{"id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","serial_id":"556edb3cada6e270f8e2641d","episode_ids":["5ad4ae032eb6130001347de7","5ad4ae404a189e00019c6d2d","5ad4aeab2eb6130001347de8","5ad4aefa4a189e00019c6d2e","5ad4afc0f579f600014e272d","5ad4b007f579f600014e272e","5ad4b044a4c5eb0001f98e39","5ad4b0a52eb6130001347de9","5ad4b0e74a189e00019c6d2f","5ad4b4694a189e00019c6d30"],"description":"Everything in the Bookburners’ lives falls into two categories: Before London and After London. Before London, things were strange, sure, but After London . . . “strange” doesn’t even begin to describe it. Magic is everywhere—and the Bookburners can only be in one place at a time.","subtitle":"","title":"Bookburners Season 4","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.issue.20180403","number":"4","featured":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BB-S4-Season-Cover-Web-1235x1600-no-S4.jpg","cover_wide_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/S-BB-S4-Carousel-Web-Horz-1600x800-No-S4.jpg","gowatchit_id":"","is_free":false,"episodePrice1":199,"episodePrice2":299,"episodePrice3":499,"episodePrice4":599,"episodePrice5":799,"episodePrice6":899,"episodePrice7":1099,"episodePrice8":1299,"episodePrice9":1399,"episodePrice10":1599,"episodePrice11":1699,"episodePrice12":1899,"episodePrice13":1999,"episodePrice14":2199,"episodePrice15":2299,"episodes":[{"id":"5ad4ae032eb6130001347de7","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":1,"title":"Body Problems","released_date":"2018-06-13T11:44:28.375+00:00","released":true,"strapline":"The team receives a mysterious invitation from the Maitresse.","byline":"Max Gladstone","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E01.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/dividers/bookburners_episode1_divider.png","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-06-13","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal Brooks lay awake in darkness, waiting for the screams.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNightmares had roused her halfway through most nights since London. Back in New York, on the force, there had been bad nights too, when she lay in the cold bed and wished the world would\u0026mdash;not end, just stop, so she and the monsters in her mind could catch their breaths and share a cigarette.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLondon did not stop. It never would.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA rift had opened from the Thames out into the pink beyond the world, the land of demons, of magic. They\u0026rsquo;d closed it, Sal and Grace and Liam and Asanti and Mench\u0026uacute; and Frances, all of them together. They\u0026rsquo;d killed a dragon in the melting streets of London. But they had fixed nothing. London remained transformed. Flesh coated walls, and the Ferris wheel they called the Eye blinked now. People died. People became butterflies. The Tower\u0026rsquo;s ravens merged into one jet-sized creature and menaced Heathrow. Magic bled from the wound that was London, and now Sal could not trust the pink in sunset or the dawn.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Vatican and the Society refused to go public, to explain. And because the Vatican would not help the world, Team Three had left the Vatican.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey\u0026rsquo;d been on the road for the three months since, traveling from town to town to fight outbreaks and put out fires as governments flailed to respond\u0026mdash;saving villages from monsters, saving monsters from villages. Sansone fed them leads, or Liam tracked cases down online, or Mench\u0026uacute; heard something from his contacts in the priesthood, or Sal found clues in the paper. They\u0026rsquo;d shattered the icemen of Minsk, saved Bonn from clockwork vines, and stopped a guy in Belgium who dressed up like a werewolf, while around the world ancient powers woke and kids began performing miracles. They were bailing out a boat with a broken hull, but none of them had any better ideas.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo Sal lay awake, alone and cold under three banks of covers in a Polish boardinghouse, and tried to build her courage to sleep. The scratchy wool blankets would be here in the morning, and the brown striped wallpaper, the whole close cold room and the deep slopes of green valley wall outside. They would not melt. Nothing would change into anything else, except in the usual slow way that the whole world turned to dust and mud.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe made herself watch the sky out the small window, cloud-choked and chill. The black offered no comfort, and that was a comfort all its own.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was not ready for the scream.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t hers, was the thing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomething moved out there in the night\u0026mdash;big and heavy and rushing toward her. It crashed into the windowpane. Claws scraped, a hooked beak rapped, big dark eyes stared through the glass. The scream came again, a croak, a cracked cry.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe forced herself from bed, her breath pale mist, checked the silver cross around her neck\u0026mdash;not tarnished yet\u0026mdash;and grabbed the knife from under her pillow. The window screeched as she thrust it open, and the raven tumbled through and fell to the carpet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePink threads wrapped its wings and tightened across its chest, drawing black oil instead of blood. Its wings drummed against the floor, and she jumped when they brushed her bare ankle. The bird\u0026rsquo;s eye blinked and rolled in pain. In one talon the raven held a rumpled, pierced letter, with \u003cem\u003eTeam Three\u003c/em\u003e written in a spiderweb hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eThis is bullshit\u003c/em\u003e, insisted the part of her that still thought of herself on some level as Sal Brooks of the NYPD. This was way beyond procedure. Ravens fucking with your window at night, much less ravens being attacked by glowing pink threads, had nothing to do with police work. This was not on the detective\u0026rsquo;s exam. She needed a specialist.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat part of her lived in a world where her brother had never come to her apartment bearing a stolen magic book, a world where she\u0026rsquo;d never joined the Society, a world where London had never happened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut time passed. People grew like trees around their scars. Sal Brooks was a specialist now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo she knelt beside the raven and set a hand to the surging muscles that drove its wings, and when she whispered, \u0026ldquo;Hold still,\u0026rdquo; she was not shocked to see it try.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt still fought her when she slipped her silver knife into the wound across its chest. She pressed against the raw flesh. The oozing black oil that was not blood smoked when it touched her blade. She slid the knife tip beneath that pink wire and sawed up and down. The raven\u0026rsquo;s beak snapped. Its talon caught her wrist.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the thread gave, it whipped loose like a snapped violin string, and she pulled her head back just in time. The broken end cut a stripe into her cheek instead of her eye, and the blood from that felt hot and thick and almost like tears.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe thread coiled, hissing, on the carpet. It blackened and shriveled and tightened and crumbled to ash.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe raven let her go, and she let the raven go too. In a graceless flurry of feathers and oil it found its feet, dripping still, and spread its wings, and bobbed its head in what Sal hated knowing was a bow. It released the letter, and nudged it forward with its beak. She held the raven\u0026rsquo;s gaze as she picked up the envelope. Ravens weren\u0026rsquo;t owls\u0026mdash;you could not stare eye to eye with one of them. They watched you crossways.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe held out her bleeding arm, and it hopped on, talons not tight enough to pierce this time. Beyond the window the black sky spread. She bore the raven there and offered it the night, and it accepted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe read the letter by the dim light in the cold. It might have been written in ink. She suspected it was not.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen she turned, the room was full. Arturo Mench\u0026uacute; stood in the center, face grave. Liam, beside him, held a crowbar that a contact of Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s in Switzerland had flashed with silver. He looked angry and confused, as ever. And beside them both, Grace. She bore no weapon. She did not need one. But Sal could not look at Grace right now. She made Sal feel too human.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe paper fluttered in a night wind that cut her as deep and sure as the thread. She didn\u0026rsquo;t feel the cold or the pain, not really. She was learning tricks to not feel. She hadn\u0026rsquo;t thought about Perry in almost a month. That was a lie.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s from the Maitresse,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;She has a plan. She\u0026rsquo;s holding a council of war. She wants us to come.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA pink glow worked through the northern clouds. It might have been the northern lights, though they were too far south for that, or it might have been a reflection of the dawn. It was neither.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePink lines threaded through the early morning clouds when they met Father Nowak outside his church. He was a big man, and wrung his hands and looked toward corners as if unused to fear. Mench\u0026uacute; led, Sal by his side, and she watched how the priests embraced. Father Nowak\u0026rsquo;s hands stayed clenched the whole time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe parish church was small for Poland, meaning big, but empty save for statues and a few flickering devotional candles. Stained glass shaped the gray light into a vision from another world, a world with colors. Soot darkened the paintings on the walls and ceiling.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Father Mench\u0026uacute;,\u0026rdquo; Father Nowak said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve never seen anything like this. Everyone\u0026rsquo;s heard about London. But Wieliczka is a small town when there are no tourists.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This sort of thing can happen anywhere.\u0026rdquo; Father Mench\u0026uacute; sounded tired. Maybe that was just Sal. She caught Grace looking at her, and turned toward the priest. Sal\u0026rsquo;s arm hurt under the bandage where the raven\u0026rsquo;s talons had cut in. The wound on her cheek was so clean and straight it did not hurt at all, as long as she did not smile. \u0026ldquo;It always has. You only know about London because people were watching there.\u0026rdquo; Nowak watched the cross on the altar, and did not answer. \u0026ldquo;It is worse now than it used to be,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; allowed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam paced around the church. Where he found metal, he touched it, scraped his fingernail along it, then shook his head and moved on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNowak continued, \u0026ldquo;I called the number I was given when I came to this parish, the number I was told never to call. The sister on the other end of the phone, she said there would be a large team, with equipment, and experience in these matters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have experience,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But there are not so many of you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; opened his mouth as if to disagree. Then he looked around. Sal saw him count the four of them, and the ones who were missing. She saw him hesitate.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stepped forward. \u0026ldquo;Father Nowak, after you made that phone call, the woman on the other end made one of her own, to us. The Vatican has sent a large team. They have weapons, and armor, and explosives. They will go down into your mines, and kill whatever they find there, and smash the rest. The mines are your main industry, right? Tourists come to see them? A heritage site?\u0026rdquo; She waited for his nod. \u0026ldquo;The team that\u0026rsquo;s following us, they don\u0026rsquo;t care about the mines. They don\u0026rsquo;t even care about the people trapped there. They care about closing the rift. We\u0026rsquo;re smaller, we\u0026rsquo;re less well armed, and we don\u0026rsquo;t want this to get bloody.\u0026rdquo; Which was a nice way of saying that if the rest of the Society knew they were here\u0026mdash;apart from Hilary Sansone, of course, Team Two\u0026rsquo;s lead and their occasional information source\u0026mdash;they\u0026rsquo;d have sent the Team One strike force with an arrest order alongside the usual search-and-destroy. \u0026ldquo;But first we need to know what happened.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNowak nodded, once, through the shock. \u0026ldquo;In the mines there is a cathedral made out of salt\u0026mdash;its chandeliers, its altar, its carvings, all salt. One of the carvings was a carving of a book. Three days ago that book opened. We did not understand at first. We sent people down to investigate, and more people after those, and then police. One of the police came up, raving about statues, about Sodom and Gomorrah. He said\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; But Nowak could not repeat what he had said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat put Mench\u0026uacute; back on solid ground. He took the priest by the shoulder. \u0026ldquo;We will fix this, if it can be fixed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce, he wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have said the \u003cem\u003eif \u003c/em\u003epart.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal let the priests talk. Grace sat flipping through a hymnal, legs crossed. She might have raised her head when Sal left the priests behind to approach Liam. When Sal glanced back, though, Grace had sunk back to her hymns.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nobody\u0026rsquo;s yet mentioned the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo; Liam had worked his way around the church to the altar, where he knelt, crossed himself, then stood and touched a candlestick. \u0026ldquo;Or what we plan to do about her invitation. If she\u0026rsquo;s invited us to her grand old magic party, we should at least RSVP.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll decide after we get through this,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If we get through this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe half-smiled. She had thrown that pitch expecting him to swing. \u0026ldquo;I know we\u0026rsquo;re not technically working with the Church anymore,\u0026rdquo; she said as he took the burning candle from the candlestick and hefted the stick two-handed. \u0026ldquo;But church robbing doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem your style.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hardly church robbing,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;We are God\u0026rsquo;s own servants. We need silver and, look at that! God provides.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; stepped back from the other priest, and raised his voice. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace snapped the hymnal shut and rose without delay; Liam slung the candlestick over his shoulder like a baseball bat. Sal cast a glance back as they approached the door\u0026mdash;Father Nowak wrung his hands over his belly, a small man in a large shadowed room in a large shadowed world he once thought he understood. As he pushed the door open, he said, \u0026ldquo;Take me with you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; paused. Sal wished he hadn\u0026rsquo;t. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ve never seen anything like what\u0026rsquo;s down there, Father.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But I will, sooner or later. Even if I stay up here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; did not deny it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s my parish,\u0026rdquo; Father Nowak said, and that settled it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s your funeral,\u0026rdquo; Liam muttered as the doors closed behind them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003chr\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eNowak led them down a winding stair into the mines. The corridor\u0026rsquo;s echoes cast their footsteps back to them, and the rough stone listened with the same indifference it had showed the footsteps of centuries, and the screams of the dying and afraid. \u0026ldquo;The mines were our wealth,\u0026rdquo; Father Nowak explained. \u0026ldquo;When salt was rare, kings fought and died for this place. The miners lived in the depths, chipping salt from the rock, and in time they grew to know it, to love it, and they carved it. Salt figures in the walls, first, then whole statues, and after that they hollowed out great halls, not just bedrooms or nooks to cram with tools but meeting chambers and dormitories and even a chapel with walls and chandeliers and an altar all of salt. It is more beautiful for what it is not than for what it is: They used no gems, no gold, only something we now hold so lightly we reach for it at tables without looking to see if it is there. It may be the most plain and common chapel in Europe, and the richest. This is no mere mine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eIt\u0026rsquo;s a tomb\u003c/em\u003e, is what Sal felt sure Liam would have said if she hadn\u0026rsquo;t elbowed him in the ribs when he opened his mouth. Instead he rubbed his side and said, \u0026ldquo;Ow.\u0026rdquo; Grace smiled at that. Sal smiled too, then caught herself and looked away. This was business. They had no backup. There was no plan B. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t afford to joke, or think of anything but the mission.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe electric lights failed halfway down the stairs, but their flashlights still worked, and Liam had chemical flares. The dark walls seemed to grow closer. Sal hoped that was only an illusion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey found the first statues soon after.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal let Mench\u0026uacute; handle the priest, who gasped, recoiled, but could not look away. The first statues were a group of three, a woman, a girl, a man, all running and still at once. Their faces were already softening, their teeth no longer picture-sharp. The folds in their clothes had broken off where they should have reached a point.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s hard,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;It always is. Did you know them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNowak shook his head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Each man takes this differently,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;and finds his own peace with God. They may yet be saved, if we succeed.\u0026rdquo; He said a quick prayer over the statues before they went down. He still did that when he could.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSoon there were too many. A tourist with a camera around her neck; another whose skirt flared as she ran. Many touched one another on the arm or shoulder, always on bare skin, and most seemed afraid. Grace stopped to don gloves and duck into her jacket hood. Liam did the same, and added a pair of silvered knuckle rings over his gloves. Mench\u0026uacute; guided them around the statues, stepping over fallen salt children and hugging the wall to pass a group of uniformed workers frozen in struggle with a statue whose features had all worn away. Their flashlights carved many shadows from the figures, so they seemed to move even when still.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal had grown used to dread, but each time it came around it unraveled more threads of her: creeping through a strange mine in the dark, say, that was a new thread, and the shifting flashlight disks, and the statues that she was pretty sure only seemed to move between moments of illumination. The faint smell of brine that came from nowhere and everywhere at once, that undid the hem of her cool. The first wall carving she\u0026rsquo;d glimpsed that was not a transfigured tourist but a faceless saint offering a gift to a woman in robes, their mouths open, that unraveled a seam. Her tremors, her shortness of breath, that was white lining peeking out. She could keep it together. She had to. People were counting on them. The whole world, even.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis was how you bore up under pressure, this was how you gathered all your gaping seams and did not freak out: by taking one step at a time into the dark, beside your friends.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eStill, she almost lost it when a salt hand clutched at her from the wall.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe jumped back, cursed. The hand closed where her arm had been. It had no fingers, just a thumb opposite a fused paddle of salt, and its eyes were hollow and its mouth a circle bored into a boneless face. It snatched for her again, and one leg bubbled free of the bas relief where it had been standing a moment before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore it could take a step, Grace was there. She didn\u0026rsquo;t burn her candle hot for this\u0026mdash;she just moved faster than Sal could track, like a human who was very, very good at violence. She grabbed the salt statue\u0026rsquo;s head in her gloved hands and jumped, bearing all her weight against its neck. The salt cracked, and the statue crumbled. Grace sprang to her feet before Sal could offer her a hand up; behind them, Liam punched another faceless statue. Where his silver knuckles touched the salt, it sparked and flowed away, and with a manic grin he stepped back, lifted his candlestick like a baseball bat, and slammed it into the saltling\u0026rsquo;s face. It burst, face and body alike, and Liam laughed. \u0026ldquo;Got you!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t get cocky,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see no shame in celebrating my accomplishments,\u0026rdquo; he said, as behind him another saltling emerged from the wall, hands clawed, reaching out. But Grace burned hard and shattered it before it could catch him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no shame. So long as you don\u0026rsquo;t get sloppy.\u0026rdquo; She brushed salt dust off her gloves.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing I couldn\u0026rsquo;t handle.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Keep it together,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. Father Nowak had drawn back against the tunnel wall, and while it shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have been possible for a man that pale to blanch, over the last three years Sal\u0026rsquo;s sense of the possible had extended a great deal. One of Nowak\u0026rsquo;s hands clutched the cross beneath his black shirt, and his mouth was so tightly drawn that teeth showed where his lips refused to touch. He was falling apart. Sal sympathized. There was a sort of cruel joke to this, which had only grown crueler since London. People had notions, some right, some wrong, about what sort of evils they might be called to bear. Occupation. War. Insult and assault. Sickness. Betrayal. Death, of course, and pain too. They made their peace with them, or stored up joys and certainties against the event. But who expected salt monsters to come out of the wall?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eYou couldn\u0026rsquo;t tell who would break and who wouldn\u0026rsquo;t when they met magic. Brave soldiers snapped when they saw their first demon\u0026mdash;not because they weren\u0026rsquo;t brave, but because the bravery they\u0026rsquo;d built wasn\u0026rsquo;t flexible enough to wrap around the notion of a demon. They cracked. Like Father Nowak was cracking now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal was still deciding what to do about that when Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;Father Nowak. How far to the chapel?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd that question sealed him up. He was, when he turned back to Mench\u0026uacute;, no longer a man fighting monsters, but a priest guiding a visitor through a hometown marvel. For now, at least. \u0026ldquo;Up here,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Follow me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe salt chapel blushed pink with unnatural light, but the statues that filled it did not move. Their feet had melded with the salt floor, which was carved with grooves like marble tile. The salt-crystal altar glittered in the nave, and salt chandeliers sparkled when Sal\u0026rsquo;s flashlight swept across them\u0026mdash;but when that circle of light had gone they still glowed, dim and warm as coals, reflecting pink light.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe statues that had been people did not face the nave or the altar or the crucifix. The pink light flowed from a carving on the wall\u0026mdash;a Saint Jerome, Sal thought, though she wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure. Mench\u0026uacute; had despaired of her ever learning the iconography, but you couldn\u0026rsquo;t spend years in Rome without picking up some. Sebastian was the one who looked like a bondage pinup pincushion, and Jerome had the book and the lion. This carving had a long beard and something like a cat at its feet, and anyway, it held a book.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe doubted the initial carver meant the book to be open, or glowing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What now?\u0026rdquo; Father Nowak asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Now,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;we close it. And, if we are fortunate, we fix all this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you often fortunate?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal started forward. She didn\u0026rsquo;t need to hear the rest. Grace and Liam were close behind her, and Mench\u0026uacute; after them, with Nowak. They had no reason to keep back. Magic did not have a minimum safe distance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs Sal neared the book the light began to thrum. This close it smelled fresh and sharp, like new-crushed ladybugs. She lifted the cross from around her neck, and it trembled as she reached for the book. The silver sizzled and began to tarnish when it touched the salt cover, and the tarnish spread fast down the cross toward her fingers. The cover weighed fifty pounds going on a thousand, but with a groan she swung it closed. It landed with a thud, and the thrumming stopped, and the smell faded, and the light died, and they were in the dark with their flashlights again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was halfway through her outbreath, not quite ready for relief, when the pink light returned. If she had been newer to all this, she might have thought at first that the faint cracks on the closed cover, blushing and throbbing, were just afterimages burned into her retinas. If she thought that way, she would have been long dead by now. Asanti had told her back on\u0026mdash;Rhodes, wasn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026mdash;that with magic, you had to trust your senses. Your judgment was not trained to this world. It judged wrong. Your gut understood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s breaking!\u0026rdquo; She scrambled back, half-falling until Grace caught her, turning away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe book exploded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSalt shards and powder struck Sal in the back with enough force to topple her, but not enough to topple Grace. Light flooded from the hole in the wall where the book cover had been, brilliant rainbow light that thickened the air and soaked into the statues, which creaked and shambled and bubbled, their features melting to indifferent mannequin sameness as their bodies began to move. When they lifted their feet from the tile, they stretched and cracked and dripped salt. They moved like waking lions: slow at first, but there would be speed soon. Pink light quickened in their mouths and in the tips of their stretching paddle hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace held Sal up. That was nice, but they didn\u0026rsquo;t have time for nice. She recovered her footing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That wasn\u0026rsquo;t supposed to happen,\u0026rdquo; Father Nowak said as they backed through waking saltlings toward the entrance. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re supposed to be okay now. You said.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; looked too tired to answer, so Sal said, \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s how it used to work. But there\u0026rsquo;s more magic everywhere now. Sometimes the books can\u0026rsquo;t push it all back into\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. where it comes from. The outside.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What happens now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe weighed her silver knife in her hand, and wished she had a gun, not because it would have helped\u0026mdash;even silver bullets worked less well than she liked\u0026mdash;but because she knew guns. They were a comfortable substitute for control. \u0026ldquo;We run.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No disrespect or mutiny intended,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;but you may want to look behind you before you hang your hopes on the \u003cem\u003erun\u003c/em\u003e option.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMore saltlings bubbled out of the entrance tunnel. Some were child-sized, which hurt worse. \u0026ldquo;Circle up. Weapons out.\u0026rdquo; Liam and Grace didn\u0026rsquo;t have to be told, and Mench\u0026uacute; knew to mind the civilian, but saying the words helped. If nothing else it made all this feel planned. Panic was the enemy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSaltlings reached out. Liam jabbed with the candlestick and they drew back, concerned but unafraid. One of them, a bulk that must have been a man, jumped forward and Liam clubbed it down and it shattered, but tarnish was spreading across the candlestick\u0026rsquo;s silver and the saltlings drew closer still.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can make a path,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, \u0026ldquo;if you all follow me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There are too many of them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They won\u0026rsquo;t touch me. I\u0026rsquo;ll be careful. And I\u0026rsquo;ll move fast.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe could. That was the problem. She could burn the candle of her life to move faster than any human could. How much would it cost her to get them through the mine, back to the surface? Months? A year? More? How many could she spare? But if Grace didn\u0026rsquo;t move fast enough to be sure, to stay safe, the salt might kill her. Sal could not bear that either.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\\She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to give the order. She glanced to Mench\u0026uacute; and saw him, also, pause. Of course. And the saltlings closed in.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal opened her mouth, unsure what she was about to say, and she never found out. A saltling jumped for her, and another for Liam, and two for Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey did not land. Great ropes of stone tore from the church floor and smashed them, scattering other saltlings left and right. Crushed salt bubbled and flowed molten back together. A blue light neared up the tunnel, pulsing in heartbeat time, and the saltlings fell back from it as if burned. Sal held her breath, not hoping, because there had been little percentage in hope in the last few months.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe saltlings around the exit shrank back; one tried to stand against the light, but the blue glow pressed around it like a fist, and when the saltling shattered it did not reform.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd there, in the tunnel mouth, in a paneled dress, dreads woven high atop her head, stood Archivist Asanti, radiant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFiguratively radiant, at least. The fossil heart she held was the thing actually glowing blue.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Follow me, friends,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s not stand on ceremony. I can\u0026rsquo;t keep this up forever.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; chased Asanti up the stairs, following the blue light cast by her heart.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA rhythm pounded through him, of heartbeat and breath and wooden stairs but also a rhythm of time. He had always been running after her or away, up or down some staircase. Their paths ran together and apart and back like rivers, and they traded silt and water each time they touched. The last time they were together they\u0026rsquo;d stood at Team One gunpoint on the banks of the Thames, Mench\u0026uacute; not yet ready to leave the Society to which he\u0026rsquo;d given his life, Asanti unable to wait for him anymore. And then, not a week later, he\u0026rsquo;d escaped from Rome with Grace and Liam and Sal. And here she was again, and he felt afraid of how right it seemed. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s good to see you again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I just can\u0026rsquo;t help saving you, old man.\u0026rdquo; But she spared a glance back at him and a flash of smile. \u0026ldquo;If we\u0026rsquo;re still working on the old script, what happens next is, you hand me over to the witch hunters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a new script.\u0026rdquo; Each step filled his legs with sand. He\u0026rsquo;d started sweating several years ago, and he did not think he would ever stop. Even his moustache felt heavy. \u0026ldquo;The old one lost its appeal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti laughed once when she could spare the breath. She wasn\u0026rsquo;t used to fieldwork\u0026mdash;to the running or the banter. They really should save it for the kids. But then, the kids had all grown serious in recent months, especially Sal, and they were too split for banter\u0026mdash;Sal and Liam holding rear guard while Grace ran ahead, in case any saltlings resisted the heart\u0026rsquo;s light.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How did you know where to find us? Did Sansone tell you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sansone?\u0026rdquo; Asanti hesitated on the stair before she remembered what they were running from. \u0026ldquo;I thought you had left the fold, Arturo.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The fold, yes. But I don\u0026rsquo;t know if you ever leave the web.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sansone had nothing to do with it,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I received an invitation. Addressed to all of us, as a group\u0026mdash;and it included an address where you might be found. The Maitresse likes her jokes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Here I thought you came back because you liked us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe stumbled\u0026mdash;there were no stairs underfoot any more, no next step up, nor any walls closing in. The glorious full gray-pink cloudswollen sky stretched overhead and a green lawn all around, and across the lawn the white walls of the salt mine museum, and past that trees, and past those trees the whole rest of the world, which carried on as if nothing anywhere was rotting or dead, as if the world still stood as firm and steady as it would have seemed in the childhood of someone whose childhood was not spent in Guatemala in the wars. He stumbled, but Asanti steadied him. \u0026ldquo;I do like you, old man. But I have the damnedest time catching you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances hovered nearby at a salt circle\u0026rsquo;s center, her eyes red from lid to lid, her tentacles waving and curling in the blush of magic, her wheelchair abandoned for the moment, chanting. The heart\u0026rsquo;s blue light pulsed in time with the words she spoke. Grace sat opposite the tunnel mouth, watching, keeping count: for Asanti, for Arturo, for\u0026mdash;yes, that was Liam emerging from the mine, sweatslick and panting, his silver knuckles tarnished. And\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer eyes tightened at the corners. \u0026ldquo;Where\u0026rsquo;s Sal?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t fair, Sal thought as she swung the candlestick and shattered another saltling, to blame Father Nowak\u0026mdash;much. Some of these statues were his parishioners, his people, and he belonged to them as much as Sal to Team Three, and to her brother. If Sal had heard Perry cry her name from the darkness below, or Grace, what would she have done?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRhetorical question. She didn\u0026rsquo;t need to ask. She had done it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAdmittedly, in those situations she had more of a plan than the priest, who, when he heard a woman\u0026rsquo;s voice cry his name and call for help, just stopped\u0026mdash;and when the cry came again, barreled down the stairs past them, slamming Liam against the wall when he tried to block his way. Liam recovered fast, but the father was already down there in the dark. Liam growled, and whatever conclusion he reached about how much a priest stood in care of his own life, about what duty he, Liam, had to stop a man whose path led to death from following that path\u0026mdash;whatever conclusion, Sal reached the other one. Because when their eyes met, he started to go up, and she to go down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe caught her wrist. Before she could pull away, he offered her the candlestick. \u0026ldquo;Come back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe took it. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll try.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDown was always easier than up. The air thinned as the last of Asanti\u0026rsquo;s blue faded. Sal took the steps three at a time, and after two flights she saw Father Nowak\u0026rsquo;s rounded back. \u0026ldquo;Father!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut he ignored her, and lumbered down to the landing where they\u0026rsquo;d seen the last statues, and stopped. Sal caught up with him in time to see what he had seen, her impression its own kind of carving: A hand reached toward the priest out of shadow, a hand with skin on it, and that hand led to an arm and that to a shoulder and a human face, an older woman\u0026rsquo;s face, mouth open, pleading. \u0026ldquo;Ewka!\u0026rdquo; the priest called. \u0026ldquo;Ewka, hold on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not her,\u0026rdquo; Sal shouted, but he had not seen the half of the woman still in shadow, or if he saw he did not care. He took her hand anyway. The salt rushed through him, curling and transforming, filling him from the outside in so his scream died in a grinding hiss.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal staggered back up the stairs, her body aching with a need to be away, as Father Nowak\u0026rsquo;s head revolved on its shoulders without care for the usual limits of muscle and bone, and saw her, and his backward legs shambled toward her. She turned, she remembered to turn, to run, but more saltlings bubbled out of the wall. She hit one with the candlestick and it shattered, hit the one behind it and that one shattered too, but tarnish was spreading through the silver, almost at her hands, and Asanti\u0026rsquo;s light was gone and there were so many stairs between her and the sky, and all along those stairs the blackness moved with salt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe tried to run, over the broken saltlings\u0026rsquo; bodies. But when she threw herself forward, she stopped short and sharp, with a breathtaking pain in her skull and neck. Her hood had fallen off, and her ponytail slipped free, and the thing that had been Father Nowak held it as with each second it grew heavier and heavier with salt, the weight of transformation creeping inward toward her scalp.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMaybe this was how dying felt, as the animal at the core of you stretched its last heartbeats. She had a knife. Didn\u0026rsquo;t she have a knife? If she could cut the ponytail off, maybe she\u0026rsquo;d survive. Where was the knife? Had she dropped it? It should be in her pocket, no, not that pocket, the other one\u0026mdash;and her hair was heavy as stone\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA gust of wind blew her against the wall, and she felt a sharp snap like a bone breaking, but \u003cem\u003eoutside\u003c/em\u003e her body, and heard a crash of salt, and Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes were large and black and beautiful in the dark and Sal was alive and free.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t have time,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll carry you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t a question, and Sal had just begun to nod when breath left her lungs and the wind was all around.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen they reached relative safety up a nearby hillside under the cover of trees, Mench\u0026uacute; let them stop and turn and watch the choppers close in, flanked by knights. The Team One soldiers\u0026rsquo; armor did not glitter as their wings bore them through the dull skies, two flanking each helicopter in case of magical assault. Thavani Shah was always a practical commander. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re not hiding anymore,\u0026rdquo; he said, and realized even before Asanti answered that he was not surprised. That was how much the state of play had changed since London.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They have nothing to hide. Certainly not now. And you know Shah\u0026mdash;she adapts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Grace and Liam and Frances did not speak as the choppers circled, as figures in black jumpsuits took aim on the drop zone and the saltlings crawling from the tunnels. Sal hadn\u0026rsquo;t spoken much since Grace pulled her from the mine. She hadn\u0026rsquo;t spoken much, recently. They had all grown into themselves. He should reach out to minister, but each time he\u0026rsquo;d gathered himself to do so, he\u0026rsquo;d found himself asking strange questions in the silence of prayer. On what grounds could he help her? Yes, he was a man of God, and yes, he could offer faith, and consolation. But their worlds had been crumbling together, and he knew that she knew that none of them had certainty to offer. The few times he\u0026rsquo;d almost drowned felt like this: whirling in a storm of bubbles, unsure which way led to air. He had thought he knew, but so did men who swam down thinking it was up until their lungs gave out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wish I had the knack,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You adapt too, Arturo. There\u0026rsquo;s just more \u003cem\u003eyou\u003c/em\u003e to adapt, that\u0026rsquo;s all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Closing the book didn\u0026rsquo;t fix it,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;It just made everything worse. That\u0026rsquo;s been happening more.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe bowed her head. \u0026ldquo;This little island of reality where we stand, where right angles exist and time runs forward and down most of the time points down, is sinking. The ground\u0026rsquo;s soaked with magic now. It seeps out through ever more fragile vessels. When you close those books, they try to push out all the nearby magic. But of course they can\u0026rsquo;t, because there\u0026rsquo;s so much magic. And they break.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What can we do?\u0026rdquo; The Team One knights winged away from the helicopters, far beyond the splash zone of whatever was about to happen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Change,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;But I don\u0026rsquo;t know how, or to what. I imagine that is what the Maitresse wants to discuss.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can we trust her?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t have any better ideas.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I should never have let Father Nowak come down with us,\u0026rdquo; he said, and in that moment realized how much he had missed her, and missed more than that the ease of being with her, the comfort born of making so many mistakes down the years that each new failing barely registered against the accumulated mass of wrongs. Confession wiped you clean, which the bond between Mench\u0026uacute; and Asanti did not. That was the opposite of the point. Between them, each new error mattered. No absolution wiped it away. But it was accepted, and they moved on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How did he get you to let him lead you down? Did he argue his duty? These are my people, this is my place, I have to be part of whatever happens next?\u0026rdquo; When Mench\u0026uacute; didn\u0026rsquo;t answer at once, she shook her head a little, her mouth bent, familiar. \u0026ldquo;You know, someday a demon will use that line on you, and we\u0026rsquo;ll all be dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe could not yet bring any real humor to his laugh, but she\u0026rsquo;d tried, and he felt more grateful for that than he could express. Down by the mine, the helicopters vented their canisters. A viscous silver liquid poured down into the salt mines of Wieliczka. Chemicals in the cascade caught fire as they fell, and the helicopters pulled up and away from the smoke. At this distance even the helicopter rotors sounded muted, like he had left the news playing in another room. The other room was everywhere.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe couldn\u0026rsquo;t take much more of this. \u0026ldquo;Tomorrow,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;we\u0026rsquo;ll decide what to do about the Maitresse. For now, let\u0026rsquo;s find a place to rest.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003chr\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eChalet\u003c/em\u003e was one of those vague European notions, like history and two-dollar coins and a working healthcare system, that Sal had never quite wrapped her head around, but she felt pretty sure the place where they stopped for the night qualified. It was Swiss, which was on the short list of things Sal was certain defined a chalet, and it was swank, which was the only other item on the list. Mench\u0026uacute; didn\u0026rsquo;t mention the name of the friend in whose six guest bedrooms they were crashing on the way to Liechtenstein. For all Sal knew he\u0026rsquo;d just chosen a dark house at random and happened to find a key under the welcome mat, but he kept his cards close to the vest on this one and she didn\u0026rsquo;t pry. Especially when the other option was yet another night in the van.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal had felt a kind of double consciousness ever since the mine. On the one hand here they were, eating dinner in the same room\u0026mdash;Asanti talking with Mench\u0026uacute; and Grace, Liam with Frances, as if Frances\u0026rsquo;s legs weren\u0026rsquo;t snakes and London wasn\u0026rsquo;t half-transformed into something else\u0026mdash;and at the same time she was down in the mineshaft, her hair petrifying, strands of salt reaching in and in. She fell back there each time she turned her head and her ponytail did not sweep against her neck. The ends of her hair felt jagged and sharp. That had to be an illusion. This was just a haircut, dammit. A magical, nearly fatal haircut. She drank wine and then she drank more wine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How\u0026rsquo;s Perry?\u0026rdquo; She hadn\u0026rsquo;t worked up the nerve to ask until now. That is, she still didn\u0026rsquo;t have the nerve, but wine could stand in place of nerve. And asking about her brother was a way out of the dark, and the salt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe relaxed when Asanti said, \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s back in London, minding the fort, and he\u0026rsquo;s doing well. I was worried about how the influx of magic would affect him\u0026mdash;when Aaron merged his soul with your brother\u0026rsquo;s, neither of them expected the world to fall apart so fast, in quite this way. But he seems fine.\u0026rdquo; Sal pretended not to hear the stress Asanti placed on \u003cem\u003eseems\u003c/em\u003e, or the unspoken \u003cem\u003eso far\u003c/em\u003e. \u0026ldquo;But the changing conditions affect all magic everywhere\u0026mdash;the old powers as well as the new, arcane and mundane alike. I believe that\u0026rsquo;s why the Maitresse called this meeting. We all have a mutual interest.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam frowned. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t trust the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace flipped a page in her book. \u0026ldquo;You just don\u0026rsquo;t like being eaten by giant plants.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;you\u0026rsquo;re right, I most certainly do not, and rather think that proves my point. She turned you to stone, I\u0026rsquo;ll have you remember.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m used to it. And anyway, the plant only ate you. It\u0026rsquo;s not as if you were actually digested.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It was getting there. I haven\u0026rsquo;t been able to look at kale since.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What a hardship.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you have any idea how much kale I eat? Or rather, used to eat?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; refilled his snifter of cognac at the bar. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t like this either. We don\u0026rsquo;t know who else will be there, or what the Maitresse plans. But we will be at the Market, under her protection and her peace.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which was so effective in the past. Like that one time Mr. Norse almost stole Sal\u0026rsquo;s brain. Or the other time, when someone tried to collar Grace.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We exiled Mr. Norse to the demon realm,\u0026rdquo;Asanti pointed out, \u0026ldquo;and the members of the Network, who did the actual brain-stealing, are mostly dead. Besides, each of those cases was at an actual Market. The Marketgoers spend their year preparing for any circumvention of Market rules they wish to try. This is a sudden, surprise affair. Everyone will be caught off guard. With luck, this will reduce the risk of\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. surprises.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Unless she decides to use the occasion to declare open season on Bookburners.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti set down her glass. \u0026ldquo;Are we using that\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. term\u0026nbsp;. .\u0026nbsp;. for ourselves now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Times change.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I am not part of the Society anymore, Liam. And neither, by most reasonable definitions, are you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat didn\u0026rsquo;t settle him, but then, Asanti didn\u0026rsquo;t mean to. Sal had been with Team Three long enough to tell when Asanti set out to needle someone. She grew very correct, and couched her voice in a tone easily confused for kind.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOf course, Liam had been with Team Three even longer than Sal. So either he ignored the warning signs, or played into them, enjoying how it felt to be home again, the appointed rebel, loving by pushing back. It was almost like old times.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe smelled salt, and when she closed her eyes she remembered how dark it had been underground. Could the people who\u0026rsquo;d been changed to statues see down there, or did they swim through black on black forever?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEither way, they\u0026rsquo;d all burned now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe excused herself and climbed the stairs to bed. The tips of her hair still felt sharp against her skin. She was imagining things. She wished she could shut her brain off. She sat cross-legged on her bed with the door closed and her shoes off while outside the sky deepened and the less shy stars came out. She missed her brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomeone knocked on her door, once. \u0026ldquo;Come in, Grace.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace closed the door behind her but did not move into the room. She propped herself against the door as if she expected a mob to storm it from the other side. \u0026ldquo;How did you know it was me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t hear any footsteps. And the others would have knocked more than once.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shrugged, and let the silence run. Sal felt it well up over her head, and began to drown.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re pushing yourself too hard,\u0026rdquo; Grace said at last, when the silence threatened to drown them both. She left the door and approached Sal\u0026rsquo;s bed. She moved no faster than any normal human, but she seemed to grow as she neared, so step by step she doubled, taking up a section of the world more vast than her body. When she sat down on the bed beside Sal, she was the size of a woman again, and tense. The nails of her right hand scraped up her pants leg, and her fingers tightened to a fist. On someone who wasn\u0026rsquo;t Grace, that was the equivalent of throwing plates. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not just this morning getting to you, it\u0026rsquo;s everything. I\u0026rsquo;ve watched it since Rome. You can talk to me, if you want.\u0026rdquo; Her next words ran over themselves, they came out so fast: \u0026ldquo;Or not. I mean, you don\u0026rsquo;t have to. I know how that is. I spent a long time not being able to talk, to anyone. And it was good for me, up to a point. But it doesn\u0026rsquo;t stay good. And you\u0026rsquo;re not alone like I thought I was.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace drew in a breath and held it, trembling on the edge of something larger than either of them wanted to admit, and in that pause Sal realized she was taking careful inventory of Grace, of the angle of her head, of the impression she made on the mattress that told Sal how \u003cem\u003ethere\u003c/em\u003e she was, how real and close.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhatever held Grace back gave way. \u0026ldquo;And if you don\u0026rsquo;t want to talk, but you want company\u0026mdash;if you just want somebody here\u0026mdash;I can do that, too.\u0026rdquo; She set her hand over Sal\u0026rsquo;s, on the bed, and her fingers slid through hers.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt felt so simple and so right. The touch itself could fix, not everything, but so much. Sal tightened her fingers to grip Grace\u0026rsquo;s between them. She could pull her in, inhale her, swallow her by reflex. She\u0026rsquo;d been lost and sun-blind in the desert. Any water would do. She was a throbbing mess of need. Why shouldn\u0026rsquo;t she let that need carry her?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe had leaned close without noticing, had caught her hand around Grace\u0026rsquo;s ribs without noticing. She could have lived a hundred lives in that one night without noticing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace must have felt her pause, because she stilled and stood, slowly, so if Sal wanted she could close her hands and stop her, pull her down to the bed, to her mouth. Sal\u0026rsquo;s hands slid from her body like sand, or salt. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t mean to make things worse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd before Sal could apologize or explain, she was gone.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003chr\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eThey met the next morning at dawn. Sal had slept the kind of sleep that left her feeling like she hadn\u0026rsquo;t slept at all. Around the table, the others looked the same: tired, determined, haunted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; took the vote. \u0026ldquo;Do we go to the Maitresse?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti, full-voiced, as expected, answered, \u003cem\u003eYes\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances, \u003cem\u003eOf course\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace, a nod.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam grimaced, stood, ran a hand through the stubble of his hair, flared his lats and tensed his arms and did something weird with his jaw, and, at last: \u003cem\u003eSure\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s nod was not quite Grace\u0026rsquo;s nod, but close.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEveryone was looking at Sal, as if her vote made any difference.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd as they kept looking she realized that it did. They had left the Society and the Vatican behind. They were walking their own road, all alone together. No orders, no practices, no rites or hierarchs or offices or Teams. Friends.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe said yes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e4.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s two visits to the Market had not left her looking forward to a third, but the other people (loosely speaking) in attendance on her last visits at least seemed to be having a good time\u0026mdash;magicians haggling over drinks with monsters, rivals relaxed in the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s pledge of safety. This time, everyone in the Market\u0026rsquo;s village square seemed as unsettled as she\u0026rsquo;d felt on that first visit. \u0026ldquo;Doesn\u0026rsquo;t it seem different to you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace narrowed her eyes at the crowd. \u0026ldquo;The guys with the wolf pelts look the same.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They wear wolf pelts and always look like they\u0026rsquo;re on a three-wine-bottle hangover. They didn\u0026rsquo;t have far down to go. But now everyone else looks to be on their level.\u0026rdquo; Sal nodded toward a three-eyed woman she\u0026rsquo;d last seen the previous Market, drinking in a hot tub with identical triplets. Each of her eyes now had a thousand-yard stare. She spotted the triplets at the far corner of the square in front of the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s citadel, speaking to no one, standing holding hands in a circle. \u0026ldquo;Is it just me, or is this place more crowded than usual?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;I recognize that guy from China!\u0026rdquo; He waved, and whoever it was shied off into the crowd of glaring faces. \u0026ldquo;Must not have seen me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace crossed her arms. \u0026ldquo;Or he\u0026rsquo;s ignoring you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We had a great time, him and me! He showed me all around the place.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;After which you helped the Network break in and wreck it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Christina wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have caused any trouble if you hadn\u0026rsquo;t led the Chinese military in after us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not what happened. And anyway, I didn\u0026rsquo;t lead them.\u0026rdquo; If Grace was sore from their conversation, call it a conversation, in Sal\u0026rsquo;s room the night before, she hadn\u0026rsquo;t let on, though Sal had a hard time telling the difference between Grace angry and Grace frustrated and Grace keeping her own counsel. Sal felt lousy, and there was no way around it but through. Grace deserved better. \u0026ldquo;I do remember some of these people from the Bizarre. The woman with the tiger head, and those birds.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had said very little since they had walked\u0026mdash;and in Frances\u0026rsquo;s case, wheeled\u0026mdash;up the winding road and found this crowd milling before the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s gates. Her gaze moved like a searchlight, ponderous and direct, recording each curiosity for later reference. \u0026ldquo;Fascinating,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s so much to learn.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; returned from a conversation with a robed figure who had no visible face. \u0026ldquo;They got the same note. I imagine the Maitresse will explain herself when she\u0026rsquo;s ready.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll ask the wolf guys if they know what\u0026rsquo;s up,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, and started toward them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom behind, Liam called, \u0026ldquo;Are you sure about that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t hear any better ideas!\u0026rdquo; She turned to catch his reaction, but when she did she found Grace behind her. \u0026ldquo;Oh! Hi.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hi yourself,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Mind company?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal should have said a lot more than \u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; but that was all she could manage. What words were there for the sudden tight, warm feeling that came from seeing Grace in front of her, unexpectedly? Whatever terms she might have found if she looked deeply, she set them aside and focused on the wolf guys.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal had always hated the special awkwardness associated with approaching someone she knew by sight but had never met. Looming magical apocalypse really should have made that sort of thing feel easier by comparison, but awkward silences, in Sal\u0026rsquo;s experience, were pretty damn durable. One of the hidden benefits of being a cop had been the ability to start most official conversations with \u003cem\u003eSal Brooks, NYPD\u003c/em\u003e. This time she went with: \u0026ldquo;Hi. I\u0026rsquo;m Sal. Do you know what\u0026rsquo;s going on here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe wolf guy she\u0026rsquo;d addressed did not seem to notice. He squatted, draped in fur, knapping an edge on a stone knife. Sal tried again. \u0026ldquo;Excuse me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked up. His eyes were large and wild and yellow-gray, not unkind and yet not kind at all. When he opened his mouth, she saw long curved teeth and a long thin tongue.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Pardon Brother Gerard,\u0026rdquo; said a woman\u0026rsquo;s voice nearby. She was tall and dark and slim and heavily tattooed, her gaze a challenge, her eyes not quite human. \u0026ldquo;He has pledged not to use the human tongue. But you are known to us, Sal Brooks. And Grace Chen. Your kind have been no friends to the Brothers and Sisters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re not with the Society anymore,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. They\u0026rsquo;d said it enough among themselves, but saying so in the open still felt wrong. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re trying to help. Do you know what the Maitresse wants?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do not ask reasons of the stars, or the Maitresse,\u0026rdquo; she said, as if remembering a proverb. \u0026ldquo;Both make their will clear through work. Have you truly left the fold?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Something like that,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then perhaps one day you will find your place among the wolves. Or the wolves will find you.\u0026rdquo; Her smile seemed playful, but then, some wild things played with their food. \u0026ldquo;We know no more than you. A cry summoned the Brothers and Sisters from the high places. It is not our time to wear the skins.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, don\u0026rsquo;t listen to them,\u0026rdquo; advised a pampered and familiar voice behind her. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s all smell words and howls and \u003cem\u003evat musik zey make\u003c/em\u003e with that crew. While I\u0026rsquo;d never dream of questioning the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s guest list, I can think of a number of people this Market would be better off without.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tensed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the years since Sal had joined the weird parallel world of magic and books and Bookburners, she\u0026rsquo;d met good people, and weird people. She\u0026rsquo;d met evil people too, people with grand designs who made vast bargains with powers they could barely comprehend, willing to risk everything for might so long as the everything they risked belonged to someone else. She\u0026rsquo;d met torturers and murderers and demons by the score. And she\u0026rsquo;d met Povel Engstr\u0026ouml;m.