“Also, no cameras on the basement level. I have an officer going through the elevator footage, but so far it doesn’t show anyone but staff accessing the floor. The perp probably used the stairs.”
Or used a glamour to look like staff, I thought. That was the problem with not knowing the nature of magic at work.
“I got ahold of a list of con attendees that Hoffman’s going to cross check against the crime databases,” Vega continued, “but that’ll take a while.”
“Because of the length of the list or Hoffman?”
Vega shot me a look that said, Don’t get me started. “There’s no one named Sefu on it, anyway.” She began to scroll and tap her phone. “Here, let me go ahead and send you a copy.”
“No, no!” I cried, causing Vega to look up sharply. “It’s just that my phone can’t handle anything that size. It’ll show up as a broken image. Same with group texts. And then I get charged fifty cents, or something ridiculous.”
“Relax,” she said, putting her phone away. “I’m not sending it.”
My face flushed with shame. “So, how many officers are covering the con?”
“About a hundred. I described what you encountered in the basement, and they’ve been instructed to keep their eyes open but not to engage anything they don’t understand. They know you and I are here with a team. I have permission to pull officers from their detail, should we need them.”
“Good,” I said. “Could come in handy for crowd control.”
“Why not just cancel this ridiculous thing?” Tabitha asked.
Though Tabitha was looking for any excuse to go home now, I had considered the same question. There were a few reasons at this stage not to cancel the convention. One, we didn’t know yet whether this was an isolated conjuring or part of a larger pattern. And two, scattering the con and its participants would mean not only losing the conjurer, but this Sefu I’d been sent to protect, assuming he or she was here. And if the consequences of the demons getting to them were as dire as Arianna had predicted, then I needed to find Sefu first.
Vega cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Look, we will if we have to,” I said.
The last thing I needed was Vega and my cat teaming up against me. Fortunately, neither one pressed the issue. Tabitha looked at the empty chairs around the conference table irritably.
“Where is this team of yours anyway?”
“Well, we’re three so far,” I replied. “The other two should be here any minute.” I turned to Vega. “In the meantime, I’m wondering if you could have the department take a look at something else.”
“What is it?”
“That conjurer I mentioned last night? He had a spell book in his apartment that helped him call up a decent-sized demon. I didn’t detect any magic in it, but until we know where the thing came from, better to be safe. He claims to have ordered the book from a magazine.”
I made a sign in the air, and a small hole opened to a parallel plane. It was a device Gretchen had taught me for storing items I didn’t want to have to lug around everywhere. The catch was that the items had to be inert—the plane wasn’t stable enough to hold magical items or combustible material, like gunpowder—and space was limited to roughly what could fit inside a small locker at the gym. My cubbyhole, I called it.
I reached inside and pulled out the magazine from Nathan’s apartment, turned to the classified section, and pointed to the ad. Vega had seen me summon the cubbyhole enough times that the novelty had worn off. She took the magazine from me and squinted at the small print.
“And you want to know who placed the ad,” she said.
“Exactly.”
“Think it’s the same person who called up the things here?”
“Not necessarily.” I signed the cubbyhole closed. “I mean, a convention like this would seem to attract the type of person who sells spell books, but it’s still a long shot. I’ll just feel better having a lead on whoever authored the spells.”
Vega flipped the magazine to the cover. “I’ll have someone run a reverse P.O. box check and also contact the magazine. One or both should net us a name.”
“Excellent.”
While Vega made the call, I pulled potions and spell implements from my pockets and spread them over the table. I’d left in such a hurry, I hadn’t properly organized them. Tabitha watched, a curled paw propping her cheek.
“Doing all right?” I asked her.
She gave me a withering look that told me to go bone myself. I still needed to contact a vet, though I was already dreading bringing Tabitha in for an exam. The last time had been a disaster. I repacked everything into my pockets in a better semblance of order, finishing as Vega ended her call.
“I’ve got someone working on it,” she said. “Any updates on Arnaud?”
