by E. A. Copen
Nate came to hold me up. “You okay, Laz?”
“Yeah, just the magic in this room is making me woozy.” I shook my head to clear it, but it didn’t make the feeling go away.
“That’s not the magic, mate,” said Josiah behind me.
I lifted my head and found him sitting at a desk nearby. “What is it then?”
Josiah kicked his chair away from the desk and stood, an unlit cigarette pinched between two fingers. Though he was speaking to me, his focus was completely on the open closet door. “I think its Mask. He’s trying to get to Stefan. He’s fighting, but I don’t know if he can win.”
I forced myself forward a few steps, despite the awful feeling in my gut. Stefan sat in the center of a circle, his hands resting on his knees, eyes closed as if he were meditating. His forehead, neck, and back were all slick with sweat, despite the relative cool of the dark building, and the fact that he’d stripped down to just a pair of shorts. Every few seconds, a muscle somewhere twitched and a red mark would appear on his skin, as if someone had pinched him. Dried blood had crusted under each nostril.
I held myself up using the door frame. “What can we do to help?”
“Nothing. He has to come out of it on his own.”
“Then why am I here?” I turned on Josiah.
He just gave me an exhausted look and pushed his hand through his hair. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t call you. That was your detective friend.”
I looked around the room. Drake was nowhere to be found. “Well then, where is he?”
“Don’t move!” The shout echoed down the hall into the small office. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot!”
Josiah and I looked at each other before we both bolted from the office, out into the hall and toward the stairs leading to the lobby. We rounded the corner at the same time and slid to a stop at the top of the stairs. Below, standing in the center of the tiled floor of the precinct lobby, just in front of the duty desk, stood Detective Codey, Drake’s partner. His white shirt was stained in varying shades of red, ranging from a rusty black to a fresh crimson. Black, tarry fluid dripped from the corners of his eyes like tears. In his outstretched hand, he held a small button, his thumb pressed firmly on the red end.
One more step forward and his aim was clear. Strapped to Detective Codey’s chest was a vest full of enough explosives to take out the whole block.
“Don’t shoot!” Drake stepped out from the opposite direction, a coffee cup in one hand. He was armed, but his free hand was nowhere near his gun. Drake gestured to an officer I couldn’t see from where we stood, probably the duty officer. “That’s a dead man’s switch in his hand. If he takes his thumb off that, we all die.”
Codey lifted his head and stared at me with bloodshot eyes. They were still his eyes, though the voice that came out of him no longer belonged to Detective Codey, but the pleading of a broken man. “He made me. Oh, God! He made me! Please, I don’t want to die!”
“Tell us what you want, Codey.” Drake inched forward.
“Stop!” Codey screamed. “For God’s sake, don’t come any closer!”
Drake stopped where he was and glanced back at me. It was a message without words.
“Get everyone out the back,” I said to Josiah. “Hurry.”
“What about you? This whole thing is tits up if you or Finn die.”
“Just go. Make sure Finn goes too.”
Josiah stepped backward, quickly turning to run down the hall.
Codey spun around, focusing again on where I stood. “He wants the Spellweaver. I don’t even know what that is, but he’s in my head, and he won’t stop! Please! Just give him what he wants. I don’t know how much longer I can take the sound. Like claws raking on my soul.”
“Okay, just give us a second. My friend went to go get him,” I lied. Come on, Drake. You’d better have a way to deal with this.
“You’ve got to fight him, Codey,” Drake said, inching forward.
Codey shook his head, sobbing. More black tears trailed down his cheeks. “Don’t you think I tried? For days I’ve been trying. I don’t even remember being sane. But he’s always in there.” He punched his head with his free hand. “I can’t win. No one can.”
“Just calm down, Codey. We’re here to help.” Drake held out his hand in a gesture of peace, squatted and put the cup of coffee on the floor before sliding it toward Codey. “Here.”
“It’s a trick.”
“No trick. Think, Codey. You and me were partners before you got sick. What’s the procedure for dealing with this?”