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel, now wearing a faun-colored cashmere turtleneck, a thick scarf, horn-rimmed glasses with lenses she\u0026rsquo;d have laid a hundred bucks corrected nothing, pipe-cleaner skinny pants, and a coat with an ermine collar, was not any kind of good person. Set him against the true evils Sal had known\u0026mdash;monomaniacs like Christina or Mr. Norse, eschatological horrors like Hannah the monster archangel or the demon called the Hand, or even mortal monsters like Balloon and Stretch, who\u0026rsquo;d used their powers as Team Two agents to torture and murder countless innocents, including Sal\u0026mdash;and he\u0026rsquo;d also come up wanting. Was he evil? Bad, certainly. He was cruel, and greedy, and petty, and vicious. He was all flex, no muscle. But he could hire muscle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe last time she\u0026rsquo;d met him, he\u0026rsquo;d been trying to put a collar on Grace. For his personal collection.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal had been angry often in her life, though she tried not to let anger become a habit\u0026mdash;anger was bad mental hygiene, especially if you carried a gun. She\u0026rsquo;d not thought of Povel since the last Market, since she\u0026rsquo;d sent him on his way. There were so many things in the world more deserving of her attention\u0026mdash;mushrooms, for example, rotting logs, slugs. So it felt strange to see him and realize that somewhere in the back of her mind, she had spent the intervening months growing ever more furious. She wanted to put her fist through his face. \u0026ldquo;Povel. I don\u0026rsquo;t see your bear. Did your parents take it away?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe sneered; one of the two women behind him laughed\u0026mdash;they were twins, blonde and long, and though Sal had mistaken them for entourage or hangers-on at first glance, on second she saw their clothes were at least as fine as Povel\u0026rsquo;s, one in a black sweater and black jacket over riding pants and boots, the other wearing flowing trousers under a long fur-collared coat. \u0026ldquo;You always did have such colorful friends, Povel,\u0026rdquo; said the one in the furs. They looked down on Sal. Some of that was the fact that these women had two inches on her even without their heels, but Sal had a feeling they could have looked down on her if she were eight feet tall. \u0026ldquo;Delightful woman. How on earth did you know about Mummy and the bear?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Lucky guess,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, and guessed again. \u0026ldquo;Your brother started trouble last time. Are you going to keep him under control?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Povel\u0026rsquo;s never been under anyone\u0026rsquo;s control,\u0026rdquo; said the woman in fur. \u0026ldquo;Even his own.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel had paled, and he faked a nonchalant laugh. \u0026ldquo;Detective Brooks, please ignore Ingrid. The rest of us do. And this is my other sister, Gala.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman in the riding pants reviewed them; her eyes widened when they settled on Grace. \u0026ldquo;Povel, is this the one you were telling us about? I can see why you felt such a yen for her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just keep walking.\u0026rdquo; Sal tried to sound in control, but anger roughed the edge of her voice. \u0026ldquo;All of you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You see?\u0026rdquo; Povel said to his sisters. \u0026ldquo;Primitive. Violence not quite restrained. You can\u0026rsquo;t wait to, how would you say, take a swing at me, Detective Brooks? Do it. You might as well prove you don\u0026rsquo;t belong here\u0026mdash;this is all your lot\u0026rsquo;s fault, anyway, the whole crowd here out of season and up in arms. I never understood how you could bring yourselves to meddle in affairs so far beyond your grasp. You might have some shame, at least.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hold still for a second and I\u0026rsquo;ll show you,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, Market rules be damned, but as she stepped forward she found that Grace stood between them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, I \u003cem\u003esee\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo; Gala peered over the upper rims of her glasses, her sleepy eyes suddenly sharp. \u0026ldquo;Indeed, Povel. Quite a find. Amply worthy of study.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomething about the way she said \u003cem\u003estudy\u003c/em\u003e made Sal see red. And Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand was no longer on her shoulder. \u003cem\u003ePlay nice\u003c/em\u003e, she told herself. \u003cem\u003eAt least for now.\u003c/em\u003e \u0026ldquo;Look,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve had a busy few months. We broke London in half, fought an angel, and basically ended the world. So maybe you should step off before I do something all of us regret.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel\u0026rsquo;s face was a bad actor\u0026rsquo;s impression of shock, played for the cheap seats. But before he could laze his way into a reply, Mench\u0026uacute; interrupted: \u0026ldquo;Is there a problem?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe stood there with Liam and Asanti and Frances, and he hadn\u0026rsquo;t sounded angry when he spoke. Liam looked bored, even. But he had his silver knuckles on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hardly,\u0026rdquo; Povel said. \u0026ldquo;Just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. catching up. But I am cold, and in dire need of schnapps, and as our host doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem eager to explain herself, perhaps we could adjourn for now? Take, what would you call it, a rain check? Ta.\u0026rdquo; Ingrid smirked; Gala just watched Grace, dreamy and withdrawn, as they sailed off. The laws of nature still held some sway, even in this ebbing world, since the heat of Sal\u0026rsquo;s gaze wasn\u0026rsquo;t enough to make their retreating backs catch fire.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhile Sal was distracted, the wolf guys\u0026mdash;and gals\u0026mdash;had gone. Sal felt Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand tremble, through Grace herself seemed still. \u0026ldquo;That was dumb,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;But thank you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was nothing dismissive in that voice, no bravado. Sal felt the directness of it, like her touch the night before. And, as then, she pulled away. \u0026ldquo;It \u003cem\u003ewas\u003c/em\u003e dumb, wasn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace laughed, once and harshly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come on,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s get back to the hotel.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs she led them through the milling crowd, Liam shouldered up to her. \u0026ldquo;Sal?\u0026rdquo; He kept his voice low.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Your business is your own. But one friend to another\u0026mdash;Grace likes you. And you really should stop being a dick about it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003chr\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003eA raven woke Asanti that night with a tap on her window. Half-dreaming, she reviewed the small room, empty save for Frances curled around herself in the other bed. The raven sat on the windowsill, its bulk pressed against the glass, its eye unblinking. She sat up in bed and held still in the seeping cold of early morning, in the silence of small towns in parts of Europe where the forests had been long since hunted clean. The raven did not move. It knew that Asanti knew that it had not come by accident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer legs creaked as she dressed herself. A knot had worked its way behind her shoulder\u0026mdash;too long sitting down, perhaps, or too long standing or too long running. Too long too far from her family in beds her body did not know. When you were young you thought you wanted adventures, even though all the adventures you had found so far were merely mistakes dressed up in formal clothes and given a kinder name. When you got old, you had real adventures, and realized how easily they could break you.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe left without waking Frances or the others. When she stepped out into the chill, coat pulled close, scarf wound across her face, the raven launched itself from her window and flew north above the cobbled streets. She did not need to look to know where it was taking her. She appreciated the accommodating impulse it represented, and how rare such an impulse was in its mistress\u0026rsquo;s mind and heart. So she followed, though she could have found her way blindfolded, by feel, through an unfamiliar maze, to the woman who had sent for her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse waited on the ramparts. A storm rolled through the mountain passes, breathing thunder and flourishing cloud. Lightning lit the Maitresse in shadows without softness, and in the dark that followed her skin seemed to glow. Torchlight sank into the folds of her gown as if into an ocean. She held a goblet. Her other hand was bare and heavy with rings. The raven flew to her, and the Maitresse stroked its head once. The soft gold glow in its eyes faded back into her rings. The bird, still silent, flew away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had seen this woman in so many guises, some forbidding, some less so. She cloaked her power when she wished, or presented slivers of herself to different observers. But even naked, even in ecstasy, in pain, each piece suggested the whole.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe did not have to wear the mask of a queen to rule, but she wore it now, which told Asanti much.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maitresse,\u0026rdquo; she said, and bowed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse turned from the rampart, and this time her smile was small and sad. \u0026ldquo;Archivist.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not anymore, I\u0026rsquo;m afraid. I\u0026rsquo;m between archives.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You are an archive in yourself, Asanti. All those cardinals and priests at the Vatican knew that\u0026mdash;or else why would they struggle so to jess and hood you? You are more to the world away from Rome than all those dusty books locked up in it.\u0026rdquo; One ring glinted in a way that had nothing to do with the torches, and Asanti\u0026rsquo;s eye fell on another goblet, twin to the one the Maitresse held, which had not existed before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe drank. The wine was warm and sweet and heavy with spice. \u0026ldquo;You remembered.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We held the Market in the far north that year. You were young, brilliant, hungry, and very cold. The wine, at least, could warm you. You copied titles from my library while you thought I was not looking. And borrowed a slim folio of maps you thought I would not miss.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I returned it,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, making the show of defense even as the Maitresse made her show of attack. \u0026ldquo;I played fair.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come, now.\u0026rdquo; The Maitresse raised her goblet, and touched it to Asanti\u0026rsquo;s. \u0026ldquo;Neither of us ever plays fair. We haven\u0026rsquo;t the knack.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe second sip tasted better than the first. She thought of kings of death, and queens, and remembered that one should not eat or drink in hell. But this was not hell yet. \u0026ldquo;You were everything I wanted. Or so it seemed. Or you had everything I wanted. I was young, and confused.\u0026rdquo; Asanti set down the cup. \u0026ldquo;But even then, you were a bit of a coward.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Really?\u0026rdquo; This time the curve of the lips was genuine, and there was a flash of true amusement in the cold, deep eyes. Asanti had always felt a thrill of triumph when she could invoke that spark. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the approach you mean to take with me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You called them but you did not greet them. Your letter did not hint why we\u0026rsquo;ve been summoned. And now you\u0026rsquo;ve sent for me in particular, in secret, and I find you wearing all your instruments of power, ready to rehearse old stories. If you want to relive our youths, I\u0026rsquo;ll relive them with you. But I don\u0026rsquo;t think that\u0026rsquo;s why I\u0026rsquo;m here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s sigh merged with the thunder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it, Maitresse?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse drank the wine\u0026mdash;all of it\u0026mdash;set aside the goblet, and leaned forward onto the battlements. In that lean Asanti saw for the first time a woman as old as she\u0026mdash;older. The Maitresse had donned many faces for her, many ages, many guises, but she had never before looked quite so worn. Asanti wanted to hug her then, almost did. But the Maitresse sighed, and in that sigh she seemed to breathe her weakness out. She straightened, resolute, and the chance for an embrace was gone. \u0026ldquo;The world is ending, Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course you do.\u0026rdquo; She nodded, as if that made everything easier. \u0026ldquo;To end is to change. That\u0026rsquo;s all an ending is. The world changes around us, and we find ourselves upon a precipice that once seemed solid ground. I find myself, that is, on a precipice, and the other side, if there is another side, stands at a distance no leap could clear. And at the bottom, if there is a bottom, lies a fate I cannot guess. I must change. We must all change, together. That\u0026rsquo;s why I called you here. Those who love me, those who hate me. We need each other now. I need help. I need you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll do it,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAgain, that spark in her eye, and again, that smile. There was a time when Asanti would have strangled a man to see it. She might have\u0026mdash;almost\u0026mdash;considered defacing a book. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know what I\u0026rsquo;m asking.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t have to. It\u0026rsquo;s yours.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal, awake, saw the raven lead Asanti away, and felt better. At least she wasn\u0026rsquo;t the only one not sleeping. Then she thought about where the raven was leading Asanti and why, and why she\u0026rsquo;d gone, and what she might hope to find within the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s castle. The cut on her cheek hurt when she touched the bandage, but only like a cut cheek hurt, and the puncture wounds in her arm ached when she touched them, but only in the way wounds ached when healing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was afraid. She got up anyway, and dressed in the robe from the hotel closet. She cinched the belt at her waist. When she stepped out into the hall, she paused, then locked the door behind her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFloorboards creaked. She guided herself with one hand on the rough wallpaper. Her heart had gone wandering. It lived in her throat, her fingertips, her stomach, everywhere but where it should stay.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe found the door she sought. Streetlights through the hall window reflected off the walls and gave her light enough to see, but she still traced the number on the door by touch. She decided to go back to bed. That would be easier.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo she knocked, once, and waited, and felt teenage nervous, worse, felt scared like she\u0026rsquo;d felt as her ponytail turned to salt. That was magic: Things turned into other things, and did not turn back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door opened and Grace stood there in a nightgown, her hair up for sleep. At first she looked all cobwebs and blear, then raw and scared, then guarded again, closed off save for the skin just around her eyes, a stillness that betrayed her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I,\u0026rdquo; Sal started, but Grace held her finger to her lips and stepped in, away, leaving an opening.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal followed her inside and swung the door not quite shut behind.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I couldn\u0026rsquo;t sleep,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I hate this. I don\u0026rsquo;t know how you do it. It\u0026rsquo;s such a waste of time, when you have to sleep but you can\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stopped talking, and crossed her arms, and waited.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wasn\u0026rsquo;t fair,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Before. I haven\u0026rsquo;t been fair to you for a while now. You were right. This is all so much bigger than it used to be. Maybe it was always this big, but I could tell myself that there were other teams, that if we fucked up maybe some people would die and a city or two would fall, but the world, the big green world out there, would be fine. But it won\u0026rsquo;t. It never was fine, but it sure as hell won\u0026rsquo;t be anymore. And I\u0026rsquo;m so small, and I almost died yesterday, and for all I know I\u0026rsquo;ll die tomorrow. I feel people turning to me more than they used to, so if I fuck up, maybe I kill all of you too, and I still feel like I barely know what direction\u0026rsquo;s up. I don\u0026rsquo;t read Aramaic and I can\u0026rsquo;t fistfight a demon or hack a bank or put someone back together when they break. Last night, when you came to me, it felt wrong because I just needed something so physical that it wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be about you, or us, just me. Then, today, when you thanked me, I got scared you might lean on me and I would let you down. But I\u0026rsquo;ve kept this inside and it\u0026rsquo;s killing me. And I\u0026rsquo;ve kept other stuff inside too. I never should have thought I had to go through all this alone. And, sure, I know this is very sexy, isn\u0026rsquo;t it, me coming to your room in the middle of the night to apologize and explain why I\u0026rsquo;m such a mess. So.\u0026rdquo; Grace hadn\u0026rsquo;t said anything. Christ, why hadn\u0026rsquo;t she said anything? What would Sal think of Sal, if she\u0026rsquo;d stood in her own room, hearing all this from someone else? \u0026ldquo;I should go. I guess.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut she didn\u0026rsquo;t turn around.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal Brooks.\u0026rdquo; Grace was out of reach, but somehow Sal felt her heat from where she stood. Sal tried to keep her eyes on Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes. Grace would have made one hell of a poker player. \u0026ldquo;Do you mean to tell me you care whether I think you\u0026rsquo;re sexy?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOn Sal\u0026rsquo;s best night of office poker, she\u0026rsquo;d only lost a hundred bucks. \u0026ldquo;Um. Yes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re scared,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Because you\u0026rsquo;re smart. But for someone who\u0026rsquo;s so smart, you can be pretty dense. I think you\u0026rsquo;re great. And very sexy. Especially in that bathrobe.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be scared. And I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be scared alone.\u0026rdquo; Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t keep her own voice level. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t keep her voice at all\u0026mdash;she was almost whispering now. \u0026ldquo;I want to be with you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Close the door.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal closed it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace moved toward her. Sal smelled Grace\u0026rsquo;s hair, and her skin beneath, and she had never been quite good enough at girl to name the scents. There was sandalwood, and there was something floral, and the rest was her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace hooked her finger through the knot of Sal\u0026rsquo;s robe, and pulled, and the knot slipped open. Her hand climbed Sal\u0026rsquo;s chest, and slid onto her shoulder, and the robe slipped off, and she drew Sal naked toward her, and down to her lips.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTheir touch and the flick of her tongue untied another knot, invisible, that had bound Sal\u0026rsquo;s arms to her side, her legs together, and as that knot parted her arms circled Grace and pulled her close and lifted, and Grace did something with her weight and they spun around and Sal struck the wall, with Grace\u0026rsquo;s arms against her arms, and her leg between her legs, and she sank into a deeper kiss.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e5.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe next morning, Asanti filed into the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s keep with the others: wolf-men and tattooed women, aristocrats and cultists, humans and mostly-humans, the full gathering of the Market and the group she still couldn\u0026rsquo;t help thinking of as Team Three. She had a headache, and felt unsteady on her feet, but then, you could not always choose how you began the future. The Maitresse had offered few specifics\u0026mdash;but then, Asanti hadn\u0026rsquo;t pushed her. The wine helped, and the company, and the approaching storm.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe rest of the group looked rested\u0026mdash;Mench\u0026uacute; grave, Liam suspicious, Frances already in eager conversation with an elderly man with cats\u0026rsquo; eyes. Grace and Sal stood closer together, not quite holding hands, but the way they stood, always aware of each other, told Asanti the world had changed in more than one way last night\u0026mdash;or would soon. Good for them. They both needed some comfort, and joy. Sal especially. Liam didn\u0026rsquo;t know yet, or Arturo, of course, but there would be time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe keep walls rose around them. With the low mutter of an audience in an expensive theater, the crowd dispersed and arranged themselves in a loose semicircle, keeping their distance, all eyes on the empty dais. And then, as one and without warning, the voices stilled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA door opened in the wall, and the Maitresse emerged.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe marched forth, pace measured, eyes burning. Her train whispered like a river over stone. She\u0026rsquo;d drawn her full aspect about herself for this, and she looked glorious. The assembled magical powers of three continents faltered and fell silent, and where her gaze swept them they fell still. One of the wolf-brothers knelt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe reached the edge of the dais. Wind stilled. The courtyard smelled of mingled perfumes and musks, and of stone drying from last night\u0026rsquo;s rain. \u0026ldquo;I have called you here,\u0026rdquo; the Maitresse began, \u0026ldquo;mages and Bookburners, diabolists and haruspices, scholars and warriors, because no other force could gather you. You stand under my truce. And the world needs you.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For centuries after centuries, we followed the rise and fall of magic. We took shelter, or blossomed, as conditions changed. We hoarded our knowledge and resources because the more we had, the more we could use to defend ourselves and work our will. But that road leads nowhere. We cannot walk it anymore.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This change is different. Magic now does not flow in like the tide only to flow out again. The world will sink beneath this flood. Worms have eaten the foundations on which we rest, and we cannot clutch our wealth and secrets and hope the foundation will rebuild itself. Too long have we been idle players on our stage. Too long have we sought small advantage while we watched the wings from the corners of our eyes, awaiting the next hero or villain whose entrance would shape our scenes. There are no heroes, or else we all are heroes, and all waiting. No one is coming for us. We are all there is. And even if we work together, even if we share the burden as we have never shared it before, we may still fail. The world we save may no longer be the world we know.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But if we do not take that chance, there is no hope for us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe let that silence stretch, and the assembled magic of three continents leaned in to listen. Asanti felt a thrill of pride for her friend, for her deeds, and for the fact that she, only she, could pull this web together, could make so terrifying a case in so few words and know they would listen, perhaps because they trusted her, perhaps because they respected her, perhaps because they feared her. The why did not matter. Had the Maitresse known this day would come? Was this why, uncountable years before, she\u0026rsquo;d built the Market: because she knew that someday this misfit army would need a binding force, a common keystone? Maybe she planned all this centuries in advance. Or maybe she just realized what she had to do, and did it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Here,\u0026rdquo; the Maitresse said, \u0026ldquo;is my plan.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt should have ended then.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti would have thought that was a perfect ending for the whole story\u0026mdash;any half-trained reader could work out for themselves how this gang, come together, could go about shouldering the burden of the world. The Maitresse knew how, and the rest of them had the brawn and skill. That would be a perfect ending, save only that it was perhaps too pat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd the Maitresse had said it herself: Every ending was a change.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe opened her mouth to tell them what would come next, how they would save the world, or change it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore she could speak, there was a crack of thunder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe air above the dais tore. Shadow rolled from that gap in space to fill the courtyard with impenetrable darkness and the weight of seas. Asanti could not move, she could not breathe. Screams of pain and fear, roaring wrath, all came to her muffled beneath that unbearable weight. She staggered toward the dais, knees creaking, shoulders sagging. Another pulse of silent thunder followed, and a third, a wave of searing heat that forced her to screw her eyes tight shut, a chill in her bones. Time broke like it did beneath electric shock. The mind scattered. She fell, they were all falling, there was nothing left of \u003cem\u003ethem\u003c/em\u003e anymore but the fall and the sure prospect of a short sharp stop at the end. She could not remember how sun felt on her skin, or how air tasted without sulfur.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd still Asanti moved. She thrust past others curled and immobile beneath the dark, and gathered foul breath to cry a warning, or a spell.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe shadow passed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse lay dead upon on the dais. A sword of silver already tarnished black pierced through her robes into her chest, and out the other side into the stone beneath. And standing over her on the dais, his jacket smoking, his hands crimson with her blood, his face twisted into a parody of a smile, was a man Asanti had not seen since she\u0026rsquo;d cast him into the demon realm in a pitched battle for the treasures of the Knights of St. John.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe rested on the world like a razor blade on a balloon. He looked unright, suffused in pink, his angles flexing through alien geometry. His eyes were hollow pits, and when his face moved his skin cracked and bled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe thing that had been Alexander Norse said, \u0026ldquo;Hi.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\nAfter a no-holds-barred fight against encroaching magic in London, the Bookburners parted ways—Asanti, Frances, and Perry, who had engaged in a practical study of magic, separated from the Vatican, and Team Three stayed behind to continue their work. But soon, finding themselves unsupported by the Vatican and increasingly distressed at the Vatican’s unrealistic approach to this new, undeniably magical world, Father Menchú and his team also left the fold. Sal and Grace grew closer, and tentatively admitted feelings for each other. At the Market Arcanum, a rich, spoiled, Swedish attendee tried to kidnap Grace so he could have her for his own. The Bookburners later visited the Maitresse, an old friend of Asanti’s whom they had previously met in her role as the creator and controller of the Market Arcanum. The visit did not go smoothly. A hard-fought battle against the demon-possessed Alexander Norse resulted in victory for the Bookburners.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eHilary Sansone\u003c/strong\u003e: Leader of Team Two.\u003c/p\u003e \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum.\u003c/p\u003e \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAlexander Norse\u003c/strong\u003e: An old enemy of the Bookburners\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Max Gladstone\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.244","slug":"Bookburners-s4e01","audio":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/audio/season4/BBS4E01.mp3","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E01.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E01.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E01.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 1"},{"id":"5ad4ae404a189e00019c6d2d","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":2,"title":"The Blood-Dimmed Tide","released_date":"2018-06-20T10:52:35.019+00:00","released":true,"strapline":"A surprise inheritance keeps the Bookburners guessing.","byline":"Mur Lafferty","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E02.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/dividers/bookburners_episode1_divider.png","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-06-20","body":"\u003cp\u003eWhile the\u0026nbsp;athenaeum of the London law firm of Sequence Lord Goldman \u0026amp; Bozman was not nearly as legendary as what the Vatican had once hidden in its depths, it still possessed enough rare texts that the senior partners decided to employ several security measures, both conventional and magical.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eUnlike the Vatican\u0026rsquo;s archive, the law firm\u0026rsquo;s athenaeum was electricity free, going through pains to keep the magical texts uncontaminated by technology. A sophisticated central air system kept the place appropriately dry for the most part, but the interior was lit with gas lamps and candles, and all of the firm\u0026rsquo;s files and ledgers were kept the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSenior partner Daylen Lord sat at her desk in the wheel-shaped room, writing slowly in a massive book that smelled of basement secrets. Her script was precise as she made her notes, ponderously marking the ledger of hours worked and monies owed. She dipped her pen into the bottle of ink on her desk. The bottle sat on a Mr. Coffee cup warmer designed for a mug, but here it helped keep a combination of holy water, blood, and Higgins Fountain Pen India Ink from congealing.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer mother, Kendra Lord, had found that concoction worked best for writing magically binding legal documents, and Daylen kept the recipe to herself and didn\u0026rsquo;t tell the others in the firm that she bought the ink from Jackson\u0026rsquo;s Art Supplies. Many clients wouldn\u0026rsquo;t like to hear that their precious contracts had a hint of mundane ink within.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKendra, the founder of SLG\u0026amp;B, had also told her daughter to cut costs where she could. She\u0026rsquo;d bought the ink in bulk in her day, but Daylen found that the modern large arts and crafts stores were the cheapest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe put down her pen and rubbed her forehead to stave off a headache starting. Her head tended to pound if she worked too late into the night, but she really wanted to get these numbers down before bed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe candles beside her desk flared, and Daylen squinted and turned away from the blast of heat that was much too intense for simple wax-and-wick tinder. After a moment she grabbed her massive ledger and wrestled it off the table. It fell to the floor, safe from the flames. Then all the candles and lamps in the room extinguished.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe blinked against the darkness, trying to acclimate her eyes. This would not be good. But Daylen had lived through plenty of earth-shattering incidents, and her clients appreciated it when she stayed calm during disasters. Incidentally, \u0026ldquo;earth-shattering\u0026rdquo; was not as apocalyptic as most people feared. When the earth shatters, people keep on being people when they can, adapting when they have to. As her partner Benjamin Goldman sometimes noted, \u0026ldquo;The earth shatters? So you don\u0026rsquo;t go near the huge rent in the ground. Go on, keep living your life.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe hadn\u0026rsquo;t been plunged into darkness for no reason. The athenaeum would show her what she needed to see if she remained patient. And Daylen was nothing if not patient.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFinally, Daylen caught what she was looking for: A shelved tome on the circular bookcase that served as a hub for the vast library was glowing silver.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDespite her previous calm, a worm of anxiety burrowed through her insides. Only the most important clients were shelved in the hub, and if one of the books had manifested in this way, it could only mean a death. She rose from the table, her bones suddenly feeling old and creaky, and walked cautiously toward the case. As she got closer, she could see the book twitching, jumping, trying to wrest itself from the confines of its fellows. When she got to the case, it tipped off the shelf and fell to her feet, opening to the first page.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe crouched and read the glowing words.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;WITNESSETH I, Maitresse __________ (here her name had been smudged; it had been smudged from the moment she wrote it in the firm\u0026rsquo;s signature ink), being of sound mind and body, do proclaim these to be my final wishes regarding the distribution of my estate to my heirs. On the event of my death\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThus began the last will and testament of one of the most powerful beings in the world, deceased as of a few minutes ago.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ah, Maitresse,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said sadly. She\u0026rsquo;d seen many clients die\u0026mdash;estate planners always did\u0026mdash;but she never thought this one would happen during her life. She picked up the book and carried it back to her table. It was going to be a late night.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e1.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe would only know afterward what she had done to Sal, when the team sat her down and explained, looking at her with fear in their eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom Asanti\u0026rsquo;s point of view, the shock hit her like a fist. She staggered back and her ears went strangely fuzzy. She was dimly aware of screams, of footsteps. Someone jostled her, and someone else put a hand on her shoulder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eNO\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe didn\u0026rsquo;t want to be touched. She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to be comforted. If she were comforted, then someone else will have seen it, and it will be real. And it can\u0026rsquo;t be real. It can\u0026rsquo;t.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eIT CAN\u0026rsquo;T.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe thing inside her that had built up, that she hadn\u0026rsquo;t even realized, released, and it felt good.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe fell to her knees, the breath coming short and panicked. Hyperventilating. That would do no one any good, she told herself sternly, but the voice was very far away. Her inner voice also knew\u0026mdash;what had happened\u0026mdash;and wasn\u0026rsquo;t very convincing that right now was a bad time to completely lose her shit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomeone shouted, \u0026ldquo;Bookburners!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wanted to retreat, she wanted to run away, get away from the team that didn\u0026rsquo;t understand her, didn\u0026rsquo;t trust her, and run toward the woman who had always believed in her. But she was dead. This couldn\u0026rsquo;t be real. It couldn\u0026rsquo;t.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBlood welled in her mouth. It was odd that she registered the taste of the blood before she registered the slap, but the impact and pain came shortly thereafter. She opened her eyes, unaware that she had closed them. Grace stood in front of her, gripping her shoulders tightly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Snap out of it before you hurt someone else. We have to get out of here, and I have to carry Sal. I can\u0026rsquo;t carry you both.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eWhat happened to Sal?\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did you catch him?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; she said grimly. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s gone. Shit is falling apart and we have to get out of here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOf course it was falling apart without the Maitresse to hold it together. \u003cem\u003eThe center cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe tried to remember the other words to the poem, something about blood-dimmed tide. The exercise got her out, stumbling behind Grace, who had Sal in a fireman\u0026rsquo;s carry. Blood dripped from Sal\u0026rsquo;s head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eWhat happened to Sal?\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGuards, both magical and mundane, were closing in, demanding that everyone stay where they were, declaring that they were all suspects.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Should we stay?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked, but Mench\u0026uacute; pushed him toward the door.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Bookburners are convenient scapegoats,\u0026rdquo; Grace hissed. \u0026ldquo;We need to get out of here. Make yourself useful.\u0026rdquo; She shoved Sal\u0026rsquo;s body at Liam, who caught her in his arms. He opened his mouth to argue, but Grace was gone, parting the guards like the Red Sea.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti and Mench\u0026uacute; hurried in her wake, running through the holes she punched for them. Liam came after, Sal\u0026rsquo;s head bobbing against his chest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s burning so much, she\u0026rsquo;s going to die if she fights like this regularly,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, watching the blur that was Grace avoid weapons, fists, claws, and crackling spears of light.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If we\u0026rsquo;re caught, they\u0026rsquo;ll pin the blame on us, and she knows it. She\u0026rsquo;s got the most to lose; there are so many who would want the weapon the Vatican lost.\u0026rdquo; Bitterness tinged Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s words when he said \u0026ldquo;weapon.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti ducked a guard and tripped another one who was going after Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen they were outside. Asanti felt her feet under her and her wits returning. Was Norse still around? Could she identify his vehicle? Could she stop him?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The woods,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, following Grace, who had grabbed Sal again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But we can still catch him,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. Mench\u0026uacute; cut her off, looking her directly in the eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti. We are not the hunters right now. We are the hunted. We have to get somewhere safe. Sal is injured, and frankly, you\u0026rsquo;re not in your right mind. We will find him. We will make him pay. But not today.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Asanti moaned, but allowed herself to be dragged into the woods.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sat against a cold, wet wall, her head between her knees. She could dimly hear the chaos rage in the city around her, but the river of blood rushing through her ears drowned out everything else. She took some deep breaths to calm down and heard the \u003cem\u003edrip-drip\u003c/em\u003e of liquid onto pavement. She tried to remember the last time it had rained. She tried to remember the last time she was in a city.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLondon. Right. They lived in London now. But she wasn\u0026rsquo;t there at the moment.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eWas\u003c/em\u003e\u0026nbsp;she in a city?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNearby, someone wept, the kind of crying that rends the soul.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA cool hand touched the back of her neck. \u0026ldquo;Sal.\u0026rdquo; The touch was light, but insistent. Grace.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is it raining?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal?\u0026rdquo; Liam, now, a little farther away, sounding confused and a bit scared.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just give me a second,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. Her wits returned and then danced away like a satellite moving into view and then away again.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How is she?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked. He crouched on her other side. \u0026ldquo;Sal, can you lift your head?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal levered the iron block that was her head into an upright position and turned to face her friends. Grace and Mench\u0026uacute; looked at her impassively, and Frances was trying to be neutral, but Liam\u0026rsquo;s response was all she needed to see. He winced. \u0026ldquo;Aw, shit, Sal.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wasn\u0026rsquo;t on a city street. She was sitting on a rocky outcropping of a hill in the woods. The moon shone through to illuminate her friends, most of them. One of them crouched under a tree, back to Sal. That one.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam, Frances, check on Asanti,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. His voice wasn\u0026rsquo;t sharp, but it held a warning. \u0026ldquo;Sal,\u0026nbsp;do you know where you are?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;London. An alley.\u0026rdquo; Sal blinked and then focused on the trees again. \u0026ldquo;No. The woods. The Market\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; One eye wouldn\u0026rsquo;t focus. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t see.\u0026rdquo; She gestured feebly to one side of her face, the one that hurt. \u0026ldquo;Over here, anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace looked at Liam, who\u0026rsquo;d turned to the other member of their group by the tree. She pulled his shirttail from his jeans, and ripped a strip of fabric from it. She folded it up and pressed it to Sal\u0026rsquo;s forehead. \u0026ldquo;Hold that,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Tight.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe fact that Liam didn\u0026rsquo;t object to Grace\u0026rsquo;s assault told Sal more than his wince did. She followed Grace\u0026rsquo;s instructions and felt the lump of fabric go wet in her hand. The sobs under the tree began to subside. \u0026ldquo;We need to get the hell out of here,\u0026rdquo; Grace told Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe noise from outside the woods was growing louder. Anger. Bangs. Screams.\u0026nbsp;Cries of \u003cem\u003eBookburners!\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not raining, is it?\u0026rdquo; she asked Grace, her wits waxing like a moon, and then waning again.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re right. It\u0026rsquo;s not. Stand up.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t a question. Sal pulled her legs underneath her and, with the help of her friends, stood up.\u0026nbsp;She swayed, but managed to stay upright.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWith Mench\u0026uacute; under her arm and Grace holding her elbow, Sal let them lead her toward the weeping figure.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce Sal saw her, she felt silly. It was Asanti, of course. Their other team member. Why had she not remembered her? And were they still a team? The older woman was lying on the forest floor in a fetal position; her loud weeping had subsided into soft sobs. Liam knelt by her and Frances cushioned her head on her lap and patted her shoulder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, blinking her wet eye and still unable to focus. \u0026ldquo;What happened?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam swore softly. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t remember?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, there was some violence,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;But it\u0026rsquo;s all fuzzy. My head hurts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. She didn\u0026rsquo;t look at him. He said it again, his voice sharp.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe glared up at him, and Sal could feel the air crackle with energy. Her head began to throb in a most alarming way.\u0026nbsp;Frances leaned away from Asanti as if realizing the cat she was petting was really a tiger.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace kicked Asanti in the stomach. Asanti grunted, then sprang from Frances\u0026rsquo;s lap. Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t know what happened next, but something hit Grace and she flew backward to crash against a tree. Asanti fell to her knees, gasping, clutching her middle where Grace had kicked.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stood abruptly, pointing a finger at her. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ll be stopping that right the fuck now,\u0026rdquo; he snarled. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t use magic to attack your friends.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Better me than anyone else,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, returning to them. Sal realized Grace had manipulated Asanti into attacking her instead of Sal or Mench\u0026uacute;.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let me go back. He needs to pay for what he\u0026rsquo;s done,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, her voice hard as steel despite the tears that she had recently shed.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And he will,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said patiently. \u0026ldquo;But we don\u0026rsquo;t know how Norse made it as far as he did without being detected. We don\u0026rsquo;t know if he\u0026rsquo;s working with anyone. And they\u0026rsquo;re looking for scapegoats. Going back in there right now would be death. We need to regroup. We need to get Sal some help.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What happened to Sal?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, seeming to come out of her rage when she heard Sal\u0026rsquo;s name. \u0026ldquo;Did they hurt her?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, you idiot,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;She tried to pull you back and you hit her with fucking magic like you just did to Grace. Only Sal is a lot squishier than Grace. \u003cem\u003eYou\u003c/em\u003e hurt her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That is why we need to get you out of here,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Before you let loose again. And before they find us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u003cem\u003eThat is why \u003c/em\u003eyou shouldn\u0026rsquo;t do magic,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, hands on her hips. \u0026ldquo;You hurt people. People like Sal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances looked uncomfortable, like she wanted to argue with Grace, but it was clear that Grace was right in this instance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s face went slack when she realized she had hurt Sal, and then her jaw set. They hadn\u0026rsquo;t convinced her, Sal could see.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What \u003cem\u003ehappened\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked, her head feeling heavy again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll tell you when we get somewhere safe,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, but Grace interrupted him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No we won\u0026rsquo;t. We\u0026rsquo;ll tell her now. The Market was attacked. Someone killed the Maitresse. Asanti shut down, you touched her, and she hit you with whatever magic she had brewing. We\u0026rsquo;re not sure what she hit you with. You went down and we got the hell out of there.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shit,\u0026rdquo; Sal said under her breath. \u0026ldquo;The Maitresse? Are you sure she\u0026rsquo;s dead?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re sure,\u0026rdquo; Grace and Liam said at the same time. Sal winced. Asanti slowly got to her feet, her jaw so tight Sal wondered if she were grinding her teeth to powder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay, so who did it?\u0026rdquo; Sal pressed. \u0026ldquo;Did we catch them? Stop them?\u0026rdquo; They were silent. \u0026ldquo;Did we just avoid dying ourselves?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded grimly.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Barely,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; agreed. \u0026ldquo;After Asanti hit you, we were focused on getting the two of you out of there safely.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How much did you burn to get us out?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace wouldn\u0026rsquo;t meet her eyes. \u0026ldquo;Not much.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It wasn\u0026rsquo;t a direct hit,\u0026rdquo; a familiar voice said from behind them.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Dammit, Perry,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re liable to get killed if you sneak up on people in the woods after a magical assassination.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry stepped in front of Sal, his eyes glowing only slightly in the dark. \u0026ldquo;What the hell are you doing here?\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s dangerous!\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Clearly,\u0026rdquo; he said, reaching out and peeling the rag away from her head. He looked from her to Asanti, who was standing but holding a tree for support. \u0026ldquo;You didn\u0026rsquo;t tell me you knew this spell,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u0026nbsp;His voice had taken on a slight ethereal tone. Aaron was speaking now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. new. I went to it on instinct,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, not looking at any of them.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace made a disgusted noise. Sal felt her wits slide away from her and she waited patiently for the full moon again, holding on to that one thought\u0026mdash;that they would return.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry jabbed his finger around her wound. \u0026ldquo;Fuck, Sal, you were lucky,\u0026rdquo; he said, sounding more like himself. \u0026ldquo;This could have taken your head off, or scrambled your brains if it had been much deeper.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What was it?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked Asanti. \u0026ldquo;What did you hit her with?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti didn\u0026rsquo;t answer. Liam looked to Perry. \u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t see it, obviously,\u0026rdquo; Perry said. \u0026ldquo;Just felt it. There was turmoil. Then everything was bright lights, and then darkness, and then Sal was hurt. Then you were out and running and Sal was bleeding like a sheep with its head cut off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It looks like someone hit her with a poem,\u0026rdquo; he added.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Weaponized literature?\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s all we need!\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; nodded. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve heard of this. The words don\u0026rsquo;t so much cast spells as they themselves become the spell. It\u0026rsquo;s very risky.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam frowned. \u0026ldquo;Did the Irish invent that? Sounds like us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti rubbed her forehead, leaving a smear of blood behind. \u0026ldquo;They had a hand in it, yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Weaponized words are risky? And the other magic we deal with is like a Build-A-Bear workshop,\u0026rdquo; Sal grumbled. Blood had flowed down her face again and she wiped it off her lips. \u0026ldquo;Can I have my rag back, please?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and examined her more closely. \u0026ldquo;It was a glancing blow, there was nothing caught inside. You\u0026rsquo;ll be okay.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;d hate to have preposition poisoning,\u0026rdquo; she said, covering the wound again and smiling.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry didn\u0026rsquo;t smile back. \u0026ldquo;You really would,\u0026rdquo; he said, and walked deeper into the woods.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where is he going?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. \u0026ldquo;We can\u0026rsquo;t let him wander off.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Back to the car,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;If you cut through the woods, it\u0026rsquo;s a shortcut.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or you get eaten by whatever menagerie they keep out here,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, looking around.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace guided Sal after Perry. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s safer than going back to the chalet. Come on. Bring Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can bring myself,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u0026nbsp;\u0026rdquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not a load of potatoes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course you\u0026rsquo;re not,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;A load of potatoes doesn\u0026rsquo;t cast magical spells and hurt its friends.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were silent for the rest of the walk back to the car.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal thought she could smell Asanti\u0026rsquo;s rage, simmering deep, but that might just have been the coppery blood on her face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was hard to think of the primary school outside London as \u0026ldquo;home,\u0026rdquo; with \u0026ldquo;bedrooms\u0026rdquo; and the like, but it had been an abandoned building with enough room for Asanti\u0026rsquo;s books, for Liam and Grace to train, and for each person to have privacy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had claimed the chemistry room as her own, but ended up sleeping on the couch in the school library more often than not. Frances had the biology room next door. Mench\u0026uacute; had the headmaster\u0026rsquo;s office, which also had a couch. The other three slept in the math department on cots they had found in the nurse\u0026rsquo;s office.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace didn\u0026rsquo;t leave the algebra room until she was sure that Sal would stay in bed to sleep off the remaining effects of her attack. They\u0026rsquo;d been able to dose her with ibuprofen and allergy medication to deal with the pain and help her sleep, but Liam headed out to find a chemist to break into with a list of stronger drugs to pilfer.\u0026nbsp;Or, even rarer, a chemist open at all in magic-soaked London.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTucking Sal in was strange. Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t remember the last time she had put someone in bed and left them there. It was always happening to her. She had often felt abandoned, but now realized that\u0026mdash;at least when Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; had done it\u0026mdash;there was an element of safety and nurturing included. Even before she and Sal had finally gotten together.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow she got to see what people did after tucking in a loved one: If they were anything like her, they would be looking for the member of their team half-mad with grief and rage, and making sure that person didn\u0026rsquo;t cast any more harmful spells.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances appeared at the end of the long hallway and waited for her. She wore a simple purple dress with a pleated skirt that would accommodate her tentacles.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eTentacle\u003c/em\u003e, Grace amended. Frances\u0026rsquo;s constantly shifting magical malady was difficult to get used to; while her lower half was always tentacles, the number varied. Now she looked more snake-like, balancing on the one thick tentacle like a cobra. A cobra who was eating a chocolate bar.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s up?\u0026rdquo; Frances said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We need to talk to Asanti. She\u0026rsquo;s got to understand what she\u0026rsquo;s doing to the team. Come on,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, and led her to a stairwell. \u0026ldquo;Can you maneuver stairs?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances frowned, cocking an eyebrow. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s been a while, Grace. I think I can get around.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace simply nodded and they took the stairs to the library.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace hadn\u0026rsquo;t seen Asanti since they had returned to London hours earlier. She guessed that the archivist had sequestered herself in her library, stuffed mostly with middle grade and young adult books. Liam had joked that the kids would probably have preferred the few books Asanti and Frances had added to the shelves, but no one had thought that was funny. They had shelved books like \u003cem\u003eInedia\u003c/em\u003e, \u003cem\u003eVerba Armis\u003c/em\u003e, and \u003cem\u003eEt Putant Metu\u003c/em\u003e next to books like \u003cem\u003eWonder\u003c/em\u003e and \u003cem\u003eA Wrinkle in Time\u003c/em\u003e. Sal had said it hurt her head to look at the shelves, and Grace hadn\u0026rsquo;t been sure she had been speaking metaphorically.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sat on the threadbare orange couch that had to be from the 1970s, at least. She focused on a book that looked to be bound in bronze, and Grace wondered how heavy it was.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer face still puffy from crying, Asanti looked up when they came in. Grace hadn\u0026rsquo;t bothered to knock. Asanti dismissed them by looking back down at her book. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m busy.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded and sat down on the sofa beside her. \u0026ldquo;I can see that. Reading up on more magic? Going to throw out another spell? At someone you don\u0026rsquo;t know, in a direction you don\u0026rsquo;t know, to do\u0026mdash;what? Kill? Capture? Do you even care?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t expect support from you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u0026nbsp;\u0026rdquo;What do you want, Grace?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace\u0026rsquo;s irritation flared, but she took a deep breath. \u003cem\u003eSome problems you can\u0026rsquo;t punch\u003c/em\u003e, she reminded herself. She put her hand on Asanti\u0026rsquo;s shoulder. \u0026ldquo;You shouldn\u0026rsquo;t expect that kind of support. Asanti. Look at me. Look at Frances.\u0026rdquo; Asanti reluctantly looked up from her book. \u0026ldquo;We are the result of magic misused. Right now, Sal is also the result of magic misused, though it doesn\u0026rsquo;t look like she is permanently changed. But she could have been.\u0026rdquo; Grace punctuated each of the last words with finality, working to keep the anger, but not the gravitas, from her voice.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey,\u0026rdquo; Frances said. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t appreciate being made an example of.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace rounded on her, betrayal caught in her throat. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t have to make an example of you. The example is right there.\u0026rdquo; She pointed to Frances\u0026rsquo;s lower half.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances went still and white, and Grace realized she\u0026rsquo;d gone too far. She focused on Asanti again. \u0026ldquo;Frances and I should be constant reminders not to mess with magic! How many more of us have to get permanently fucked up to convince you?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m done here,\u0026rdquo; Frances said coldly. \u0026ldquo;Asanti, be more careful. But don\u0026rsquo;t let her bully you into quitting. We need you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace watched her go, baffled. Who wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be outraged at magic destroying others\u0026rsquo; lives the way it had destroyed theirs?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Frances is more accepting of my work,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said coldly. \u0026ldquo;Why can\u0026rsquo;t you\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You. Hurt. Sal!\u0026rdquo; Grace said, fists clenched. \u0026ldquo;You could have killed her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace, do you ever stop to think that all that speed and power and healing ability you have is due to magic? You use your magic every day of your life\u0026mdash;you\u0026rsquo;re alive because of magic\u0026mdash;and you point fingers at me for doing the same.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Mine doesn\u0026rsquo;t hurt my friends,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Every time you burn, you have less time with Sal,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Doesn\u0026rsquo;t that hurt her?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace pulled up, unexpectedly stung. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not the same.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti raised an eyebrow, knowing she had gotten through.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs a woman who usually dealt in absolutes, sleeping versus waking, action versus silence, black versus white, Grace found compromises difficult to stomach. They usually slowed things down, which she resented. But when you were awake most of the time, the gray shades made themselves more apparent.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;Can you at least wait?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti frowned. \u0026ldquo;Until when?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Until we know what we\u0026rsquo;re dealing with,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We are dealing with Norse. Again. And if I can just find the right information, I may be able to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Asanti bit her lip and turned a page in the book.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Be able to what? Time travel? Bring her back from the dead?\u0026rdquo; Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes grew wide. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not seriously trying that, are you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti didn\u0026rsquo;t answer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Magic is your hammer, Asanti, and every problem you encounter is a nail,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Maybe we can try to fix things with, I don\u0026rsquo;t know, a wrench, or a staple gun.\u0026rdquo; She trailed off, the metaphor getting the better of her.