The edge in her voice set off my defensive alarms until I reminded myself she was only worried for Tony. Once more, I thought of the card I’d slipped into my shirt pocket that morning. Arianna had said that my first action shouldn’t be with the Upholders—and under the circumstances, I completely agreed—but the bonding agreement could be the boy’s ticket to safety.
Now seemed a good time to explain the offer, but the door to the conference room opened.
Vega and I turned to find a police officer showing in Mae Johnson, the “nether whisperer” who had helped me at Yankee Stadium earlier in the fall. The large, elderly woman smiled broadly as she swayed toward me. She had been using a walker for arthritis in her hips and low back, but a couple healing sessions from yours truly, and the eroded, inflamed joints had repaired enough to tolerate her generous upper body without the external support. She’d even slimmed down some, the extra exercise no doubt helping. She was sporting a fresh perm whose color matched her gleaming white tennis shoes.
“So good to see you, Mae,” I said, standing.
I kissed her cheek as I took her pet carrier and set it on the table. Beyond the wire mesh door, a small lobster-like creature snapped its claws and wriggled the tendrils around its mouth in either greeting or annoyance; I couldn’t tell.
I stooped down. “Hey, Buster.”
The nether creature released a pleasant enough-sounding squeal, but I knew better than to try to scratch his head.
“I got here as soon as I could,” Mae said, huffing slightly and pushing her thick glasses up from the sides.
I straightened. “Thanks for coming. You’ve already met Detective Vega.”
“Sure have. How are you, sweetie?”
“Fine, Mae.” A trace of anxiety remained in Vega’s voice, but I doubted anyone else noticed. “How about you?”
Mae waved a hand. “Oh, don’t get an old lady started. Unless you want to hear about aches, pains, sleeping problems, hearing problems, digestive complaints, and relatives who never call. Or call too much.” She’d been glancing around the conference room, and now her eyes stopped on Tabitha. “And who’s this?”
“Oh, that’s—”
“Everson’s hormonally depleted sack of shit,” my cat answered.
“She also goes by Tabitha,” I said.
Mae pressed a hand to her chest, eyes wide. “She talks?”
“And you have a lobster with tentacles for lips,” Tabitha snapped. “Don’t act so surprised.”
“There’s a succubus in that body,” I explained, to which Mae nodded. She had studied enough magic on her own to understand what that meant. Her expression told me she also knew to drop the subject.
I pulled a chair back for Mae and scooted it in as she sat.
On the phone, I’d only told her I needed her help with an assignment. I was preparing now to give her the details when the door opened again and the same officer appeared. This time, he was escorting what looked like a ten-year-old boy in a brown bomber jacket, wool cap pulled down to a scarf that wrapped most of his face.
“Thanks,” I said, as the officer retreated and closed the door. “Well, we’re all here.”
Everyone watched th
e newcomer as he unwound the scarf from his head. A squat nose appeared, followed by a jutting jaw. When the last of the scarf came free, he blinked his squash-colored eyes.
“This is Bree-Yark,” I announced.
He strode forward, arms akimbo, as if he already owned the room.
“Hope no one’s got a problem with a goblin,” he said.
14
When I’d called Bree-Yark, I wasn’t sure I would be able to convince him to come, but he was anxious to get out of Gretchen’s house. His exact words were, “I’m dying over here, buddy.” Vega and Mae introduced themselves, and he kissed their hands in turn. To the women’s credit, neither flinched.
Tabitha watched him through slitted eyes from across the table. I braced for her to say something cutting, but she held her tongue. Fortunately, Bree-Yark didn’t appear remotely interested in her.
He draped his scarf over the back of a chair, hitched up his dark, bootcut jeans, which were already rolled up at the cuffs, and hefted himself onto the seat. At his height, his steel-toed work boots came a good foot short of the floor. Buster skittered excitedly in his cage, but Bree-Yark didn’t seem interested in him either. The goblin laced his thick fingers on the table and peered up at me.