Codey looked around. “I-I don’t know.”
“Sure you do, Codey. Same bullshit different day. We pass it up the chain and let someone else handle it.” Drake forced a chuckle. Must’ve been an inside joke.
Every time Codey turned away from me, I crept down another step. As long as Drake kept him busy, I could get close.
Then what? The minute he takes his finger off that switch, we get blown to Kingdom come. Our only hope is if I can somehow disarm the bomb, but I don’t know the first damn thing about that. Codey’s not going to let anyone get that close either.
He spun back around and focused on me, so I froze. “He wants me to let go. Blow up. It’s taking everything I’ve got not to.” He looked at his trembling hand in terror.
“Hey, focus on us, okay? Keep fighting him as long as you can. We’re going to try to help.” I glanced past him to see Drake take another few steps, his hand on his gun. I shook my head a subtly as I could.
Drake shifted his weight, ready to tackle Codey. What the hell was he thinking? Was he hoping I’d get the detonator away from him? Jesus, as if I could. But if I didn’t, we were all royally screwed.
I poised to grab it.
Power whipped by my head and struck at the floor near Codey, but missed him.
I spun around. Remy stood on the stairs behind me, her arms outstretched. “Remy, no!”
Codey screamed. A black tentacle burst out of his gut, just below his sternum and shot out to grab Remy by the throat. Panicked gunfire erupted until Drake shouted, “Don’t shoot! I said, don’t fucking shoot!”
I raced back up the stairs to try to free Remy, but just like before, I could no more grasp the shadowy tentacle than I could a cloud. Remy tried to free herself from its grasp with her sword, but it was no use. Not even she could hurt it. The tentacle squeezed her neck until the tears flowed freely and her face was a deep shade of crimson, then jerked her off the stairs, dragging her back to Codey. It dropped her at Codey’s feet before rearing back to strike.
“Stop!” Finn’s voice rang out loud and clear above Codey’s panicked whimpers and Remy’s choking. He stepped out of a shadow on the other side of the room behind Drake, prompting Codey to spin toward him. “Let her go. Mask wants me. Well, here I am. Come get me.”
Another tentacle sprouted from Codey and gripped Finn, pulling him to Codey. He didn’t even fight back.
“Finn!” I rushed down two stairs but halted when he met my eyes.
“It’ll be okay,” Finn said. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been tortured. Just promise me when you rock and roll, you’ll do it in the Corvette from now on, will you? Your car’s ugly.”
It was a clue, a message. Finn was telling me where he’d left the stones, probably in the impound yard. At least they were still out of Mask’s reach, even if our best chance to beat Mask was about to be gone.
I made a fist. “I will.”
“Isn’t that adorable,” Codey choked out in a voice that wasn’t his. “You know what, I think I’ll keep them both for now, just to make sure you behave yourself.” Two more tentacles sprouted, carrying him like long legs toward the exit along with his hostages.
“Remy!” I raced down the stairs, readying a spell, but I couldn’t release it. If I hit Codey, he’d drop the switch, and both Finn and Remy would die in a fiery blaze.
I stood there, helpless, watching Mask carry off my daughter.
&
nbsp; Drake’s hand came down on my shoulder. “We’re going to get them back.”
I pumped my fists until my knuckles ached. “How? We don’t even know where he’s taking them?”
“No,” said Stefan, breathless from where he stood, leaning against the banister behind me. “But I know where he’s going to be, and I know how to beat him.” He took a few wheezy breaths before he collapsed to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-One
We gathered in the conference room, trying not to notice the empty seats. The mood in the room was much more somber than before, though my own didn’t match. I was pissed. Of all the plays Mask could’ve made, taking Remy and Finn were the biggest blows, not just to our plan, but to me personally.
Mask wanted me angry and desperate. He wanted me to rush off to the rescue and screw up. If I knew where I was going, I would’ve, but Stefan had decided to keep that information to himself until everyone had assembled.
Emma passed Stefan a water bottle. “It’s not cold. Sorry.”
“Thanks.” He twisted the cap off and managed a few sips.