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or an old-fashioned police investigation,\u0026rdquo; Sal said from behind them.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey all jumped. Grace leaped off the sofa. \u0026ldquo;You shouldn\u0026rsquo;t be up.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m fine,\u0026rdquo; she said, smiling at her. \u0026ldquo;I can solve this. This is what I trained for years to do.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti didn\u0026rsquo;t get up. \u0026ldquo;I can find him, I can save her. I know I can. I just need a little time.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Safely?\u0026rdquo; Sal\u0026rsquo;s voice held no accusation or bitterness, just a gentle probe. She looked like she knew the answer but she needed to hear that Asanti knew it too.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti leaned back against a cushion and closed her eyes. Her mouth twisted and her chin quivered, and the tears she was clearly trying to hold back leaked down her cheeks. \u0026ldquo;I just can\u0026rsquo;t believe\u0026mdash;can\u0026rsquo;t believe she\u0026rsquo;s gone. That someone beat her. That I can\u0026rsquo;t do anything about it. I keep thinking if I can do this spell or read that book, I can fix it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s why you should let us handle this. You need to rest, and mourn.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not cutting me out of this,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, her voice still thick.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I never said we were,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m saying you need to let us be a part of this. If you do it on your own, you will burn out. Very likely literally.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m so tired,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And you should be too,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, taking Sal by the hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore they left, Sal reached out, closed the book, and handed Asanti a tissue from the desk by the sofa.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce they were out of the library, Sal allowed the exhaustion to touch her voice. \u0026ldquo;You dosed me. I don\u0026rsquo;t have time for a drugged-out sleep,\u0026rdquo; she grumbled. \u0026ldquo;I need to see Mench\u0026uacute;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You need to get some sleep and heal before you do anything else,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, trying to guide her back to bed, but Sal resisted.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m serious, Grace. The best time to gather information is right now. I need to see him.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace opened her mouth, but Mench\u0026uacute; called down the hall, \u0026ldquo;Grace, is that you? I need you to assemble the team. We have a situation.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal needs her sleep, and Asanti is in no shape\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Grace began, and Mench\u0026uacute; cut her off.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not a request. Sal, Liam, Asanti, you, and I have to be here. Just get them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace let Sal go and turned to get Asanti, and Sal put her hand out to the wall to steady herself. Her head was feeling better, but it still throbbed on occasion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe stumbled down the hall, feeling dizzy, until she reached the front office, outside of the headmaster\u0026rsquo;s office, Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s room. He stood by the door, shifting from foot to foot. He crossed and uncrossed his arms. Sal had only seen him this nervous when dealing with the bureaucrats in the Vatican. Were they here?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen he caught sight of her he went out to meet her and guide her to a chair in the office.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry to get you up, but she\u0026rsquo;s really quite insistent,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was already up,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, blinking. Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s body had blocked the view into the office before, but now she could see another person was in the room with them. On the plastic-covered couch beside her chair sat a small woman who looked to be about sixty years old with dark brown skin and a flat bob that curled under slightly at the ends. She wore a white business suit and sensible black boots. She held a battered briefcase with a golden lock on her lap.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is Daylen Lord,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s a lawyer.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shook Daylen\u0026rsquo;s hand. \u0026ldquo;What kind? Are we in trouble for something?\u0026rdquo; The very idea made her even more tired.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Estate planning, in this capacity,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said. \u0026ldquo;I represent the estate of the woman known as the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Damn, you\u0026rsquo;re fast. She\u0026rsquo;s\u0026mdash;what, twenty-eight hours dead or something?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked, looking from the lawyer to Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re not regular human lawyers,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I prefer to say nothing more until the other heirs get here,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said, folding her hands over her briefcase.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u0026lsquo;Heirs\u0026rsquo;?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. The woman shook her head slightly, so Sal looked to Mench\u0026uacute; to confirm.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe shrugged. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what she said.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace, Liam, and a disoriented-looking Asanti walked in. Sal figured she had just fallen asleep when Grace had had to wake her again. They clustered around the door with Mench\u0026uacute;, while Daylen sat alone on the couch and Sal slumped in the easy chair.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s everyone you asked for,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s this about?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDaylen introduced herself again for the benefit of the new arrivals, and then passed her hand over the gold lock on her briefcase. It sprung open without her having produced a key. \u0026ldquo;The Maitresse was a very wealthy woman and had strict guidelines in her will that determined who would receive her estate after her death. Upon her death, her will manifested. I have been working on it since then.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What, we\u0026rsquo;re all rich heirs now?\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s stupid. I can see how Asanti would be an heir, but I have a hard time believing that she would have left any one of the rest of us a penny to bite on. Her garden nearly killed us,\u0026rdquo; he added, waving his hand to include Sal and Grace, \u0026ldquo;while she and Asanti had tea and baked bread not ten meters away.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not my place nor my job nor my wish to explain her actions, only to explain your inheritance,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said. She dipped into the briefcase and pulled out a golden envelope. She handed it to Asanti. \u0026ldquo;This is a key to her vault. Normally, each heir would receive one, but she indicated that the five of you usually move as a group anyway, so you need only one key.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti took the envelope mutely, and turned it over in her hands.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what did she leave us?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked. \u0026ldquo;Please tell me it\u0026rsquo;s a magic sword. I could use a magic sword right about now.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s vault is magically coded to give its inheritance to the person or persons to whom the Maitresse willed its contents. It will be obvious what items go with which heir,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s reckless,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s to stop someone from grabbing another\u0026rsquo;s inheritance?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lawyer smiled a prim, close-lipped, secret smile.\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;The vault.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal made an exasperated noise. \u0026ldquo;Come on, Mench\u0026uacute;. That\u0026rsquo;s a question Liam would ask.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam made a strangled objection, but Mench\u0026uacute; shrugged. \u0026ldquo;It had to be said. I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be the one to accidentally grab the wrong thing and trigger a magical security system.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You will be fine. Nothing can hurt you in there, so long as you take what\u0026rsquo;s meant for you,\u0026rdquo; Daylen said. She reached out and handed Sal a card, surprising her. \u0026ldquo;Here\u0026rsquo;s my number. Call me if you need anything regarding this transaction, and if you have your own estate planning needs, please consider Sequence Lord Goldman and Bozman.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe rose, nodded to each of them, and let herself out.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti opened the letter and pulled out something golden about the size of an index card. As she read it, Liam looked from Sal to Mench\u0026uacute; and then back to Sal. \u0026ldquo;Wait. Why did she give \u003cem\u003eyou\u003c/em\u003e her business card?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stayed behind when everyone else left the office. Mench\u0026uacute; sat at his desk, staring at a notepad on which he had written nothing. He looked up and saw that she was still there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You need your rest, especially if we\u0026rsquo;re traveling again so soon,\u0026rdquo; he said, and looked back down at the pad.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;People \u003cem\u003eneed \u003c/em\u003eto stop telling me that,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m a big girl, I know when I need rest. I want to talk to you about the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe rubbed his forehead. \u0026ldquo;If you don\u0026rsquo;t need rest, I certainly do. I can\u0026rsquo;t think about organizing an investigation right now. Let\u0026rsquo;s talk about it tomorrow.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t need to organize anything,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll do it. This is what I do. Can\u0026rsquo;t have Grace punch it or Asanti magic it until we know who to punch. Or magic. Can\u0026rsquo;t have Liam hack it till we find out who to hack. I know how to investigate a murder. And we have to start as soon as possible.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wished he would say something. He kept looking at the paper in front of him.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey, are you okay?\u0026rdquo; she finally asked.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do it,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;You know best what to do in this situation. The team is yours.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe put her hands up defensively. \u0026ldquo;Hey, I\u0026rsquo;m not staging a coup here. I\u0026rsquo;m just saying let me start this specific investigation. That\u0026rsquo;s it.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis eyes met hers, and they were so full of despair that she wanted to hug him. \u0026ldquo;Take the team. I don\u0026rsquo;t know what to do with it anymore. Maybe with you at the helm we can get some of our old focus back. We\u0026rsquo;re not even Team Three, are we? We\u0026rsquo;re just a group of people. Struggling along as best we can.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We were always that, Mench\u0026uacute;. But I\u0026rsquo;ll take over as long as you need me to,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re, uh, still coming with us, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course I am. But you have to let me get some rest first.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe shooed her out of the chair and sat down on it, turning away from her.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal left, uneasy. That hadn\u0026rsquo;t gone as she had planned, and she worried that he had ceded more than just the investigation to her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMaybe Grace would have been a better choice to talk to him.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal knocked on Liam\u0026rsquo;s door and he called for her to come in.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m heading up the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s investigation,\u0026rdquo; she said without preamble. \u0026ldquo;Can I count on you?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe blinked at her. \u0026ldquo;You? What\u0026rsquo;s wrong with Mench\u0026uacute;?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal swallowed her irritation. \u0026ldquo;I know what I\u0026rsquo;m doing, Liam. This is my specialty.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, I know that, but I\u0026rsquo;m serious\u0026mdash;what\u0026rsquo;s wrong with him? He looks like his best friend died, not Asanti\u0026rsquo;s.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shrugged. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s definitely acting weird. I think the loss of the Vatican\u0026rsquo;s support is hitting him.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam nodded slowly. \u0026ldquo;He has depended on the Church and God his whole life, almost. He\u0026rsquo;s lost one of his two pillars. We need to watch him.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sure, you keep an eye on him. But can I count on you when I need computer work?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe snorted. \u0026ldquo;You mean will I keep doing the job I\u0026rsquo;ve done for this group for years?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Considering we\u0026rsquo;re not Team Three anymore, I feel it\u0026rsquo;s important to ask, yeah,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have my sword!\u0026rdquo; he said, flourishing an imaginary blade.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe rolled her eyes \u0026ldquo;Great, thanks.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I really hope the Maitresse left me a sword. How sweet would that be?\u0026rdquo; He swung his imaginary sword again. \u0026ldquo;And I bet you have Grace\u0026rsquo;s axe too, if you ask!\u0026rdquo; he called after her as she left. \u0026ldquo;And Asanti\u0026rsquo;s bow!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was reading in an easy chair in the trigonometry classroom. She answered Sal before she could finish the question.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course you have my support,\u0026rdquo; she said, looking back to her book as if it was no big deal. \u0026ldquo;Why do you even need to ask?\u0026rdquo; She turned the next page of\u0026nbsp;\u003cem\u003eThe Left Hand of Darkness.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried to explain the same thing she had to Liam, but Grace waved her off. \u0026ldquo;Arturo is floundering. He needs to follow for the moment, not lead.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why don\u0026rsquo;t you tell him that?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe finally looked up. \u0026ldquo;He didn\u0026rsquo;t ask.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal made an exasperated noise. Grace smiled at her and pointed at her bed, which was made of two cots pushed together. \u0026ldquo;Now get some rest before you fall over, or I\u0026rsquo;m rescinding my offer of help.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal climbed into Grace\u0026rsquo;s bed, her body feeling made of lead. She would talk to Asanti in the morning.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace turned out the light, but her candle still burned in the corner of the room. \u0026ldquo;Would you really take back your offer?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked as she felt the bed shift.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course not,\u0026rdquo; Grace said into her ear, her arm going around Sal.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you just saying that because I actually got in bed?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace laughed, but Sal was asleep in the moment between the laugh and the answer, and she never heard whatever Grace said after.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had fallen asleep on her couch with the lights on, and woke up in disorientation when Mench\u0026uacute; sat down on her couch near her feet. She looked around blearily. \u0026ldquo;Arturo? What time is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Four in the morning,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What can\u0026rsquo;t wait till the sun comes up?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I need you, Asanti. I need you now more than ever. Things are falling apart. I don\u0026rsquo;t know where I can go.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe sighed and sat up. \u0026ldquo;You have me, you always have.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe raised an eyebrow.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right, we haven\u0026rsquo;t been very loyal to each other in the recent past, but I think now necessity is forcing us to back each other up, if not loyalty and trust.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t trust you,\u0026rdquo; he said. She sputtered and tried to interrupt, but he held up his hand. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t trust you if you continue using magic. \u0026ldquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe bristled. \u0026ldquo;You want to shackle me to dead texts just like the Vatican did.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no shackling, Asanti. But Sal got injured. You could have killed her. You were too emotional and you lashed out\u0026mdash;without even knowing who you were attacking. We have to make sure that doesn\u0026rsquo;t happen again.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;First Grace, now you. Why didn\u0026rsquo;t you all just get together and arrange an intervention?\u0026rdquo; she snapped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perhaps you could instead think that those who love you are concerned about you. You can harm those around you, or you could harm yourself. Look at what happened to Perry. Or any number of people we\u0026rsquo;ve seen over the years.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sat in silence. He waited patiently, not prodding her. She finally breathed in through her nose, long and slow, and sighed it out her mouth. Her shoulders relaxed and she sat back on the couch. \u0026ldquo;I will need something from you, if we\u0026rsquo;re talking about trust right now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m part of the team for real. I am with you in the field\u0026mdash;any trip you go on, I\u0026rsquo;m there. I will not be jailed to a library, whether it\u0026rsquo;s the Vatican\u0026rsquo;s Archives or the children\u0026rsquo;s library here, again. If you\u0026rsquo;re ever associated with the Church again, I will not follow you unless you can guarantee the same.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe nodded slowly. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s fair. As long as you follow my request.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not done,\u0026rdquo; she said. He motioned for her to continue. \u0026ldquo;You keep me informed of everything. You don\u0026rsquo;t hide things from me, especially anything about the Maitresse. Her, Perry, Aaron, Hannah\u0026mdash;I need to know it all. We suffer when we hide things from each other, Arturo.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can you promise the same?\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Done,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suppose you\u0026rsquo;re relieved to be free of the Church,\u0026rdquo; he said, a tone of bitterness in his voice.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I just promised not to lie to you,\u0026rdquo; she said with a ghost of a smile. \u0026ldquo;So yes, I\u0026rsquo;m relieved. I miss my archive, but it was a stagnant cell, and the freedom is very sweet.\u0026rdquo; She looked around the library. \u0026ldquo;Of course, freedom means a primary school in a city destroyed by magic, and the reading material isn\u0026rsquo;t as challenging, but we take what we can get.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; chuckled a bit, but sobered when she continued. \u0026ldquo;What about you? How are you coping? Surely leaving the bureaucracy is a relief?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like it or not, bureaucracy is the byproduct of an orderly institution,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;It wasn\u0026rsquo;t always fun, but I understood the necessity. That\u0026rsquo;s lost to me now.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And the rest of it, I guess you miss that too.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Must you ask, Asanti?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fair enough. I can\u0026rsquo;t pretend to miss the Church the way you do, but I do understand the loss of something sacred.\u0026rdquo; Tears closed up her throat again and she shuddered.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe put his arm around her. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m so sorry, Asanti. We\u0026rsquo;ll find out what caused this. Who\u0026rsquo;s helping him.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAnd they will burn\u003c/em\u003e, she added mentally, letting go of the tears in the safety of his embrace.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs excited Liam was about getting a magic heirloom from the Maitresse\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003ePlease\u0026nbsp;let it be a sword\u0026mdash;\u003c/em\u003ehe wasn\u0026rsquo;t keen on the idea of traveling again. It was therefore with mixed emotions that he witnessed the rather impressive display of magic Asanti performed the next morning.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAlthough she was quick to explain to them that she hadn\u0026rsquo;t really done anything, just read aloud the invitation to visit the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s vault. After she had said the words, the air crackled in front of her and a golden tear appeared, its edges ragged. She reached out without fear and pulled aside the edges to reveal what looked like a basement.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought we\u0026rsquo;d be flying,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is faster,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Also, it\u0026rsquo;s easier for her to hide the location if you can only visit via invitation.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal leaned over and peered inside the tear. \u0026ldquo;It looks like the stock room of a department store.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;She paused. \u0026ldquo;A shitty department store.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was right. Fluorescent lighting cast a harsh, morale-sapping glare over shelves that lined every vertical space. Rows and rows of items crowded the shelves. Liam thought he spied a tall hoover box. He didn\u0026rsquo;t want the magic hoover.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wait a moment, we need to talk about this,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, holding her by the shoulder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe glared at him. \u0026ldquo;Arturo, we have only one invite for the five of us. The lawyer made that very clear. Should I go without you?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe set his jaw and lifted his hand off her shoulder. \u0026ldquo;We could just not go.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re all going,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, stepping beside Asanti. \u0026ldquo;There will very likely be clues here. We need to see what she wanted us to have.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEveryone stared at her, but Mench\u0026uacute; didn\u0026rsquo;t make another argument. Sal and Asanti stepped through the portal together without hesitation. After a moment, Liam followed. Grace and Mench\u0026uacute; brought up the rear, Mench\u0026uacute; slightly ahead, Grace covering his back, as usual.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam expected it to be crackly or hot as he passed through; he\u0026rsquo;d experienced enough magic to recognize its side effects. But this tear in space was much more impressive-looking than it was painful. He had a moment\u0026rsquo;s disorientation when one foot was in the primary school and one was in the storage room of the department store, and then he stepped out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why was the Maitresse into multiple colors of coffeemakers?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked, looking at a shelf of kitchen appliances. \u0026ldquo;I knew she had a domestic side, but I didn\u0026rsquo;t know she was a hoarder.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is a veil,\u0026rdquo; Asanti explained patiently. She took out the invitation and turned it to the back. She read the words there aloud (more Latin, Liam guessed, but nothing he\u0026rsquo;d heard in church) and the air shimmered around them. It got much darker and a musty smell hit his nostrils. The brightly colored appliances and stacks of towels disappeared and a much more interesting gathering of items appeared, lit by soft gas lighting coming from the wall. A table in front of them held neat stacks of extinguished candles beside brass candle holders with curved handles. In front of it all stood a tall blue candle in a crystal candlestick and a small, tented white card. The card said \u003cem\u003eTake One \u003c/em\u003ein elaborate script.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Now we\u0026rsquo;re talking,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, darting forward.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Slow down, you fool,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, snagging his sleeve. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know what anything is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is a candle, isn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo; he asked, picking one up. He put it into one of the wax-covered candle holders and lit it from the main candle. Immediately, something began pulling him down the third aisle to the right. \u0026ldquo;This is wicked! There\u0026rsquo;s something for me down that way.\u0026rdquo; As he followed the pull, the candle\u0026rsquo;s flame flickered and became a light shade of blue. It darkened as he walked and the pull got stronger.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe shelves around him held no limit of mysterious objects. He saw small statues of gold and crystal, a rusty abacus, a jar of swirling fog, and a carousel that could fit into the palm of his hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe stopped at this one and held the candle to it, trying to appreciate the fine details of the tiny horses, but the closer the flame got to the carousel, the darker the flame got, until it was casting darkness instead of light and he could no longer see anything on the shelf.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was just looking,\u0026rdquo; he muttered to the candle. \u0026ldquo;Can\u0026rsquo;t a bloke look?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen he backed away from the forbidden shelves, the candle flared its blue flame again, and he followed the pull around another corner.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked at the aisle in front of him and stopped short.\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Uh-oh.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomething made of black glass had shattered in the middle of the floor, leaving debris and a diaphanous substance strewn around. Something had scattered several items all over the floor in its furious birth from its glass prison. Some items, like a set of brass scales, looked dented or damaged, others looked normal.\u0026nbsp;Of course there was no way of knowing if they\u0026rsquo;d been dented to begin with, he realized.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey, team, something got out,\u0026rdquo; he called. \u0026ldquo;Watch out for\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; He peered closer at the floor. \u0026ldquo;Something. I dunno. A beastie of some sort.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not very descriptive,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said from the next aisle over.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well I don\u0026rsquo;t know, I only see where it\u0026rsquo;s been, not where it is now. But something broke free of a glass case and wreaked havoc on the stuff on these shelves\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; He stopped. He had spotted something.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam forgot about Mench\u0026uacute; and whatever had broken the glass. Sitting beyond the mess, on the second shelf from the floor, was a plain longsword, its blade burned black. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what I\u0026rsquo;m talking about!\u0026rdquo; he shouted, and jumped over the debris to get to the sword. But the closer he got, the more the pull lessened, and the flame began to dim again. After a few steps he had to admit that every step toward the sword was a step away from the pull of the candle. He reached for the sword regardless, but a hand caught his wrist.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think you should be picking up anything that\u0026rsquo;s not yours,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;The vault has protections, remember?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How do you know it\u0026rsquo;s not mine?\u0026rdquo; he asked, ignoring his own blackened candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe held up her own lit candle, which glowed bright blue. \u0026ldquo;Because it\u0026rsquo;s mine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shit,\u0026rdquo; he said, and watched her pick it up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe stood for a moment, waiting to see if the sword came to life to recognize its mistress. Nothing happened. She wasn\u0026rsquo;t made queen of the land, and the blade didn\u0026rsquo;t glow magnificently. No flame, either.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You sure you\u0026rsquo;re doing it right?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How many ways can you pick up a sword?\u0026rdquo; she asked, irritation coloring her voice.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Must be a dud,\u0026rdquo; he said, but turned to hide his own disappointment.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, the lawyer didn\u0026rsquo;t say we should expect the stuff to be magical, just because the Maitresse was a magical being,\u0026rdquo; she reminded him.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe didn\u0026rsquo;t care. A plain sword was better than no sword at all. His candle flickered and pulled again, and he trudged back around the glass debris and crouched down. His prize was on the bottom shelf, one of the few things that hadn\u0026rsquo;t been knocked off by the escape of the beastie.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh. Oh, no,\u0026rdquo; he said, looking at the item glowing in the blue light. This was very obviously for him. \u003cem\u003eGoddammit. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA tarnished, percolating coffee pot from the 1950s sat on one side, and an LP of a Beatles album that he was pretty sure didn\u0026rsquo;t exist in the non-magical world sat on the other. Between them was a small plant in a little planter. The dirt was slightly damp, as if it had been watered this morning. The planter was a simple brown terra-cotta pot, darkened from the moisture in the dirt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe reached out and wrapped his hand around the pot, and it thrummed under his hand. The way the sword was supposed to have done. \u0026ldquo;Dammit,\u0026rdquo; he whispered.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe plant itself looked carnivorous, with a mouth-like pod nestled among purple, spiky leaves.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh. That looks like a cutting from that plant that ate you that time,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, looking over his shoulder. \u0026ldquo;Is that what she left you?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam hunched his head. \u0026ldquo;Yeah.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s rough,\u0026rdquo; she said. She raised her voice for the others and said, \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t expect too much. Liam and I essentially got gag gifts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I am not taking this,\u0026rdquo; he said, putting it back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, you have to take it,\u0026rdquo; said a voice, and he jumped. The lawyer, Daylen, was behind him with her briefcase. \u0026ldquo;Once you touch the item bequeathed to you, you\u0026rsquo;re bound to remove it from the vault.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well I\u0026rsquo;m tossing it as soon as I get home.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe shrugged. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s your call. But you can\u0026rsquo;t leave it here.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What would happen if I did?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe smiled. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. Why don\u0026rsquo;t you find out?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam swore under his breath and turned away from her. \u0026ldquo;Never mind.\u0026rdquo; He looked at Sal\u0026rsquo;s sword, still burned black. \u0026ldquo;Why did you say yours was a gag gift?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe shrugged. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s clearly not magical. If it was blessed before, it\u0026rsquo;s been drained.\u0026rdquo; She pointed to the black blade. \u0026ldquo;I got a dangerous hunk of steel.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This day just keeps getting better and better,\u0026rdquo; he said. He looked down at the plant and sighed. \u0026ldquo;Come on, Bronagh, let\u0026rsquo;s go wait for everyone else to keep shopping.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked sideways at him. \u0026ldquo;Bronagh?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Means \u0026lsquo;sorrowful.\u0026rsquo; Like how I feel getting a bloody plant when you get a sword.\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You should give it the middle name of Envy, then,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Bronagh Envy has a nice ring, don\u0026rsquo;t you think?\u0026rdquo;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe glared at her. He was about to give her what he was sure would have been a scathing reply, but thought he felt the plant shift in his hand.\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hold up, can someone\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; He never got to finish his comment, because across the vault, someone was screaming.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace\u0026rsquo;s gift had been a glass vial of water. She found it lying on a shelf of corked vials, some full of red liquid, some blue, one of them a golden, viscous goo, and some apparently empty. Her own had, by viscosity and lack of color, been only water. She carefully chose it out of the haphazard jumble of chemistry set cast-offs, pocketed it, and turned to see what the others were doing. Not needing it anymore, she blew out the candle (which always felt like an odd thing to do, probably a lot like someone normal poking numbed skin with a pin and expecting pain, but receiving none).\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe vial felt heavy in her pocket. She didn\u0026rsquo;t care to receive anything from the Maitresse, but didn\u0026rsquo;t care to set off any alarms by not accepting the gift, either. \u003cem\u003eJust get it, take it home, and throw it away. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTerse voices drifted down the next aisle over. She jogged silently toward them and peeked through some shelves to see two people. A short white woman stood there, furiously clutching her forearm as a similarly featured man in a brown overcoat laughed at her. Her white blouse was ripped, and blood ran over her hand and dripped onto the floor, where it soaked into the wood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So are we going to try my way now?\u0026rdquo; the man said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ll be lucky if that monster you released attacks anyone else. I think it slipped into the ceiling. It\u0026rsquo;s probably going to set up house there and not bother anyone again. You should have freed it more effectively. You\u0026rsquo;re going to have to have that looked at. Spiders are venomous.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman was clearly his sister, possibly a twin. She frowned at him, her dimples disappearing. \u0026ldquo;He didn\u0026rsquo;t say it would be like this. He said it would be easy.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If it were easy, then why didn\u0026rsquo;t he do it himself?\u0026rdquo; the man asked, fingering a dusty wine bottle on a shelf. \u0026ldquo;I wonder what\u0026rsquo;s in here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just carry out your plan, big shot, and let\u0026rsquo;s get out of here,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;This really hurts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll take as much time as necessary. This has to be done correctly. You do realize what he\u0026rsquo;s paying us, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace took a step back. She needed to get the others, but she also needed to see what these two were up to. Were they targeting the team? Or were they simply grave-robbing the Maitresse? She couldn\u0026rsquo;t care less if someone was looting the old woman\u0026rsquo;s tomb; there had been no love lost on Grace\u0026rsquo;s part since she had been a stone statue in the woman\u0026rsquo;s fountain. Even before then. But if these people posed a threat to her group, then she should intervene.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe paused as the memory of the fountain came back to her. Oh. So \u003cem\u003ethat \u003c/em\u003ewas where the water in her pocket came from. That damned fountain that had ensnared her until Sal and Asanti had convinced the Maitresse to free her. Revulsion crawled over her skin, but she focused on the siblings in the next aisle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was a fast spell, faster than she had ever seen Asanti perform. The man raised his hands and began to speak. After the first word, the floor underneath the woman became uneven, small waves forming as if the wood had turned to water. She stumbled and then fell to her knees. The man spoke a second word that made Grace\u0026rsquo;s teeth hurt, and a gap opened between waves\u0026mdash;but they weren\u0026rsquo;t waves. \u003cem\u003eJesus, they\u0026rsquo;re lips\u0026mdash;\u003c/em\u003eand the woman tumbled halfway in. She let go of her injured arm and scrabbled at the floor, searching for something to grab.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe man spoke a third word and the mouth closed with a clap, stopping the woman\u0026rsquo;s shrieks abruptly. She fell back like a rag doll, her face still contorted with pain and fear. A tongue snaked out of the lips, wrapped around her, and pulled her in.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s making sure I get the inheritance that was supposed to go to the firstborn,\u0026rdquo; the man said, as if continuing their conversation. \u0026ldquo;Which by an accident of chance turned out to be you, by a mere two minutes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAfter swallowing, the mouth in the floor appeared again, working wordlessly, as if trying to speak through plastic wrap. The man took a step back. \u0026ldquo;Not yet,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Soon. Be patient and you\u0026rsquo;ll feed again, quite well. Very soon, in fact.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe smiled at the floor, where there remained no sign of his twin. He pulled the bottle of wine off the shelf and slipped it into his overcoat pocket. \u0026ldquo;Shame to waste it,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Considering the heir has been eaten.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe vault shuddered slightly, but showed no other security mechanism as the man opened a golden tear and stepped through.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the floor, the mouth settled back into the wood grain.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace burned two minutes in her haste to find Sal and Mench\u0026uacute;, and then turned on the speed again when Asanti gave a strangled yell.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had walked through the vault, her fingers trailing over the items, thinking of her old friend. Emotions flowed\u0026mdash;grief, guilt, regret, anger\u0026mdash;all the feelings one has when a loved one dies. She didn\u0026rsquo;t follow her candle at first; she wanted the vault to give her one last feeling of being completely with the Maitresse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer wanderings took her to Arturo, gingerly opening a flat, plain white box. He pulled out a wooden cross. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t a crucifix, nor did it have the ornate designs of a Celtic cross or any of the tacky crap they had in the Vatican. This one was simply a cross: short bar across a longer bar. It hung on a leather cord.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; smiled slightly and put it back into the box, which he slipped into his pocket. Asanti left him to his private moment and wandered on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomeone started screaming, but Asanti didn\u0026rsquo;t recognize the voice. Her compassion for strangers misbehaving in a sacred space was at an all-time low, and she stayed put.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe came across Sal and Liam arguing, or, more accurately, Liam pouting while Sal needled him. \u003cem\u003eChildren\u003c/em\u003e, she thought, disgusted. Unfortunately her candle was drawing her directly to the mess in the center of the aisle they had just vacated.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What did this used to be?\u0026rdquo; she asked. She bent and pulled some of the diaphanous substance off a broken piece of glass.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was hers, no question there, but what was it? What had it been? An envelope lay under the debris. It had her name on it, but it was empty. She spied a damp, chewed piece of paper ahead of her, and bent to get it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer present arrived then, coming in the form of eight legs descending onto her head. Fangs sank into the back of her neck.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is going on?\u0026rdquo; Sal yelled as Grace ran toward her, and then veered away. Only then did Sal realize Asanti was shouting. She and Liam followed Grace, meeting Mench\u0026uacute; along the way.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Someone is setting traps in the vault, and I think Asanti found the first one,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, as Asanti\u0026rsquo;s shouting stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAhead of them, she dangled from the ceiling, a silky thread holding her entire weight. She appeared unconscious as a spider the size of a corgi danced around her, spinning a cocoon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Get her down from there!\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; shouted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;ll fall,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace glowered at him. \u0026ldquo;Yes. She will. And we\u0026rsquo;ll catch her, moron.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked annoyed but wouldn\u0026rsquo;t meet her eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Quickly, Grace!\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; cried. Above them, the spider worked with horrific speed, encasing their archivist. She was almost completely enshrouded now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal realized she was still holding the blackened sword. She handed it to Grace, hilt first. \u0026ldquo;Throw it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pain on the back of her neck was hot and instant, and then it was gone. Asanti found herself walking in a dark place. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t a frightening dark, but the dark of a night when you would sneak out of the house to spend time with a lover. It was a friendly dark.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Old friend, I\u0026rsquo;m sorry you have to hear this,\u0026rdquo; the Maitresse said. She appeared a moment later in front of Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you real?\u0026rdquo; she asked, clenching her fists against the swell of emotion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;As real as your memory of me. If you\u0026rsquo;re seeing this, I assume I\u0026rsquo;m dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is something I wanted to give you when I was alive, but you were too busy working with the Vatican to accept it properly. I had hoped that after you left them, you could accept it, but I wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure. And now it\u0026rsquo;s too late, so you have to take it. It\u0026rsquo;s the law of the vault.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You gave me death by giant spider?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse looked sad. \u0026ldquo;Nothing powerful is ever easy, Asanti. If I were to put great magical knowledge into a little flower, it would grow into a massive carnivorous plant. If I locked it in a kitten, you\u0026rsquo;d get a lioness. This is magic that is yours by right. You can learn it. You can control it. You can master it. It\u0026rsquo;s just not very fun to take in, that\u0026rsquo;s all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So I\u0026rsquo;m not dying?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer old friend smiled. \u0026ldquo;I was inscrutable and sometimes cruel to my enemies, but when did I ever harm you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti could think of a few times, actually, but that was old smoke from a dead fire, lingering in a chimney. And she didn\u0026rsquo;t think an argument with a memory projection would lead to a satisfying end.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what do I do?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Rest. The venom will do its work. The spider will free you when it\u0026rsquo;s done.\u0026rdquo; Her forehead creased. \u0026ldquo;Did you not read the card I left?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No. It looked like someone had broken the spider\u0026rsquo;s cage and destroyed everything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you really did think a spider was attacking you. I\u0026rsquo;m so sorry,\u0026rdquo; The Maitresse said with uncharacteristic regret.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s all right, I understand now,\u0026rdquo; Asanti reassured her. \u0026ldquo;And thank you for my gift.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse looked sad. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t understand, my dear. If you thought you were being attacked by a real monster, then your friends did too. It\u0026rsquo;s not\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. comforting\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. to watch these creatures imbue their knowledge. It\u0026rsquo;s very likely that\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; She disappeared.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti became instantly aware of her body, the pain in her neck, the tight cocoon, and the inability to breathe. She thrashed and pitched, and then fell.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nice throw!\u0026rdquo; Liam whooped as Grace impaled the spider on the tip of Sal\u0026rsquo;s sword. It squealed and clattered to the floor, oozing green and purple around the blade.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti began to move in her cocoon, and Mench\u0026uacute; shouted to get her down. Sal grabbed the sword, shook the spider off with disgust, and then handed it to Grace again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace threw it again, neatly severing the strand that held Asanti\u0026rsquo;s cocoon. Asanti fell, and Grace positioned herself to catch her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti landed in her arms, thrashing, and Grace stumbled backward and then down with Asanti on top of her. She rolled out from under the cocoon and then Mench\u0026uacute; was there, carefully slicing through the silk with a small knife. Once her face was free, Asanti took in a deep breath, focused on his face, and spat in it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Arturo! Damn you!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBack at the school, Asanti stalked to the girls\u0026rsquo; locker room to shower the rest of the spider web and venom off her. Grace had wanted to dress the wounds on her neck, but Asanti wouldn\u0026rsquo;t allow anyone to touch her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were large wounds, the width of pencils, and deep. But she didn\u0026rsquo;t bleed; they only oozed purple ichor mixed with strands of blood. They should have bled a lot more.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhile still in the vault, the baffled team had been able to get Asanti to explain at least a little bit about why she was so royally pissed, but then she opened the portal and they were home.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How the hell were we supposed to know that the spider was a\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;Liam searched for the right words\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;magic encyclopedia injection? We did what we always do. I don\u0026rsquo;t see how that makes us the bad guys here. The bad guys were those people who set the damn thing loose in the first place!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If she had received the gift as intended, then she would have known what was going on. And so would we,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said thoughtfully.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal was cleaning her blade with oil. She had managed to get all the spider guts and webbing off it, but the blade was still black. \u0026ldquo;What did you say those twins said, Grace?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They were clearly there on behalf of someone else. It sounded as if the woman had wanted to sabotage the spider\u0026rsquo;s container and got a bite for her troubles\u0026mdash;a real bite, not the knowledge kind of bite that Asanti got\u0026mdash;and her brother sacrificed her to the vault to set a different kind of trap. Less immediately dangerous, I suppose.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Less dangerous for him,\u0026rdquo; Liam amended.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They were hired to be there, but I think they were heirs too. The guy took his sister\u0026rsquo;s inheritance, an old bottle, once she was dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Norse,\u0026rdquo; Sal said quietly. \u0026ldquo;He would know Asanti was an heir. He found some unscrupulous heirs and hired them to set traps for us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe mouth in the floor had still been opening and closing, seeking out another meal. Grace had pointed it out to them, told them to stay back, and then grabbed the lips closed with one hand and punched the hell out of it with the other. It had squirmed and moaned and then disappeared, fading back into the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePunching. The easiest way to solve problems, in her opinion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut the team had been tricked into destroying Asanti\u0026rsquo;s gift. She gave the team the basic information on what the spider had been, and then clammed up, but Mench\u0026uacute; had pulled her aside and had a low conversation with her. She grudgingly nodded, and he let her go, conflict clouding his face. Grace had a bad feeling about what that meant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Norse knows we\u0026rsquo;re onto him,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Liam, try to figure out who those wonder twins are. See if you can find any info on twins who traveled in magical circles. There won\u0026rsquo;t be an obit yet, but there might be rumors. Find out if they have allies or connections.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam nodded. \u0026ldquo;Got it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going to talk to Asanti,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Good work, everyone.\u0026rdquo; Then he bit his lips as if he regretted speaking, and exited the room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think she got any of that knowledge she mentioned?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked as she and Sal walked slowly back to the trigonometry room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;ll tell us when she cools down,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;In the meantime, what did the Maitresse leave you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Bottle of water,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I haven\u0026rsquo;t touched it since we got back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Probably safe,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, nodding. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think I\u0026rsquo;ll be using that sword much. Feels too tainted.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam would be happy to take it off your hands,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Take what?\u0026rdquo; he asked, coming out of the calculus room, where he slept.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My sword,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, pointing to her blanket-wrapped parcel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, would have been nice. But hey\u0026mdash;I may have news on the twins. There\u0026rsquo;s a family that\u0026rsquo;s all flashy with new magic, and they\u0026rsquo;ve been bragging about their powerful twins, Rocky and Minerva Peterson. They\u0026rsquo;re eager to get influence wherever they can, and have been connected to a lot of groups, usually renting themselves out as toadies and hired magical muscle. They\u0026rsquo;re twin mercenaries.\u0026rdquo; He grinned, a mean glint to his eyes. \u0026ldquo;I hacked into some private discussions on them. There are some muckety-mucks who focus their power through family ties. So good old Rocky\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just bit his nose off to spite his face,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;With his sister gone, he won\u0026rsquo;t be as strong. I guess it\u0026rsquo;s good to know we won\u0026rsquo;t have to worry about them anymore.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How many powerful people were they connected to?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Lots. Norse; some people in America, Poland, Sweden, Iceland. I recognized several names.\u0026rdquo; He handed Sal a piece of paper.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;At least we got a lead, if flimsy,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, studying it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s something. Good work, boss,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, grinning.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled weakly and followed Grace inside. Her head still throbbed with the poem that had hit it, and she wanted to sleep for a week.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003chr\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti entered the library, annoyed to find Arturo there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know it\u0026rsquo;s not our fault,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Someone sabotaged your gift before we even got there.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know,\u0026rdquo; she said. She put the book she had been carrying down on the desk and joined him on the couch. \u0026ldquo;But I was so close.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What did she leave you? I need the details, Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was quiet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We agreed, no secrets, no lies,\u0026rdquo; he prompted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe sighed and closed her eyes. \u0026ldquo;She left me knowledge, Arturo. She left me magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe was silent for a moment. She didn\u0026rsquo;t open her eyes to see his expression. Then he said, \u0026ldquo;Did you retain any of it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti opened her eyes and glanced at the book. It was black leather with silver etchings depicting a large tree with a vine-like border around the edges. The others told her she had been clutching it when she had emerged from the cocoon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I think I know a way to open\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. doors. Not literal locks, but doors from here,\u0026rdquo; she pointed to the room they were in, \u0026ldquo;to there.\u0026rdquo; She waved her hand vaguely, indicating the rest of the world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Teleportation?\u0026rdquo; he asked, frowning. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not secret knowledge. Many people know how to do that, as I understand it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; she said slowly. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think it\u0026rsquo;s a door through this world. I think it\u0026rsquo;s a door from here to\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;she paused, thinking\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;wherever the demons, and any magical beings, come from.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s face grew somber. \u0026ldquo;I very much hope you never open a door like that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;From what I understand, it\u0026rsquo;s highly dangerous even when you have all the information, which I don\u0026rsquo;t,\u0026rdquo; she admitted. \u0026ldquo;I won\u0026rsquo;t be trying it any time soon.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Please tell me you won\u0026rsquo;t be trying it at all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe thought about their pledge to stay honest with each other. She thought about the venom still burning in her neck, and the secrets it was still releasing inside her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe met his eyes. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t do that. You want my honesty, I\u0026rsquo;m giving it to you. If a situation arises where this knowledge is all that stands between us and the darkness, I\u0026rsquo;m using it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis face darkened in anger, and he opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Then he deflated a bit and frowned, his eyes downcast.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So be it,\u0026rdquo; he said, and got up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe watched him go in silence, wanting to call him back, but knowing there was nothing for them to say.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eHe can\u0026rsquo;t give me orders anymore. \u003c/em\u003eThe thought hit her like a train. Arturo wasn\u0026rsquo;t in charge, and he knew it. Sal was their leader now. He could advise, and would definitely give his opinions on things, but he couldn\u0026rsquo;t tell her what to do.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSimultaneously, she felt elated at the freedom for herself, and sorrow for her friend, who was hurting because of what he had lost. But the freedom\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe elation won out, and Asanti reached for the silver-etched book with new energy. As the venom continued to seep into her system, more and more words appeared upon the page in front of her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003ePortals.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\nAsanti and Father Menchú dealt with friction in their friendship due to their differing views on the use of magic. Grace and Sal acknowledged their feelings for each other. At an unusual gathering of the Market Arcanum, the Maitresse was killed in front of a crowd of people by Alexander Norse, whom the Bookburners thought they’d defeated long ago. \n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum.\u003c/p\u003e \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAlexander Norse\u003c/strong\u003e: An old enemy of the Bookburners\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Mur Lafferty\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.245","slug":"Bookburners-s4e02","audio":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/audio/season4/BBS4E02.mp3","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E02.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E02.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E02.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 2"},{"id":"5ad4aeab2eb6130001347de8","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":3,"title":"Alexander Norse","released_date":"2018-06-27T11:26:51.212+00:00","released":true,"strapline":"On the trail of a murderer, the team races to stop him from killing again.","byline":"Margaret Dunlap","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E03.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/dividers/bookburners_episode1_divider.png","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-06-27","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLydia\u0026rsquo;s eyes stung beneath her lashes, even as she squeezed them shut against the greasy layer of concealer and cold cream that slid off her skin and swirled like milk-drowned coffee into the shower drain, carrying the tension of her day in disguise along with it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe first day back to the mundane world was always hard, but this\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. While Lydia was no stranger to death, no Sister of the Forest could be, there was a difference between death\u0026mdash;clean, sharp, and cold\u0026mdash;and hot, wet murder. One carried the sharpness and clarity of pine and snow, of blue skies and the cry of the hawk at dusk. The slaughter of the Maitresse brought with it only the stench of copper and filth. Even now the odor of rot seemed to rise on the steam around her as the grisly scene returned to her mind, and Lydia scrubbed at the tinted chemicals concealing her true skin a little harder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe wolf that lay across her back\u0026mdash;the Companion even most mages assumed was an elaborate tattoo\u0026mdash;whined and nipped at her neck. She forced herself to be calm again. She whispered soothing words to it, sluicing warm water over its face, and felt the wolf subside, wriggling across her skin, content to roll and stretch in the beautiful woods her sisters had made for it, had carved with blood and paint into her flesh.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe water in the drain ran clear, and Lydia\u0026rsquo;s heart settled. It always did when she could shed the masks, the concessions to modern corporate culture and ancient fears that they were only a bad winter and a whispered rumor away from a crowd of ravenous eyes and empty bellies erecting stakes and bonfires at the foot of London Bridge. It had been two hundred years since the last Sister had burned, but Lydia could still scent the memory of her ashes on the wind. The water cooled and Lydia turned off the taps.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAlone in her living room, Lydia turned her dinner\u0026mdash;a piece of rabbit\u0026mdash;over the fire. It was an indulgence to take the time to cook this way, when she could use the modern magic of radiation and machines to prepare a manufactured meal to satisfy her hunger in a matter of moments. But while she might be required to spend her days working in a glass and steel cage, manipulating the runes of international finance to provide for her Brothers in the woods, she too had needs beyond the gross and physical. The ritual of licking fire and spitting fat helped her feel less alone, and as the light from the window faded, Lydia could almost imagine the shadowed faces of her absent Sisters on the other side of the flames. She waited for the fire to do its work and sang to her Companion in the Old Tongue. They watched the flames together and she nurtured the tiny spark of home that nestled in her breast.