“Someone going to tell me exactly what this clam bake is about?”
“Yeah, first thanks for coming.” I looked around the table. “That goes for everyone.”
“Not all of us were given a choice,” Tabitha remarked.
I ignored her. “Somewhere in this hotel there’s a conjurer or conjurers. We need to find them ASAP. The problem is, I’m not detecting any magic. I can’t even tell what kind of magic they’re using.” That stung to admit, but the facts were the facts. I’d never encountered quite this brand of magic before.
“That’s why I called you,” I continued, “for your perceptual abilities. I’ll go around the table and introduce everyone. Bree-Yark here is from the faerie realm. He can detect fae energies, including a range of magics.”
I’d ascertained this info over the phone, and Bree-Yark nodded now.
“Served in the goblin army for almost eighty years,” he told the room. “The recruiting officers didn’t lie—ransacking and pillaging gets you around. Marched to one end of Faerie and back probably a half dozen times. Crossed the Mirther Range, the Frost Plains. And the Fae Wilds?” He grunted. “They don’t call them that for nothing. You see a lot of wild shit, pardon my French,” he said, glancing over at Mae and Vega.
“Yeah, so if the conjurer is using a brand of fae magic, he’ll know,” I interjected, having learned the hard way on the phone that Bree-Yark could be hard to derail once he got going. “Mae Johnson’s specialty is nether creatures. Not only can she sense them, but they respond to her commands. She helped quash a major attack on Yankee Stadium this past October.”
The lizards I’d faced this morning had shown nether qualities. If more popped up, I was counting on Mae to detect them. Having her here to control them until I could put them down would be a further help.
“I was a practicing veterinarian too,” Mae put in importantly. “Thirty years.”
Holy crap, how had I forgotten that? I could have her take a look at Tabitha.
“Vet, huh?” Bree-Yark grunted. “Any recommendations for keeping these trim?” He splayed his black talons toward Mae. “They’re getting too tough for scissors, and you should see the ones on my toes. Thick as railroad spikes.”
“Oh, honey, you’re gonna need guillotine clippers, extra-large. I should have a pair in a closet back at the apartment.”
I raised my voice, as much to get myself back on track as my new teammates. “Last but not least in the sensing department is Tabitha. She’ll be able to alert us if anything demonic is afoot.”
“Oh, really,” Tabitha said.
While waiting for Vega and the others to arrive, I’d gathered some conference programs. I distributed them now, even placing one in front of Tabitha so she’d feel a part of the team. She made a point of not looking at it.
“This has information on Epic Con,” I said, “including a schedule of events and a detailed map of the hotel. Most of the conference is taking place on the first four floors. I want to start with a walkthrough to get a feel for the place. Eyes, ears, and senses on high alert. See what we can pick up. Detective Vega will help coordinate.”
She responded to the cue by reaching into her duffel bag and producing a handful of communication devices. “Does everyone know how to use a radio and earpiece?” she asked. “If not, it’s pretty simple. This goes in your ear, and this clips to your pants.” As she went over the controls on the small black boxes, I looked around the table. I studied the contrasting faces of Vega, Mae, Bree-Yark, and Tabitha, realizing it would be my first time heading a team. A bolt of anxiety shot through me.
Relax, man, I told myself. You’ll do fine.
But the stakes felt really damned high. It didn’t help that I had just missed a possible lead to Sefu. If I’d only gotten to the basement fifteen minutes earlier. I checked my phone to make sure the anonymous caller hadn’t tried me again, but there were no messages or call records.
Once Vega had us all hooked up, I said, “All right, team. Let’s move out.”
I stood, seized my cane, and uttered a small invocation to make my trench coat billow like someone you’d want leading you.
Fake it till you make it, right?
My earpiece crackled loudly. An instant later something exploded at my hip. Startled, I batted the radio unit to the floor as if it were a rat that had crawled up my side. As I watched the unit flicker and burp smoke, I realized I’d forgotten to encase the damned thing in a neutralizing spell.