I stopped pacing to grip the back of an empty chair. “You said you knew where he’d be, and how to beat him. Out with it.”
Drake put a hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Lazarus.”
I shoved his hand away and turned on him, forcing myself not to punch him in the face. “Mask has my kid. I don’t have time to take it easy.”
“Remy is more than just your daughter.” Foxglove steepled his fingers. “We need to adjust the plan for a rescue.”
“What we need is a new plan. This one’s fucked.” Josiah sat next to the open window, a cigarette in his hand. After what’d just happened, no one begrudged him the smoke, even if it was mildly unpleasant for the rest of us. We all had bigger problems.
Detective Drake crossed his arms. “Maybe that’s not the best course of action. Losing her would hurt, but our priority has to be the greater good. Saving the city.”
“If you think I’m going to leave my child in the hands of that thing—”
“No one is suggesting that,” Adelard grumbled.
“That’s exactly what I was suggesting.”
I made a fist. “Drake, you’d better shut the hell up unless you want a broken nose.”
Emma touched my arm. I closed my eyes, sighed, and released my fist. Hitting Drake wasn’t going to fix anything, and neither would rushing in to save her, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“Stefan,” said Emma in a much calmer voice than I could’ve managed, “tell us what you saw.”
Stefan looked at Josiah.
Josiah nodded, encouraging. “Go on, mate. Show them.”
He looked down at the pen and paper placed before him. With shaky hands, he sketched out a simple design: four circles of varying sizes, each inside the last. A cross bisected the first three but didn’t break the seal of the fourth. Another smaller circle and a loop, and he was finished. Stefan held up the design.
“It’s a summoning circle,” I said.
“It’s an Elder Sign,” Foxglove corrected. “A ward against the Fomorians. Mask was looking for these.”
Emma walked over and took the drawing from Stefan’s hands. “It’s Jackson Square.”
“That must be the seal.” I took the picture from Emma when she handed it to me.
She put her hands on her hips and shrugged. “How does something like that break?”
I studied the picture. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it, though I’d never associated the symbol with the paths and monuments at Jackson Square. I’d never looked at the square from above. I’d seen this symbol before in one of Pony’s books on magic wards. “It doesn’t break, not like glass. It’s more like a rock on a riverbank. Things wear it down over time. There are things you can do to speed up how a spell wears down like tainting it with death.”
“The bodies buried there last year…” Drake said.
I nodded. “Or bringing in more powerful artifacts like the Black Bazaar did. The final straw was when I exited the Nightlands. The gate there brought me straight to Jackson Square. Opening it must’ve drained what little power was left. This isn’t something Mask just decided to do. He’s been slowly manipulating things in his favor somehow for a long time.”
I thought about what Odin had said before, that time was the true enemy. We’d given him all he needed just because we didn’t know he existed. Now we were racing against the clock, always on the defensive. We couldn’t win if we couldn’t control the situation, and as long as he had more time to move pieces on the board, we couldn’t be in control. That was especially true when we didn’t know the rules of the game.
“Doesn’t change what we have to do.” The paper rustled loudly as I handed it off to Drake. “We have to get the stones to Jackson Square, which is in the heart of the territory Mask controls. We can expect everything from roving groups of violent infected to more people like Codey to the shadowy monsters of the Nightlands manifesting here. When we go in, he’s going to throw everything he’s got at us. I want him throwing it the wrong way.”
Foxglove drummed his fingers on the table. “How are we going to use the stones without Finn?”
“We’re getting Finn and Remy back. This is now a two-phase operation. We need three teams. Ulmir, you’re with me.”
He grinned and pounded two fists to his chest.
“You too, less pretty Hemsworth.” I gestured to Josiah.
He flicked his cigarette out the window and stood. “I’m pretty tapped, mate. I can’t carry you on this one.”
“Can you still make angel fire?”
Josiah lifted an eyebrow. “Does Michael the archangel still need a weekly enema?”
I shrugged.
He rolled his eyes, snapped his fingers and a tongue of bright blue flame sparked between his fingers.