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Maitresse, for all that she had not been of the blood, had been right about one thing. The world was forever altered since the events of London. The masses might still be ignorant of much of the hidden world, but the veil was shredding before their eyes. Eventually, the true nature of magic would be revealed to everyone, and those who had lived in ignorance would need the experience of the ones who had not left the old paths. The Brothers would be able to walk out of the Forest without fear, and if that were possible\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. maybe Lydia would be allowed to return home.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBoth Lydia and her Companion were watching the fire, devouring the fragrant sizzling hare with hungry eyes and ears in anticipation of the joy for fingers and tongue to come. And so neither saw the man who slipped into her house, silent as a shadow. Nor did they notice his sword until it entered Lydia\u0026rsquo;s back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe blade pierced her Companion first, and it was its snarl of anger and pain that gave Lydia an instant\u0026rsquo;s warning before the steel pushed all the way through her skin to reach the flesh beneath. It was only an instant, but in it, Lydia seized the flames before her and snatched them from the grate.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe felt a shadow bloom in the blade\u0026rsquo;s wake, ripping through lungs and heart like roots through rock, if roots moved with the speed of an ibex over hard snow. Even as she screamed, Lydia staggered to her feet, turned, and flung the flames before her: a shield, a sword, a light against the darkness tearing her apart from the inside out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was dying, and with her last breath she set her Companion free: \u003cem\u003eRun. Leave me. Warn the others.\u003c/em\u003e She could hear its roar through the ringing in her ears. The last thing she saw was gray fur, and the face of a man with hollowed cheeks and shadowed eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen there was nothing but the dark.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAlexander. Mr. Norse. Mr. Alexander Norse.\u003c/em\u003e He repeated the name in his mind, a mantra as he searched the house, heedless of the blood smeared by his shoes over the floor. There had been a time when he would have been appalled at the mere thought of bloodstains on his hand-stitched leather oxfords, individually crafted to his exact measurements by a blind cobbler who lived like a prince off clients who might order two pairs of shoes in a lifetime. But those days were from a past distant in mind, if not in years. Time was such a pliant and malleable thing, when you knew its nature. Joy could burst a moment in an instant, sending it into the unrecoverable past. Pain and terror were the bedrock of time; the seconds they touched endured forever.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe could not know how long the woman suffered. To his eye, she died quickly. For her, it could have been an eon of agony all contained in the moment she saw his face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhose face?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd he was\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA geologic age of loss and confusion passed while he had no name, no mission, no thought except for the feeling of hot breath against his neck, breath that came from a thing with no mouth and no name.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eName.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis name.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAlexander. Mr. Norse. Mr. Alexander Norse. Alexander. Mr. Norse. Mr. Alexander\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe familiar syllables came to him, as they always did, eventually. A faithful dog, returning to its master when all others had deserted him. In his relief, he paused, ignored the pricking at his heels that was always there, always prodding him forward in his mission. After\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. how long? A heartbeat? An hour? A year? The agony drove him to his knees. It only abated when he managed to crawl forward, resuming the search. He had a list. Items, people. He could not rest until everything on the list had been obtained.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the dim part of his mind that could still hope, Alex Norse looked forward to the time when the pain would stop. He wondered how long that moment would last.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stood in the back garden of the small house on the outskirts of the village. She forced herself to focus on the details in front of her, not the memory of what she had seen behind. They were still commuting distance from London, but the city felt a world away from these tiny streets and stone cottages. The thick lawn in front of her would have been the envy of the most house-proud of her parents\u0026rsquo; neighbors, but the trees and shrubs that dotted it were\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. unkempt, shaggy. \u003cem\u003eWild\u003c/em\u003e. Ringed by a high stone wall on three sides, the garden felt like a piece of wilderness. Sal took a deep breath and smelled pine, growing things, and blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you all right?\u0026rdquo; Grace was at her shoulder. No doubt concerned that their lead investigator was standing, unmoving, with her back to the crime scene. Sal was staring at the grass while her\u0026mdash;lover\u0026rsquo;s? girlfriend\u0026rsquo;s?\u0026mdash;while the life of the woman she loved was evaporating into a candle flame and burning away. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t afford to waste time. Neither of them could.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Yeah. I\u0026rsquo;m fine. Let\u0026rsquo;s go back in.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal resisted inhaling for as long as she could after entering the house, but the taste of copper and ash clung to the back of her throat anyway. Gradually, her mind stopped spinning out\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003eOh God, so much blood. Does one person even have that much blood?\u003c/em\u003e\u0026mdash;and Sal felt familiar habits falling into place. This was a crime scene. She was a detective. Had been, anyway. \u003cem\u003eThis is what you trained for\u003c/em\u003e, she reminded herself. \u003cem\u003eThe last three years have just been improvising\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePolice. Had they been notified yet? The street was quiet, but there was no way to know when the woman lying crumpled before the fireplace would be missed. Best to get the information they needed quickly and to leave as small a trace as possible. Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t have a crime lab. She didn\u0026rsquo;t have the resources of the Society. Still, if she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly. Out of habit, Sal reached for the jacket pocket where she had always kept her field notebook. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t there. The pocket wasn\u0026rsquo;t even there. Sal hadn\u0026rsquo;t worn a blazer in years. Okay then, she was going to do this as properly \u003cem\u003eas she could\u003c/em\u003e. Deep breath. Blood, smoke. Just like old times.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah?\u0026rdquo; Liam was behind her. They were all behind Sal. Waiting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can you get photos of the scene?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe heard the rustle of his phone coming out of his jacket. \u0026ldquo;On it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I assume you\u0026rsquo;ve run a search on the address?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Figured I should do something while you were standing around with your thumb up your arse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s called thinking. You should try it sometime.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just waiting for a role model.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal couldn\u0026rsquo;t stop the smile from creeping up her lips.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was less amused. \u0026ldquo;Are you two going to stand there cracking jokes, or are you going to investigate a murder? A \u003cem\u003esecond\u003c/em\u003e murder.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t know for sure that this is related to the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s death,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said gently.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti, \u0026ldquo;because it\u0026rsquo;s likely that members of the Market Arcanum are just being killed \u003cem\u003erandomly\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sighed. Asanti wanted a fight, and she didn\u0026rsquo;t have the energy to give her one. She had a job to do. \u0026ldquo;Hopefully, we can settle the question one way or the other.\u0026rdquo; She turned to Liam. \u0026ldquo;Do you know who the victim is?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Home owner listed as Lydia Shamah. She works, well, \u003cem\u003eworked\u003c/em\u003e at a financial firm in London. Not much social media presence. Just some photos from hiking in the mountains.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Any family? Boyfriend?\u0026rdquo; Maybe this was simple. An ordinary murder. Nothing to do with them. And if this was just a random crime, they were back to having zero leads in the search for Norse. The man who had killed the most powerful magician in Europe. The man who had probably killed again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Got a couple of pictures,\u0026rdquo; said Liam. \u0026ldquo;No names yet.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Okay, so that\u0026rsquo;s what the police will be working with. Any hints as to who she \u003cem\u003ereally\u003c/em\u003e was?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What, you don\u0026rsquo;t think that a nice banker can enjoy trips to the Alps?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think a nice banker owns magical artifacts that used to belong to the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo; \u003cem\u003eSpeaking of\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. \u003c/em\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti, any idea if what you pinged is still in the house?\u0026rdquo; They hadn\u0026rsquo;t come here looking for a crime scene, after all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti frowned and pushed her way up to\u0026mdash;and past\u0026mdash;Sal, still in the doorway. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll see what I can do.\u0026rdquo; Her feet skirted the edge of one of the many blood trails that covered the floor, the walls, and\u0026mdash;Sal looked up\u0026mdash;yes, spattered the ceiling.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t touch anything,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t want the police sniffing in our direction.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti remained silent, but her glare spoke volumes. Sal forbore from further comment. Asanti was the closest they had to a forensics team. If she wasn\u0026rsquo;t worried about leaving trace evidence, who was Sal to argue? Asanti drew out a bundle of green herbs from one pocket and a lighter from another, nurturing a flame from the latter to the former until the plants reached a thick smolder. Coaxing the smoke upward, Asanti whispered to it in a language that made Sal\u0026rsquo;s ears itch. From the way Liam was shifting behind her, hers weren\u0026rsquo;t the only ones. Slowly, the smoke coalesced into a thick gray snake that slithered down Asanti\u0026rsquo;s leg and across the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt moved aimlessly, exploring the area the way a real snake might, except that as it passed over the drying reddish-brown smears it left no trace of its passing. It slid into the next room, but quickly returned and curled up by Asanti\u0026rsquo;s ankles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s nothing here that once belonged to the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Guess the killer took it,\u0026rdquo; said Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So now Mr. Norse has not only killed again, he is also in possession of another powerful relic. And if we had been here sooner\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He could have killed us too,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. It was true, but didn\u0026rsquo;t make her feel any better. From the blood tracks, the killer had searched the scene thoroughly; it must have taken some time. Although, given the nature of their work, she supposed it wasn\u0026rsquo;t impossible that Lydia could have smeared her blood around herself, either before or after she died. Sal was working a crime scene like a cop, but that didn\u0026rsquo;t mean that she could forget everything she had learned in her time with the Society. Ruling out possibilities prematurely was how cases went unsolved, and how killers went free. Sal frowned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti, you said there\u0026rsquo;s nothing here that used to belong to the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo; Asanti\u0026rsquo;s tone was clipped with impatience, letting the \u003cem\u003eThat\u0026rsquo;s what I told you\u003c/em\u003e remain implied.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is there anything magical here\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. at all?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe killer had found and taken what he was looking for. He might not have taken everything there was to find. This time, when Asanti whispered to the smoke snake, her tones were harsh. Sal wondered if the snake could tell that Asanti was angry at herself, not it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe snake circled the room only once before sliding over to the largest pool of blood by Lydia\u0026rsquo;s body. The snake lifted itself like a cobra, hovered for a moment. It might have been examining its reflection, had the liquid still been reflective, and had the smoke snake had eyes. Instead, it lowered its head to the drying surface\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. and drank.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s going to put that back, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti did not deign to answer Sal\u0026rsquo;s question.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBy the time the blood was gone, the engorged snake could barely slither back to Asanti\u0026rsquo;s side. Where the blood had been there was now an image of a wild forest, so seamlessly stained into the boards it looked like an inlay. \u003cem\u003eNot that most people would want a picture of that on their floor\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought. The scene showed ancient pines on the side of a mountain, bisected by a stream that looked so real Sal could have sworn she could hear it rushing over the rocks. But none of that could distract from the wolf on the far bank, half-skinned and staked through the heart. A figure stood over it, sword raised to strike off the beast\u0026rsquo;s head. His face was turned, but the profile was enough to settle the question of the killer\u0026rsquo;s identity. The man on the floor was definitely Mr. Norse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAlexander. Mr. Norse. Mr. Alexander Norse\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe had shed the blood-covered shoes kilometers ago and not replaced them. Where he walked, half in and half out of the world, they were not necessary. He had left the item he had taken from the wolf-woman in a lead box, buried it in the middle of a Belgian cornfield. The relic was his master\u0026rsquo;s responsibility now. Norse could strike it from his list. So many superfluous things he had once clung to. Now he crossed a dense forest that grew colder with every upward step, carrying only his sword and his mission. The ground was soft, and the rich loam compressed soundlessly beneath his feet so long as he did not move too quickly. Alexander Norse was in no hurry. He had no need to run in pursuit of his prey. Running triggered an uncomfortable memory of plush carpets and dusty halls that led nowhere, of doors that would not open and windows that would not break. Of being chased. No one was chasing him. Not here. Not now. Never again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow he was the hunter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntoine\u0026rsquo;s breath smoked as he looked up into the star-spattered sky, the gray pelt over his back a reassuring weight and warmth. Even in high summer, the night air in the Alps was crisp and cool. Brothers of the Forest carried their wolves over their shoulders. Their sisters carried theirs inside their skins. He and his Brothers had felt Lydia leave the pack, and that awareness had drawn them together from their corners of the wild woods. As one, they shouted their grief to the full moon rising over snowy peaks.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe moon was high and bright overhead as Grace drove the van toward London. With every minute that passed, Asanti could sense Mr. Norse getting farther from her grasp. Not that she could literally sense him, of course. If she could, she would be able to follow that sense to the man himself. And make him pay for what he had done to the Maitresse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut no, all she had was the knowledge that Alexander Norse had now killed a second time and that they were still no closer to bringing him to justice. Sal, who was supposed to be in charge of this investigation, had no leads. Asanti saw no evidence that she was getting closer to finding one. Neither at the scene of the murder, nor now, as she sat in the passenger seat talking with Grace in low tones. Liam at least was working, buried in his laptop, not that Asanti thought the internet would provide useful clues.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We should discuss our next move,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. Louder than she needed to when the loudest sound in the car was the thrum of tires on pavement. Her voice shattered the easy calm of the van in an instant. \u003cem\u003eGood.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal half-turned in her seat. \u0026ldquo;We go back to London and continue the investigation,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you have evidence that Alexander Norse is in London?\u0026rdquo; Sarcasm dripped from the question, and Grace\u0026rsquo;s grip on the steering wheel tightened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s patience sounded strained. \u0026ldquo;We learned everything we could from the scene of the crime\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You mean the scene of the murder.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And now we\u0026rsquo;re going back to London so you can continue to do nothing and Mr. Norse can kill again? If you can\u0026rsquo;t find him, his victims are on your head.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam\u0026rsquo;s fingers stopped their constant clacking on his keyboard. The van held its breath. Sal said, very softly, \u0026ldquo;Believe me, I know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti opened her mouth to speak, but Mench\u0026uacute; cut her off. \u0026ldquo;Grace, I think I see a motorway services ahead. Why don\u0026rsquo;t you pull over?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs soon as the van stopped, Mench\u0026uacute; got out and walked over to the far side of the parking lot. Liam went inside to buy coffee. Sal and Grace stayed with the car. Asanti walked ahead of Mench\u0026uacute; to show that she wasn\u0026rsquo;t following him. When they reached the far corner, he stopped. Asanti waited for him to speak.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe didn\u0026rsquo;t.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not my supervisor,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Technically, you never were.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was there something you wanted to talk about?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Only if you do,\u0026rdquo; he replied.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;With every moment we delay, Mr. Norse gets closer to his next victim, or to disappearing forever. Sal is doing just fine wasting my time without any help from you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And you think talking to her the way you did in the van will help speed her progress?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Something has to! Honestly, Arturo, I don\u0026rsquo;t know why you put her in charge of this. She\u0026rsquo;s clearly out of her depth.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We need someone who can investigate a murder. Sal was a police detective for longer than she\u0026rsquo;s been with us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If Mr. Norse could be found by the police, we could have let the authorities in Liechtenstein track him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And you don\u0026rsquo;t think Sal can do better?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why do you have such faith in her abilities?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve worked with her for the last three years. Why do you have so little?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti gave a small snort. \u0026ldquo;Faith was always your department, Father.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis lips half-twisted in a smile that didn\u0026rsquo;t reach his eyes. \u0026ldquo;So it was. But this isn\u0026rsquo;t like you, Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ve never known me to suffer fools.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ve never considered the rest of us in that category.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti opened her mouth to object, then closed it. She didn\u0026rsquo;t feel like denying it. It felt close enough to true.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you really angry at Sal?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who else should I be angry with?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You tell me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Now you sound like a therapist.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shrugged. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been ousted from the Society. If they decide to evict me from the priesthood, I\u0026rsquo;ll need an alternative career. You were closer to the Maitresse than any of us. Closer to her than most people on this planet. If you don\u0026rsquo;t take the time to mourn, your grief will find you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I will mourn her once her murderer is found.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA pause. \u0026ldquo;Is it worse that it\u0026rsquo;s Norse?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti blinked in genuine surprise. \u0026ldquo;Why should it be worse? He didn\u0026rsquo;t make her more dead than another killer would have.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But we knew Norse. All of us thought he was gone for good. Asanti, it\u0026rsquo;s not your fault that he escaped.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRage and laughter warred in her chest. Asanti forced them both down with an effort of will. Fire was only constructive when contained within a hearth, or a forge. \u0026ldquo;I grieve for the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s passing,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I mourn her now, and I will for years to come. But do not mistake a lack of patience for a lack of rationality. A killer is at large and in possession of magical artifacts of terrifying power. I don\u0026rsquo;t pursue him to salve my conscience, I don\u0026rsquo;t even do so for vengeance. I\u0026rsquo;m trying to save the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe left Mench\u0026uacute; standing at the edge of the parking lot and returned to the van.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal leaned against the van, watching the cars speed by on the highway\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003emotorway\u003c/em\u003e here, she corrected herself. She ignored Mench\u0026uacute; and Asanti on the other side of the parking lot\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003ecar park\u003c/em\u003e. Grace hip-checked her gently. \u0026ldquo;You okay?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, I\u0026rsquo;m fine. Just thinking.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not true, you know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal frowned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What Asanti said about Norse\u0026rsquo;s victims being on your head if you can\u0026rsquo;t find him. They\u0026rsquo;re not. They\u0026rsquo;re on him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know. And I\u0026rsquo;ll probably blame myself anyway.\u0026rdquo; She shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Comes with the job.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then what are you so busy thinking about?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe outdoor lights threw strange shadows over her face as Sal frowned. \u0026ldquo;Just what we\u0026rsquo;re going to do with Norse when we catch him this time. I mean, apparently trapping him in a hell dimension isn\u0026rsquo;t enough to do the job.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Call Sansone? Let her make it Shah\u0026rsquo;s problem?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;From what I hear, Team One has enough problems.\u0026rdquo; While London was certainly the epicenter of the planet\u0026rsquo;s magical activity, nearly every day brought reports of a fresh hotspot somewhere. Sansone was on the news several times a week, and Shah and her team featured in a lot of action B-roll.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t have the resources of the Society anymore, and even if we did, I\u0026rsquo;m not sure they would be enough to keep him contained. Not indefinitely, anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace paused, then said, \u0026ldquo;Dead is forever.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have to at least consider it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We are not a murder squad! We find artifacts. Stop their effects and save innocent people. Full stop.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And we hide the secret of magic from the rest of the world? Like you said, we\u0026rsquo;re not with the Society anymore.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re still members of the human race. Technically, I\u0026rsquo;m still a member of the NYPD. And my badge number doesn\u0026rsquo;t start with a double-oh.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace smiled. \u0026ldquo;I enjoyed reading Fleming.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You realize he wrote fiction, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You realize we might not have another option.\u0026rdquo; Grace leaned over and pecked Sal on the cheek. \u0026ldquo;I actually find your lack of bloodlust one of your more endearing qualities.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s more than one?\u0026rdquo; Sal smiled, a real one this time, but even as she said it she was thinking of Norse. Picturing him standing over another victim. Locked in battle with Asanti. Threatening Grace. And if it came down to that moment, what could Sal do to stop him?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you want me to get a gun?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. \u0026ldquo;Just in case?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sighed. \u0026ldquo;Not yet, but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I\u0026rsquo;ll let you know,\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded and said nothing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam let the rest of the team have their space. If there was anything life in a large family taught you, it was how to let other people have their fights without putting yourself in the middle of them. He picked up snacks, enough for everyone\u0026mdash;nothing exacerbated tension like low blood sugar\u0026mdash;poured bad gas station coffee into the largest to-go cup he could find, and let his mind wander.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt wasn\u0026rsquo;t fair of Asanti to say that Sal was to blame if Norse kept killing. Liam was an expert in taking on other people\u0026rsquo;s guilt, and even he could see that Norse\u0026rsquo;s actions were solidly on him. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t like Lydia had hired them as her personal security. Maybe she should have. But no one had known that Norse was going to keep killing after the Maitresse. Now, though\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. for all they knew he was planning on cutting his way through the rest of the membership of the Market\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Shit.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam tossed a handful of bills and loose coins onto the counter by the register as he hurried out, calling, \u0026ldquo;Pay it forward, mate,\u0026rdquo; when the cashier asked him if he wanted his change.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe found Sal and Grace waiting by the van. Asanti and Mench\u0026uacute; approached from the edge of the parking lot.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know how we can find Norse, or at least make it harder for him to kill his next victim.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How?\u0026rdquo; Asanti demanded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We warn the members of the Market,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Anyone who doesn\u0026rsquo;t pick up their phone\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal finished the thought: \u0026ldquo;We go warn them in person and hope they aren\u0026rsquo;t already dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs Grace drove, the rest of the group divided the list of everyone they knew of from the Market Arcanum and started making calls. Sal drew the short straw and had to telephone Povel Engstr\u0026ouml;m, the douchebag Swede.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wondered if he could sense the epithet she had mentally tagged him with in her tone, or if he just had terrible phone manners.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh yes, I remember you. The Bookburner. Are you not dead yet?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eApparently, he wasn\u0026rsquo;t dead yet either, although Sal decided not to say that out loud. He was obnoxious, yes, but he had a powerful family, and it was usually better not to poke the owner of a homunculus bear. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m calling to let you know there\u0026rsquo;s been another murder.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sure there have been a lot of murders,\u0026rdquo; he said sweetly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOh good, not just a douchebag, but a \u003c/em\u003epatronizing\u003cem\u003e douchebag.\u003c/em\u003e \u0026ldquo;We have reason to believe that Mr. Norse killed another member of the Market Arcanum last night. A woman named Lydia\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good for him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026mdash;I beg your pardon?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She was one of those creepy women with the tattoos, wasn\u0026rsquo;t she? They\u0026rsquo;re almost as bad as the filthy wolf-pelt men. Market is better off without them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In any event, if Alexander Norse is killing members of the Market Arcanum, we advise you to take precautions for your own safety.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You advise we try not to get killed? Oh, thank you so much. Any other blindingly obvious advice to offer? Like: Exhale after you breathe in or your lungs will explode?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was hard to tell, but Sal was pretty sure she could hear music and raucous shouting in the background of the call. \u0026ldquo;Are you at a party?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s Tuesday night, where else would I be?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That really isn\u0026rsquo;t the safest\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel hung up before Sal could finish her sentence.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace caught her expression as Sal cut the connection. \u0026ldquo;He didn\u0026rsquo;t thank you for your concern?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Figures that Norse wouldn\u0026rsquo;t kill the annoying people first. But Povel may have been helpful in spite of himself.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How so?\u0026rdquo; asked Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He seemed to think Lydia was one of the women covered in tattoos who come to the Market every year.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Didn\u0026rsquo;t see any tattoos on the body,\u0026rdquo; said Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Sisters of the Forest,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Their tattoos, are\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Well, they never offered to let me examine them, but they were definitely magical. Hers might not have survived her death.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eSure, why not?\u003c/em\u003e Sal had seen weirder in the last three years. \u0026ldquo;What do we know about the Sisters of the Forest, other than the fact that they have tattoos and have some tie to the wolf-pelt men\u0026mdash;the Brothers?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not very much,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. \u0026ldquo;They keep to themselves, and they have no love for the Society.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman Sal and Grace had spoken to recently was a representative sample, then. Sal had never met any of the wolf-men, but she remembered the way their wolves\u0026rsquo; eyes had tracked her every move during that first visit to the Market. She had assumed it was because she was new, since they hadn\u0026rsquo;t seemed as interested when she returned. Of course, on subsequent visits, she hadn\u0026rsquo;t brought the Hand with her. \u003cem\u003eIf the wolves can sense demonic possession\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know,\u0026rdquo; said Sal, \u0026ldquo;if I were Norse, whatever I was after in the end, killing people who can tell on sight that I\u0026rsquo;m an evil demon skin-puppet would be a pretty important first step.\u0026rdquo; She turned to Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Do you think you could locate them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How would I do that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s eyes glittered. \u0026ldquo;If they\u0026rsquo;re Norse\u0026rsquo;s next victims, I\u0026rsquo;ll find a way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was still dark when they got back to London. Perry opened the gate, allowing Grace to ease the van into what had lately been the delivery entrance of the primary school. Asanti didn\u0026rsquo;t wait for them to stop before she opened the rear door.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Have you made any progress?\u0026rdquo; she asked him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry nodded. \u0026ldquo;Some. Come with me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEven though the others hadn\u0026rsquo;t explicitly been invited, Sal followed Asanti to the school library. Frances\u0026rsquo;s homemade Orb looked strange set against the backdrop of child-sized reading tables and construction-paper art taped to the windows. Sal\u0026rsquo;s heart leapt as Perry paused to give her an awkward one-armed hug in the doorway. There were moments he was so much like the brother she had always known it hurt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances was in her wheelchair, which put her closer to the tabletops than the rest of them and freed her tentacles to serve as\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. a dozen prehensile tails? She used one to pull out a tiny chair for Asanti while seamlessly manipulating the Orb with both hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances talked as Asanti settled herself. \u0026ldquo;Between Perry and Orb, we found a way to trace \u0026nbsp;the metaphysical connections that Lydia had with other people in the London area. We found nine with some kind of tie.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everything we found online pointed to her being a loner,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances spared her a glance, but a glance was all. \u0026ldquo;There are nearly thirteen million people in the greater metropolitan area and she had connections to fewer people than you can count on both hands. She was practically a hermit.\u0026rdquo; Frances continued her update for Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Of those nine, two appear to have been coworkers at her bank. One was a direct supervisor. The other was a coworker, although we\u0026rsquo;re not sure why he had a connection when no one else in her office did. My theory is workplace affair, but who knows?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about the other seven?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?!\u0026rdquo; That was Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why didn\u0026rsquo;t we find them before?\u0026rdquo; asked Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances shrugged. \u0026ldquo;We were looking for artifacts, not murder victims.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances turned a series of dials and the Orb projected a pattern of dots connected by glowing lines on the ceiling. Eight of the dots were deeply interconnected, the other two formed a triangle with the point in the center of the cluster, which Sal guessed represented Lydia.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Given that we could pick up on the metaphysical links at all postmortem,\u0026rdquo; Frances continued, \u0026ldquo;they must have been incredibly strong in life.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;More Sisters of the Forest?\u0026rdquo; asked Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances nodded. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s our theory.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If you can find people by their metaphysical connection, can you find Norse?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked. \u0026ldquo;Murderer and victim has to be a pretty intense tie.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances sighed. \u0026ldquo;I did try that, thank you. But we can\u0026rsquo;t trace Norse with the Orb. Either he\u0026rsquo;s deliberately shielded himself from us, or two years in a shadow dimension has altered him to the point that the Orb no longer recognizes him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Could he be carrying a demon?\u0026rdquo; asked Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Find him and bring him back here and I might be able to tell you. For now, it\u0026rsquo;s all guesswork.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal grimaced. Of all possible options for \u0026ldquo;what to do when we find Mr. Norse,\u0026rdquo; bringing him back to London so that Frances could play twenty questions wasn\u0026rsquo;t even on the table.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about the wolf-pelt men?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry answered, all Aaron in his diction. \u0026ldquo;The Brothers and Sisters of the Forest are descended from pagans who went underground when Catholicism took over the continent, then fled into the hills rather than be discovered and destroyed during the European witch hunts and French wars of religion. They still speak Old French, and the Brothers live isolated in the wilderness except when they attend the Market Arcanum or when they gather for seasonal fertility festivals.\u0026rdquo; He paused, and his voice altered slightly, taking on more of her brother\u0026rsquo;s tones. \u0026ldquo;I guess not all of those medieval accounts of pagan forest bacchanals were made up.\u0026rdquo; Perry had been addressing his remarks to his own reflection in the library window, but turned when he noticed the silence that had fallen over the room. \u0026ldquo;Sorry,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;That isn\u0026rsquo;t what you were asking, was it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Finding them has been tricky,\u0026rdquo; said Frances. \u0026ldquo;The Brothers don\u0026rsquo;t keep a fixed address, and they aren\u0026rsquo;t on any official records that I could find in France, Switzerland, or Austria.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam let out a low whistle. \u0026ldquo;Tough to be that far off the grid in Continental Europe. If there are no records, that means no hospitals, schools, bank accounts\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or it means they use their magical abilities to keep themselves hidden,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances turned to Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Using their ties to Lydia, I made some headway finding them, but I\u0026rsquo;m having trouble pinning down an exact location. I was hoping you could help me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti gave a sharp nod and cracked her knuckles. \u0026ldquo;Let me see what I can do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor a few glorious moments, he had no name. His mission and purpose consumed him completely, and the small boy who plagued him with his constant whimpering in the corner of his mind was gone. Everything was gone. Except for the hot blood on his hands and the cold snow beneath his feet. But eventually, as it always did, the blood cooled and he was left alone again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAlex. Alexander. Mr. Alexander Norse. Norse Alexander Mr. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe whining of the boy in his head grew louder. He forced his eyes open, forced himself to concentrate on the world outside himself. He was not in a house of endless corridors that led nowhere. Of rooms with vanishing doors and tormenting voices. His feet burned with the cold of the pristine white snow beneath them. He blinked. No, not pristine. Cobwebbed with red that even now leached and stained.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRed ran in rivulets from his hands. Spattering the snow, his pants, himself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis feet grew numb as they became accustomed to the cold. His breathing calmed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAlex. Alexander. Mr. Alexander Norse.\u003c/em\u003e For a moment, he was free of pain, and time stretched before him, calming and pure. He reveled in it, even as he knew his list was not yet complete. Soon, though. Soon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti, eyes locked on the intricate spinning of a pendulum she had hung from the Orb, rattled off a set of coordinates. Out of the corner of her eye, Sal could see Frances writing them down. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s somewhere in\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Her brows knit as she did the mental calculations.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Eastern Switzerland,\u0026rdquo; Liam supplied. \u0026ldquo;Not far from the Liechtenstein border.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How quickly can we get there?\u0026rdquo; asked Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam was already on his laptop. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s going to be a while. With no commercial flights out of London, we\u0026rsquo;d have to get to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti cut him off. \u0026ldquo;I can get us there in five minutes.\u0026rdquo; A pause. \u0026ldquo;Maybe less.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How?\u0026rdquo; asked Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been researching the book the Maitresse willed to me. I believe I can use it to open a portal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You want to take us across the continent with a magical portal?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked, voice dangerously flat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti nodded. Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t wait for Liam to continue his objection. \u0026ldquo;You \u003cem\u003ebelieve\u003c/em\u003e you can open a path?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I haven\u0026rsquo;t had a great deal of time for experimentation,\u0026rdquo; Asanti bit back. \u0026ldquo;But the theory is sound.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam made a skeptical noise. Sal could hardly blame him. On the other hand\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. if they didn\u0026rsquo;t get ahead of Norse now, how many more would die before they tracked him down again? Every moment they waited, their chance to locate him grew slimmer. She nodded to Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Do it.\u0026rdquo; She raised her voice to address the room at large. \u0026ldquo;Anyone who doesn\u0026rsquo;t want to take the risk, no one will blame you for staying here. You have five minutes to make up your mind.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam wished Sal hadn\u0026rsquo;t given him the choice. He was getting better with magic. Since he had to, now that it was everywhere. At least, he had thought he was. And then something like this happened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti chalked a circle on what had probably originally been a play yard, back when kids were allowed to play on concrete. Now it was just faded tetherball courts with sheared-off poles and a couple oil stains that had probably been left by the head\u0026rsquo;s car.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti stood in the center of the chalked circle and opened the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s book. Liam flinched, then chided himself for it. Sure, they had ended a lot of crises by closing books. That didn\u0026rsquo;t mean that all you had to do to start an apocalypse was open one. At least, you didn\u0026rsquo;t end the world by opening this one. This time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eInstead, Asanti began to chant. Because nothing made magic better than some bloody chanting. Liam told himself that he would draw the line at animal sacrifice. If Asanti pulled out a cat and a silver knife, he was out of there. Not that Liam was a huge fan of cats, but that was the point, wasn\u0026rsquo;t it? He was even against the sacrifice of animals he wasn\u0026rsquo;t all that fond of.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA silver dot appeared in the air in front of Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eMaybe it\u0026rsquo;s just a reflection\u003c/em\u003e, Liam told himself. \u003cem\u003eA glint from my watch, or the wing mirror of a passing car\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Nope, it\u0026rsquo;s not moving. And it\u0026rsquo;s getting bigger. Jesus, Mary, Joseph. It\u0026rsquo;s getting a lot bigger.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSoon, a disk the size and shape of a bank vault door was floating perpendicular to the concrete. Through it, he could see a snowy mountainside. \u0026ldquo;Where\u0026rsquo;s Norse?\u0026rdquo; asked Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti shot him a look. \u0026ldquo;This isn\u0026rsquo;t an exact science. I opened the portal as close as I could to the coordinates we got from the Orb.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This isn\u0026rsquo;t a science at all,\u0026rdquo; Liam muttered, but Sal was nodding as though this were all perfectly normal. Liam could feel cold mountain air pouring out of the portal and over his feet. The ground seemed softer now. Rubberized? Maybe this hadn\u0026rsquo;t been such a death trap of a play yard after all. He looked down. The concrete below the portal was\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. wavering. \u003cem\u003eThat\u0026rsquo;s not good\u003c/em\u003e, he thought. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t the only one who noticed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s happening to the ground?\u0026rdquo; asked Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve opened a rift in space to connect two locations separated by thousands of kilometers,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Best guess, that takes a lot of magical energy and it\u0026rsquo;s leaking.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s not keep it open, then,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. \u0026ldquo;Grace, take point. Asanti, I assume you\u0026rsquo;re going last?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was already stepping through the portal. Sal motioned for Mench\u0026uacute; to go next. Sal turned to Liam. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to go if you don\u0026rsquo;t want to.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam swallowed. Why wouldn\u0026rsquo;t she just tell him what to do? \u0026ldquo;Do you need me there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think you\u0026rsquo;d be useful.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam squared his shoulders. \u0026ldquo;Then I\u0026rsquo;ll come,\u0026rdquo; he said, hoping he sounded more assured than he felt. With one last glance to be sure that Sal was right behind him, Liam took a deep breath, and stepped through.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe air was cold, and the snow crunched beneath his boots. There was no other sense of transition or travel. One step he was in London. The next, the Swiss Alps, ears popping painfully with the sudden change in altitude. If something had changed or altered him in the journey from one to the other, he had no sense of it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam could see the footprints that showed where Grace and Mench\u0026uacute; had preceded him. Looked like they\u0026rsquo;d headed up the slope and over a small rise. \u003cem\u003eOkay\u003c/em\u003e, he told himself,\u003cem\u003e that\u0026rsquo;s the hard part over with.\u003c/em\u003e Now the job was simple. Find the Brothers of the Forest; set an ambush for Mr. Norse when he came to kill them. Liam managed to believe that right up until the moment he crested the hill and got his first look at the other side.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe mountainside was a slaughter. Gouts of blood flowed over the snow, sprayed tree trunks. Something in Sal\u0026rsquo;s gut twisted. They were too late again. Too late by moments.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe air was filled with the stench of blood, even worse than it had been at Lydia\u0026rsquo;s house, which shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have been possible, given that here they were outdoors. But here there was so much more of it. A dozen bodies lay in pieces on the snow. A dozen wolf skins torn and flung upon the ground. What had happened to Lydia was horrifying. This took that horror and obliterated it in a wave of blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was at her elbow. \u0026ldquo;Do you want me to get a gun now?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal did not hesitate. \u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace held her eyes for a moment, searching for something, and seemed satisfied by what she found. \u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; she said. The warmth of her hand in Sal\u0026rsquo;s palm lingered after Grace was gone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shoved her hand into her pocket and forced herself to focus on the present. There was no sign of Mr. Norse. The Brothers had been alive when Asanti had used the Orb to find them. It had taken a little more than Asanti\u0026rsquo;s promised five minutes to complete the spell that brought them here, but it hadn\u0026rsquo;t been more than half an hour. The blood from the bodies still steamed in the snow. How had Norse killed a dozen men and then vanished so quickly?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal huffed a laugh. They had just portaled from London to Switzerland in an eyeblink. Norse could be anywhere in the world by now, and she was no closer to finding justice for his victims. \u003cem\u003eMaybe Asanti was right\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAbove Sal\u0026rsquo;s head, a branch cracked and a pile of snow fell to the ground. Reflexively, she looked up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRight into the snarling face of Alexander Norse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam tried to tell himself that everything happened too quickly for him to react, but it was a lie. He saw everything with the horrible clarity of a car accident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Norse flung himself from the tree, caught Sal by the jacket, and threw her backward, sending her skidding through blood-covered snow. Mench\u0026uacute; ran at the wizard and Norse tossed him off with no more thought or effort than he might use to fling a coat onto a sofa. Asanti was chanting, which Liam was willing to put in the good column this time around because it meant she was doing something, but also bad, because it meant she wasn\u0026rsquo;t finished yet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam knew \u003cem\u003ehe\u003c/em\u003e should do something, but his mind was blank. They hadn\u0026rsquo;t known what they would find here. They hadn\u0026rsquo;t had time to make a plan. He had lived by the grace of his routines for years, and now he had nothing. Sal was picking herself up, slowly. Too slowly. Mench\u0026uacute; still lay motionless in the snow. Mr. Norse had drawn his sword and was advancing toward Asanti. \u003cem\u003eFuck.\u003c/em\u003e He had to do something. Stop Norse. Help Sal. Check on Father Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stood, frozen with indecision. Where the hell had Grace gone off to?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMiles away, Grace burned until she found a small village tucked into the cleft of the hills carved by a swiftly flowing watercourse. The river had given the town its life centuries ago, and maintained it when the rail line passed it by hundreds of years later.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs she neared the town, Grace moved at human speed, approaching from the wrong side\u0026mdash;from the mountains, not the road. It didn\u0026rsquo;t take her long to find what she was looking for. A house set apart from the others. A single chair on the tiny porch, where a man in his sixties sat, enjoying the light of the long summer evening.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGun ownership rates in Switzerland were among the highest in Europe. With no standing army, every Swiss adult man served in the reserve militia, trained in the use of firearms and issued a rifle to be kept secured in his home. Once a man had aged out of his required service, he could apply to keep his rifle and a small amount of ammunition. As long as he was considered to be of good character, the request was usually granted. Especially if he had a good reason for it, such as living in a rural area where he might hunt to supplement his winter diet, or need to defend himself from the occasional bear.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe rifle was locked in a safe in the man\u0026rsquo;s wardrobe, ammunition in a box beside it. Grace cracked the lock with a bit of effort and took what she needed, closing it up behind her. The man did not see her enter or leave. She left him watching the early sunset as the shadows lengthened across the valley.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace needed to get back to Sal, get this over with as quickly as possible. She burned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shook off the last of Norse\u0026rsquo;s blow and ran to catch him before he reached Asanti. Asanti, who was chanting as fast as she could. Sal hoped that she was going to pull off a miracle. She hoped she would have time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal slipped and skidded in the bloody snow. Fell to her hands and knees, pressed to her feet and fell again. Her throat ached from the exertion and the cold and the tang of blood in the air and she wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to make it. Why had she sent Grace away? She couldn\u0026rsquo;t see Mench\u0026uacute;. But not five feet from Norse stood one last hope.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam!\u0026rdquo; Sal screamed. \u0026ldquo;Stop him!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam was just standing there. Had Norse hit him with a spell? Was he enchanted? Frozen? But no, he turned to face her. A short nod, and he plunged into action.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam charged for all he was worth. But Norse had heard Sal\u0026rsquo;s shout and saw him coming. Even as Liam reached out for him, he turned, arm outstretched, a dark, twisting spell forming around his hand. Liam forced himself to keep running. He had a mission now. He wouldn\u0026rsquo;t let the others down. He braced himself for whatever Norse was preparing\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti finished first. Her glowing spell flew from her fingers and surrounded Norse with a cage of light. Norse\u0026rsquo;s attack fizzled in his palm. For a moment, he looked surprised at the magic surrounding him. He poked at the glowing strands of Asanti\u0026rsquo;s incantation, as though to find the limits of his bindings. He unraveled a few strands. With a gesture, Asanti wound them back, tighter and brighter than before. Norse threw back his head and laughed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s so funny?\u0026rdquo; Sal demanded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look at you. A police detective. An archivist who fancies herself a magician. A priest, and hacker, and\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; His gaze turned, looking for Grace. \u0026ldquo;Where\u0026rsquo;s the other one? Ah well, it doesn\u0026rsquo;t really matter. Not in the end.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you mean by that?\u0026rdquo; asked Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNorse shook his head. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s amazing. You\u0026rsquo;ve chased me across a continent, and you still have no idea what\u0026rsquo;s going on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal took a few minutes to satisfy herself that no one on the team was suffering from anything worse than a few bumps and being closer to hypothermia than they might like, then returned to where Asanti held Norse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt least for the moment, they remained at a standstill. For every move he made to escape, Asanti was ready with a counter. What worried Sal was that while Asanti appeared to be using most of her concentration to maintain her spell, Mr. Norse seemed casual, relaxed. He even bantered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are we going to stand here forever, Asanti? Until one of us is frozen and covered in snow? If we are, word of advice: The one of us who isn\u0026rsquo;t surrounded by a magical binding is probably going to find that more trying.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suppose the concerns of the body are secondary when you\u0026rsquo;re just borrowing it,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. Superficially, her tone was equally light, but Sal could sense the building strain.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sure I don\u0026rsquo;t know what you mean,\u0026rdquo; said Norse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You really think you\u0026rsquo;re still Alexander Norse?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;That you\u0026rsquo;ve been years in a shadow dimension and didn\u0026rsquo;t pick up any hitchhikers?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe scoffed. \u0026ldquo;The old tune won\u0026rsquo;t work a second time. And how would you know if I had a demon or not? I know you consider yourself a magician of some ability, but it\u0026rsquo;s only because you\u0026rsquo;re surrounded by abstinents. You\u0026rsquo;ve been the one-eyed queen in the land of the blind for years, but now the world has had its eyes opened. You\u0026rsquo;re about to learn how blind you are.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Really?\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Tell me what I don\u0026rsquo;t know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Schoolyard reverse psychology now? Unworthy of you\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA tap at her elbow and Sal turned to find Grace, a bolt-action rifle in her hands. Sal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Thank you.\u0026rdquo; She reached for the weapon, but Grace made no move to hand it over.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can take the shot,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve killed before. You don\u0026rsquo;t have to carry this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal didn\u0026rsquo;t think she could love Grace any more than she did in that moment. For making that offer. But this wasn\u0026rsquo;t a weight that Grace could take from her shoulders. \u0026ldquo;My team. My call. My shot,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. \u0026ldquo;But thank you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded, and gave her the rifle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti could feel her muscles shaking. She tried to keep the effort out of her voice, but she sensed that Norse could hear it anyway. He was toying with her. All of the jibing and bluster were designed to keep her occupied, to wear her down. It was working.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut when Asanti wanted to falter, she thought about the Maitresse, cut down on the stones before the Market she had maintained for centuries with nothing but her power and force of will. That extraordinary woman might have been able to save them all from what was coming. And this man had murdered her like she was nothing. Like she didn\u0026rsquo;t even matter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA voice interrupted her concentration. Not Norse. This was outside their verbal arena. Someone else. Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe couldn\u0026rsquo;t answer. Talking would require too much of her attention. Sal continued, \u0026ldquo;If you can hear me, I need you to let go. Let the spell drop. We\u0026rsquo;re ready.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eReady for what? With what?\u003c/em\u003e Sal hadn\u0026rsquo;t said. Just asked her to drop the spell. To trust her. Did she? Despite all of their differences, all that had happened over the last year? \u003cem\u003eYes.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti let go.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA loud \u003cem\u003eCRACK\u003c/em\u003e followed by the acrid smell of gunpowder. Asanti blinked. Turned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal held a rifle leveled at Norse\u0026rsquo;s heart, smoke wisping from the barrel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMr. Norse looked down. The bullet hung inches from his chest, suspended in midair. He frowned, then looked at Sal. \u0026ldquo;Really?! You thought that you could just shoot me? I am a wizard! I have spent years researching, practicing, steeping my very being in the essence of otherworldly powers most humans cannot even imagine! I am supported and driven by masters who make my own learning look like the fumblings of a scared schoolboy! And you thought I could be taken out by \u003cem\u003ethis\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWith a flick of his fingers, Norse sent the bullet hurtling back toward Sal. Grace snatched her out of the way a fraction of a second before it could pierce her chest. Norse\u0026rsquo;s eyebrow went up. \u0026ldquo;Yours is a mystery I should have devoted more time to exploring when I had the chance. Alas, now I am preoccupied with other business.\u0026rdquo; He turned. \u0026ldquo;Come, Asanti. I will kill your friends soon enough, but first, why don\u0026rsquo;t you enjoy your own hospitality?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore the others could move, Mr. Norse seized Asanti and flung her behind him. Asanti found herself tumbling not toward snowy ground but into a wavering disk of magic, not so different from the door she had opened to bring them here. She did not think this one would take her back to London. \u003cem\u003eThat\u0026rsquo;s what he was doing\u003c/em\u003e, she thought. \u003cem\u003eStalling for time\u003c/em\u003e. \u003cem\u003eBuilding a trap of his own\u003c/em\u003e. There was nothing she could grab to catch herself. Nothing within her reach at all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNothing, except for Mr. Norse. And so she seized his wrists and dragged him down after her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was in her grandmother\u0026rsquo;s kitchen in Paris, where she had been sent for safety when she was a little girl. It was warm and filled with familiar smells and sounds. Her heart leaped in her chest. No, this was impossible. Her grandmother had been dead for forty years, the apartment long ago rented to another. The location lost to time as well as to space. But still, she could not stop herself from hoping as she turned to the stove and saw her grandmother with her back to her, singing softly as she worked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti struggled to speak past the sudden lump in her throat. Was this death? Had Norse killed her? \u0026ldquo;Bibi, is that you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman at the stove turned. She had her grandmother\u0026rsquo;s apron, her warm and loving arms, her soft breast that Asanti had sobbed into many times as a little girl. But she wore Norse\u0026rsquo;s face. He smiled. \u0026ldquo;Hello, Asanti. Welcome to your eternity.