Bree-Yark jumped up and began stomping the unit with a work boot.
While Mae and Buster exclaimed, I turned to Vega, who was frowning.
“Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have any spares?” I asked.
Behind me, Tabitha snorted a laugh. “Now that was worth coming out for.”
By the time we stepped off the elevator onto the fourth floor, I’d mostly regained my composure, even with Tabitha continuing to grin. At least I’d brightened her mood.
Vega had suggested we start at the uppermost level of the con and move down—a “top to bottom,” she called it. By the map on the program, we were entering an area devoted to gaming. Sure enough, clusters of attendees—many in costumes—sat around tables spread with cards, landscape boards, metal figurines, and loads of funny-shaped dice. An elbow shot into my hip, nearly smashing a potion.
“Ever play?”
I looked down to find that Bree-Yark had sidled up to me. Though he’d left his scarf in our meeting room, he’d put his wool hat back on, so at least his goblin ears were covered. Not that it would have mattered much in here. I followed his cocked head to where a group of young adults in medieval-looking garb were pitched in a game of D&D. One was disputing a failed saving throw.
“Yeah, back in high school,” I replied distractedly.
“It doesn’t take a very friendly view of goblins,” Bree-Yark said thinly.
“Well, I only played a couple times. The Dungeon Master was kind of a dick.”
“Bet you killed goblins, though.”
“I honestly don’t remember. Look, are you picking up anything?”
He glanced around the gaming area and shrugged. “Just a lot of hostility toward my kind. And don’t get me started on the goblins in Shadowrun. Diseased mutants?”
I turned to Mae. “How about you?”
Though she was scanning the open floor space, I could see her eyes lingering on the attendees’ costumes. When a woman strode past in what amounted to a few strategically placed cups of latex joined by fishing line, Mae tsked. From inside his carrier, Buster mimicked the sound.
“You say people pay money to come here and do this?” Mae asked.
“I guess,” I said.
“But why ever on Earth?”
Even though I was trying
to focus on the energetic currents and auras imbuing the space for anything magical, I caught my professor’s mind mulling the question. “Probably goes back to ancient practices of totemism and hero worship. Acting out hidden aspects of yourself, getting to be someone you’re not. These cons are just the modern expression. Plus, there are the social-bonding aspects.”
“If you say so,” Mae said, looking unconvinced.
“Ridiculous, if you ask me,” Tabitha remarked from behind us. “I mean, who chooses to be a cat?” Her eyes followed a trio of attendees in bulky feline costumes—furries, I’d heard them called.
“Notice how no one’s dressed as a goblin?” Bree-Yark said.
“What about him?” Mae asked, pointing.
“That’s a gremlin,” Bree-Yark growled.
As we left the gaming area and entered a section being set up for celebrity photo ops, I waved everyone over to an empty table. “All right, listen. I get that this is an unusual setting with a lot to look at, but we need to filter out the distractions and—”
Off to my right, a woman squealed. “Ohmygod! I love you, James Mardsten!”
I craned my neck around. James Mardsten’s here?
“Everson,” Vega snapped.
I returned my attention to my teammates. “Right. We have to focus, or we run the very real risk of missing something important. Do we need to take another walk through the gaming area?”
“No to the more walking,” Tabitha replied.
“I didn’t pick up anything, Everson,” Mae said.
“Me neither,” Bree-Yark grunted.
“Okay, that makes four of us.” I checked my phone again, then scanned our surroundings. Was the person who had called me here too? I cocked an inner ear to my magic, but I wasn’t getting that “being watched” feeling.
Vega, who had been listening into her earpiece, spoke up. “A team of officers completed their search of the basement. Nothing to report. They’re moving on to the closed rooms and closets on the upper floors.”
“Anything happening in the con?” I asked.
“One creep was arrested for inappropriate grabbing. Otherwise, just a couple confiscations of sharpened weapons.”
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