“Then you can help.” I nodded and pointed to Foxglove. “You’ll lead the second team.”
Paula’s hand shot into the air. “I want in.”
Foxglove frowned. “You can fight?”
She folded her arms. “I might not be able to rip out anybody’s soul, or burn people alive with angel fire, but I can shoot. I didn’t get to run a bar on the wrong side of town just by being good at pouring beer, Foxglove.”
Drake pushed away from the wall. “I’ll take the third spot.”
“You?” Paula looked him up and down as if he were a slab of raw beef. “You’re human. Those things’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
He gestured to me with his chin. “You’re not the only one who lost someone to Mask. Codey’s my partner. I owe him one just the same as the rest of you.”
“You want your chance, Brad, you’ve got it. Foxglove, your team is going down Bourbon Street. Your mission is to draw Mask out and keep him busy. Make sure Finn and Remy aren’t harmed. My team is going to Jackson Square to reactivate the seal.”
“But that means you’ll have the stones, which leaves us with two problems. One, we don’t know if anyone besides Finn can even use the Speaking Stones and two…” Foxglove got up and turned on the projector, pulling up the map of New Orleans. He pointed to Jackson Square. “You’ll be over here, and we’ll be all the way over there.”
Drake shrugged. “That’s a five-minute walk. You could run it in two.”
“A lot can happen in two minutes,” Foxglove said and turned to me. “How will you get the stones from one team to the other?”
Josiah crossed the room to stand by the projector screen. “The first problem’s easy enough to solve. Finn may be the only Spellweaver, but anyone with enough power can interact with a magical object. It’s all about having the right amount of the right power. Between the two of us, me and Laz can figure out that part.”
“I have a solution to the second problem as well,” I said. “I don’t need to get the stones from Jackson Square to you guys. You’re just a distraction. I need to get them into Finn’s hands. To do that, all I have to do is put them in a
shadow he’s had access to in the past. Then he just reaches in and grabs them, provided his hands are free.”
“What about the rest of us?” Emma asked.
“Stefan’s done enough. No offense, man, but you don’t look like you’re in any shape to chip in further.”
Stefan raised his water bottle in agreement.
I turned to Emma. “We need helicopters with spotlights. I want you to be my eyes in the sky, Emma. Keep out of reach. You’re there to help clear the way for the distraction team only.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”
Foxglove stood. “We’ll need a signal so we’ll know your part is done.”
“The helicopters can give the all-clear with a flyover,” Emma suggested.
“Perfect. Cynthia, did you get those suits done?”
Adelard’s wife nodded but seemed concerned. “Paula can have Remy’s and Detective Drake can use Finn’s. They won’t fit perfectly of course, but there’s no time for alterations, is there?”
I looked at the clock ticking away on the wall. It was only another hour or two to dawn, which would be the more ideal time to go after Mask. He’d be easier to corner during the day. But we’d planned to hit him in the dark just in case. “Afraid not. Suit up everybody and get what you need. We go as soon as the helicopters are ready to go.”
People got up from their chairs and the crowd dispersed. Stefan waved me over.
I took the seat next to him. “What is it?”
He glanced around the room, waiting for it to be mostly empty before continuing. “I told you how my gift works?”
“Sort of. You said you could look into the future.”
Stefan nodded gravely. “I’ve never been wrong, but often I don’t get to see the whole picture. Only snapshots in time. I do my best to put those pictures into an order that makes sense, but I’m only human.”
Josiah gestured to his wrist, indicating we needed to hurry. I waved him off. “What’re you trying to say, Stefan?”
“Jackson Square isn’t the only thing I saw when I looked forward. I saw…” He pressed his lips together a moment as if deciding to tell me. “You turned your back on your chance to help someone in the past, walked a road where you’ve made selfish decisions time and again. Even if they were for the right reasons, you’ve always failed to see the bigger picture. But you’re about to get a glimpse of it. You need it to face what’s coming. You’ll have to make a choice soon and be less selfish this time.”