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti turned and ran.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe ran forever. For hours. As fast and far as her legs would carry her, and still it was not enough. The halls of her grandmother\u0026rsquo;s tiny flat stretched for ages, then twisted into the corridors of her university, to the labyrinthine halls of the Vatican. And no matter how quickly she ran, Norse was always right behind her. At least when he was chasing her, he was leaving the others alone. She had to keep running, had to keep running\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe walls flickered like a film skipping a sprocket. The polished marble was worn through to plush carpet that sent up plumes of dust at every footstep. It was not carpet that Asanti knew. \u003cem\u003eThis is not \u003c/em\u003emy\u003cem\u003e nightmare\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut whose was it?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe only other being Asanti had encountered here was Norse. Her heart pounded, almost drowning out the sound of the footsteps behind her and their implacable pursuit. But she forced herself to remain calm. To stop running. Her fear screamed. Asanti\u0026rsquo;s hand closed around the hard lump in her coat\u0026rsquo;s inner pocket. The Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s book. Her gift and her legacy. If it was powerful enough to pierce the distance between London and the Alps, maybe it would be enough to punch through the walls of this trap and bring her back to the real world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti began to chant the spell. The second time in one day, it was almost becoming familiar. As she spoke, the walls that had resembled the stacks in the Archives melted away, revealing the dusty, twisting halls of a faded manor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No!\u0026rdquo; Norse was still out of sight, but his cry was high-pitched with panic. \u0026ldquo;You can\u0026rsquo;t do this! You can\u0026rsquo;t bring me back here!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut Asanti did not stop. The walls of the place were solid, but thinning. Almost through\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. She heard footsteps, more distinct now, and risked a glance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNorse was running toward her from the distant end of a hall that seemed to stretch for miles. But instead of getting larger as he approached, with every step he grew smaller. Not just smaller, younger.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA boy no older than eight halted before her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti stopped chanting. \u0026ldquo;Who are you?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My name is Alex,\u0026rdquo; said the boy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt took a moment for the name to slot into place in Asanti\u0026rsquo;s mind. \u003cem\u003eAlex. Alexander. Alexander Norse.\u003c/em\u003e She licked lips gone suddenly dry. \u0026ldquo;How long have you been here, Alex?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. I found a book in the attic, and then everyone had vanished, and the monsters in the walls were saying scary things. Why did everyone disappear? Did my parents send you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That sounds very scary, Alex.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe boy rushed at her, and Asanti flinched, but all he did was cling to her skirts, pleading. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t leave. Stay with me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti gently disentangled Alex, holding him at arm\u0026rsquo;s length. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t stay,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No!\u0026rdquo; he pleaded. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t leave me here alone!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe could feel him trembling, just like one of her own children. Was this child the illusion? Or was the adult? The adult, she could not save. But neither could she abandon the child. She wiped the tears from his face. \u0026ldquo;Close your eyes, Alex. This will all be over soon.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe opened her book, and resumed her chant. A flicker of silver appeared on Alex\u0026rsquo;s chest, like a button. The walls of the manor house quaked and trembled. Alex flickered between the abandoned boy and the man who had attacked them in the snow, and every moment of his life in between. The silver flicker grew, a medallion on his chest, a silver shield. Blood bloomed around it as Asanti felt the spell pierce the barrier between this prison and the waking world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe boy\u0026rsquo;s eyes flew open, filled with fear and betrayal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAround them, Norse\u0026rsquo;s prison crumbled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was acutely aware of the passage of time. In the moments since Asanti and Norse had vanished into the portal, since the portal had sealed itself behind them without a trace that it had ever been, she took three breaths. She felt the cold wind sting against her cheeks. She reached for Sal\u0026rsquo;s hand and touched her fingers.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the next instant, before their fingers could close around each other, before anyone could ask what had happened, or what they should do next, a new portal opened and Asanti stepped through. She carried the body of a small boy. About the size to have once attended the primary school that was now their headquarters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe hung, limp and dead, in her arms.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who is that?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is Alex,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, voice choked, and with those words, all of her bottled grief burst through. She sobbed into Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s shoulder as he held her. She cried the whole way home.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEpilogue\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace sat next to Sal on the train for the last leg of their journey to London. Given Asanti\u0026rsquo;s emotional state, no one argued against taking the long route back. Grace tried to read, but couldn\u0026rsquo;t concentrate. Sal was too quiet. At last, she stopped staring at her cheap paperback and laid her head on Sal\u0026rsquo;s shoulder. She felt the other woman stiffen, and sat back up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sorry, I\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, I was just\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace signaled for Sal to go first.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t think you were into public displays of affection. You surprised me, that\u0026rsquo;s all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s been a while since my last relationship. I\u0026rsquo;m out of practice.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled. \u0026ldquo;I can help with that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace put her head back on Sal\u0026rsquo;s shoulder, glanced up. Sal\u0026rsquo;s expression had turned pensive again. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;ll be okay,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Norse isn\u0026rsquo;t coming back this time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then what is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Norse mentioned \u0026lsquo;his masters\u0026rsquo; when he was ranting at Asanti. What if there\u0026rsquo;s someone still out there, pulling his strings?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He was possessed. He was probably talking about his demon.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But he said \u0026lsquo;masters,\u0026rsquo; plural.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No law that says you can only be possessed by one demon at a time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace could see Sal wasn\u0026rsquo;t buying it, but couldn\u0026rsquo;t think of anything reassuring to say. Except that it didn\u0026rsquo;t matter. Now that Norse was gone, something new would come along, whether he had been acting alone or not. Because something always did. And they would deal with whatever it was when it came.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey watched the landscape roll by in silence. Together.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was late when they reached London and even later when Asanti finally slept. Mench\u0026uacute; went to the school kitchen in search of a cup of tea and found Liam staring at a piece of cake on the counter. \u0026ldquo;Are you all right?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah,\u0026rdquo; said Liam. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been staring at this thing for hours trying to give myself permission to eat it. I\u0026rsquo;m bloody perfect.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked at Mench\u0026uacute; and for the first time the priest saw the depth of the other man\u0026rsquo;s loss. How had he become so wrapped up in his own sorrows that he had missed Liam\u0026rsquo;s pain? \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;In the space of a few months, our lives have turned completely upside down. No one blames you for having some difficulty finding your footing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a fucking piece of cake. I\u0026rsquo;ll deal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t like magic. More than any of us, you have reason to hate and distrust it. And now it\u0026rsquo;s everywhere. I should have seen that sooner. I let you down.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not your fault, Father. I\u0026rsquo;m a grown man, I should be able to run my own bloody life without a cue sheet. But then\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. something like this happens and I just want someone to tell me what to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; squeezed his shoulder. \u0026ldquo;You might want it, but you don\u0026rsquo;t need it. I have faith in you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam huffed a laugh. \u0026ldquo;At least one of us does.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; smiled and poured Liam a mug of tea. They shared the cake between them in silence.\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nThe team trapped Alexander Norse in a hell dimension after he wreaked magical havoc for years, having found a book in the attic as a young child. They thought he was there for good, but he’s recently reappeared. Sal and Grace spoke to the Brothers and Sisters of the Forest, people with distinctly wolf-like characteristics, at the Market. Asanti struggled to come to terms with her close friend’s death, lashing out at those around her in her grief. She delved into the book she received from the Maitresse as part of her inheritance. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum.\u003c/p\u003e \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAlexander Norse\u003c/strong\u003e: An old enemy of the Bookburners\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Margaret Dunlap\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.246","slug":"bookburners-s4e03","audio":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/audio/season4/BBS4E03.mp3","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E03.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E03.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E03.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 3"},{"id":"5ad4aefa4a189e00019c6d2e","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":4,"title":"Man About Town","released_date":"2018-07-11T11:23:17.827+00:00","released":true,"strapline":"With their previous mission rendered impossible by the battle in London, the Bookburners search for a new purpose.","byline":"Andrea Phillips","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E04.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/dividers/bookburners_episode1_divider.png","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-07-11","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe wall of teeth glistened. Libby Gonzalez scowled at it, wishing it were doing any number of other things instead: twitching and grabbing at random passersby, for example, like the lampposts near the Marble Arch Tube stop. Or gibbering in five languages, like the eyes in the mist that hovered over Vauxhall Bridge.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut no, these were just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. teeth: motionless, faintly wet, and disappointingly absent of any \u003cem\u003ekinetic \u003c/em\u003eelement. They sprouted from an otherwise unremarkable alley wall, surrounded by badly smoothed cement. Every single tooth was completely uniform in size and color (thanks to Libby\u0026rsquo;s dentist mother, she knew they were probably baby molars) and they fit together tightly, with the biting surfaces facing out, like pieces of a mosaic.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe wall wasn\u0026rsquo;t particularly frightening or evocative, which meant it definitely didn\u0026rsquo;t work as a visual metaphor for the current state of London. And she needed that visual metaphor like she needed breath.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrover Frampton hovered near the wall of teeth, just out of frame. He was certainly kinetic, down to the shivering tips of his shaggy white mop, but he looked like a retired postman. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t a visual metaphor for anything, either, unless it was why men of a certain age should reconsider wearing the garments that had fit them twenty-five years ago: straining across the belly, baggy in the chest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s going to work, right?\u0026rdquo; he asked. He gazed at the camera with frank adoration. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s recording this time?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I guess we\u0026rsquo;ll know soon,\u0026rdquo; Libby said. She fanned herself with her copy of Frampton\u0026rsquo;s Map of Weird London, which he had graciously thrown in for free after charging them \u0026pound;250 for the private, personal tour. Much use that had been.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sure it\u0026rsquo;ll work,\u0026rdquo; Grover said. He rubbed his hands together. \u0026ldquo;You know, I\u0026rsquo;m the world\u0026rsquo;s leading expert on Weird London. I even saw everything that happened that day with my own two\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby turned away from Grover. \u0026ldquo;How\u0026rsquo;s the shot?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer cameraman Jian shrugged. \u0026ldquo;You know how it is. You\u0026rsquo;ve seen the shot before. We all have. It\u0026rsquo;s the same shot everyone else gets, just like all the tourists get the same selfie with Westminster Abbey from that Kodak spot.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe said this in a placid way. An herbal way, not to put too fine a point on it. Jian was always calm in the storm of production, and Libby had always relied upon that before. But his calm even here, in Weird London, even now, after all that had happened\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. She had suddenly realized that calm was overrated. Sometimes you needed someone by your side freaking out along with you, just to anchor your sense of what was normal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHere were some things that were absolutely not normal: Almost being half-strangled by a goddamn streetlight. Walking down the block and finding yourself coated with a thin shell of fine-grit sand by the other end, even inside your mouth and, ah, other uncomfortable places. Normal was also not your seasoned production crew erasing all their footage of the lampposts attacking. Or static overwriting all the footage of that mist full of eyeballs at the bridge. Or sand getting inside a \u0026pound;1,200 camera and destroying the lenses.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby walked over to the viewfinder of the new camera and scowled at that, too. Through the lens, the wall of teeth looked like any other ivory mosaic. It could\u0026rsquo;ve been edited into a documentary on fifteenth-century art and nobody would have even noticed the difference. At worst, once you knew what it was, it came off like a badly conceived Halloween decoration.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to do at all. \u0026ldquo;How the hell are we going to get any money for this documentary if all of our footage is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. this? The same lousy shot as every other two-bit filmmaker\u0026rsquo;s come up with?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not.\u0026rdquo; Jian shrugged. Libby wanted to shake him until his adrenaline gland woke up from its coma.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrover cleared his throat. \u0026ldquo;You know, even if you can\u0026rsquo;t film the the \u003cem\u003especial\u003c/em\u003e areas, that\u0026rsquo;s not the only part of Weird London that got touched.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby steeled herself for whatever terrible idea was about to emerge from his mouth. \u0026ldquo;Sure. What else did you have in mind?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The people of Weird London are just as delightfully strange now,\u0026rdquo; he said. He lowered his voice to a whisper. \u0026ldquo;Even I was touched! Did you know that my hair grows twice as fast now, and I can\u0026rsquo;t go but three weeks between haircuts? I\u0026rsquo;m practically a bloody werewolf!\u0026rdquo; He worked his way up to a droning crescendo: \u0026ldquo;Few of us came away so lucky as me! For I myself was there the very day London changed, and I can tell you all about it. The dragon and the crow! I saw a red-headed man, twelve feet tall, striking down monsters with a magic sword like King Arthur himself! And I would be delighted to share my stories with you.\u0026rdquo; He bowed, with a flourish.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby stared at him. He looked like a cross between a mop and a barrel. He sounded like an F-grade Shakespearean actor, with an unpleasant, whiny timbre. There was no way anybody would want to watch a documentary anchored by this fellow, and more to the point, there was no way she\u0026rsquo;d get any money for saying she was going to try.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo sense in burning a bridge, though, and if he could hook her up with someone better, she\u0026rsquo;d have to make nice with him. She tried to think of how she\u0026rsquo;d react if he were a studio executive: a pinch of flattery, a whopping dollop of false enthusiasm. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s very kind,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;And I think focusing on the people and not the places is a very exciting idea! Can you introduce me to some of these interesting people? You\u0026rsquo;re at the heart of Weird London, so you must know everything. And you must know every\u003cem\u003eone\u003c/em\u003e, too.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat did the trick. Grover preened at this mild praise. \u0026ldquo;Of course,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;It would be my pleasure.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere is only so much training a man can do before his limbs turn to rubber. Even when that training is the kind you can do in an elementary school gym: running laps, calisthenics, ritual-like movements with a medicine ball. It added up to a formidable wall of fatigue. Liam hit that wall, then hurled himself against it for another fruitless hour before admitting to himself that he was cooked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat left a new problem. It was only five o\u0026rsquo;clock, and Liam still felt like a loaded gun waiting for somebody to fire it. Since Mr. Norse had met his end, the team had been lying low and trying to work out what they were going to do next. Stay together, yes, of course. They were a team. They were more than a team.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut that didn\u0026rsquo;t mean nothing had changed. And many of the changes were unpleasant. Just this morning, he\u0026rsquo;d bounced into the library looking for Sal to ask her what the plan was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For what?\u0026rdquo; she\u0026rsquo;d asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam had shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. plans for today,\u0026rdquo; he\u0026rsquo;d said. \u0026ldquo;Like a schedule. Are we training today, or research, or\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal had rolled her eyes. \u0026ldquo;Liam! Grow up and develop some initiative. Sometimes you have to make some decisions on your own. Jesus Christ, do you want me to tell you when to blow your nose, too?\u0026rdquo; Then she\u0026rsquo;d shared a look of exasperation with Grace. That had stung the most\u0026mdash;that commiseration.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut was she right? What had he done in his downtime in the Vatican? It hadn\u0026rsquo;t all been training and orders. Or had it? He\u0026rsquo;d gone through his daily routines on muscle memory, and now that he was removed from that place and those triggers, he couldn\u0026rsquo;t bring to mind the patterns that had been familiar only a few months ago.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam lay on his back on one of the vinyl-coated gym mats, a puddle of his own sweat cooling around him, and stared at the jerseys hung in the rafters. Maybe what he needed was a good rest and a friendly face. Luckily, over the last few months he\u0026rsquo;d discovered an easy, almost inevitable affinity with someone close by. Someone who had started out much like Liam had himself, and gone through many of the same terrible and wonderful things.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe dialed Perry, probably in the library with Asanti. But that was clear in the far wing of the school, and anyway, he didn\u0026rsquo;t want to chance running into Sal again. \u0026ldquo;Hey, mate, you want to go have some fun tonight? Drink a pint or two, maybe find an arcade?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;d love to,\u0026rdquo; Perry said. \u0026ldquo;But I already have plans tonight.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam blinked. \u0026ldquo;Doing what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going out with Frances to a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. well. There\u0026rsquo;s a place we like.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOh. \u003cem\u003eOh.\u003c/em\u003e He blinked even harder. \u0026ldquo;Congratulations, man,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Didn\u0026rsquo;t realize you\u0026rsquo;d become an item. Nice to know angels aren\u0026rsquo;t above the pleasures of the flesh, eh?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not like that,\u0026rdquo; said Perry. He sounded scandalized, though Liam wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure about which part. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re just friends. I, uh, if you wanted to join us you\u0026rsquo;d be welcome.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be a third wheel?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nah, man, we\u0026rsquo;re just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. work friends, same as you are. Come on out with us, it sounds like you could use some fresh air and sunshine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just promise me there won\u0026rsquo;t be any fresh air or sunshine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Meet us at the front entrance at nine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry met Liam by the door right on time, dressed in tight jeans and a loose white top that reminded Liam of pirates. It didn\u0026rsquo;t suit him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Frances doesn\u0026rsquo;t think you can handle it,\u0026rdquo; Perry said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Handle what?\u0026rdquo; Liam shoved his hands in his pockets. \u0026ldquo;Look, I\u0026rsquo;m not some lightweight who\u0026rsquo;s going to be dancing on tables after half a pint. I didn\u0026rsquo;t drink for a long time, but it\u0026rsquo;s not because they took out my liver.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry waved vaguely. \u0026ldquo;No, the club,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;She thinks it\u0026rsquo;s a bad idea.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What, no Irish allowed?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, man, it\u0026rsquo;s for\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. us. People who were touched. In London.\u0026rdquo; He cleared his throat. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a magic place.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOh, shit\u003c/em\u003e. Liam genuinely reconsidered. His professional association with Team Three aside, Liam\u0026rsquo;s personal policy was to avoid magic and anything to do with magic. He\u0026rsquo;d come by that policy the hard way, and it had never steered him very wrong. But everything was changing, and now there was too much magic in the world to bottle up again. And Asanti had said there would never be less magic again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, there was one thing that hadn\u0026rsquo;t changed in all of this, and that was Liam. And specifically, Liam\u0026rsquo;s devotion to his team. His friends. His \u003cem\u003efamily\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe was going to have to get used to this at some point. \u0026ldquo;If it\u0026rsquo;s good enough for you, it\u0026rsquo;s good enough for me,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re sure?\u0026rdquo; Perry peered into his eyes, and Liam had to remind himself for the zillionth time that Perry couldn\u0026rsquo;t read minds. \u0026ldquo;It might be a little intense for you. Like your old, bad times.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam bowed his head. \u0026ldquo;I get you,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;m over it now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry cleared his throat again. \u0026ldquo;Frances,\u0026rdquo; he called, \u0026ldquo;You heard that, right? I tried to warn him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances rolled down the ramp. Her lips glittered, and her eyes, too, behind her glasses. She wore a sequined miniskirt and not one of the long skirts he\u0026rsquo;d thought were all she owned, and as soon as Liam realized the shifting mass of bright green wasn\u0026rsquo;t all sequins\u0026mdash;wasn\u0026rsquo;t even all fabric\u0026mdash;he jerked his eyes away in an effort not to stare. In fact, he turned his back on her and stared at the football trophies in the case instead.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe jabbed Liam in the arse with two fingers. \u0026ldquo;You can look,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, no, I don\u0026rsquo;t\u0026mdash;what do you mean?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You can look at me,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s fine. I\u0026rsquo;m not ashamed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn all the time since her accident in Middle Coom, Frances had kept her lower areas mostly covered. Liam had known early on that something about her had changed, of course, based on the unsettling and inhuman movements under her long skirts. And he\u0026rsquo;d seen glimpses of what lay beneath, though he\u0026rsquo;d felt it was wrong, a mystery he was not meant to know. She had certainly never been so open with her new reality before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances no longer had legs. She had tentacles, instead, perhaps eight or ten of them. (Liam wasn\u0026rsquo;t counting.) They were a brilliant emerald green with a bluish triangular pattern along the top, with a softer pink along the underside. There were rows of round, pale-pink suckers. One of the tentacles reached out and touched his calf, and Liam jumped again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe you shouldn\u0026rsquo;t come with us,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not going to be all right with what you see in there if I\u0026rsquo;m already freaking you out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll be fine,\u0026rdquo; he insisted. \u0026ldquo;Uh. The color of your legs, uh, your\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tentacles,\u0026rdquo; Frances said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The color of your tentacles is very, um, attractive.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe pursed her lips, probably in an effort to not laugh. \u0026ldquo;Thank you, Liam. I happen to agree.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; Perry said, \u0026ldquo;let\u0026rsquo;s do this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eClub Pandora had been a warehouse before the change. It still was, on the outside. This wasn\u0026rsquo;t Liam\u0026rsquo;s first warehouse party, and he thought nothing of it until he noticed the bouncer\u0026rsquo;s moustache was made of bristling insect legs on the left side.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was an altercation in process; a pair of men with scarves hiding most of their faces were trying to shove past Roachstache to get into the club. He blocked their way, implacable as a wall and almost as wide. \u0026ldquo;No entry for your kind,\u0026rdquo; he growled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You won\u0026rsquo;t let us by because we\u0026rsquo;re not monsters like you?\u0026rdquo; snapped one of the men. \u0026ldquo;How dare you even show your face in public looking like\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry stepped in with open palms. \u0026ldquo;I think you have urgent business elsewhere,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Unless you fancy having your faces rearranged tonight,\u0026rdquo; the bouncer added. \u0026ldquo;Monsters are vicious, you know. And I could use a snack right about now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe larger man plucked at the smaller one\u0026rsquo;s sleeve. \u0026ldquo;Hey, Nigel? Maybe we should lay off.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe small one turned to Liam. \u0026ldquo;Help us out, man,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;You look like you\u0026rsquo;re one of us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Pretty sure I\u0026rsquo;m not, mate,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go, Nigel,\u0026rdquo; the big one whispered, his voice urgent.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNigel glared at the bouncer one more time. His eyes glinted hazel in the neon. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll be back with reinforcements,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re going to purify London.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll look forward to it,\u0026rdquo; Roachstache replied.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce the pair of troublemakers had made their retreat, the bouncer looked Liam over like he was inspecting for damage. \u0026ldquo;Oi, you sure about this one?\u0026rdquo; he asked Frances. \u0026ldquo;He looks like he\u0026rsquo;s not one of us, either.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s good. He\u0026rsquo;s a Bookburner,\u0026rdquo; Frances said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bouncer\u0026rsquo;s eyes widened. \u0026ldquo;This is the ginger? He\u0026rsquo;s the one with the sword?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bouncer looked Liam over a second time. \u0026ldquo;Thought he\u0026rsquo;d be taller, more muscles,\u0026rdquo; he said. He visibly strove to overcome his disappointment and forgive Liam for his mundanity. \u0026ldquo;Thanks for what you did, man,\u0026rdquo; Roachstache said. He clasped Liam\u0026rsquo;s hand. \u0026ldquo;We appreciate all the work you\u0026rsquo;ve done for us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, uh, thanks,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, and trailed Frances inside.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe\u0026rsquo;d been warned, and Liam had seen plenty of magic in his day. Even so, he was not prepared for what he found in the club. There were the familiar accoutrements of a warehouse-turned-rave: the lighting rig casting the scene in a shifting spectrum of color, the DJ booth on a raised pedestal at the far end, the bar, the heat, the press of the crowd.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut the floor was amber, lit up from within: like the substance, not just the color. Beneath their feet lay something like swarms of fireflies. He looked closer. They were tiny birds, feathers traced with light. They flew in intricate formations, but so slowly that at first glance they seemed frozen in time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sweet Christ,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;I get why people come to see this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They come to see something. It changes every night,\u0026rdquo; Perry said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances\u0026rsquo;s pupils were enormous behind her glasses. \u0026ldquo;Last week it was tar and feathers, and the place stank so badly they shut down for the night before it even got dark.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll get you drinks,\u0026rdquo; Perry said, and pushed away through the crowd. He was stopped a few feet away by a woman with six arms and lightning crackling in her hair. Perry hugged her like they were old friends and stopped to chat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eHuh\u003c/em\u003e, Liam thought. Were Frances and Perry\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. regulars here? He wondered how anyone could be a regular at a place like this. He wondered why they\u0026rsquo;d never mentioned it before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, no, he knew why.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Should we sit?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked Frances. \u0026ldquo;Uh, should I sit?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I want to dance,\u0026rdquo; Frances said. She was looking at the crowd and not at Liam. \u0026ldquo;You can sit if you want.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wheeled into the crowd, and before long she had an entourage of dancers moving with her. Yep. They were regulars.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut Liam had started to notice a few things about the clientele here. There was a young man whose nose had turned into dark burled wood. A middle-aged matron whose ears were releasing a steady flow of soap bubbles. A person whose hands had become books, the pages riffling in time to the beat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere, Christ Almighty, were another three people with tentacles where various of their limbs had once been. The reality of it finally caught up with him. Everyone here had been changed by magic in some way or another.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eExcept Liam. Then again, he wasn\u0026rsquo;t entirely untouched by magic, either. And suddenly this all seemed horribly familiar to him. The music, the lights, the heat. The tingling feeling of magic surrounding him, of something inside him reaching up and taking over. He shivered and put his head in his hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You okay, man?\u0026rdquo; Perry was back, swaying enough that he was in danger of spilling the three drinks he held.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam felt eyes on him. A few people in the crowd were watching him and whispering to one another. He straightened. He\u0026rsquo;d come through all of that and it was done. The demon was gone. Christina was gone. That wasn\u0026rsquo;t a part of him anymore, and now he felt like hot metal ready to flow into a new shape, freed of all his old constraints.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m fine,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Goooooood.\u0026rdquo; Perry grinned. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;d be a shhhhame for you t-t-to get all hung up on\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. on the\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;On the past?\u0026rdquo; Liam frowned at Perry. Had he done shots with his six-armed friend when he\u0026rsquo;d gone to the bar? They hadn\u0026rsquo;t been here long enough for Perry to be goofy-can\u0026rsquo;t-talk-right drunk.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry nodded vigorously, and now the drinks did spill. Liam relieved him of them. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s grab a table.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey passed a wild-haired man. \u0026ldquo;This is him,\u0026rdquo; the man crowed. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s him! Our hero!\u0026rdquo; He danced an actual jig in front of his companions, a tiny olive-skinned woman who looked ready to murder people and a darker-skinned man in a turban who looked like he couldn\u0026rsquo;t bear to stay awake.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s who?\u0026rdquo; the woman asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s him! The ginger!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman rolled her eyes, and didn\u0026rsquo;t even bother to hide it from her companion. \u0026ldquo;Yes. I see that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The ginger with the sword!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman scrutinized Liam. \u0026ldquo;Oh, is that so?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The name is Frampton.\u0026rdquo; The wild-haired man pressed a brochure into Liam\u0026rsquo;s hand. \u0026ldquo;This one\u0026rsquo;s on me, but tell your friends!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam glanced at it. Some sort of tour map. \u0026ldquo;Thanks?\u0026rdquo; he said, and shoved the paper into his pocket.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman looked Liam over with new, hungry eyes. \u0026ldquo;You have a sword and you fight magic?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Uh\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Liam looked around for help from Perry, but Perry was leaning on a support beam, holding his head. Liam hadn\u0026rsquo;t known he was such a lightweight. \u0026ldquo;I guess I do fight magic,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s fair enough.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have a good look,\u0026rdquo; the woman said, thoughtfully. \u0026ldquo;I can work with this.\u0026rdquo; She handed him a business card. It was on cheap paper, and the phone number had been crossed out, with a new one written in by hand in purple ink. \u0026ldquo;My name is Libby Gonzalez, and I\u0026rsquo;m a filmmaker. How would you like to be featured in my next film? It\u0026rsquo;s a documentary about Weird London.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Featured in your\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u0026rdquo; Nothing about the question made sense.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen Perry vomited. Except what came out of his mouth was a gush of foul-smelling light that scattered like pieces of glass, and a flock of butterflies that flew circles around Perry until they landed on him and dissolved back into his skin. \u0026ldquo;What the fuck!\u0026rdquo; Liam danced back, then forward again to rest a hand between his friend\u0026rsquo;s shoulders. \u0026ldquo;Hey, man, are you\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances reappeared from the dance floor. \u0026ldquo;Damnation. We have to get him to Asanti,\u0026rdquo; she said. She sounded irritated but not panicked, as if this weren\u0026rsquo;t entirely unexpected. As if Perry vomited butterflies every day. Maybe it was an expected side effect of magic liquor?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam, can you lift him? I\u0026rsquo;ll call a car.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam picked up Perry in a fireman\u0026rsquo;s carry. His friend was lighter than he should have been, almost like he was hollowed out inside. On the plus side, Liam reflected, maybe vomiting butterflies meant Perry wasn\u0026rsquo;t a lightweight in the other sense, after all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby trailed them to the door as they left. \u0026ldquo;Call me!\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah,\u0026rdquo; Liam answered. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll be sure to get right on that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked for Perry the next morning in his usual quarters, a former science room with a periodic table and Mohs hardness chart still hanging on the walls, side by side with tacked-up sketches of pentagrams, concentric spheres, and several still-life sketches of books. But he wasn\u0026rsquo;t there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnly one place to look: the school library. Asanti had well and truly taken over, and stacks of books were piled haphazardly in rows that reminded Liam of the Black Archives, or at least the pre-Frances Archives, before the Vatican had agreed to invest in shelves.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry was curled up on his side on a makeshift cot that looked like it had been Army surplus fifty years ago. Wires of blackened silver spiraled up his limbs, across his chest, and came together where a silver cross rested on his forehead. He looked pale and a little green.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Whoa, Asanti, isn\u0026rsquo;t all that going to hurt him?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked. \u0026ldquo;Perry is made of magic, isn\u0026rsquo;t he? What\u0026rsquo;s\u0026mdash;what\u0026rsquo;s going on?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti set her pen down where she\u0026rsquo;d left off writing. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she had a little more gray in her hair than Liam remembered. \u0026ldquo;Magic is the problem.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom his sickbed, Perry croaked, \u0026ldquo;This mortal shell was never meant for the powers that course within it, for all flesh must fail, and my spirit is greater than yours.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What the living fuck.\u0026rdquo; Liam stared at him, but Perry hadn\u0026rsquo;t even opened his eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where were you last night?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked Liam. \u0026ldquo;Frances was cagey, and Perry is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We were at the edge of the beyond, and I felt the gaze of those who gave my charge,\u0026rdquo; Perry said. \u003cem\u003eNo\u003c/em\u003e, Liam realized with a start. This was two beings in one body, and the one who was speaking now\u0026mdash;that one was Aaron.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is he going to be all right?!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All flesh must fail,\u0026rdquo; Aaron said again. He shuddered, a thing that started at his head and moved through him to his toes, as if he were a sea.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Speak with me in the hall, Liam,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Please.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam spent one more anxious look on Perry, but the man was still now. He followed Asanti out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe hallways were hung with stained-glass windows the school\u0026rsquo;s children had made out of tissue paper. Some of them had been more diligent than others, and Liam felt a kinship with a mystery child named Lukas whose work looked like it had been done in two minutes behind his back in the dark on a moving ship.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti crossed her arms and watched Liam\u0026rsquo;s toes. \u0026ldquo;Perry is going to die,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What? Like\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. now? What\u0026rsquo;s wrong with him?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a cosmic joke,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Perry is allergic to magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shook his head. \u0026ldquo;That doesn\u0026rsquo;t make any sense.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It does, though,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, grim. \u0026ldquo;Magic is the essence of change. The balance that allows Aaron to stay in Perry\u0026rsquo;s body is very delicate, and any sort of magical pressure can change that configuration. He loses control of himself. His muscles, his brain.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like being drunk.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe raised her hand to her eyes. \u0026ldquo;This is the beginning of the end,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;The tide is rising faster and faster, and I can\u0026rsquo;t find anything that will even slow it down. Perry is just a canary, a sign of what\u0026rsquo;s happening here. He\u0026rsquo;ll be fine if he stays away from places like\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. wherever you were last night. But I don\u0026rsquo;t know how long we have until it\u0026rsquo;s like that\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. everywhere.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everywhere.\u0026rdquo; Liam remembered that formless, shifting nothing with a pink sky.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s shoulders shook. \u0026ldquo;Are you\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. all right?\u0026rdquo; he asked tentatively. \u0026ldquo;Can I get you a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. a chocolate bar? Or some whiskey?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For now, just promise me you won\u0026rsquo;t let Perry go back to that place.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I doubt he wants to.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or any of the more magical places in London. They\u0026rsquo;ll hurt him, and I don\u0026rsquo;t know how long I can hold this at bay.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Will do,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you, Liam,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. She pulled Liam into a hug, an awkward first. Liam patted her back helplessly. \u0026ldquo;I need him,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said at last. \u0026ldquo;I need him to help with the work. I need all of you. There just isn\u0026rsquo;t enough time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll find a way,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;I trust you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti glanced over at Perry again. \u0026ldquo;Just one thing. Do you mind keeping this to yourself for a little while? Perry wants to tell Sal on his own terms.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought we weren\u0026rsquo;t keeping secrets anymore.\u0026rdquo; He could feel the corners of his mouth pulling down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re all entitled to our private lives.\u0026rdquo; Asanti patted his arm. \u0026ldquo;Now go get some sleep.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam was still wired, no matter how late at night it was. He didn\u0026rsquo;t want to be alone, but he\u0026rsquo;d run short of people. He was drawn to the light and sound leaking from the former teachers\u0026rsquo; lounge. He found Grace and Sal holed up watching a cooking show with a bag of popcorn. He had to admit they seemed good together. Sal seemed happy. Grace seemed human.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal noticed him first. \u0026ldquo;Want a seat?\u0026rdquo; she asked. She moved to the center to make room for him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam slouched his way over to Sal, feeling as if the secret of Perry\u0026rsquo;s condition was lit over his head like a neon sign. He tried to put on his best impression of normalcy, tried to think of what he\u0026rsquo;d say if she asked him what he\u0026rsquo;d been up to this evening. He didn\u0026rsquo;t want to lie, but he\u0026rsquo;d been asked not to blurt out a difficult truth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSalvation came on its own. The business card fluttered out of his pocket as he sat down. Sal picked it up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Libby Gonzalez, Infinite Sight Productions? What\u0026rsquo;s that all about? You trying to break into acting now that you\u0026rsquo;re out of the Vatican?\u0026rdquo; She looked at him sidelong. \u0026ldquo;If you\u0026rsquo;re planning on doing that you might want to let your hair grow a little more. Maybe a beard. You still look like a monk.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stifled a laugh.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged with his whole body. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know their deal,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;They said they\u0026rsquo;re making a film and they want me to be in it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What kind of film? Tell me it\u0026rsquo;s not porn.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam snorted. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a documentary about magic,\u0026rdquo; he said. He tried to think of what he would say if he weren\u0026rsquo;t trying to hide anything. \u0026ldquo;So we should probably try to shut it down.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal continued her thought. \u0026ldquo;Who\u0026rsquo;s it going to hurt? We\u0026rsquo;ve got bigger fish to fry.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, even if we don\u0026rsquo;t keep them from it, there\u0026rsquo;s Team Two, I reckon. Shouldn\u0026rsquo;t step on their toes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal folded her arms behind her head. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t see how you\u0026rsquo;re in their jurisdiction anymore,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;And it\u0026rsquo;s not like they\u0026rsquo;ve been able to keep Weird London a secret. Cat\u0026rsquo;s out of the bag now, Liam. The world knows something is happening, even if they don\u0026rsquo;t know what.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fair.\u0026rdquo; Liam watched the TV, where an excitable young woman was in ecstasies over a bowl of meringue.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal popped a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. \u0026ldquo;So if there\u0026rsquo;s nothing to stop you, are you going to do it?\u0026rdquo; There was a challenge in her delivery.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam turned the idea over, like it was a smooth stone in his fingers. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t even sure where to begin making the decision. \u0026ldquo;Do you think I should?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Grace exchanged a look, and Liam suddenly suspected they\u0026rsquo;d had a conversation about him before this. \u0026ldquo;Sometimes,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;I get the idea that you don\u0026rsquo;t trust your own judgment. But I\u0026rsquo;m not your mother or your boss, or\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. anything, really.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But I don\u0026rsquo;t know if\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s your decision,\u0026rdquo; Grace interrupted. She gave him a hard look. \u0026ldquo;Think about it on your own. Do you \u003cem\u003ewant\u003c/em\u003e to do this?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo help from this quarter, then. \u0026ldquo;I have no idea.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Work it out,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She turned back to the TV.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWith the lapse in conversation, Liam felt like Perry\u0026rsquo;s condition was going to burst out of him, like that baby alien from \u003cem\u003eAlien\u003c/em\u003e. Sal deserved to know, and Liam hated to keep a secret, but it also wasn\u0026rsquo;t his place to make that decision. Better to avoid the question. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m taking a walk,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, taking his feet. \u0026ldquo;Nobody wait up.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We won\u0026rsquo;t,\u0026rdquo; said Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pockets of magic that made up Weird London had pooled in some places, creating artifacts that were strange, beautiful, or horrifying, and often still in flux. He walked along the route given on the map that wild-haired man had given him. Frampton.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was a tour of the most magical parts of London, or at least the ones with the showiest and most visceral demonstrations of magic. It reminded him of Middle Coom; things had oozed into each other, losing their boundaries. There was a park bench where the wood had come back to life and was now thickly covered with leaves. A bird\u0026rsquo;s nest that had changed to glass, with the nestlings still turned to the sky, mouths open. In one place the sidewalk had become a writhing mass of earthworms. In another the cement had flowed into the street like honey. He wrote his initials in that one, and watched as the surface of the cement slowly returned to smoothness.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was a townhouse with a sign nailed to the door: \u003cem\u003e\u0026pound;10 to See Infinity\u003c/em\u003e. Liam chose not to knock.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA documentary about magic. Everything about it went against years of Vatican policy and practice. But Sal was right, Team Two was probably too overwhelmed to cope with it now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam wanted to do it. He wanted to. But even so, why should he participate? He couldn\u0026rsquo;t think of a reason that did him credit. The glory of being in a movie? He tried not to let vanity get the best of him. Fortune, if not fame? Libby hadn\u0026rsquo;t exactly smelled of wealth, so he doubted much money would come his way, though he had begun to wonder how much longer the team could survive without the Vatican\u0026rsquo;s financial backing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWas there a reason to be involved in something like this, beyond cheap personal gratification?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNah. He crumpled the business card in his pocket. He just wouldn\u0026rsquo;t ever call her back. Easy enough. Wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be the first woman he\u0026rsquo;d done that to.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA kid with pink hair came pelting down the block, arms waving. \u0026ldquo;Help! Hey! Someone help us! The lamp got someone!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe kid pointed. \u0026ldquo;Next intersection. Can you help?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam ran.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lamppost was decorated with scrolls of wrought iron, but now those had uncurled and stretched out into whips. As promised, the lamp was waving a cyclist in the air, bike and all twined in its grasp. The cyclist wore a red helmet with a Flash decal on it, and shrieked like a car alarm. The bulb was on, and flickered between purple and green.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe streetlights had proven to be impossible to kill outright; Asanti had suggested they were part of a single entity, like those mushrooms that turned out to be miles and miles big. But there was a way to shut them down for a while.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked around for a weapon. Manhole covers were too heavy; none of the trees nearby had a branch sturdy enough for this purpose. But here was some kid\u0026rsquo;s skateboard, propped up in the fenced-off front garden of a flat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam hopped the fence to grab the skateboard, then he turned and waved it in the air until he got the attention of the lamppost. \u0026ldquo;Oi! Over here, you overgrown piece of scrap metal!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lamp ignored him, preferring to focus on the bike. Its appendages crushed the tubing like it was a stress toy. The cyclist continued to shriek.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam sighed and took a running leap at the lamp. It shuddered at his touch and dropped the cyclist to strike at Liam, instead.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe climbed up the post, inch by inch. The black paint was chipping and scraped his fingers. One of the lamp\u0026rsquo;s whips lashed Liam across the back and knocked the wind out of him. He gasped and flailed upward with the skateboard, striking at the glass enclosing the lamp bulb. It broke and spilled into his hair.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lamp changed tactics, now, and twined its appendages around Liam, trying to pull him away. He kept hold of the post with his legs and continued to smash blindly at the light above him. He had to take the bulb out eventually.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then there was a tiny pop and the smell of sour beer, and the street lamp went still. It would only last until some misguided civil servant replaced the light. But for now, the streets were safe once more.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam slid to the ground. \u0026ldquo;Hey, man.\u0026rdquo; He squatted next to the cyclist and his twisted bike. A spill of freshly laundered and folded socks had fallen from his messenger bag. \u0026ldquo;You all right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe cyclist gave up on sitting and lay flat on the sidewalk. \u0026ldquo;Fuck,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. give me a minute.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam patted his shoulder. \u0026ldquo;Take all the time you need. I\u0026rsquo;ll stay here until you\u0026rsquo;re upright.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe kid raced up to Liam, eyes glowing with excitement. \u0026ldquo;That was so cool, mister. Are you the ginger who saved us from the dragon?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I, uh, I suppose I am.\u0026rdquo; He smiled. \u0026ldquo;How do you even know about that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everyone knows,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re a \u003cem\u003elegend.\u003c/em\u003e\u0026rdquo; The kid pretended to slash the air with a nonexistent sword. \u0026ldquo;Can you tell me how to fight magic, too? I want to be like you, helping to save people from bad magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam laughed. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a dangerous job, and I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t want you to get hurt. Maybe when you\u0026rsquo;re more than half grown. You live around here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, this is my block.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I tell you what. Here\u0026rsquo;s my phone number.\u0026rdquo; Liam fished a marker from his bag and wrote on the kid\u0026rsquo;s arm. \u0026ldquo;If the lamp wakes up again or you have any other trouble, go ahead and call me. If I can come and help you out, I will.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then a thought struck him like an anvil falling from the sky. He sat down next to the cyclist from the weight of it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis calling was to protect people from magic, to keep the same things from happening to them as had happened to him. There was no way to stomp magic out of London now, though. No turning back the clock. So maybe it was time to change strategies toward public awareness of the problem. You have to name something to deal with it; he\u0026rsquo;d heard that once.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf he did the documentary, he could warn people. He could teach them how to protect themselves. He could teach them how to fight, and when to run.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe dug out his cellphone and dialed. \u0026ldquo;Hi, yeah, Libby, was it? When can we meet up?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; had created a safe haven deep in the off-limits area of London, in a formerly fashionable curry restaurant whose regular custom had fled. It still smelled of spices, and something about the light and hush seemed just as holy to him as any cathedral. When he was in, he hung his wooden cross on the door\u0026mdash;the one from the Maitresse, which still had no function as far as he could tell\u0026mdash;next to a sign offering counseling and contemplation. After a moment\u0026rsquo;s thought, he\u0026rsquo;d added a second sign beneath the first saying that all faiths were welcome and respected here.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA new flock had assembled more quickly than he would have expected: people in crisis, whose lives had been turned upside down. People who did not know what to believe. Some were Catholic, but most were not.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAll of them were people who had been changed, and felt they had nowhere to turn for help, not even in Weird London. Until now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eToday, Mench\u0026uacute; had only a single congregant. Checkers was one of Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s first visitors, and one of his most difficult. The young man had always been a cocksure alpha male, or so he described himself. He\u0026rsquo;d worked in banking and measured himself by numbers. Mostly the zeroes in his bank account.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow he was covered with sores that never healed; he had thorns sprouting from his body, his face had melted, and his joints ached unless he was submerged in water. This had caused other problems for him: He had lost his job, and his wife had left him. Checkers had no idea how to build a new life, when he knew the new could not look anything like the old.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis afternoon, Mench\u0026uacute; handed him a bowl of palak paneer when he came in. The curry shop\u0026rsquo;s owners had thrown themselves into feeding the afflicted of Weird London, and an ad hoc group of families had pooled their resources to try to feed, house, and clothe its changed citizens while the official government and insurance companies argued about whose responsibility it was to pay, what counted as a disability now, whether this was an Act of God that freed them from any obligation.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCheckers stared into his bowl. \u0026ldquo;I was thinking about Ibiza today,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Julianna went there when she left me, and I realized I can never go there again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And why is that?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look at me, Father. I\u0026rsquo;m a fucking nightmare come to life. I can\u0026rsquo;t even go out in the daytime anymore.\u0026rdquo; The change hadn\u0026rsquo;t affected Checkers\u0026rsquo;s voice, a hypnotic and beautiful baritone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The world will come to accept you,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But what if it doesn\u0026rsquo;t?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; paused. On second thought, he couldn\u0026rsquo;t make any promises. \u0026ldquo;First you have to accept yourself.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know what people are like. Fuck, I know what \u003cem\u003eI\u003c/em\u003e was like.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think everyone is like that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCheckers didn\u0026rsquo;t answer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think I\u0026rsquo;m like that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, of course not.\u0026rdquo; Checkers sighed and stirred the food in his bowl.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bell on the door sang. Father Mench\u0026uacute; knew from the silhouette that it was Mrs. Kim, though she hesitated a moment before entering. Her distinctive shock of tail feathers tumbled out from the hem of her jacket and spread a foot wide all the way to the ground, the feathers curled and red-brown like a rooster Mench\u0026uacute; had once known.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer eyes were red from crying, and she had a flyer in her hand. She showed it to him, shyly. \u0026ldquo;I found this on my door,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was a cartoon of her surrounded by flames. The caricature was both racist and poorly drawn. Below it was a slogan Mench\u0026uacute; had seen popping up on posters around the city:\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePURIFY LONDON\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe knew what purification meant in this circumstance. He\u0026rsquo;d seen that kind of ugliness before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; tore the note to pieces. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t let them frighten you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMrs. Kim hung her head. