not thinking of the danger. “Stop it—her!” I shouted.

  The thing turned around. Its solid black eyes gleamed. “Foolish girl,” it said, teetering on unsteady feet. “You should have stayed inside.”

  I backed up and tripped over the fallen man the invader had kissed. He was elderly, and he looked confused. I staggered and managed to keep my feet under me, putting the old man between me and the invader. The thing took a few more staggering steps, its foot coming down on the man’s hand and making him cry out in pain. Everyone else just stood there like statues, leaving me defenseless before it.

  Someone took me by the shoulders and thrust me behind him. “Get back inside,” Malcolm said. He was dressed in suit and tie, but he took up a fighting stance, both his hands empty. I thought briefly about disobeying him, helping him somehow, then remembered I wasn’t a fighter and I’d probably just get us both killed, me for being incompetent and him for worrying about me. I ran back inside and slammed the door.

  “What’s he going to do?” Viv said.

  “Fight the creature, of course.”

  “But how? He can’t make an illusion to protect himself from all those people watching, and if he kills it, won’t it look like he killed a woman?”

  I swore. Viv was totally right. Malcolm was in an untenable position. He didn’t even have a weapon—or, more likely, he had a weapon he couldn’t use in public. I pressed my forehead against the newly-replaced glass and prayed for a miracle.

  It was a still tableau: Malcolm facing off against the “woman”, whose face and hands were stained dark now with a viscous liquid oozing from her eyes, ears, nose and nailbeds; the old man lying helpless on the ground between them, struggling to get up; the crowd of onlookers, completely useless. Malcolm balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, his arms held at the ready, his fists loosely closed. The invader swayed drunkenly, but its black eyes were still fixed on Malcolm, weeping oily tears.

  It happened so suddenly I jerked back from the window in shock. Malcolm leapt at the invader, driving one fist into its stomach and wrapping his arm around the creature’s neck in the next motion. The thing howled and tried to break free, but Malcolm bore it to the ground and pinned it. One or two people screamed, and someone went forward to try to drag Malcolm away from the “woman.” Malcolm elbowed him sharply in the chest.

  “This woman is ill,” he said, his voice muffled by the glass. “She is extremely contagious. I suggest—”

  I screamed, “Malcolm, look out!”

  Dark tendrils that glistened in the afternoon sunlight emerged from the thing’s widening mouth. For a moment, Malcolm’s grip on the thing tightened. The tendrils flailed about, feeling for a victim, and one brushed Malcolm’s face. He cried out and released the invader, taking a few stumbling steps away from it. With one hand he gingerly touched his cheek. Then he snarled, drawing a long knife from his sleeve and provoking cries of alarm from the useless onlookers. If only they’d have the sense to run away!

  Distantly, I heard sirens approaching. Wonderful. Someone had actually called 911. Now there would be deaths. Malcolm stood, his knife held ready. The invader’s human body twitched, its mouth growing even wider, and the thing continued crawling out of it. It was a dull rust-orange color with a rough, pimply exoskeleton and tendrils where its legs should be. The human body tore as it forced its way through. I realized I was holding Viv and Judy’s hands and released them, rubbing feeling back into my hands.

  The ambulance pulled up even with the front door. A couple of paramedics jumped out of the rear door, armed—armed?—with long, skinny rifles they brought to bear on the invader. Two shots echoed in the street, and darts erupted from the thing’s arm and throat. Immediately the paramedics began reloading, and Malcolm leaped forward to grab the invader before it could fall. I might have been the only one in a position to see Malcolm’s knife pressed against its side, poised to kill if that became necessary.

  But the invader sagged in Malcolm’s arms, its black eyes still wide open, half its disgusting body falling out of its host’s mouth. Malcolm lifted it, keeping well away from the limp tendrils, and carried it to the back of the ambulance. The paramedics joined him there, and I saw them having a conversation I was too far away to hear.

  I saw one of the onlookers, a scruffy-looking young man with a long striped scarf wrapped several times around his neck, kneel beside the old man, who had gone unconscious. Long streaks of watery black extended from the corners of his eyes, like he’d wept tears of black oil. I
gasped and pounded on the window. “Don’t touch him! He might be contagious!”

  The scruffy young man looked up at me in confusion. “Contagious! Like the woman!” I shouted, pointing at the ambulance. The young man jerked away and wiped his hands on his pants, though I was pretty sure he hadn’t touched the fallen man.

  Malcolm finished his conversation with the “paramedics” and returned to the unconscious old man, bending to lift him into his arms. “Nobody leave,” he commanded, and carried the old man to the ambulance. Sure enough, people began drifting away. “Hey!” Judy shouted, “he said to stay here!”

  “Do we really want them to stay?” Viv said.

  “Probably not. But Campbell might have something in mind.”

  We watched Malcolm shut the doors of the ambulance and wave to the driver, who let out a few squawks with the horn and drove away. A few people remained, among them the scruffy young man. “Did any of you touch one of them?” he said. They all shook their heads, the scruffy man most vehemently. “You’re all very lucky,” Malcolm continued. “The disease is contagious, and you all saw how it affected that woman. I’ll need your contact information, and someone will be in touch with you. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, do you understand?”

  “If there’s an outbreak, people deserve to know,” the scruffy man said.

  “One ill person does not an outbreak make,” Malcolm said. “But I assure you the public will be informed. Watch the news at six. If there’s danger, it will be announced then. If not…then we’ve contained the problem. Now, your contact information.”

  Malcolm scribbled in a small notebook he pulled from inside his suit coat. Then he said, “Thank you for your cooperation,” and came inside, shutting the door behind him. I took a step toward him, and he held up his hand, stopping me before I could throw my arms around his neck. I flushed with embarrassment. One invader attack and suddenly I’d forgotten all the caution we took in our secret relationship.

  “Your suit is ruined,” Judy pointed out.