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re trying their best to frighten me, Father.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do they ever touch you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They try to get feathers from my tail sometimes.\u0026rdquo; Her tail shivered at the memory. \u0026ldquo;But usually they are after my neighbors. Just children. Cowards.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who is it?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Young men,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Mostly students. They are not in school since the emergency. I know I should turn the other cheek, Father, but it is difficult. I want to make them leave me alone. Please, can you teach me how to forgive them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; appraised her. She was barely five feet tall and round; she looked almost as fearsome as a new kitten. But even kittens had claws, and Mench\u0026uacute; didn\u0026rsquo;t see street bullies listening to the same kinds of philosophic reasoning about peace and love that Checkers needed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, different people had different needs. And Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s role was to see that the needs of his people were met. Sometimes that was a need for love, for gentle correction, for food.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSometimes those needs were different.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perhaps your role is not to forgive them, but to be a guardian to those weaker than you. Mrs. Kim, please take your coat off,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;And let me show you how to make a fist.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby bought Liam a cup of weak tea in a coffee shop full of office workers just outside the weird zone. \u0026ldquo;All right, here\u0026rsquo;s the concept,\u0026rdquo; said Libby. \u0026ldquo;You take us around to the weirdest parts of Weird London, like a tour guide. We\u0026rsquo;ve been having trouble with our film, but I have a good feeling that today things are going to turn around.\u0026rdquo; She glared at Jian. \u0026ldquo;If SOMEBODY can keep the camera straight and stops accidentally deleting the files.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe cameraman just shrugged at this accusation, like he\u0026rsquo;d already given up on arguing about it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shuffled his feet under the table. \u0026ldquo;You think\u0026mdash;oh, you don\u0026rsquo;t know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Know what?\u0026rdquo; Libby snapped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Magic and technology don\u0026rsquo;t always mix,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Cameras, cell phones. If you\u0026rsquo;re in the thick of it, it can be a bad idea to even try to use them. There can be, ah, unintended circumstances.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So it wasn\u0026rsquo;t Jian\u0026rsquo;s fault?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I said I was careful,\u0026rdquo; Jian said, as if she had agreed with him the whole time. \u0026ldquo;I always take my time to get it right.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby put her head in her hands. \u0026ldquo;Oh, Jesus, if it wasn\u0026rsquo;t his fault, that means it\u0026rsquo;s\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Impossible,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, helpfully.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby made claws with her hands. \u0026ldquo;No. It can\u0026rsquo;t be impossible. Where there\u0026rsquo;s a will, there\u0026rsquo;s a way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re the director, but I know magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re sure about this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby\u0026rsquo;s face clearly showed as each fresh impact in the cascade of implications struck her. \u0026ldquo;Is that why\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the wall of teeth. That\u0026rsquo;s why nobody can film anything except that. Because of the\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. magnetic field?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s magic,\u0026rdquo; Liam said flatly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby drummed her fingers on the table. \u0026ldquo;What if we use a telephoto lens?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged. \u0026ldquo;I guess you could try.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No audio, though,\u0026rdquo; Jian said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We could mike him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The mike wouldn\u0026rsquo;t work,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Like phones don\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo; His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he picked it up, grateful for the escape hatch from that particular conversation \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re the ginger, right?\u0026rdquo; said a voice at the other end.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat was starting to get old. \u0026ldquo;My name is Liam.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My nephew says you can help. I need you here right now. I have a problem with the\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the weird. You have to come right away.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is anyone in danger?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m in danger,\u0026rdquo; the voice snapped. He gave an address far enough that Liam would have to take a cab. \u0026ldquo;Hurry and we\u0026rsquo;ll pay extra.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stuck his phone back in his pocket. \u0026ldquo;You want something interesting to film?\u0026rdquo; he told Libby. \u0026ldquo;Come with me, but keep a distance. Maybe we\u0026rsquo;ll get you some interesting footage, after all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe address turned out to be a very nice apartment building well out of the area where Liam would have expected to find magic. Asanti had said something about floating bubbles of magic; maybe one of them had settled somewhere a little farther away than usual. That was going to be more and more of a problem.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA short man with a hipster beard and a plaid shirt met them in the lobby. \u0026ldquo;Ginger!\u0026rdquo; he called to Liam. \u0026ldquo;About time you made it here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked him up and down. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t sound like a man who wants my help, now do you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sorry, sorry!\u0026rdquo; The man held his hands up. \u0026ldquo;Owen McManus. This is my building, and I shouldn\u0026rsquo;t even be dealing with this, but the property manager ran away and won\u0026rsquo;t take my calls. I didn\u0026rsquo;t know where else to turn.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Show me the problem,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s plants in the ventilation ducts,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. He adjusted his thick-framed glasses. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ve clogged the whole place up. Well, almost all of it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You called me for a gardening problem?\u0026rdquo; Liam crossed his arms. Bloody plants. Just what he needed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The plants have eyeballs,\u0026rdquo; Owen said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby grinned. \u0026ldquo;Oh, if we can get that on film, it\u0026rsquo;ll be \u003cem\u003eperfect\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOwen unlocked a service closet and gestured inside. \u0026ldquo;See?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe far wall was covered with a thickly leaved vine, veined purple and silver. It had fruited, and true to Owen\u0026rsquo;s word, the fruit was eyeballs, heavy-lidded and sporting purple-silver irises. They all turned to watch Liam, blinking sleepily at the interruption.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re completely blocking the ducts,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. \u0026ldquo;Almost. The HVAC system nearly burned itself out before we spotted the problem. And it\u0026rsquo;s freaking out my tenants\u0026mdash;these things have sprung from just about every vent we\u0026rsquo;ve got in the whole building.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby elbowed Jian. \u0026ldquo;Test it,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Please, God, let this be filmable.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam ignored them. \u0026ldquo;And you tried just yanking the vines out, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You try it and see,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. He shuddered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam pulled on a glove. Then he reached in and plucked a tendril of the plant off the main vine. The vine sizzled, and a new replacement grew from the wound. The one in Liam\u0026rsquo;s hand wilted immediately, the eye twitching and then going dull. Within seconds, it had been replaced. The new eye watched Liam warily.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ah-hah, I see.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We tried pulling it out at the root, but it doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem to have a root. Can you help?\u0026rdquo; Owen asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You keep saying this thing has \u0026lsquo;almost\u0026rsquo; taken over your building,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s the almost?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just one apartment isn\u0026rsquo;t involved. The Behars on the fifth floor,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. \u0026ldquo;Do you think this is their fault?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not likely. But it can\u0026rsquo;t hurt to check and see why they\u0026rsquo;re so lucky.\u0026rdquo; Liam limbered his neck and shoulders. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go take a look.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOwen led them to the elevator, but when he pressed it, the light in the button flickered madly and then went dark. A silvery-purple tendril crept out through the slit between the elevator doors. Leaves spread wide, then fruited. The new eyeball stared at them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOwen jumped back. \u0026ldquo;Jesus Christ.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Jian! Did you get that?\u0026rdquo; Libby asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t know,\u0026rdquo; Jian replied. \u0026ldquo;Have to check later.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s just take the stairs,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Behars proved to be a tiny pair of older sisters with silver hair, wrinkled up like raisins that had been unaccountably wrapped in matching floral dressing gowns, one red and one purple. \u0026ldquo;I keep telling Owen, we don\u0026rsquo;t have a problem with that\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. plant,\u0026rdquo; said one. \u0026ldquo;We promised we\u0026rsquo;d call if anything turned up.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just let us look around,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. \u0026ldquo;This is Liam. He\u0026rsquo;s an expert in this sort of thing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe second woman, the one in the purple dressing gown, purred at Liam. \u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t you a sturdy one,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Stay as long as you\u0026rsquo;d like.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam winked at her. Couldn\u0026rsquo;t hurt to play to her vanity. \u0026ldquo;Just doing my job, ma\u0026rsquo;am.\u0026rdquo; He stepped into the apartment. It was immediately obvious why the vines were avoiding this apartment. The place was lined with shelves, and those shelves were swaybacked under the weight of china and crystal that held them\u0026mdash;and, more to the point, the silver. Silver platters. Silver tea services. Salt cellars, fruit bowls. There were rows and rows of tiny silver vessels of a kind Liam didn\u0026rsquo;t even recognize.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe purple-clad sister followed his gaze. \u0026ldquo;Nut cups,\u0026rdquo; she said, and somehow she made it sound raunchy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe red sister nodded with deep pride. \u0026ldquo;We have a service for sixty,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;The family has them from the time of the Inquisition! It\u0026rsquo;s very lucky.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eMystery solved\u003c/em\u003e, Liam thought. Magic avoiding a stash of ancient silver was about as solid an expectation as there could be in these matters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Lucky indeed,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Can I borrow one?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You won\u0026rsquo;t hurt it, will you?\u0026rdquo; Red asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll allow as it might get tarnished,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But that\u0026rsquo;s all. Probably.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe nut cup was heavier than it looked. On closer inspection, Liam found it was embossed with vines and flowers. Fitting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBack in the hallway, Liam found a ventilation duct with telltale edges of leaves peeping out through the slats. He pulled the grille off. The screws came away as if they\u0026rsquo;d been anchored in sand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey! Careful!\u0026rdquo; Owen said. \u0026ldquo;You could have waited for a screwdriver.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sure, and Seymour here would start eating people while we took the time,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. He brandished the nut cup at the stupid plant. \u0026ldquo;Being eaten by a plant is not a good time. Trust me, I know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe nearest leaves shivered and flinched back from the silver. Liam shoved the piece of silver further into the vent. The vine shrieked, a piercing sound that hurt Liam\u0026rsquo;s teeth. Where the silver brushed against the leaves, the plant dissolved into a silvery burst of smoke from the point of contact on up to the tips of the vine, then dissipated. \u0026ldquo;Try not to breathe it,\u0026rdquo; Liam told Owen. \u0026ldquo;But it looks like this is the answer. We\u0026rsquo;ll have to go into the basement to cut this thing out where it started. Assuming it started in the basement?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure,\u0026rdquo; Owen said. \u0026ldquo;Probably.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby and Jian set up a tripod and half a dozen lights and reflecting umbrellas in the basement while Liam surveyed the situation. The problem seemed to originate in the boiler; the vine spiraled around the pipes, piercing through them before snaking into every hidden crevice it could find.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good thing it\u0026rsquo;s not winter,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Or you might\u0026rsquo;ve had a real problem.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This isn\u0026rsquo;t a real problem?\u0026rdquo; Owen asked darkly. \u0026ldquo;Look, are you going to be done with this soon? I have to pay for alternate accommodation for all of my residents if we can\u0026rsquo;t get this cleared up by tonight, and we\u0026rsquo;re talking about quite a lot of money.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eJian turned on a softbox light. It half-blinded Liam. \u0026ldquo;Do you mind?\u0026rdquo; he asked. \u0026ldquo;I need to be able to see what I\u0026rsquo;m doing here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You can manage,\u0026rdquo; Libby said. \u0026ldquo;Can you stand just a little more to the right? There. Good.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shook his head, then turned back to the vine. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s see how this goes.\u0026rdquo; He approached the thickest parts of the vine, and jabbed the silver nut cup at it. The vine screamed and turned to smoke. Belatedly, Liam pulled the neck of his shirt up over his mouth and nose.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Zoom in, zoom in!\u0026rdquo; Libby whispered to Jian.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s blocking it,\u0026rdquo; Jian said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re not getting anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam attacked more of the vine, and bit by bit the plant disappeared. After a few moments it began to grow back from the places where it had been previously vanquished, but much more slowly, and this time the eyes were smaller and sleepier.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can\u0026rsquo;t you be a little more\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. dramatic?\u0026rdquo; Libby asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. He evaporated another length of vine. \u0026ldquo;Oi, landlord, you\u0026rsquo;re going to need to do some preventive measures to keep this stuff away.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it? I\u0026rsquo;ll do anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Find a bunch of old silver and hang it around this level,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Bury it in the foundations, tie it to the pipes, doesn\u0026rsquo;t matter, just make sure to have something every ten feet or so.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And that should keep the problem from coming back?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Should do, yeah. The more silver you use, and the older it is, the better the protection.\u0026rdquo; He removed the last cluster of leaves in sight. This time, the vine didn\u0026rsquo;t make any sound.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOwen shook his hand vigorously. \u0026ldquo;I want you on retainer,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;If we run into a problem like this again I need to know I\u0026rsquo;ve got somebody to turn to.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Fine with me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We need to be your first priority,\u0026rdquo; Owen continued. \u0026ldquo;Of course we\u0026rsquo;ll pay for the privilege.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll take your money,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;but if there\u0026rsquo;s another giant dragon running around, that gets first priority, not you. It\u0026rsquo;s no use me getting rid of your gardening issues if the whole world is turning into teeth and tentacles in the meanwhile.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOwen considered this. \u0026ldquo;Fair,\u0026rdquo; he said at last. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll have my people draw up a contract.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby caught up with Liam outside. \u0026ldquo;We were just looking at the footage, and it\u0026rsquo;s terrible,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re blocking our view most of the time, and when there is anything on camera, it\u0026rsquo;s blobby and boring. Is there any way you can come up with something more spectacular? Something with a little more wow factor?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not really,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;We were lucky today.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby chewed on her bottom lip. \u0026ldquo;I see. If that\u0026rsquo;s the case, then\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. we\u0026rsquo;re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen Liam slipped into the school that evening, there was a light glowing from the gym. He followed it to its source, and found Sal alone on the mat doing crunches. She stopped when she saw him. \u0026ldquo;Want to go a few rounds?\u0026rdquo; she asked. \u0026ldquo;Been a long time since I punched you the way you deserve.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not now, it\u0026rsquo;s been a long day.\u0026rdquo; Liam rubbed the bridge of his nose, where the sour scent of that climbing plant had settled in his sinuses. \u0026ldquo;Listen,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;I have a favor I wanted to ask.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, Liam, you can\u0026rsquo;t borrow my sword.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe jumped. \u0026ldquo;No! No, I meant\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; That was exactly what he\u0026rsquo;d meant. \u0026ldquo;Just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. just for tomorrow, for a little bit.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam, if you took that thing into a fight I don\u0026rsquo;t know if you\u0026rsquo;d get murdered or cut your own feet off first. And anyway, the Maitresse gave it to me, not to you.\u0026rdquo; Sal rolled onto her belly and started doing push-ups.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam thought bitterly of the little sprig of plant the Maitresse had given him. Worst gift ever. He took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;Nobody will get hurt. I just need it for filming. As a prop, you know. I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t actually fight anything with it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not going to leave me alone until I say yes, are you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nope.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal groaned. \u0026ldquo;Fine, just get it back with both of you in one piece. And no scratches.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Deal.\u0026rdquo; Liam grinned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen he remembered Perry, and his illness, and how Sal still probably didn\u0026rsquo;t know about it. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t right, but he was in an untenable position. Liam\u0026rsquo;s brain ran like a hamster on a wheel, trying to find a way to tell her without telling her. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t his place, but she needed to know. The team had suffered enough from secrets.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd, well, Sal was saying how he needed to show more initiative.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey, one more thing.\u0026rdquo; He cleared his throat. \u0026ldquo;You check in on Perry the last couple of days?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sat up and tipped her head to the side. \u0026ldquo;Check in on him? Why would I\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She launched herself from the ground, concern written all over her face. \u0026ldquo;Liam, is something going on?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Talk to him,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. not well. You can probably still find him in the library with Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ve been keeping me away from there for a while, but I thought\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; She shook her head. \u0026ldquo;Thanks for telling me.\u0026rdquo; She grimaced. \u0026ldquo;Sorry for the joke about punching you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s fine,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. He looked away from the sweat beading in her collarbones. \u0026ldquo;Hey, do you know where Frances is?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She said something about coffee. Check the cafeteria.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances was wearing one of her usual long skirts this time, and no sign of the glittering paint from the other night, either. She was sipping coffee by candlelight, and leafing slowly through a book. He leaned in the doorway and watched her from the darkness for a few minutes. Her cheek was velvet in the low light, and the curve of her neck and shoulder graceful.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was a mystery, Frances. He might not be able to solve it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe knocked on the doorjamb, and she turned to see him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, Liam. Would you like some coffee?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sure.\u0026rdquo; He helped himself to a cup and sat across from her. \u0026ldquo;I was looking for you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam fidgeted with the handle of his cup. \u0026ldquo;I needed someone to talk to, and there aren\u0026rsquo;t a lot of ears right now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you picked me?\u0026rdquo; The reflection off her glasses shielded her expression from him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re smart,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;And I trust you to be straight with me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m flattered.\u0026rdquo; She pushed away her book. \u0026ldquo;So what is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stared at his hands. \u0026ldquo;Everything used to be so simple. Find the magic, punch it until it stopped, stick it in a bag, and go home. But now everything has changed. Sal and Grace are together and Grace is\u0026mdash;I don\u0026rsquo;t even know what\u0026rsquo;s going on with her. Mench\u0026uacute; is talking like he\u0026rsquo;s ready to lay down arms, Asanti is neck-deep in magic and sinking deeper every day\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Change isn\u0026rsquo;t always for the worse,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If you could take everything back,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;if you could have back\u0026mdash;you know,\u0026rdquo; he gestured at her legs, \u0026ldquo;would you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo; She smiled. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. becoming, Liam. Do you understand? I\u0026rsquo;m turning more into myself than I was before.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam did not understand. He looked at her warily and sat back in his seat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re changing, too, you know. You\u0026rsquo;re not as simple as you used to be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Am I not?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances laughed. \u0026ldquo;When we first met, I thought you were hot,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;And then I got to know you a little better and realized what an awful life choice you would be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat got his dander up. His shoulders crept toward his ears. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m flattered,\u0026rdquo; he said, but his tone was anything but flattered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure you\u0026rsquo;re the same person as that anymore, though,\u0026rdquo; Frances said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe scoffed. \u0026ldquo;What, so are you back to thinking I\u0026rsquo;m hot?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe smiled into her coffee. \u0026ldquo;Among other things.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen Sal arrived at the library, Asanti rushed to the entrance to meet her. \u0026ldquo;Sal! I\u0026rsquo;m so glad you\u0026rsquo;re here, we really need you to make a trip to the British Museum and collect a vial of\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;At this time of night?\u0026rdquo; Sal made an ostentatious show of looking at the watch she wasn\u0026rsquo;t actually wearing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti laughed nervously. \u0026ldquo;Science waits for no man!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is Perry here?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. \u0026ldquo;I need to see him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a bit of a rush, I\u0026rsquo;m sorry.\u0026rdquo; Asanti carried forward as though Sal hadn\u0026rsquo;t said anything. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m running an experiment and if I could get that sample right away, it would be a tremendous help to our research.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where\u0026rsquo;s Perry?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti blinked, at a loss for a plan B now that her plan A had evidently failed. Sal would\u0026rsquo;ve thought she\u0026rsquo;d be better at dissembling than that. She pushed past Asanti and into the library.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry?\u0026rdquo; she called. There was a rustling sound. She followed it to find Perry sitting on the floor among the stacks, surrounded by a swamp of picture books opened to illustrations of various insects. She took stock of his appearance: a little haggard, like he was hungover, and he had an\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. interesting\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. assortment of tiny rag dolls hanging around his wrists and neck. There was a cane leaning against the bookshelves, too.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you all right?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fine, fine, why do you ask?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal crossed her arms. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not going to get up to give me a hug?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe tried to stand, but staggered a third of the way up and sat down again, hard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So that\u0026rsquo;s fine?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked away. \u0026ldquo;Maybe less than fine. How did you know to ask?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A little birdie told me, but I would have figured it out on my own before much longer,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It was getting a little suspicious, the way Asanti\u0026rsquo;s been shooing me away from here. I\u0026rsquo;m insulted you think I\u0026rsquo;m such a bad detective.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal cleared away a stack of books with diagrams of crickets and sat down. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s going on, Perry?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s nothing.\u0026rdquo; He began to fold up the rest of the picture books, but awkwardly, like his hands weren\u0026rsquo;t properly connected to his wrists.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You were never a good liar.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe sagged. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a, like a magic allergy,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t want you to freak out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not freaking out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to handle my feelings for me,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m a big girl. Just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. tell me what\u0026rsquo;s going on, all right? All of it. When did it start? What exactly is wrong? What do we need to do to fix it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;Fine, fine.\u0026rdquo; He grimaced. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll begin at the beginning. It started a little while after London.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby asked Liam to meet her on a street corner just outside of Weird London two days later, in the midafternoon\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;to try to catch the golden hour,\u0026rdquo; she\u0026rsquo;d said. And she\u0026rsquo;d reminded him for the hundredth time: \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t forget that glowing sword of yours.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe didn\u0026rsquo;t actually \u003cem\u003ehave\u003c/em\u003e the glowing sword he\u0026rsquo;d borrowed from Team One, but he figured Sal\u0026rsquo;s would do just as well.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen Liam arrived, he found Jian napping in a canvas folding chair. The camera was already set up, and there was a veritable wall of other material mounded beside him on the ground: coils of garden hose, mason jars full of slime and fake blood, assortments of rubber insects and prosthetic tentacles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s all this about?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby grinned. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m a genius,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re going to do some dramatic reenactments.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If we can\u0026rsquo;t get the real thing on film,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;we\u0026rsquo;ll get\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. close enough.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is stupid,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not doing it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby raised an eyebrow. \u0026ldquo;Do you want to help teach people how to protect themselves from magic or not?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam took his sword out of the duffel bag where he\u0026rsquo;d stowed it. \u0026ldquo;Fine. What do you want me to do?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat she wanted him to do was exactly what he\u0026rsquo;d been afraid of. She splashed him with slime and blood, tickled his ribs with the fake tentacles and made him bat them away with the sword, asked him to pose in various stances that would be unbalanced and indefensible in a real fight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam kept up a steady stream of complaint, and in response Libby just gave him further direction: \u0026ldquo;Lift the sword higher. No, higher, all the way over your head. Now grimace, like you\u0026rsquo;re in pain.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam grimaced, all right.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Say something dramatic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Um\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. thinking.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhile they filmed, a crowd of onlookers gathered. They nudged each other and whispered commentary. Liam was sure they were talking among themselves about what an idiot he looked like.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFinally Libby asked him to take his shirt off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t do this,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Bridge too far? Okay, that\u0026rsquo;s fine, let\u0026rsquo;s just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam lowered his sword. \u0026ldquo;No, I think I\u0026rsquo;m done here. I can\u0026rsquo;t see how anything useful is going to come from this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt the edge of the crowd, the whispering turned into bellows and shouts. Liam turned and noticed that the crowd had grown thicker. Some were carrying signs, now, reading PURIFY LONDON.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSome of them had cudgels.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA burly man with a snake tattoo pushed his way to the front and loomed over Jian. \u0026ldquo;What bullshit is going on here?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Movie magic,\u0026rdquo; said Jian. \u0026ldquo;Be cool, man.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLibby put her hands on her hips. \u0026ldquo;Is there a problem?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s people like you that are keeping us from cleaning up London,\u0026rdquo; Snake Tattoo said. He shoved Libby. \u0026ldquo;I reckon we need to clean you up first.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oi, pick a fight with someone your own size,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. He stepped between Libby and the burly assailant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s him,\u0026rdquo; said a voice in the crowd. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s the Ginger Swordsman.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eJesus fuck, had everyone heard of him?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSnake Tattoo looked him over. \u0026ldquo;Is it true? You\u0026rsquo;re one of the ones who saved London? The Bookburners?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t burn\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Ah, hell, what did it even matter. \u0026ldquo;Yeah, I\u0026rsquo;m a Bookburner.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thought you\u0026rsquo;d be a lot taller,\u0026rdquo; said Snake Tattoo. \u0026ldquo;More muscles.\u0026rdquo; He frowned. \u0026ldquo;And I thought you\u0026rsquo;d be on our side. Are you some kind of a traitor to your own kind, then?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not a traitor,\u0026rdquo; said Liam. \u0026ldquo;You are.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSnake Tattoo swore and took a swing at Liam. Liam dodged it and laid a fist on the other man\u0026rsquo;s jaw. He went down like he\u0026rsquo;d been switched off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who wants a piece?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked. He picked up his sword from the ground. \u0026ldquo;Plenty more where that came from, and I\u0026rsquo;m not in the best of moods.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Get it on film,\u0026rdquo; Libby whispered to Jian. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t miss this!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTwo of the man\u0026rsquo;s allies rushed in to try to take Liam down. He drove the air out of one with the pommel of his sword, then turned and kicked the knees out from under the other. Some of their friends backed away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s your problem?\u0026rdquo; whined one of the Purifiers. \u0026ldquo;Do you want all of London to weird up?\u0026rdquo; He was thin and sallow like he didn\u0026rsquo;t get much sun. Suddenly Liam saw a path not taken. If he hadn\u0026rsquo;t been introduced to magic. If he hadn\u0026rsquo;t been possessed. If he hadn\u0026rsquo;t been a Bookburner.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOr\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. even after all of that, before he knew about Grace, before everything that had happened to Frances. He used to think magic was a manifestation of evil. But it was just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. change. Often change like a cancer, growing unstoppably out of control. But it was wrong to hurt a cancer victim for having cancer, and it was wrong to hurt a tentacle-Briton for having tentacles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMaybe he could punch their minds into changing. Or\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. he went through his options, trying to think of what Father Mench\u0026uacute; would want him to do; what Asanti and Frances might say. He thought about Sal, telling him he had to make his own decisions.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam turned to face the crowd, coated in fake ichor, raising his sword high above his head. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve all been hurt by magic,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Me more than most of you, I reckon. But the answer isn\u0026rsquo;t to turn into bullies, punching the ones who need help the most. You\u0026rsquo;re afraid? You feel helpless? Join the freakin\u0026rsquo; club. But there are a few things you can do to be safer, and if you\u0026rsquo;re done being idiots for one day, I\u0026rsquo;d like to teach you what they are.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e5.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe team gathered in the gym to watch the news that night. A few of Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s parishioners had teamed up to donate some comfortable furniture for the teachers\u0026rsquo; lounge, all of it banged up, shredded by cats, or otherwise thirty years past its glory days. Even the television was a cathode ray tube model, easily the size of an oven. Liam considered working with it a personal affront and muttered complaints to himself every second he had to spend on forcing it to work amicably with any modern input feed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut now they all watched the news together like a sitcom family from another era. The picture was grainy and the gum-and-duct-tape cable connection kept pixelating and cutting out, but they were riveted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe news showed some of Libby\u0026rsquo;s footage: Liam with his sword, which looked disappointingly like a curtain rod on film. The mob of protesters with their angry shouting and hastily made signs. A few of Frances\u0026rsquo;s friends lining up to face off with them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The increasing tension over how to deal with this year\u0026rsquo;s changes in London came to a flashpoint today,\u0026rdquo; said the anchor, a sober man with dignified gray sideburns. \u0026ldquo;But the actions of one brave man may prove to be a turning point in healing our shared wounds.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe screen showed Liam in profile, speaking earnestly about magic and danger. Liam studied the image, wishing he\u0026rsquo;d thought to put a little more time into shaving that morning; he\u0026rsquo;d missed a spot right by the curve of his jaw, and the way the light fell made it look like he was wearing penny earrings.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace laughed out loud. \u0026ldquo;Look at you, all grown up.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shut up,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You did good work, Liam,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. He clapped Liam on the shoulder. \u0026ldquo;I couldn\u0026rsquo;t be more proud.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you, Father.\u0026rdquo; Liam ducked his head. \u0026ldquo;That means a lot from you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA new face appeared on the screen: Hilary Sansone. A hush fell over the room. Sansone smiled blandly at the interviewer. \u0026ldquo;Of course it\u0026rsquo;s important for people to know how to safely deal with these unusual experiences,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;but we don\u0026rsquo;t need an army of vigilantes taking matters into their own hands. The only safe move is to run, and then call in the proper authorities. There are people who can help, and these so-called Bookburners aren\u0026rsquo;t anyone you can rely on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal booed and threw a pillow at Sansone\u0026rsquo;s placid face. The screen cut away to Liam saying, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m serious! We don\u0026rsquo;t really burn any books.\u0026rdquo; And then a commercial for a grocery store.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was still staring at the screen, rubbing a finger along her lips thoughtfully. \u0026ldquo;We should work with the schools to develop a program,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You were right, Liam. Really right. Ignorance has become vulnerability, not safety.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What would that program even look like?\u0026rdquo; asked Grace. \u0026ldquo;Beyond \u0026lsquo;don\u0026rsquo;t touch things that don\u0026rsquo;t look right\u0026rsquo;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, they teach \u0026lsquo;stop, drop, and roll\u0026rsquo; back home,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;There has to be something like that we could do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going to give this some serious thought,\u0026rdquo; said Asanti. \u0026ldquo;Putting up sandbags is one way to help people deal with the tide rising. But\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. so is teaching people how to swim.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam\u0026rsquo;s phone buzzed in his pocket. Caller ID said it was a laundromat, and he recognized the name. It was only a few blocks away, and had a rock-solid wash-and-fold service. Liam wrinkled his nose, thinking it a bit late to call if someone had forgotten to go get the team\u0026rsquo;s laundry for the week, but he picked it up anyway. \u0026ldquo;Hello?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hello. Are you the Bookburner? The one on TV? I got your number from a friend.\u0026rdquo; The voice on the other side was a young woman. Her voice was thin and nasal; nervous, so her vocal cords were tight. She sniffled into the phone like she\u0026rsquo;d been crying. \u0026ldquo;The one who helps people with their magic problems?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suppose I am. And I suppose you\u0026rsquo;re calling about a magic problem?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes. Yes.\u0026rdquo; The woman sniffed again. \u0026ldquo;My name is Gillian. My family owns the Frower and Sons Laundromat, and the washing machines have been giving us some trouble.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal raised an eyebrow at him in question. Liam waved her off. \u0026ldquo;What kind of trouble?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It sounds like they\u0026rsquo;re chanting? And if you put on the fresh laundry and close your eyes, you see visions.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Visions.\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; looked up at this, and pulled a pad and pen out of a drawer in the side table. He handed them to Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGillian whispered, like she could barely bring herself to describe it. \u0026ldquo;Knives. And blood. Rivers and oceans of blood.\u0026rdquo; She sounded like the personification of misery itself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLaundry machines chanting about oceans of blood? That was a new one. Liam began to scribble down notes. \u0026ldquo;Can\u0026rsquo;t imagine you\u0026rsquo;re seeing much business, then.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Certainly not.\u0026rdquo; Gillian sniffled again. \u0026ldquo;Can you help us?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Likely. I\u0026rsquo;ll have to come take a look before I promise anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Really? Oh, we would be so grateful, I can\u0026rsquo;t even tell you. What do you charge? We\u0026rsquo;ll pay anything. Money is no object.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam paused, the pen still in the air, at a loss for how to answer. \u0026ldquo;How much do I charge? What do you think is reasonable?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe night was going well enough until the whispers started. They were quiet, just a breath in his ear. But Eduardo shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have been able to hear anything over the pounding electronica beat, and certainly not the sound of his last name as clearly as if it were being chanted directly inside his brain: \u003cem\u003eTzampop, Tzampop, Tzampop\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNobody here should know his name.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe surveyed the Brooklyn dance club and tried to persuade himself he was in no danger. There was no scent of magic here, just a m\u0026eacute;lange of beer and cologne, threaded with a rich fabric of pheromones.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe had never been any good at lying to himself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe tried to get the attention of the bartender to order another drink, but he might as well have been invisible. No otherworldly explanation needed for that; he\u0026rsquo;d already figured out the bartender was a dick.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lights flickered. A young woman staggered into Eduardo and he tensed, but she was already apologizing, laughing, turning away. Not a threat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, anyway, and ran his thumb along the stone figurine inside. He felt a gathering of power, somewhere to the south of the club. It drew him like a magnet drew iron.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, if he was going to fight, he\u0026rsquo;d rather have some more fortification. He banged his fist on the bar, and the bartender\u0026rsquo;s attention snapped toward him. \u0026ldquo;Did you need something?\u0026rdquo; he asked, snide.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Gin and tonic, no ice,\u0026rdquo; Eduardo said. He left a crumpled bill on the counter and threw back the drink all in one. No ice but it still managed to be watered down. The bartender really was a dick.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo time for that argument, though. He shouldered through the crowd and out into the street.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was quiet here; no cars, no foot traffic. Good. No bystanders to get hurt. He walked toward the gathering of power, the stone figurine clenched in his fist. Each streetlight popped and went dark as he passed. Pigeons began to follow him, though they should have been asleep at this hour. They hopped along the building tops above him, sometimes brave enough to sail across the street over his head, but none of them drew close enough to mean anything. They just wanted to watch.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe scents of magic filled his nose, earth and smoke, meat and rot. He reached his destination: a playground. There were signs and signals drawn on the blacktop in chalk, and through them he could just see a twisting shape of flame and hunger. The hair on his arms stood up as the energy present here coursed through him. It was an abomination. If this doorway were left until dawn, then whatever demon was on the other side would be freed into the world. Maybe it was meant to devour children, or maybe Eduardo himself, or those close to him. It had to be stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEduardo knew it was a trap, of course. He was meant to stop this creature, and in so doing, weaken himself. But he had no choice but to walk into it now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, everyone had to die sometime.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m here,\u0026rdquo; he announced to the stars. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s get started.\u0026rdquo; He reached a foot forward and scuffed out one of the lines. It was like touching a live electrical line. Pain coursed through him as if his bones had been turned to acid. The demon screamed and clawed at him. As the portal closed, the creature tore away chunks of his spirit, shredded his shields and wards.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf this were not a trap, it would end here. Ah, but just as he expected: all around him a convergence of faceless figures. There were a dozen of them, and they had blocked him so he could not run. The pigeons cooed among themselves, perhaps placing bets on the outcome of this encounter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEduardo raised his figurine high, trying to collect scraps of starlight into something he could use. They had picked the right night for this trap; there was no moonlight to speak of. He could not raise a shield or a weapon, but he could lay a curse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My murderer will meet justice,\u0026rdquo; he said. Power swept out from him and settled on his assailants. And then he closed his eyes and waited. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t long. Something like a stone hit him, then another, and another. His back. His head. His shoulder. He fell to his knees, and then on his face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEventually the stones stopped. Eduardo\u0026rsquo;s blood seeped into the concrete, quickly and then slowly. The pigeons went back to sleep.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nPerry’s body became host to the angel Aaron, in addition to what remained of Sal’s brother. An epic battle in London left the city with a section now called Weird London, where magic is out in the open and can no longer be explained away. Liam struggled with a lack of direction after the Bookburners went rogue. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum.\u003c/p\u003e \n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Andrea Phillips\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.247","slug":"bookburners-s4e04","audio":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/audio/season4/BBS4E04.mp3","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E04.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E04.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E04.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 4"},{"id":"5ad4afc0f579f600014e272d","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":5,"title":"Hell Gate Bridge","released_date":"2018-07-18T11:55:01.283+00:00","released":true,"strapline":"A fresh murder brings Sal back to her old stomping grounds.","byline":"Brian Francis Slattery","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E05.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/dividers/bookburners_episode1_divider.png","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-07-18","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eMagic apocalypse or not\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought, \u003cem\u003eit still takes forever to get your bags at JFK\u003c/em\u003e. The airport was, as ever, under construction, with a new bit of the terminal meeting an old bit of the terminal meeting stretches of exposed drywall. The two hours getting through customs were almost soothing in their familiarity, a procedural ticker tape parade to welcome her back to New York, even if the officer did have a lot more questions for them than usual when she saw that Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; were coming from London. \u003cem\u003eYes, we have been in contact with magic. No, we don\u0026rsquo;t appear to have been infected. No, we have no extra appendages.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That last one was a joke,\u0026rdquo; the customs officer said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ha, ha,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. Mench\u0026uacute; didn\u0026rsquo;t so much as crack a smile.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDetective Collins was waiting for Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; outside the terminal, leaning against a gray Crown Victoria. He shot Sal an enormous smile and put his arms out, ready for a hug.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know you\u0026rsquo;re not fooling anyone with this car,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Only cops drive these things.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Cops or ex-cops,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;I like to keep them on their toes.\u0026rdquo; He wrapped his arms around her, patted her on the back like she was family. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s been too long,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;It has. You\u0026rsquo;re looking good. Thinner.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They got me running. Also, I stopped eating meat.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Saw a couple things a while back that turned me off,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;You cut your hair.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not on purpose. So they got you on the NYPD magic squad now?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins chuckled. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s new enough that they haven\u0026rsquo;t even figured out what to call it yet. But yeah, magic squad. Makes sense now that we\u0026rsquo;re seeing an uptick in cases.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And they assigned you to it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I volunteered,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;After what happened with you and your brother? Just couldn\u0026rsquo;t quite get it off my mind. How is your brother, by the way?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eI don\u0026rsquo;t know\u003c/em\u003e, Sal wanted to say, but didn\u0026rsquo;t. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s okay,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Hanging in there.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t we all,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey left the airport and were instantly stuck in traffic on the Belt Parkway. Another thing that never changed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How are you all doing around here?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You mean with the magic?\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Oh, not bad. We\u0026rsquo;ve seen some things, for sure. Nothing like what you\u0026rsquo;ve seen over in London, I bet, but we\u0026rsquo;ve got our share. There\u0026rsquo;s a building in Jackson Heights that\u0026rsquo;s turned into a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. well, a foot, is the best we can make out, though who knows where the rest of the body is. There\u0026rsquo;s a spot under the FDR where things don\u0026rsquo;t come out once they go in. And we see our people who have changed, or who have been changed. I don\u0026rsquo;t know how to say it, but you know what I mean. Not only melted arms or extra eyes. People that just seem off, like they spent a minute in the microwave or something.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like drugs, but different,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Though you hit it on the head\u0026mdash;it\u0026rsquo;s different, but it\u0026rsquo;s like something we\u0026rsquo;ve seen before, you know? It\u0026rsquo;s new, but it\u0026rsquo;s not.\u0026rdquo; He wiped his mouth with his hand. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. Right after London, when the first few things happened around here, the press had a field day with it. Everyone was scared. But within a week or so the \u003cem\u003ePost \u003c/em\u003eand the \u003cem\u003eDaily News\u003c/em\u003e were putting puns in the headlines again. You know how it is. People can\u0026rsquo;t be on high alert forever. Eventually, even if the church on the corner is made of hair and your sister\u0026rsquo;s an ostrich, you still got to make rent on the first of the month.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal laughed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s just good to see you. It\u0026rsquo;s good to be here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA white Lexus sedan cut in front of them and Collins laid on the horn.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;d think with all the magic going around, someone would whip us up another westbound highway out of JFK. But no,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. In the stopped traffic, he turned to Sal and Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;You need a nap? Cup of coffee?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shook his head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, we\u0026rsquo;re all right,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Because we only have one exit to go.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s our first stop?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The morgue,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe medical examiner pulled out the drawer supporting the body of Eduardo Tzampop like she\u0026rsquo;d had a long day. She peeled the sheet away. Sal saw Mench\u0026uacute; take a small step back. The face looked as if parts of it had been turned to clay and then pressed down upon. Other parts looked half liquid, and she was seeing it as it ran, oozed, resettled. It looked less like a face and more like a child\u0026rsquo;s drawing of a face. She compared it to the photograph of Tzampop that Collins had handed her. There was almost no connection.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How did you know it was him?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the interesting thing,\u0026rdquo; the examiner said. \u0026ldquo;When the body first came in here, he was entirely recognizable. In fact, aside from the fact that he was dead, it was hard to tell there was anything wrong with him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s the cause of death?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Besides hocus-pocus?\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;The best we have is cardiac arrest right now, because it most fits what we see. But we know, of course, that it didn\u0026rsquo;t occur naturally.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Especially given what\u0026rsquo;s happening to him now,\u0026rdquo; the examiner said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And what would you say that is?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe examiner looked Mench\u0026uacute; in the eye. \u0026ldquo;Please don\u0026rsquo;t think I\u0026rsquo;m callous for saying this, but the best analogy I can come up with is that he\u0026rsquo;s melting like a piece of wax. Every day I need to check on him because every day, there\u0026rsquo;s a little more to clean up. It\u0026rsquo;s not just soft tissue, either. The bones are softening up fast, too. If this rate of deterioration continues, I think in a week or so we\u0026rsquo;ll just have a kind of\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. pudding here. Again, I\u0026rsquo;m sorry. I can\u0026rsquo;t think of a better way to say it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s okay,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. Sal realized he was almost consoling the doctor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Have you seen this before?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Specifically this kind of liquefaction? No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;But changing form? Yes. All the time. That\u0026rsquo;s what makes it seem like magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe medical examiner blinked. \u0026ldquo;I hadn\u0026rsquo;t thought of it that way, but you\u0026rsquo;re right,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve had bodies that have turned papery. Bodies that have become plants. Bodies that burst into bunches of feathers. I suppose I was getting hung up on the details. But the details are irrelevant, maybe. It\u0026rsquo;s the change that matters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think so,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you saying we\u0026rsquo;re changing the cause of death?\u0026rdquo; Collins asked the medical examiner.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m saying it\u0026rsquo;s worth putting something in the notes about what happens to the body after death,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;A new category. Magical metamorphosis?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Works for me,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal was feeling more and more at home. \u0026ldquo;So other than knowing someone struck him dead with magic,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;there are no more clues on the body as to who might have done it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins shook his head. \u0026ldquo;Nothing we could find.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about his apartment?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s our next stop,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Hope you see something we didn\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe apartment building, on the corner of a busy intersection, loomed dark with soot, prickly with fire escapes that had been painted over too many times. The lock on the front door was busted. The window on the first landing of the staircase was foggy and cracked, the glass held in place by the wires shot through it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal noticed Mench\u0026uacute; was looking at the tiles on the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This was a nice place once,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Weren\u0026rsquo;t they all,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey took the stairs to the second floor and Collins pointed down the hallway. \u0026ldquo;There,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Where the door\u0026rsquo;s open.\u0026rdquo; Hip-hop pounded from a radio. Collins raised his voice. \u0026ldquo;Reynaldo? You in there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, we\u0026rsquo;re both here,\u0026rdquo; a voice yelled back. \u0026ldquo;Come on in.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal, Mench\u0026uacute;, and Collins stepped into a three-bedroom apartment that was even farther away from seeing good days than the lobby was. A smell of mold from the bathroom wafted through everything, over the smell of dirty laundry from one of the bedrooms, pot smoke from another. In the living room at the end of the hall they found Reynaldo, a skinny young man sprawled on a red couch\u0026mdash;the only furniture in the room\u0026mdash;playing a video game with the sound turned down low. Another man sat on the floor, talking on his phone. He sounded annoyed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;These are Eduardo\u0026rsquo;s roommates,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ve been very helpful.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal recognized the sign on the third door on the left, the one the police put up to explain to the neighbors that it was a crime scene, that they should keep out. Collins donned rubber gloves, then put his hand against the door.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not as warm as it used to be.\u0026rdquo; He pushed the door open. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t take more than a step in here, okay?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey entered Eduardo Tzampop\u0026rsquo;s room, or what was left of it. A foot or so beyond the doorway was still recognizable as a typical New York apartment, an old hardwood floor, white plaster walls. But then the floor got soupy. A breeze blew in from the open window on the other side of the room and the floor rippled a little in response. A small flurry of tendrils grew out of the peaks of the waves, hovered in the air, and subsided. The walls around them sighed, leaned out from each other. That was when Sal realized there wasn\u0026rsquo;t a ceiling. Over their heads was a night sky, not so much black as dark purple. Pink stars moved overhead, like phosphorescent algae floating in a lazy current. Under the noise from the traffic outside, Sal was sure she could hear something else, something like animals calling, though they weren\u0026rsquo;t the calls of animals she\u0026rsquo;d heard before. The pitches were either too high or too low, and they moved in strange patterns.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You hear it, too?\u0026rdquo; Collins asked. \u0026ldquo;For reasons that may be obvious, we haven\u0026rsquo;t really been able to investigate this room thoroughly. You guys have anything for that? Special suits or something?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Historically, we were less interested in examining things than in containing them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Updated job description for you these days, huh?\u0026rdquo; Collins asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You could say that,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The good news here,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;is that it doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem like there\u0026rsquo;s much to examine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right,\u0026rdquo; Collins answered. \u0026ldquo;As far as we could make out, Tzampop paid rent here, but it doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem all that lived-in.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He didn\u0026rsquo;t have a bed?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There wasn\u0026rsquo;t one when we got here,\u0026rdquo; Collins said, \u0026ldquo;and there still isn\u0026rsquo;t. No clothes. No nothing. Well, nothing except that he opened a portal to Wonderland through the ceiling.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about his roommates?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They met him at a party just five days ago. He said he was looking for a room for real cheap. They had one after their previous roommate got busted for possession.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Weed?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Heroin. Tzampop moved in here the next day. They said he always kept the door closed and they only saw him coming or going a couple times.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Does that mean he was always in there or always out?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Out, it sounds like,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Or maybe he didn\u0026rsquo;t have to take the stairs to leave the building, if you know what I\u0026rsquo;m saying.\u0026rdquo; Collins smiled a little. Sal could tell he was enjoying his new beat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe roommate who had been on the phone passed in the hallway, ducked his head in through the door.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t really let you do that,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s still no ceiling in here,\u0026rdquo; the roommate said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Does the landlord know?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, I think he must, since the super saw it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fuck,\u0026rdquo; the roommate said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m moving out of here in two months and I really need my security deposit back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ll get it,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know our landlord very well, do you?\u0026rdquo; The roommate headed out the door. From inside Tzampop\u0026rsquo;s room, they all heard the game sounds stop. Then Reynaldo appeared in the doorway.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I kept waiting for Eduardo to leave so I could get a peek in here,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said. He nodded toward Sal and Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;Are you two magic specialists? Like the Ghostbusters?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sort of,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can I trust them like I trust you, Collins?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You can trust all the crew who come here to carry out the investigation,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what you think,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay, fine,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;The biggest reason you can trust Sal here is because she knows what she\u0026rsquo;s doing and she\u0026rsquo;s an old partner of mine. And this guy\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Arturo Mench\u0026uacute;,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u0026mdash;is from the same country Tzampop was from, which counts for a lot. Between the two of them and what we know already, I think we may be able to open up a fresh direction on this case. Can you help us?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eReynaldo paused. \u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Eduardo and I were together.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Since when?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Since five days ago. Not exclusively.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But exclusive enough that he started renting this room from you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Exclusive enough that he told me a few things,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said. \u0026ldquo;First, that he was here illegally, and that he was staying out of the Guatemalan community, staying away from anyone who had any ties to where he had been.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;At first he said it was because nobody there could keep up with him, which made sense. The way he was partying, I could hardly keep up with him myself. But then, a couple days later, he told me he was really doing it to protect his magic friends. He knew he wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to be around much longer. He knew somebody was coming for him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And how did he know that?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Um,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said. \u0026ldquo;I think it was the magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And when you say \u0026lsquo;magic friends,\u0026rsquo; what does that mean?\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You mean club kids?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said. \u0026ldquo;I mean other people who do spells. Not nearly as much as Eduardo was doing in here, I don\u0026rsquo;t think. But\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. you know.\u0026rdquo; He wiggled his fingers in the air.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And do you know where these magic friends of his are?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He never told me,\u0026rdquo; Reynaldo said. \u0026ldquo;Sorry.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t apologize,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You did a good thing telling us what you know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eReynaldo looked at the floor. \u0026ldquo;I was wondering if you could do me a favor,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;I know he doesn\u0026rsquo;t have any real friends or family here, so he\u0026rsquo;s going to be buried\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. wherever. Do you think I could see him first?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; put his hand on Reynaldo\u0026rsquo;s shoulder. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s better if you don\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know, I\u0026rsquo;m a little relieved,\u0026rdquo; Collins said to Sal when they were back out on the street. \u0026ldquo;Half of me thought you were going to get off that plane in wizard robes, a magic wand in one hand and a crystal ball in the other. Bring Eduardo back to life and make him tell us who did it. Cast a spell and put his apartment back to normal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You thought you were going to be outgunned?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Pretty much,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;I thought maybe watching your investigation was going to show me why the way we do our job is obsolete now. But it\u0026rsquo;s not like that, is it? You\u0026rsquo;re up to speed here. You\u0026rsquo;ve seen everything I have. And it just boils down to good old-fashioned police work.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;it does.\u0026rdquo; Sal caught his glance\u0026mdash;approving, proud.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;m glad you\u0026rsquo;re both here. It\u0026rsquo;s been a big help. Clarifying. It seems to me that the next step is to talk to people in the Guatemalan community and see what they know. Reynaldo says Tzampop didn\u0026rsquo;t spend any time with them, but I\u0026rsquo;d bet someone knows just enough to give us our lead in figuring out who his other friends were. And why he was avoiding them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m happy to help any way I can,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m counting on it,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll find these magic friends of his,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;One way or the other. So\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe saw Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s face change in a flash, from calm to surprise. He was looking over her shoulder. She felt his hand on her back pushing her down to the sidewalk, then felt him fall on top of her. A sound like a faraway jet engine cut through the air. A small heat wave passed over her with it, and then a window in front of her broke. Flames lit up inside the building.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; started to get up, scrambling for cover behind a few trash cans. Sal rolled, pulled out her pistol. Collins was already returning fire. She followed his gaze. There were three people halfway down the block striding toward them, one in a white coat, one with a red bandanna on his head, the last one wearing bright blue shoes. \u003cem\u003eRed, white, and blue\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought. \u003cem\u003eWelcome back to America.\u003c/em\u003e Blue\u0026rsquo;s right hand was emitting smoke, and as Sal watched, she saw that it was starting to glow. Whatever had started the fire, she must have thrown it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRed broke into a run, and as he got closer, he got bigger. Blockier. Heavier. It looked to Sal like his skin was starting to harden under his clothes, and she realized that if she waited too long, he might be bulletproof. Collins saw the same thing. The two cops made eye contact just long enough to give each other permission, and started emptying their pistols into Red. It was as Sal feared. The first couple bullets, which she\u0026rsquo;d aimed at his legs to stop him from running, made contact and bounced off. He kept coming. She saw that Collins had hit his stomach with a couple bullets, also to no effect. Sal had heard stories about things like this, about cops being charged at by people too hopped up on drugs to feel the bullets entering them, and something more drastic had to be done. This was different\u0026mdash;but it was the same, too. A family ran out onto the street from the apartment building behind them, a mother and three kids, screaming and panicking. They must have come from the apartment that was on fire. Mench\u0026uacute; was already trying to usher them to safety by taking them across the street, around the corner, to put a building in between them and the shootout. But they were still in harm\u0026rsquo;s way. It made the decision easier. She aimed for Red\u0026rsquo;s head and started firing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure whether it was her bullet or Collins\u0026rsquo;s that got Red in the eye, in the mouth, but those were the ones that did it. Red\u0026rsquo;s expression changed from determined, building into rage, to blank, and he dropped to the sidewalk, blood pouring out of his mouth. She imagined that the bullets she and Collins fired got in through the soft tissue that remained, but couldn\u0026rsquo;t get out again, and they must have just ricocheted around in Red\u0026rsquo;s skull, pureeing his brain . Maybe they were still moving around in there. Whatever the case, there were two attackers left.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBlue raised her right hand, and a bolt of light shot out of it, toward Collins. He dodged, but it must have nicked him, because his jacket was now on fire. He dropped to a knee and with his free hand, began pulling it off. Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t waste any more time. She had three more bullets in her pistol and she put them all into Blue, who apparently didn\u0026rsquo;t have defenses like Red did. Sal aimed for the legs, trying to make her shots non-lethal, and succeeded. Blue dropped. Collins had his coat off, finally, and shot White four times, also in the legs.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re under arrest!\u0026rdquo; Collins yelled, running over to cuff them. Blue and White looked at each other and Blue nodded. White chanted out a series of syllables at the top of his lungs. His voice split into two voices, then four voices, a cacophony of voices that grew ragged as it rose in dissonant pitches. Blue screamed too. They writhed and jerked on the pavement. Whatever White was doing was hurting them both, a lot. In a final, gargling shout, both attackers crumpled into themselves, as if all the air had been expelled. Then, with a wet squelch, they turned inside out, in a leaping slurry of intestine and disconnected muscle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh God,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSirens blared on the next block over. Someone\u0026mdash;the escaping family, a neighbor\u0026mdash;must have called. The fire engines took the corner behind them fast, and within minutes, the firefighters were dealing with the flames. The police were right behind them, the officers leaping out of their cars when they saw the carnage in the street. Collins flashed his badge.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We need the coroner,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Three suspects down.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I only see one,\u0026rdquo; the lead officer said. Then took a second look. \u0026ldquo;Oh,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins nodded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Someone waved another magic wand?\u0026rdquo; the officer said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Looks like,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll file my report.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey stopped at a Salvadoran restaurant Collins swore was the best deal in the borough, ate pupusas, and talked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So, tell me about what just happened,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;the magic they were using was\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. small.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Very small,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;It almost seemed like they didn\u0026rsquo;t quite know what they were doing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The woman shooting fireballs out of her hand seemed pretty competent to me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For most of the things I\u0026rsquo;ve seen since joining up with Mench\u0026uacute;,\u0026rdquo; Sal told him, \u0026ldquo;a pistol wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have worked.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like it almost didn\u0026rsquo;t work on the first guy,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Kind of like that,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you\u0026rsquo;re telling me we\u0026rsquo;re going to need much bigger guns.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;But also that you might need to develop new tactics that don\u0026rsquo;t rely on firepower.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You mean like community policing?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Actually, maybe a little like that,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She caught Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s eye. He was looking at her again with approval, with pride. Doing a lot less of the talking than he had in the past. Letting her do more. It felt good.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re getting ahead of ourselves,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;We still have the Guatemalan community to talk to about Eduardo Tzampop. But it seems to me that we\u0026rsquo;re now dealing with people who aren\u0026rsquo;t just targeting Tzampop and the people who knew him. I\u0026rsquo;m pretty sure we just got attacked because whoever killed Tzampop has been staking out his place, seeing who comes around to investigate. They\u0026rsquo;re not afraid of us. They\u0026rsquo;re targeting us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which means we have a lot of people to warn,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It also means someone might just come forward for protection,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins smiled. \u0026ldquo;I hope so.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;let\u0026rsquo;s get the word out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe call came at 2:47 a.m. In the hotel room, Sal fumbled for her phone, picked it up. It was Collins.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought you might not even be asleep,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Get a cup of coffee. We have our break.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe precinct office was quiet. A bored officer sat behind the bulletproof glass in the lobby, too tired to be friendly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re here to see Collins,\u0026rdquo; Sal explained.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe officer shook her head. \u0026ldquo;He does this shit all the time, waking people up in the middle of the night for something that could wait until morning. Hold on. I\u0026rsquo;ll come get you.\u0026rdquo; She got up and walked out of sight, then opened a door to Sal and Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s left. She ushered them down a long, narrow hallway of brick walls and fluorescent lights, motioned to her right.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s in here,\u0026rdquo; the officer said. \u0026ldquo;Have a nice night.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins was sitting in one of the interrogation rooms with two young men and two young women who looked like they\u0026rsquo;d just come from a club.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You got here quick,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;These are some friends of Tzampop\u0026rsquo;s who say they know something.\u0026rdquo; He gestured toward a few empty chairs. Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; took them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You want to know who killed him,\u0026rdquo; one of the young women said. One of the young men sniffed, a small laugh of appreciation. \u0026ldquo;Yeah. We might know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s your name?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Myra.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m Sal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know who you are,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re a Bookburner. They say you\u0026rsquo;ve changed sides\u0026mdash;that you use magic now. Is that true?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who are \u003cem\u003ethey\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know,\u0026rdquo; Myra said, walking it back. \u0026ldquo;People talk.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So tell me what you know, Myra,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I already told Detective Collins, here,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tell her again, if you don\u0026rsquo;t mind,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;I think she needs to hear it from you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Besides, it\u0026rsquo;ll help me get the statement right,\u0026rdquo; said the other young man, who was busy writing on a police form.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Scott,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m serious,\u0026rdquo; Scott said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Collins exchanged glances. They both knew how to read people like this. The four of them were laughing, screwing around a little, because they were nervous. They might not be able to give a clear story, but they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t lie to the police, either.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;Scott, Kells, Howard, and I\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;here Kells and Howard, who hadn\u0026rsquo;t said a word, both gave little waves\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;have been dabbling in magic ever since London. Nothing serious. We\u0026rsquo;ve been keeping it under control. We\u0026rsquo;ve used it to freeze the water in a glass into ice. We\u0026rsquo;ve floated some keys. That sort of thing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What have you been using to do this?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A book,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;We got it from a friend.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What kind of friend?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was getting to that,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;So far the biggest thing to come out of our getting into magic has been meeting other people who were into magic, which was how we met Eduardo.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tzampop,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right, though we didn\u0026rsquo;t know his last name. We just knew him as Eduardo, and we knew he was much better at magic than anyone we\u0026rsquo;d met so far.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like, way better,\u0026rdquo; Scott said. \u0026ldquo;As if he\u0026rsquo;d been doing it his whole life.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He might have been,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You saw his room?\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We saw what was left of it,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was the ceiling still open?\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And was there anything\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. above you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No. Just space. A void.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra took a deep breath. Her lip quivered. \u0026ldquo;Then they\u0026rsquo;re gone,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who\u0026rsquo;s gone?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra looked at the table. Her eyes welled with tears that she fought back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It doesn\u0026rsquo;t matter now,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do they have to do with Eduardo\u0026rsquo;s death?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;They had everything to do with Eduardo\u0026rsquo;s life.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see. And you\u0026rsquo;re not to tell us what you\u0026rsquo;re talking about?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nope,\u0026rdquo; Myra said, shaking her head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eScott took a break from writing to put a hand on Myra\u0026rsquo;s shoulder. \u0026ldquo;Keep going.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra wiped the tears from her eyes. \u0026ldquo;A lot of people were afraid of Eduardo because of what he could do, but we didn\u0026rsquo;t see any reason to be afraid. Not if we approached him with respect. And he taught us things. Said he\u0026rsquo;d help us learn how to use more magic. And what he was already showing us\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We were ready,\u0026rdquo; Scott said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;We didn\u0026rsquo;t know him very long, but he was so open with us, so generous. When the rumors started\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What rumors?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How much do you know about magic?\u0026rdquo; Myra asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Try us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you know about someone called the Maitresse?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She was killed recently,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;After she was killed, there were rumors everywhere that her death was just the beginning. That someone was interested in taking over, and that meant anyone who knew more than they did about magic had to go.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Meaning Eduardo.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We were so worried about him. We told him all the time that he needed protection. He said he could protect himself. We shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have believed him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think there was anything you could have done?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll never know,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But after he died\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Scott started. He was still writing on the police form.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;After he died, we started an investigation ourselves. Asking around. Seeing who might know something.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sounds familiar,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And it turned out someone not only said he did it, he bragged about it. You know, took responsibility for the killing. Claimed it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like a terrorist,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes. Like a terrorist. This guy calls himself the Ranger. No idea what his real name is. But he said he\u0026rsquo;d received a mission and he\u0026rsquo;d carried it out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like a mission from God?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;More like a contract.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why would he brag about it like that? Is he stupid?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think it\u0026rsquo;s more that he feels impervious. The balance of power in the world of magic is shifting. You know that, right?\u0026rdquo; Myra said. Sal nodded. Myra continued, \u0026ldquo;He thinks he\u0026rsquo;s on the right side of it, and when magic really starts taking over, he\u0026rsquo;s going to end up on top, or something close to it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you mean, when magic starts taking over?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked at him. \u0026ldquo;Later,\u0026rdquo; she said. She turned back to Myra. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s marking his territory, then.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Something like that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And do you know where to find him?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra nodded. Scott was close to the bottom of the page. \u0026ldquo;Where?\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t the officers supposed to be asking the questions?\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come on, that\u0026rsquo;s the last thing the statement needs. Anyone can see that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s on the Lower East Side,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;Pretty close to that vortex thing under the highway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Figures,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Can you get me an address?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHoward reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulled out a small, rolled-up piece of paper, and handed it to Collins.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You saw that question coming, didn\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHoward nodded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins turned back to Myra. \u0026ldquo;Anything else you might want to add?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not that I can think of.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I guess we\u0026rsquo;re done here, then,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Thanks for coming in. You\u0026rsquo;ve been very helpful.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what happens now?\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well,\u0026rdquo; Collins said, \u0026ldquo;if you feel you need protection, we can offer that to you. But otherwise, my best advice is that you stay home and lie low for a bit.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about the Ranger?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s officially part of our investigation now, which means you should steer clear of him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra fell silent. All four of Eduardo\u0026rsquo;s apprentices\u0026mdash;Sal realized that was the right word for them\u0026mdash;stared at Collins. They weren\u0026rsquo;t happy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;We all want justice to be done here. We\u0026rsquo;re all on the same team. But this isn\u0026rsquo;t \u003cem\u003eWest Side Story\u003c/em\u003e, where your gang goes against their gang, okay? You did the right thing by coming to the police with this. We can handle it from here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can you?\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;Do you have your own magic squad now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins laughed. \u0026ldquo;Everyone keeps calling it that. We have what we need.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re talking about a man who they say can turn bullets into steam,\u0026rdquo; Scott said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hopefully it won\u0026rsquo;t come down to bullets,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t bet on it,\u0026rdquo; Myra said. \u0026ldquo;The Ranger isn\u0026rsquo;t much of a talker.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;His Miranda rights will suit him just fine, then,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Thank you again. Do you know your way out?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We can find it,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins waited until he heard their footsteps around the corner, then he shut the reinforced door to the hallway.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Guess we have a house call to make,\u0026rdquo; he said to Sal and Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey stood at the end of the block on the Lower East Side, watching an apartment building rock back and forth on its foundation.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is the wind blowing it?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Looks to me more like a boat at a dock,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what\u0026rsquo;s our move?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shot Mench\u0026uacute; a glance and he gave her a slight nod back, of deference.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s as we\u0026rsquo;ve been saying since we landed,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;In the end, police work is still police work.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;After you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stepped forward and rang the buzzer. A gurgle spread from the button, sent a slow ripple through the walls, through the glass, as if the building had a slight case of indigestion. The speaker over the button shuddered. Its grate parted in the middle, softened, formed a mouth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you want?\u0026rdquo; the speaker said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;NYPD,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re here to talk to the Ranger.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe speaker sucked in air and began murmuring to itself, the pitches rising and falling, a little singsong.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is he here?\u0026rdquo; Collins asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Pipe down, I\u0026rsquo;m checking,\u0026rdquo; the speaker said. It exhaled. \u0026ldquo;All right, he\u0026rsquo;s here. You can come in. Apartment 3F.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door in front of them sagged on its frame, then melted into the floor. They were free to enter. The tiles felt soft beneath their feet. The staircase swayed beneath them like a rope bridge. On the second floor, a baby\u0026rsquo;s cry from behind an apartment door headed upward in pitch and split into two pitches, then dove down to a tone a baby couldn\u0026rsquo;t make. They hit the next flight of stairs a little faster and made the landing just as a man in a black baseball cap opened the door to 3F.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you the Ranger?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nope,\u0026rdquo; the man in the cap said. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s in here.\u0026rdquo; He turned back into the apartment. \u0026ldquo;Ranger!\u0026rdquo; he shouted. \u0026ldquo;Police are here to see you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe apartment was suffused in a low, warm glow coming from the walls themselves. Above, the ceiling swirled. There were six other people milling around the place, just hanging out, it seemed, though Sal noticed a clawed hand here, a purple eye there. A woman who Sal was pretty sure had wings folded up on her back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That way,\u0026rdquo; the man in the cap said. \u0026ldquo;In the bedroom.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Ranger, dressed in leather, his hair dyed platinum, a stripe of blue painted across his eyes, was seated on a sagging couch, legs crossed, arms spread out. An old standing lamp leaned at an angle to his left. A boy was curled up on a mattress pushed against the wall. It smelled in there\u0026mdash;musty, a little rotten.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good morning, officers. You look tired,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Long couple days,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What can I do for you? This isn\u0026rsquo;t about my magic use, is it? I know I\u0026rsquo;ve made some changes to the building, but as far as I know, I\u0026rsquo;m not on the wrong side of the law on that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There are no laws about it yet,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Though I\u0026rsquo;m guessing you already knew that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Ranger smiled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve come to ask you about Eduardo Tzampop,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What kind of name is that?\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Guatemalan,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; answered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re going to tell us it doesn\u0026rsquo;t ring a bell,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Eduardo. Used a lot of magic. By all accounts, did it really well. Probably better than you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Never heard of him.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The people who use magic are a close community,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We know that. It\u0026rsquo;s close enough that you probably know who I am. People talk, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Ranger narrowed his eyes. \u0026ldquo;I might know who you are,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Bookburner.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So how about you stop bullshitting us?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay, fine,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;Eduardo. Sure, I know who he is. Or should I say, was? Word got around when he died.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Word got around?\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;I hear you were the one saying it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow the Ranger was frowning.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Somebody snitch?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe floor beneath them rippled a little. The boy in the corner started screaming into the wall.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You talk like that because you think being police protects you,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;You have no idea. A higher power has arrived, one that will bring you earthly powers to your knees.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe air around the Ranger wavered, as if some signal had gone out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In fact, there\u0026rsquo;s no need to wait any longer, is there?\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe leapt from his seat, and his body changed in midair. His torso got thinner, his legs got longer. He was still talking, but Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t understand him anymore. She pulled out her gun. Collins did the same. The Ranger pounced, like a giant cat, and brought Collins to the floor, knocked the gun from his hand. Then the Ranger\u0026rsquo;s head changed shape, grew a long snout with jagged teeth, like a crocodile. The head swiveled, the mouth opened, ready to tear Collins\u0026rsquo;s neck open. But Mench\u0026uacute; was there first. He took two long steps and gave the Ranger a kick in the face that made his head snap sideways. The Ranger fell off Collins, a little disoriented, and Collins wasted no time getting to his feet and then falling onto the Ranger, using his full weight, pinning him to the floor. Collins reached for his cuffs as the Ranger began to writhe.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door flew open. It was the Ranger\u0026rsquo;s people, changed, too. They had new eyes and new skin. Their limbs bent in new ways. The boy still faced the wall, screaming. Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t be sure, but as the goons in the doorway surveyed the scene, they seemed to be laughing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey surged into the room. Sal emptied her gun in their direction, but it didn\u0026rsquo;t stop them. They got their hands on Mench\u0026uacute; first and drew him into their midst, and Sal lost sight of him. She dropped her gun and ran toward them. She had a second to assess the situation and a single thought flashed through her mind: \u003cem\u003eIf only Grace were here.\u003c/em\u003e For so many reasons. She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to die in this crummy apartment, didn\u0026rsquo;t want to see Mench\u0026uacute; or Collins die. But there was nothing else to do.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe windows blew in with a howl, and a new set of screams filled the air, not of fear, but of rage. Now the room was almost too full of people to see. Sal had a chance to discern that three more attackers had joined the fight, and they were shifting shape too fast to get a sense of what they were. They were really good at it. They changed the shapes of their skulls to dodge punches, wove their torsos into twirling ropes so that kicks aimed in their direction only met air. One of them grew a limb to pick up one of the Ranger\u0026rsquo;s fighters and smash him against the ceiling. Another grew tentacles to wrap around another goon and constrict him into submission. Two of the newcomers ganged up on a third of the Ranger\u0026rsquo;s men to jackhammer him to the floor with a series of blows. Those first three goons imploded within seconds of each other. That was enough for those that remained. They turned around and ran out, leaving only Sal, Mench\u0026uacute;, Collins, the Ranger, and their saviors.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who are you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey melted back into their original shapes: Myra, Scott, and Kells. The boy on the mattress, at last, stopped screaming. \u0026ldquo;You said you only did a little magic,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Party tricks.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMyra shrugged.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I told you this was official police business,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. Sal could tell he was trying to be stern, but he couldn\u0026rsquo;t hide his gratitude.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re not sorry,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where\u0026rsquo;s Howard?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We posted him outside. If they called in reinforcements, we would have, too.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have reinforcements?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;More every day,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Mind if you\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. start teaching me a few things?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s eyebrows rose.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;You got to change with the times, right? And speaking of which.\u0026rdquo; He nodded down toward the Ranger, whom he was still sitting on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You managed to get the cuffs on him during all of that?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Priorities,\u0026rdquo; Collins said. \u0026ldquo;Though my main priority was keeping him alive during all\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. this.\u0026rdquo; He waved a hand in the air, making witchy fingers. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t implode on me,\u0026rdquo; he said to the Ranger. \u0026ldquo;I want to know what\u0026rsquo;s going on here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you offering a deal?\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;I give up who hired me to kill Tzampop if you give me a lighter sentence?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I have to work out the details,\u0026rdquo; Collins said, \u0026ldquo;but yes, something like that might be a possibility.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll tell you right now if you take these handcuffs off me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCollins looked at Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come on,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not going to run off on you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSomething about his tone of voice made Sal believe him. He had given up. Sal nodded to Collins, and he took off the cuffs.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tell me what you know about the Swedes,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re kidding,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Ranger shook his head. \u0026ldquo;Nope.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who are the Swedes?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A family called the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms. Playboy types on the magic circuit,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s a circuit?\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And they\u0026rsquo;re on it. I had no idea they were capable of\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. well, much of anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re not,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re just rich enough to buy what they want.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And what do they want?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The same crap rich douchebags around the world are always after. More. More money, more power, more whatever. They saw how magic was reordering the game, how if they didn\u0026rsquo;t adapt, they\u0026rsquo;d be left behind. They saw how the Maitresse was asserting her leadership, and they didn\u0026rsquo;t like it. The decision to off her was easy, or so they told me. It got even easier when they remade the acquaintance of Mr. Norse. It was so easy to turn that lunatic loose. They didn\u0026rsquo;t pay more than a dime. Then, when \u003cem\u003eyou \u003c/em\u003ehad the gall to off \u003cem\u003ehim\u003c/em\u003e, they realized they were going to have to do it the old-fashioned way. Well, old-fashioned for them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They hired help,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You got it. Put out a bid for a contract. Guess I came in the lowest, because I got the job. I knew I\u0026rsquo;d lowballed myself pretty bad when they said yes right away. Should have doubled my fee.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So Tzampop was a threat to them,\u0026rdquo; Collins said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just because he was so good with magic. He didn\u0026rsquo;t want to go after the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms. As far as I know, he didn\u0026rsquo;t want to leave his apartment much except to go dancing. But he was too good with magic. I sent twelve people after him, you know that? And only six came back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You sound like you respected him,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I did. I hated killing him, but the money was too good to pass up. All the magic I know how to do now, and I still haven\u0026rsquo;t figured out how to print bills or make gold.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So why are you telling us all this?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because of the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;I just don\u0026rsquo;t like them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe doubled over, fell to his knees. Sal knew what was happening.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t do it,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no reason not to,\u0026rdquo; the Ranger said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ll have me killed anyway once word gets out about what happened here. At least I can go out on my terms.\u0026rdquo; He looked up at Sal. \u0026ldquo;Take care of my kid, okay?\u0026rdquo; And with a shout, the Ranger collapsed in on himself, then bloomed outward in a splash of blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe boy in the corner started to turn around.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t look,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt took a few hours for Sal, Mench\u0026uacute;, and Collins to file the police reports they needed to wrap up their case. The Ranger had confessed. The thread was tied off. Tzampop\u0026rsquo;s disciples said they\u0026rsquo;d take Collins up on his request to learn more about magic. They didn\u0026rsquo;t know much, but they\u0026rsquo;d do what they could. Sal saw an opening.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You could join us,\u0026rdquo; she told them. \u0026ldquo;Run around the world dealing with magic. See and do things you could only dream about.\u0026rdquo; She felt like she was recruiting them for the Foreign Legion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey scuffed their feet. \u0026ldquo;Thanks, but we\u0026rsquo;ll take our chances here,\u0026rdquo; Myra said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Mench\u0026uacute; called London and told them what they\u0026rsquo;d learned. Within an hour, Liam called back. He and Frances had asked around and learned that the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms were vacationing in a small hotel in the Loire Valley in which, it appeared, they had booked all the rooms. Hiding in plain sight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;See you in Paris,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Bring the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s gifts with you,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She could just about hear Liam\u0026rsquo;s frown on the line.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Your sword, I can see,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Maybe even Grace\u0026rsquo;s vial, and Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s cross. But the plant? You want me to bring the plant?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just do it,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t know what they do\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Except for yours, Sal. We know what yours does,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fine. But it seems to me that we\u0026rsquo;re getting that much closer to understanding why the Maitresse was killed. She should be there with us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Mench\u0026uacute; got tickets for a midnight flight and headed back to JFK. Outside the terminal, from the corner of her eye, Sal caught a man lighting a cigarette by snapping his fingers. A woman in line to check her baggage was moving three large suitcases around by herself with just a little too much ease. There were tiny intrusions of magic here, and there would be more. But it still took way too long to get through security, and the flight was delayed. It was going to take more than magic to get rid of the bureaucracy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wanted to say that I\u0026rsquo;m glad you and Grace have found each other.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you,\u0026rdquo; she said. It seemed Mench\u0026uacute; was inclined to talk more, but Sal wanted to be careful. \u0026ldquo;It means a lot coming from you,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How so?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eDamn\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought. \u003cem\u003eHe\u0026rsquo;s not going to make this easy, is he? \u003c/em\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;I always thought there might have been some history between you two.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;History?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;No, no. There never was any history. I\u0026rsquo;m too old for her now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or she\u0026rsquo;s too old for you?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;One of the two.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But when you first met?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was when I was taking my vows as seriously as I have ever taken them,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;My convictions will perhaps never be so sure again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you suggesting that if things were different\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shook his head. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no use speculating on how it might have been if things were different. Was there a spark between us when we first met? Of course there was. It was a connection that only deepened. You could say I fell in love with her. It tested my vows. It tested my convictions that I was doing what was right. But even then, to act on my feelings would have felt too much like a betrayal, not only of my priesthood, but of my relationship with her. She depended on me too much. It would have been far too strange. Another kind of possession, you could say.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;you could.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And as the years went by, that kind of thinking stopped mattering. Like I said, I got too old.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not that old,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Old enough to sift through my feelings and arrive at a place where I\u0026rsquo;m glad you\u0026rsquo;ve found each other. She needs something else\u0026mdash;someone else\u0026mdash;who can give her more than I can now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re talking like you\u0026rsquo;re about to retire,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m thinking that way. But not tomorrow.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who knows what will happen tomorrow?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Exactly,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;I want to see things through. I want to follow the road we\u0026rsquo;re on for as long as I can. But today, in the Ranger\u0026rsquo;s apartment, when the people attacking us closed in around me, I knew\u0026mdash;really knew this time\u0026mdash;that if no one came to help me, I was not going to make it. Ten years ago, even five, I had a chance. Not now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I understand,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know you do,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;And you will, more and more. I\u0026rsquo;m grateful to have found you, the way I\u0026rsquo;m grateful to have found Grace. I think you will be better than I ever was at carrying on the work.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Except that we\u0026rsquo;d all have been killed back there if those kids hadn\u0026rsquo;t disobeyed police orders.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t even think that way,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;All I know is that we came here and we did our part, and there\u0026rsquo;s still more to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think that\u0026rsquo;s all we\u0026rsquo;re doing sometimes?\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Playing a part?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; laughed. \u0026ldquo;If we are, I still don\u0026rsquo;t know what the script is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe rest of the team was waiting for Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; outside the Orly terminal in Paris. Liam had rented a van, a little older than it needed to be, but Liam said he wanted the space. There he was in the driver\u0026rsquo;s seat; he honked when he saw them. Grace, leaning against the side of the van, smiled and walked toward them, her arms open. She gave Mench\u0026uacute; a hug, short but warm. Then she wrapped her arms around Sal and gave her a long kiss.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I missed you,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We really could have used you in New York,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But here you are.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Here I am.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam honked the horn again. He was saying something that Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t hear from where she was, but from the look of it, it was probably long, complicated, and sarcastic. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t quite done as Sal jumped into the back of the van, threw her luggage over the back seat. Grace climbed in next to her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;have an international crime syndicate to bust up that isn\u0026rsquo;t getting any smaller,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. Mench\u0026uacute; took the passenger seat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace put her hand on the seat in the space between them. Sal covered it with her own.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What kind of hotel are we talking about?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a disgustingly boutique hotel in a small village. You know, one of those cute villages along a small country road that\u0026rsquo;s just an hour\u0026rsquo;s biking distance from the next small village. The descriptions I found of the hotel inform you that it has been a functioning way station for travelers from Paris for four hundred years,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s nauseating.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I would have pegged the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms for a castle or a chateau.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My thought is that it has something to do with them wanting to get drunk somewhere in town and then stagger home at night through impossibly quaint winding streets,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;God, I hate them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were already free of traffic and out on the highway. An hour passed. Another. Neither Sal nor Grace had moved their hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s very pretty here,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam sighed. \u0026ldquo;Yes, it is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe village they drove into was just as Liam feared, well-kept buildings drenched in history lining tidy narrow streets. They left the car a few blocks from the hotel, which Liam said sat at a busy intersection at the center of town. There it was, a three-story building, yellow with painted shutters, rows of neat windows.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is it me,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;or does everything here seem normal?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA few cars drove by, keeping their speed down. Two bellhops at the hotel entrance were staring at their phones. There was no threat, no guard to speak of.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is the most normal place I\u0026rsquo;ve seen in weeks,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe the defenses are magical,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She felt in her pocket and took out the vial of water, her gift from the Maitresse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s warm,\u0026rdquo; Grace answered. She began to open it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Be careful,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why?\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;It was the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s gift to me.\u0026rdquo; She put it to her nose. \u0026ldquo;It smells\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. really good.\u0026rdquo; Without hesitation, she brought the vial to her lips and took a sip. Then blinked. Blinked again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wow,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not the hotel\u0026rsquo;s defenses that are magic,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s the entire hotel.\u0026rdquo; She handed the vial to Sal. \u0026ldquo;Here, take a sip.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal took it. In an instant the vial went cold, and a smell, undefinable but strong, came out of it. Skunk? Burning tires? She did not like it at all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think it\u0026rsquo;s only for you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ll just have to content yourself with your magic sword,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I hope you brought your gift,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam rolled his eyes. \u0026ldquo;I have it,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;though who knows what good it\u0026rsquo;ll do us.\u0026rdquo; Sal looked over at Mench\u0026uacute;, who touched the cross at his neck.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you see?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. a lot of magic around here. A \u003cem\u003elot\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is it going to hurt us?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Only one way to find out,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She walked toward the hotel, then turned and looked over her shoulder, in a gesture that conveyed annoyance but which Sal found adorable.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You coming?\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no need to be coy about this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe four of them approached the hotel. Sal found herself waiting for a flash of light, a keening noise. By now, some creature should have burst from the earth, or descended from the sky. But there was nothing. One of the bellhops looked up from his phone and, seeing they had no luggage, smiled and nodded. The other bellhop didn\u0026rsquo;t even seem to notice them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was the hour for a late lunch, and Sal could hear silverware clinking against plates from the dining room, syllables uttered that were neither English nor French. A ma\u0026icirc;tre d\u0026rsquo; stopped them at the entrance to the dining room, surely explaining that this was a private affair and that the dining room was closed to casual visitors. Liam answered in French. It was clear to Sal that he was trying to smooth-talk his way in, and that it wasn\u0026rsquo;t working. The ma\u0026icirc;tre d\u0026rsquo;s tone became a little harsher, more insistent. Liam\u0026rsquo;s tone became more plaintive. It was a fight and he was losing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve had enough of this,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, and pushed the ma\u0026icirc;tre d\u0026rsquo; aside. Mench\u0026uacute; gave him a little smile as he followed her in.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Engstr\u0026ouml;ms were there\u0026mdash;three of them, two women and a man, all of whom Sal recognized\u0026mdash;the siblings. They were at a long table with two large men in black suits, the universal uniform of private security guards. Around them were heaped plates of meat and cheese and several bottles of wine, four of which were empty. The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms looked like they\u0026rsquo;d been there for hours. The body language of the two guards, their profound boredom, suggested they\u0026rsquo;d been there for even longer. As Grace approached, one of the guards rose to his feet and the youngest Engstr\u0026ouml;m\u0026mdash;Povel\u0026mdash;looked up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How dare you,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;This is a private party.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Looks that way to me,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She stopped. Sal and the rest of the team flanked her. The other bodyguard rose. To Sal it felt a lot like a standoff.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow Gala spoke. \u0026ldquo;Who are you and what are you\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; She caught herself midsentence. \u0026ldquo;I recognize you,\u0026rdquo; she said to Liam. \u0026ldquo;I recognize all of you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re the magic crew from the Vatican,\u0026rdquo; the other sister said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve gone through a lot of trouble to find you. Though not as much trouble as you\u0026rsquo;ve caused. Let\u0026rsquo;s start with the Maitresse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe three Engstr\u0026ouml;ms all froze at the sound of the name. It was all but an admission of guilt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Povel, did you tell anyone about that?\u0026rdquo; the first sister said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. to my recollection,\u0026rdquo; the brother said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Povel is drunk,\u0026rdquo; the other sister said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, you\u0026rsquo;re drunk, Gala. You and Ingrid are both drunk,\u0026rdquo; Povel said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have a lot of death to answer for,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel surveyed the intruders in front of him without hiding his contempt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re interrupting us,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Do you understand? I am speaking in English so you understand. But do you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala caught the eye of one of the bodyguards.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Take care of them,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bodyguards moved in unison.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Um,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Do you see what I see?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Two bodyguards?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But do you see what\u0026rsquo;s behind them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s behind them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded, making a decision. \u0026ldquo;Okay,\u0026rdquo; she said. She began to blur. She leapt past the guards, arms out in front of her. To Sal, it then appeared that Grace collided with something in midair, something that she sat astride. She was pounding it with her hands. She jerked left, jerked right, as if being struck. Then she flew toward the ceiling and smashed against it, crashed to the floor, and got up again. Leapt again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal drew her sword. The bodyguard closest to her pulled his long jacket aside to reveal a sword of his own, which he drew as well. The blade was thicker, its edge more jagged, yet in the bodyguard\u0026rsquo;s hand, it seemed light. He moved it through the air as if he\u0026rsquo;d been training. Sal held her own sword a little higher. She realized she didn\u0026rsquo;t really know what she was doing with it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bodyguard lunged, sword held point out. Sal thought about how nice it would be if she knew how to parry.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe sword parried, taking Sal\u0026rsquo;s arm with it, guiding it. At once, it felt like an extension of her arm, as though she\u0026rsquo;d been sword-fighting her entire life. As if she could do anything she wanted with it as long as she could visualize it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bodyguard lunged again and she parried. Parried again. She swiped at him herself. It was a clumsy move. She understood that she might know what to do with this sword, but she hadn\u0026rsquo;t known quite what she wanted to do with it in that moment. The bodyguard saw an opening, raised his own blade over his head, and came down on Sal\u0026rsquo;s sword hard, with enough force to bring her to one knee. The bodyguard delivered another smashing blow that Sal parried. She parried again. Had a chance to look at Mench\u0026uacute; and Liam, who were contending with the second bodyguard. He had a sword as well, but Mench\u0026uacute; and Liam outnumbered him. They were staying out of the reach of the blade, trying to get around him. Grace was flung across the room and smacked into the wall. She fell to the floor, bounced up again, and flew forward, stopping and hovering\u0026mdash;on a part of her adversary, maybe, but it was hard to be sure.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s opponent was still bearing down on her. She could fight him off but her newfound swordsmanship alone was not going to get her out of this. Something else would. She swept her foot out and tripped the bodyguard, who fell and recovered his stance but not quite his breath before Sal pressed her own attack. Now she and the sword were working together. Sal had the ideas. The sword had the execution. She thrust and buried her sword\u0026rsquo;s point into the bodyguard\u0026rsquo;s fighting arm. He howled and dropped his own weapon, sank to his knees.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are you doing?\u0026rdquo; Povel yelled. \u0026ldquo;Get up and defend me!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t pay me enough,\u0026rdquo; the bodyguard said. Sal turned to see that Liam had gotten behind the second guard and put him into a full nelson, sloppy but effective. He was bringing the guard to the floor as Mench\u0026uacute; wrested the sword from the guard\u0026rsquo;s grasp. Grace was still wrestling in the air with something, but not for much longer. She wrapped her arms around whatever it was and made a move as if she were tearing something apart. A long, eerie whine escaped from the air nearby, and Grace first sank, then dropped to the floor, landing on her feet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala and Ingrid joined hands, raised their faces to the ceiling. They started a two-toned chant that rose and fell in distant harmonies. Before Grace could get to them, a slit opened in the ceiling, widened like an eye. Light poured out of it, over the sisters. They rose into it and the eye closed, leaving their brother looking irate, perplexed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What were you fighting over there?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Be glad you couldn\u0026rsquo;t see it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel looked around the room, then at Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They left me,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Can you believe those bitches left me? Before you ask, I\u0026rsquo;m not telling you where my sisters went. They could have gone anywhere.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal heard a rustle from near the doorway. It was Liam\u0026rsquo;s plant, on the floor where he\u0026rsquo;d left it. It looked a little bigger than it had been in the car, and the vines were waving in a small frenzy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have got to be joking,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Go get it,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You go get it,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think we\u0026rsquo;ve figured out by now that our gifts are for us alone.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam sighed and picked up the plant, which grew just a little more. Its vines were stretching toward Povel, still seated at the table.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If you\u0026rsquo;re trying to threaten me,\u0026rdquo; Povel said, \u0026ldquo;it\u0026rsquo;s not working.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam put the plant on the table in front of Povel. The plant sprouted tendrils that attached themselves to Povel\u0026rsquo;s face. Povel started to scream as the tendrils crawled into his mouth, into his nose. They curled around his cheeks and entered his ears, moved upward and slid around his eyes. Povel twitched, twitched again, then sat there, unmoving. Paralyzed, maybe.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Now what?\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shrugged.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stepped toward the plant and more tendrils grew. He reached for the pot and the new vines wrapped around his wrists. Not like handcuffs. Like hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh my God, this is awful,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. Then suddenly, \u0026ldquo;Oh!\u0026rdquo; It wasn\u0026rsquo;t a cry of disgust, but of surprise, wonder. He looked at Sal. \u0026ldquo;I can see into his thoughts. Into his memories.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All of them?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Just a couple at a time. But I can look around.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tell us what you find.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing useful yet. My God, this man drinks a lot. Wish we had one of the sisters instead of him. He really does seem to be just the dumb kid brother. Ah. Wait. Okay. Here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, the bad news is that he wasn\u0026rsquo;t lying\u0026mdash;he doesn\u0026rsquo;t know where his sisters have gone. Not specifically. But the good news is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. also bad news. It\u0026rsquo;s not just the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms. It\u0026rsquo;s a network of people. Mr. Norse. The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms. A group of people in China. People elsewhere, too, it looks like,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a conspiracy,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;I think Liam had it right before. It\u0026rsquo;s an organized crime network.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which means this thing never really ends?\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which means we need to move fast,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;before they know we\u0026rsquo;re on to them and disappear.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or before the infighting starts,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shook his head. \u0026ldquo;Leave it to people, you know? The ship is sinking all around, and some of us are still ready to slit someone else\u0026rsquo;s throat over who gets to sit in first class when it goes down.\u0026rdquo; The plant tendrils were receding, freeing both Liam and Povel, who was passed out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So where\u0026rsquo;s our next play?\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think we have to wait just a little bit for that,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good old-fashioned police work.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe police arrived ten minutes later, a couple officers, one with a large moustache. They were relieved to find that Sal was police, too, even though she needed Liam to translate. She explained about not just the disturbance in the hotel dining room, but the murder she had personally investigated in New York, the possible connection to a string of murders elsewhere. It took a few hours for the police to process it, to put Povel in holding. It was another day before the bureaucracy caught up to the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms on the run. By then, it was too late. The notice came in that the sisters had cleared airport security, that they had slipped through customs, and boarded a flight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nIn her old life, Sal was a detective in the NYPD, working under her mentor, Detective Collins. She left the NYPD to work for the Society after her brother Perry got involved with a wicked bit of magic. Father Menchú questioned his path after leaving the Vatican. At the Maitresse’s impromptu Market Arcanum, the Bookburners ran into Povel Engström, who had once tried to capture and own Grace. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eDetective Collins\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s former boss in the NYPD.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Brian Francis Slattery\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.248","slug":"bookburners-s4e05","audio":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/audio/season4/BBS4E05.mp3","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E05.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E05.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E05.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 5"},{"id":"5ad4b007f579f600014e272e","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":6,"title":"O'er the Deep Blue Sea","released_date":null,"released":false,"strapline":"The search for a storied magical artifact lands the Bookburners in a race against time.","byline":"Margaret Dunlap","featured":false,"coming_soon":true,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E06.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-07-25","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Loosen your grip! You\u0026rsquo;re swinging that sword like it\u0026rsquo;s a club!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If the Maitresse had left me a silver-plated club, I\u0026rsquo;d be using that instead!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal would have found it hilarious that Liam of all people was critiquing her sword-fighting technique if it hadn\u0026rsquo;t been so damned annoying. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t like he\u0026rsquo;d had any training beyond the YouTube videos she\u0026rsquo;d caught him watching in the middle of the night, and the shambling heaps of moldering produce emerging from the dumpster behind the local Tesco hardly demanded the fencing skills of the Dread Pirate Roberts.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A sword is a tool of finesse, not butchery.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;These are plants. It\u0026rsquo;s not butchery.\u0026rdquo; Well, they had started out as plants. Really, they should have brought machetes. Sal lopped off a protruding lobe and watched a dark substance ooze out in a steady flow. Ichor? Was that what ichor was? Regardless, the sliced-off bit fell to the pavement and lay there, inert and stinking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hey, Liam? Are these all connected?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam paused his attempt to batter a blob of moldy cabbages and pulled a knife out of his pocket. He scraped the blade across the stringy tendrils that trailed back to the dumpster. The pile of cabbages collapsed. \u0026ldquo;Looks like it.\u0026rdquo; He paused. \u0026ldquo;This means someone\u0026rsquo;s going to have to go into the dumpster and slice through whatever\u0026rsquo;s at the center of this, doesn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Technically, this is your op,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. The call had come in through Liam\u0026rsquo;s Ghostbusting business. \u0026ldquo;You should claim the glory of the final kill for yourself by right of seniority.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or I could use my seniority to appoint you dumpster-slayer-in-chief.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You could. But know that if you do, I will take all possible glory. There will be none left for you. None.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Keep talking like that, and I won\u0026rsquo;t dive in after you when you need someone to save your arse.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal hacked herself a path to the edge of the dumpster and climbed up to stand on one half of the lid. Something banged beneath her feet, trying to throw her off. She looked into the open side and kind of wished she hadn\u0026rsquo;t. \u0026ldquo;You won\u0026rsquo;t let me die,\u0026rdquo; she told Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah? Why not?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because Grace would kill you in your sleep.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;True. Now quit stalling and jump.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal rolled her eyes, held her sword with one hand, pinched her nose with the other, and jumped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe trigger for this particular London hotspot was\u0026mdash;to Sal\u0026rsquo;s mild surprise\u0026mdash;a book. Namely, a paperback copy of \u003cem\u003eAnimal Farm\u003c/em\u003e with so many notes and underlines that Sal guessed it must have been thrown into the nearest rubbish heap as soon as its owner had completed the exam on it. Maybe the imperfect vegetables had started reading it as they rotted in the dumpster and decided to try their hand at collective living. It made as much sense as anything else these days in London. When shutting the book didn\u0026rsquo;t make a dent in the vigor of the local flora, Sal stabbed it through the cover with the tip of her sword. It shuddered until she gave blade a vicious twist, at which point the book exploded in a burst of light and a truly horrifying amount of slimy vegetable matter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBy the time Sal climbed out of the mess, a small crowd had gathered. Maybe not as large as it would have been a few weeks ago. Certainly not as large as it would have been before \u0026ldquo;the Incident,\u0026rdquo; as people now called it inside the city. A few Tesco employees were already putting up cones and wondering aloud if decontamination meant that they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have to come in for work the next day. The city had hastily assembled divisions to clean up after particularly nasty magical hotspots. Bleach might not be proof against magic, but it could definitely help with the residue it left behind. Sal sniffed her hair as she boosted herself up to the lip of the dumpster; it was grown out so it was just long enough to fall in her face, but not quite long enough to be able to pull back. She would have to decide soon if she was going to grit her teeth through the annoying in-between stages until she had long hair again, or find a hairdresser she liked in London and keep it short. In three years, she\u0026rsquo;d never found one in Rome.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal banished hair worries to the status of secondary concern as she spotted Grace slicing through the crowd. She reached her side just as Sal slid to the ground. Grace leaned in for a kiss, and just as quickly withdrew. \u0026ldquo;God, you stink.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam pushed me into a dumpster full of animated rotting vegetables.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom somewhere behind Sal, Liam shouted back, \u0026ldquo;I did not!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you want me to kill him in his sleep?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No. Father Mench\u0026uacute; would give you his \u0026lsquo;I am very disappointed\u0026rsquo; look.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s true.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sighed, and coughed a bit as she caught a whiff of herself. \u0026ldquo;God, I stink.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; said Grace, \u0026ldquo;but I love you anyway.\u0026rdquo; She leaned in again; this time their lips met. Turned out, when you really concentrated on kissing, you didn\u0026rsquo;t need to breathe that much. When they broke apart, Sal turned triumphantly to Liam. \u0026ldquo;See? All the glory. All of it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam sighed. \u0026ldquo;Get a room,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Preferably one with a lot of running water in it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal couldn\u0026rsquo;t think of a single flaw in that plan. \u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBetween on-site cleanup and giving her statement to the authorities, it was late by the time Sal got back to HQ, and even later by the time she had had her much-needed shower and thorough shampoo. Concentrating more on toweling her hair dry than watching where she was going on her way back to her room, she didn\u0026rsquo;t see Perry until she nearly ran into him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe was standing in front of a closed door, staring at the knob like he\u0026rsquo;d forgotten what to do with it. Which made Sal\u0026rsquo;s heart hurt, because it was entirely possible that he had. He gave no indication he\u0026rsquo;d noticed she was there, even though she\u0026rsquo;d stopped only inches from him. Sal kept her voice low, not wanting to startle him. \u0026ldquo;Hey, Perry,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor a moment, he didn\u0026rsquo;t respond, and Sal worried that he had lost not just doorknobs, but words. But at last he said, \u0026ldquo;Hey, Sal.\u0026rdquo; He cleared his throat. \u0026ldquo;How long have I been here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. I was just coming back from the bathroom.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe looked at her then. Taking in the T-shirt and yoga pants she slept in, her wet hair, the damp towel. \u0026ldquo;You can\u0026rsquo;t wash off the magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe not. But at least I can wash off the smell.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe smiled. It was her brother\u0026rsquo;s expression, but a smile he hadn\u0026rsquo;t used since they were teenagers. \u0026ldquo;You can try, stinkface.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe had been doing that more lately, losing the thread, then picking it back up again from an entirely different moment of his life. Every time it happened, Sal\u0026rsquo;s heart broke a little more. was watching her little brother go senile, and he was only in his twenties. She tried to smile back, but she could tell he wasn\u0026rsquo;t buying it. There were so many things she should tell him before it was too late. If it wasn\u0026rsquo;t too late already. Instead of any of them, though, she said, \u0026ldquo;Are you looking for your room?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I think I was going to see\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Asanti?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Okay. Then let\u0026rsquo;s go find her together.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry scowled. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t talk to me like I\u0026rsquo;m a child.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe sounded like a petulant teenager again, but his anger was easier to face than his confusion. More familiar. They\u0026rsquo;d fought for so long, over petty things that shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have mattered. Sal rolled her eyes and joined him where he was. \u0026ldquo;Then don\u0026rsquo;t get lost, booger-breath.\u0026rdquo; If this was the brother she had left, she would take what she could get.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Staring at it won\u0026rsquo;t make it burn slower. Trust me, I\u0026rsquo;ve tried.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal turned to see Grace watching her from the doorway. She felt her cheeks color in embarrassment, feeling irrationally like Grace had caught her at something. But of course she hadn\u0026rsquo;t. They shared a bedroom. Living with Grace meant living with her candle. It was only natural that Sal would look. She pushed any thoughts about her dying brother and her girlfriend\u0026rsquo;s measured mortality firmly to the back of her mind, and covered her embarrassment with a question. \u0026ldquo;You can burn faster, but not slower?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded. \u0026ldquo;Asanti and I did some experiments when I first joined the team, before she lost interest in Project Grace. She thought it had something to do with the linear nature of time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s expression must have looked as blank as she felt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Think of time as a river, and each one of us is in a boat moving with the current. When we all move together, it\u0026rsquo;s like we\u0026rsquo;re not moving at all. I can move faster, use more of my time than the world and the rest of you will catch up, but if I try to go slower than the current\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried to picture what she was describing. \u0026ldquo;From our perspective it would look like you were moving backwards?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And that would create a paradox, or something else not good, or just give everyone a headache because it would be so confusing. I got the metaphor, but the explanation was a little fuzzy. Anyway, I can\u0026rsquo;t do it.\u0026rdquo; A pause. \u0026ldquo;Does it bother you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The candle?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal paused. Grace had insisted that they didn\u0026rsquo;t have enough time to lie to each other, but the answer wasn\u0026rsquo;t as simple as yes or no. \u0026ldquo;If you didn\u0026rsquo;t have it, you would probably have been killed by that Russian, Antopov. Even if you\u0026rsquo;d survived him, you wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have wound up in the packing crate where Father Mench\u0026uacute; found you, which means you wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have joined the Society or been on Team Three, and we never would have met. Without the candle there is no us. And I\u0026rsquo;m glad there\u0026rsquo;s an us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But it\u0026rsquo;s a bit intense to watch my life get shorter every day?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I knew I signed up for that. Day to day, it\u0026rsquo;s more the little things that I\u0026rsquo;m still getting used to.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace frowned. \u0026ldquo;Little things like what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal squirmed. \u0026ldquo;Well\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. You get cold at night. I mean, if I wake up at two in the morning and the candle is out and you\u0026rsquo;re beside me, you\u0026rsquo;re cold and it\u0026rsquo;s like\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. it\u0026rsquo;s like you\u0026rsquo;re dead. And sometimes your eyes are still open a little slit, because the candle went out before you got them closed all the way, and I know that leaves your eyes all gummy in the morning, so I slide them shut and\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Sal struggled to finish her thought. Grace sat quietly, the candle burning away. \u0026ldquo;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;And I feel like I\u0026rsquo;m practicing for when you really are dead and I have to do that and you\u0026rsquo;re not going to wake up again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace slid in to sit beside Sal on the bed, arm curling around her shoulders. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not your fault. Like I said, I don\u0026rsquo;t get you any other way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe we should go back to having separate rooms.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shook her head. \u0026ldquo;No. I like sharing a bed. I like snuggling with you. I love that you trust me enough to let me see you that vulnerable. That you know I\u0026rsquo;m going to light the candle again in the morning and that I won\u0026rsquo;t\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I don\u0026rsquo;t know\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. draw a dick on your face while you\u0026rsquo;re asleep.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I saw that in a movie once. Do people really do that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know what I mean.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace lay down, pulling Sal with her. Sal felt Grace curl against her back, even though she was usually the big spoon. \u0026ldquo;Do you want me to put it out?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can blow it out from here.\u0026rdquo; Grace\u0026rsquo;s breath was warm against Sal\u0026rsquo;s ear. \u0026ldquo;After you\u0026rsquo;re asleep.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to use your time waiting for me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t mind.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace waited until she was sure that Sal was sleeping soundly before she slid from the narrow bed. Outside in the crisp autumn night, she let her feet pace as restlessly as her thoughts, breath smoking in the glow of the streetlights. She stopped by the bank of the Thames to watch the pink water flow inexorably to the sea. She ignored the shrill protest of her conscience that this was a decadent indulgence, unworthy of her time. That feeling wasn\u0026rsquo;t hers; it was the legacy of years under the thumb of the Vatican. She remembered a priest\u0026mdash;not Arturo\u0026mdash;explaining to her earnestly: \u003cem\u003eYour life is special. Your time precious. It should only be used for precious things.\u003c/em\u003e Why had it never occurred to her that she might be a precious thing?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsking herself questions she already knew the answers to. Now there was an unworthy use of her time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Does she make you happy?\u0026rdquo; Grace flinched at the familiar voice. A moment later, Hilary Sansone stepped out of the shadows to join her at the rail. \u0026ldquo;I always wondered what you would do with your time, if you had the choice,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are you doing here?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. \u0026ldquo;Looking for someone to do your dirty work again?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSansone didn\u0026rsquo;t answer at first, watching the water instead. Grace was ready to walk away when she said, \u0026ldquo;For the record, I hope she does. Happiness is hard to come by, and personally, I always thought you deserved better than one day off a year.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If you objected professionally, I never heard about it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because I never did.\u0026rdquo; Sansone met Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes without a trace of guilt. \u0026ldquo;To answer your question, the Society has a problem. When I told Fox I had a possible solution, he was wise enough not to ask for details he would be happier not knowing. As for my dirty work\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. This probably qualifies. But you should say yes anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;According to my sources, the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are attempting to procure an artifact of power hidden in the Himalayas. I think you\u0026rsquo;ll agree that the world would be a better place if your team got to it first.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t you have a new Team Three to take care of things like that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA grimace. \u0026ldquo;Unfortunately, this object is in a mountain that is part of the disputed border between Bhutan and Tibet.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. \u0026ldquo;And the Chinese are still blocking the Society from entering the country. What makes you think they\u0026rsquo;ll let us in?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No reason, but if you\u0026rsquo;re caught, the Vatican will disavow your group, and given our recent history, there\u0026rsquo;s a chance the Chinese government will actually believe we mean it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, isn\u0026rsquo;t that fucking heartwarming?\u0026rdquo; Liam observed to no one in particular as Grace relayed Sansone\u0026rsquo;s reasoning to the rest of the team. She had woken Sal and the others are soon as she returned, and they gathered around cups of tea in the school\u0026rsquo;s canteen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked even less pleased, although for different reasons. \u0026ldquo;I assume that if we find this \u0026lsquo;object of power\u0026rsquo; for the Society, Sansone expects us to hand it over?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shook her head. \u0026ldquo;She said no. They\u0026rsquo;ll take it off our hands if we want to give it to them, but she didn\u0026rsquo;t insist.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is she getting out of it, then?\u0026rdquo; asked Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe she thinks keeping this object\u0026mdash;whatever it is\u0026mdash;away from the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms is advantage enough,\u0026rdquo; said Frances.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can\u0026rsquo;t argue with that,\u0026rdquo; Liam agreed. He snuck a look at Frances, who gave him a small smile, then turned to Grace. \u0026ldquo;Does Sansone have any information for us that\u0026rsquo;s, I don\u0026rsquo;t know, actually useful?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shook her head. She had pressed Sansone for all the details she had, which had been depressingly sparse. \u0026ldquo;She offered this, though.\u0026rdquo; From her jacket pocket, Grace removed a piece of paper with a set of coordinates and a time. \u0026ldquo;According to Sansone, there\u0026rsquo;s a plane leaving for Kathmandu from that location tomorrow.\u0026rdquo; She checked her watch and corrected herself. \u0026ldquo;Later today. There are four seats for us on it. After that, she\u0026rsquo;ll see what she can do, but we should anticipate that we\u0026rsquo;ll be on our own.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances\u0026rsquo;s tentacles made a soft ticking sound as she drummed them on the floor. She said, \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no love lost between me and the Society, but I don\u0026rsquo;t disagree that keeping a powerful artifact away from the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms is a good thing. And the thought occurs that having someone like Sansone owing us a favor might be very useful someday.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSlow nods around the table. Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s hand brushed Grace\u0026rsquo;s.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you think?\u0026rdquo; he asked her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace felt the weight of six people\u0026rsquo;s worth of expectations. She felt the warmth of Sal\u0026rsquo;s support at her back. \u0026ldquo;I think we should take the job.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal frowned at the map spread out on the table in the school library. \u0026ldquo;We have to cover both sides of the border. There\u0026rsquo;s no way around it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam examined the map. \u0026ldquo;That means splitting up in Kathmandu.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom his corner of the table, Perry looked up. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t split the party,\u0026rdquo; he muttered. Sal wondered if he was following their conversation at all, or if they\u0026rsquo;d just hit a verbal trigger. Still, he wasn\u0026rsquo;t wrong.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think we have a choice,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It will be hard to search in Bhutan,\u0026rdquo; Frances observed. \u0026ldquo;Mountaineering is illegal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Could indicate the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are going to make their approach from the Tibetan side,\u0026rdquo; said Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or it could indicate they don\u0026rsquo;t care any more about Bhutanese laws than they do about laws anywhere else,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam snorted. \u0026ldquo;Bet Povel wishes he cared more about French laws right about now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat even won a smile from Grace. \u0026ldquo;Sal and I should go to Tibet,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll be going in unofficially, but if we do have to deal with the government, better to have someone who speaks Mandarin.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It won\u0026rsquo;t necessarily make the Tibetans more friendly,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; pointed out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shrugged. \u0026ldquo;If anyone asks, Sal and I will both be American tourists, come to backpack, or find enlightenment, or nature, or whatever the hell Americans do when they go to Tibet.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s laugh came out as a snort. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll work on your cover story on the plane.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd so, by process of elimination, Mench\u0026uacute; and Liam found themselves on a very nice Drukair flight from Kathmandu to Paro, Bhutan. Mench\u0026uacute; enjoyed the spectacular views during the short hop through the Himalayas. Liam slept through the entire trip. Less than twenty-four hours after Grace had shaken him awake, Mench\u0026uacute; was in a part of the world that hadn\u0026rsquo;t yet been open to foreign visitors in the year of his birth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTheir guide, Tashi Sangay, met them at the airport. He was pleasant and well scrubbed, as guides tended to be, in Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s experience. He was also a requirement for their visit. Foreign visitors were charged a fee for every day they spent in Bhutan, which covered their food, lodgings, transportation, and a guide. It was a refreshingly transparent effort to keep the isolated kingdom from being overrun by tourists in search of the last Shangri-la. As their route took them over twisting roads with views of virgin forests and unclimbed peaks in all directions, Mench\u0026uacute; couldn\u0026rsquo;t help but think that maybe the Bhutanese were on to something.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTashi Sangay turned his attention from the road as they reached a brief section that was both flat and straight. \u0026ldquo;I have arranged your hotel for tonight in Paro, but I have been told that you have not yet decided your itinerary. We should make the necessary arrangements as soon as possible, so that you can enjoy your visit to the fullest.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam and Mench\u0026uacute; exchanged a glance. No words were necessary when Liam\u0026rsquo;s expression so eloquently said: \u0026ldquo;Talking to people is your department, Father.\u0026rdquo; And so it was, although he could hardly say, \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;d like to discreetly follow some very rich Swedes, if any happen to be in your country.\u0026rdquo; Then again\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. they knew that the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms were looking for an artifact of power. They had no idea where or what, but that was no reason not to start with the obvious.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Actually, we could benefit from your advice,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;We would like to see the most magical things in your country.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTo reach Tibet from Kathmandu had once been an arduous overland trek. For Grace and Sal, it was a matter of hiring a taxi at the airport. Then, after a two-hour drive, a hundred-dollar fare, and a few tense minutes as a border official squinted over Grace\u0026rsquo;s Chinese face and Vatican passport, they walked across the Friendship Bridge.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Have you ever been to Tibet before?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked once they were safely across.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shook her head. Lhasa was more than four thousand kilometers by road from Shanghai. These jagged, snowy peaks had nothing in common with the sea and steaming summers of her youth. \u0026ldquo;Have you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal laughed. \u0026ldquo;I watched a documentary about someone who died on Everest once. Does that count?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everest is on the border, and most climbers approach from Nepal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Pretty sure that answers your question, then.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey called it the Tiger\u0026rsquo;s Nest, and if it wasn\u0026rsquo;t the most magical place in Bhutan, Mench\u0026uacute; certainly couldn\u0026rsquo;t blame anyone for making the error. Winded from the steep climb, he told himself he was panting due to the altitude. He had grown up in the mountains, surrounded by old men who walked trails twice this steep twice a day with heavy packs. Of course, he was a decade older than those old men had been. He wondered if he had been wrong to think of them being old then, or to think of himself as being young now. Possibly both.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam appeared at his elbow as Mench\u0026uacute; took in the view. \u0026ldquo;You really think we\u0026rsquo;re going to find any Engstr\u0026ouml;ms up here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you have a better place for us to look?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked uncomfortable. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re a priest. Don\u0026rsquo;t you get in trouble for spending too much time hanging out in pagan temples?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shrugged. The thought had never occurred to him. \u0026ldquo;Some say Guatemalan Catholicism is merely paganism with an overlay of Jesus. Why? Does being here bother you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Irish Catholicism doesn\u0026rsquo;t give me a lot of ways to deal with this many carved dicks right out in the open.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; had been to Ireland more than once. He couldn\u0026rsquo;t argue. Not that the temple was festooned with phalluses, but there had been some very striking displays back in town. And the fact was, while the temple was impressive, it appeared to be completely free of both the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms and obvious artifacts of power.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOn the walk back down, Mench\u0026uacute; asked Tashi Sangay a question triggered by Liam\u0026rsquo;s observation. \u0026ldquo;This is one of the holiest sites in Bhutan. Does it bother you that it has also become a tourist attraction for nonbelievers?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf their guide was bothered, he hid it very well. \u0026ldquo;The site is holy to all visitors, whether they believe or not,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;It is the same with your Vatican, no?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; was still pondering that question that evening when Tashi Sangay brought them to a local festival that had taken over most of a Paro street. (In fairness, the street did not appear to have put up much of a fight.) The Vatican was the center of Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s faith, and he had lived there for more than a decade. Did it still feel holy to him? Had it ever? Many clergymen considered a posting in Rome to be the pinnacle of their calling, but Mench\u0026uacute; had never been politically ambitious, for all that Sansone had tried to turn him into a politician. His work with the Society had been challenging, fulfilling, exciting, even enjoyable. But the more he thought about it, the more a pesky doubt emerged. \u003cem\u003eWas joining the Society part of my vocation, or did I merely follow the path that presented itself?\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; caught himself pulling at his collar, rubbing uncomfortably against his neck. Now was not the time for a spiritual crisis. It was a beautiful evening, and men in masks were performing an elaborate dance. He was about to ask about the significance when he felt his blood run cold.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe dancers wearing masks were\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. changing. Men dressed to represent animals, demons, and saints were gradually but obviously assuming the forms of the masks they wore.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam, are you seeing this?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; said Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s mind raced. He wished they weren\u0026rsquo;t so far from the rest of the team. He needed to call Asanti, see if her Orb was flaring, if she had any idea what might be causing this and how they could put a stop to it before the entire town, perhaps the entire country, was overrun. Any minute now, the crowd would notice, panic\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; looked over at their guide. He was watching the dance, clapping and singing along with the music. \u0026ldquo;Tashi Sangay,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; whispered, urgent. \u0026ldquo;Do you see them changing?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh yes,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;you\u0026rsquo;re lucky to see such dedicated dancers.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; blinked. \u0026ldquo;Does this happen\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. often?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The monks say it\u0026rsquo;s because of what happened in London. Did you hear about the dragon that came out of the river there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Er, yes. The city still isn\u0026rsquo;t the same.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course the city is the same,\u0026rdquo; said Tashi Sangay. \u0026ldquo;The magic has always been here. It\u0026rsquo;s just easier to see now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe dance came to an end, and in the space of an eye-blink, the dancers were men in masks once again. Mench\u0026uacute; closed a hand on Liam\u0026rsquo;s arm, suddenly unsure of his footing. This wasn\u0026rsquo;t the vaunted mysticism of the East. Magic had come, passed through, and passed on. The crowd went about its business. The dancers appeared unharmed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going to follow them,\u0026rdquo; said Liam. \u0026ldquo;Find out what hotel they\u0026rsquo;re staying in.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; \u003cem\u003eThe demons are staying at a hotel?\u003c/em\u003e \u0026ldquo;Follow who?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam squinted at Mench\u0026uacute;, then pointed to a cluster of tourists on the other side of the square. The three figures, tall and blond, would have stood out anyway, but their conspicuous wealth left little doubt as to their identities. It was Povel Engstr\u0026ouml;m\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. and his parents.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s legs were going numb from the hours she\u0026rsquo;d spent sitting cross-legged on cushions, rugs, even bare ground. She had drunk more mugs of yak butter tea than she liked to contemplate. She had thought England was the epitome of a society devoted to polite tea-drinking. She had been wrong. Very wrong.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe old woman sitting across from her and Grace was telling them a story. A very long and involved story. It was beautiful, really. It had a monk trying to achieve enlightenment, a journey into the mountains, even a magic rice bowl.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried to keep her expression focused and respectful. Difficult, when her bladder was about to burst. Also, the story was exactly the same as the one printed on the place mats at their hostel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAssuming that the spoken version did not have a lengthy epilogue, they were about halfway through. It had taken quite a bit of persistence to get the old woman to talk to them, and Sal was pretty sure it would be intensely disrespectful to either leave or wet herself in the middle of the recitation. She tried to focus on something that was not her bladder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLike Grace. Out of the corner of her eye, Sal could see Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand resting easily on her knee. Her nails were perfect, trimmed short and buffed to a high shine. Sal wanted to run her fingers over them. She wondered if doing so would offend the kind, albeit long-winded, old lady. Sal knew how to deal with homophobes back home. Here\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Was being gay illegal in China? Did Tibet count as part of China as far as gayness went? Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t remember. And she hated that it was something she had to know, and hated that she cared. But she kept her hands to herself. Eventually the story ended.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBack in the cool sunshine of the Tibetan autumn, and after a very necessary pit stop, Sal gave Grace a squeeze, even though she didn\u0026rsquo;t feel like hugging her right then and Grace wasn\u0026rsquo;t big on PDAs, because screw the haters. Sal discreetly checked their surroundings and\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. no one seemed to care. Sal was almost annoyed, then relieved, then annoyed that she was relieved. Grace gave her a side-hug back, and Sal felt better.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think you\u0026rsquo;re going to have to take the lead,\u0026rdquo; she told Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because if there are legends about whatever it is that the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are after, I\u0026rsquo;m pretty sure they haven\u0026rsquo;t been translated into English.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s cute that you think they\u0026rsquo;ve been translated into Chinese.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOn the corner, a man was busking: singing along as he played a stringed instrument Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t identify. Grace dropped a few coins into the basket at his feet, and he nodded his thanks. As they passed, the song shifted and Grace paused, turned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure,\u0026rdquo; said Grace. \u0026ldquo;But I want to hear that song again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam wove his way through the festival crowd, cursing his stature, his red hair, his beard. Most of his tattoos were covered but that was a small help in a country where he stuck out almost as badly as his targets. Still, there were just enough Western tourists that Liam thought he might pass unnoticed\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. until Povel smiled and waved at him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look, Mother! It\u0026rsquo;s the Bookburners!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; was still not entirely sure how he found himself sitting in an overstuffed chair in a highly polished bar in the most expensive hotel in Paro with Liam, Povel, and Povel\u0026rsquo;s parents, Karin and Sven. Both were elegantly preserved and well coiffed, and Mench\u0026uacute; wondered what their actual ages were. They looked to be in their sixties, but he\u0026rsquo;d met members of the Market Arcanum who looked like they were barely out of school who claimed to have served in the Great War.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Really, it\u0026rsquo;s too much,\u0026rdquo; said Povel. \u0026ldquo;You have got to be the most incompetent stalkers I\u0026rsquo;ve ever had. I don\u0026rsquo;t know why my sisters were so worried about\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis father said something sharp in Swedish, and Povel fell silent.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKarin gave Mench\u0026uacute; a warm smile. \u0026ldquo;Children should be seen and not heard.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; returned a smile of his own, just as calculated as the one she had offered, he suspected. \u0026ldquo;To be fair, neither of us have ever been known for our clandestine talents.\u0026rdquo; He raised his glass to Povel. \u0026ldquo;I hope I would not be rude to congratulate you on no longer being an involuntary guest of the French government?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel scowled and clunked his cocktail down on the table, but said nothing. His mother made an airy gesture, as though springing her son from prison was a trivial matter. Perhaps it had been. \u0026ldquo;A small misunderstanding. In the end, everyone agreed that Povel would be best off under our supervision. But thank you for your concern.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam didn\u0026rsquo;t try to hide his grin. \u0026ldquo;Grounded? Tough break, mate. You sure prison wasn\u0026rsquo;t the better deal?\u0026rdquo; Povel glowered, and looked as though he was about to reply, but stopped short of opening his mouth. Which was when Mench\u0026uacute; realized with a shock that the young man\u0026rsquo;s lips were sealed to each other.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKarin caught Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s expression and correctly interpreted its cause. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s only temporary. Half an hour, an hour and a half at most. We won\u0026rsquo;t let him starve.\u0026rdquo; In this family, sealing the mouth of your grown son was apparently a normal thing to do when you were tired of hearing him talk. \u0026ldquo;So, may I ask what brings you to Bhutan? Rather out of your usual jurisdiction, isn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; took a sip of his beer and shunted his horror at the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms\u0026rsquo; actions to a corner of his brain where he could deal with it later. He might not have been on Team Three because of his talent for covert surveillance, but that did not mean he was without skills. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re no longer in the employ of the Vatican,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But you knew that, I\u0026rsquo;m sure.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKarin exchanged a glance with her husband. \u0026ldquo;We know that\u0026rsquo;s what you want the world to believe. But if you\u0026rsquo;re not with the Society, why are you here stalking my son?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve never been to this part of the world,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;, truthfully. \u0026ldquo;As I grow older, the idea of Shangri-la becomes more appealing. Also, we heard you were looking for a magical artifact of great power.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Swedish matriarch\u0026rsquo;s laughter rang like bells. He suspected that more than one man had done terrible things to hear her laugh like that. Or had listened to that laugh as terrible things were done to him. \u0026ldquo;Oh, you are a delight,\u0026rdquo; she said, once she had her breath back. \u0026ldquo;And you have come to find out what it is and take it from us?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Or convince you not to take it in the first place.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Spare us,\u0026rdquo; Sven broke in. \u0026ldquo;The Society was always the most retrograde organization in Europe, and that entire continent would keep us in the fifteenth century if given half a chance.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And it\u0026rsquo;s not like we\u0026rsquo;re stealing it,\u0026rdquo; said Karin.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Does it belong to you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Possession isn\u0026rsquo;t nine-tenths of the law when you don\u0026rsquo;t know what you have and you aren\u0026rsquo;t using it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did it ever occur to you that maybe this object isn\u0026rsquo;t being used for a reason?\u0026rdquo; said Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAll three Engstr\u0026ouml;ms looked at Liam in such frank confusion that Mench\u0026uacute; had to concentrate not to laugh. He cleared his throat. \u0026ldquo;I think what my colleague is suggesting is that since London, the world has become less stable. The activation and use of a powerful artifact always presents a risk. In these times, it could be devastating.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKarin shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Oh, we\u0026rsquo;re quite aware of that,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;But we\u0026rsquo;re confident that we won\u0026rsquo;t be affected.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; frowned. \u0026ldquo;The entire world could be affected.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then that will be a problem for the world, won\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo; She smiled and sipped her drink. Mench\u0026uacute; remembered why he hated rich people so much.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOne advantage of traveling with your girlfriend instead of with your boyfriend\u0026mdash;at least when you were a girl\u0026mdash;was that when staying in a hostel that segregated men into one bunkhouse and women into another, you didn\u0026rsquo;t actually get split up. Of course, you were still sharing a room with a dozen backpackers from all over the world, which wasn\u0026rsquo;t exactly conducive to intimacy. Although in this context Sal was less worried about witnesses objecting to homosexuality than she was that a public display of affection would be taken as an invitation to join in. Even if Sal\u0026rsquo;s pansexual orgy days had not been firmly behind her, she got the feeling that Grace wouldn\u0026rsquo;t want to share.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd so, as Grace worked on translating the busker\u0026rsquo;s song from Chinese into English, Sal made light conversation and asked the other travelers about their experiences. Several had heard the place-mat story. A couple knew where you could go in India to get really good shrooms. But no one knew anything about magical artifacts hidden in the mountains. Finally, Grace joined Sal and tapped her on the shoulder.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go outside,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I want to look at the stars.\u0026rdquo; The way she said it, \u003cem\u003elook at the stars\u003c/em\u003e was obviously code for something else. Although from the smirks of the backpackers who had overheard, she was sure they hadn\u0026rsquo;t guessed it was code for \u003cem\u003eI found a lead\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled and gave Grace a peck on the lips to put the seal on the others\u0026rsquo; misapprehensions. \u0026ldquo;Great idea,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Let me get my coat.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce they were under the aforementioned stars, Grace showed Sal her translation: The song told the story of a bodhisattva who went into the mountains seeking enlightenment and found something called the Eternal Flower. Sal read through the translation twice, then looked at Grace. \u0026ldquo;Okay, I get that he went into the mountains and found a magical object, but so did the guy on the place mat. It seems like kind of a theme. Why do you think this is a clue?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace pointed to the second verse. \u0026ldquo;You see the line there, where he approached the mountain that looked like a scarred cat?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look at the mountain behind you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal did. Thanks to the lack of light pollution, the silhouette of the peak still stood out against the starlight, even in the dark. She wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure she would have called it a one-eared cat on her own, but with the suggestion of the lyric, the resemblance was uncanny. Still\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. \u0026ldquo;Could be a coincidence.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Best lead we have. We should call Asanti, see if she can dig up anything else.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;But not from the hostel. It\u0026rsquo;s not that I think the Swedes have spies but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Actually,\u0026rdquo; said Grace, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been thinking.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We did haul this camping equipment all the way from London.\u0026rdquo; Grace had a very expressive left eyebrow, when she chose to use it to its full extent.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled. \u0026ldquo;I like the way you think.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey found an amenable farmer outside of town who could spare the corner of a pasture, empty except for a placid yakow who deemed them less interesting than his feed and sleeping. Once they had called Asanti, Sal snuggled down next to Grace in her sleeping bag.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know,\u0026rdquo; said Sal, \u0026ldquo;we could have asked Asanti to blow out the candle. I don\u0026rsquo;t think anyone is going to bother us out here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the kind of thing people say before they get attacked in their sleep by a crazed yakow.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A crazed yakow?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It happens. Middle of the night. The yak blood overruns their quiet cow nature and they snap.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Only a city girl would ever think that cows have a placid nature.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shut up and go to sleep,\u0026rdquo; said Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal was tempted to, but felt like she had to say something. \u0026ldquo;You know you don\u0026rsquo;t have to use your candle for\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace didn\u0026rsquo;t let her finish. \u0026ldquo;I know,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal felt like she should follow up on that, argue more, but the night was cold and quiet, and her sleeping bag and her girlfriend were warm, and for the next few hours, she decided to let that be enough.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe afternoon light that had streamed through the library windows while Asanti had spoken over the crackling connection to Sal and Grace was nearly gone. \u003cem\u003eCurse London and its short autumn days.\u003c/em\u003e She never thought she would regret leaving Rome. But now she was in a country even darker and damper, half a world from the magic item that might prove vital to the struggle to keep their cracked terrarium of a world from sinking beneath the waves. Of course, it could also be the thing that sank them. Or the key to making perfect pies without soggy bottoms. And to find it, all she had to go on was the English translation of the Chinese translation of a song written in Tibetan. That was the problem with being good at your job; your coworkers expected you to produce miracles as a matter of course.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the corner, Perry was curled in the last bit of light coming through the windows and singing to himself. \u003cem\u003eHe\u0026rsquo;s getting worse\u003c/em\u003e. Perry needed to get out of London\u0026mdash;with its high levels of background magic\u0026mdash;even more than she did. Asanti went back to her work. If she could find a record of the song in its original language, perhaps\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA scrap of music floated across her ear.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe words, in a language Asanti did not speak but which reminded her of the little bit of Hindi, ceased. \u0026ldquo;Yes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are you singing?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe next morning, Sal jolted awake with a start, only to find Grace warm and breathing beside her. Given that Sal was so used to being woken by a cold hand under the blanket, it took her a few seconds to figure out why she wasn\u0026rsquo;t still asleep. \u003cem\u003eBeep. Beep. Beep. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eCell phone. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt took a little bit of work to fish her phone out from where it had slid under the sleeping bags during the night, but she managed to catch Asanti\u0026rsquo;s call before it went to voice mail.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOutside the tent, the yakow snuffled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s voice on the other end of the call sounded tired, but satisfied. \u0026ldquo;Be sure to thank your brother when you get back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay. Do I get to know why?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because of him, I can confirm that the song is not leading you on a wild goose chase. Well, probably not. Still no way to know if the flower is the object the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are after, but even if it isn\u0026rsquo;t, if you find it, you\u0026rsquo;ll have it and they won\u0026rsquo;t, so you can take that for a win.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sat up, pulling the sleeping bag tightly around her shoulders. Turned out fall in the Himalayas was really cold. Go figure. \u0026ldquo;Is that what you\u0026rsquo;ve got for us? Keep following the song?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You recite to me the translation of a translation of a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. No, never mind. We found the earliest written version of the song. Lyrics are surprisingly accurate. A slightly better translation for \u0026lsquo;the Eternal Flower\u0026rsquo; would be \u0026lsquo;the Lotus of Time.\u0026rsquo; Not sure why they made the change, but my guess is that it doesn\u0026rsquo;t scan as well in Chinese.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What does it do?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. Grace was sitting up now, and Sal angled the phone so that she could hear.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You heard the song. It granted the bodhisattva enlightenment and eternal life.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If all you\u0026rsquo;ve found is the song, what makes you so sure that it leads to something?\u0026rdquo; asked Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal could practically hear Asanti\u0026rsquo;s eyes rolling as she replied. \u0026ldquo;Because we found records of at least five other people or groups who attempted to follow the song to the Lotus. Most were never heard from again, but one explorer returned. He had aged thirty years in a little more than two weeks and claimed that he had seen the end of the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What happened to him after that?\u0026rdquo; asked Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everyone assumed he was insane, and he eventually committed suicide.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So everyone who has followed this song is either lost, dead, or lost and presumed dead?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That is correct.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the ensuing pause, Sal looked at Grace; the blue nylon of the tent created interesting highlights in her hair. \u0026ldquo;Have we done something recently to really piss you off?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s laugh on the other end of the line was warm in spite of the static. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m uploading the route information we found to your phone. Well, I\u0026rsquo;m going to have Frances upload the information to your phone. She knows how to do that sort of thing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re welcome,\u0026rdquo; Asanti replied. \u0026ldquo;Try not to die.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e4.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s directions first led Sal and Grace to a well-established hiking trail, then to a less-established hiking trail, then to a dry streambed, and finally, to a crack in a sheer rock face. Although it was a tight squeeze for the first few feet, the entrance eventually opened up into a chamber with two exits on the far side.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOn the left-hand wall, a niche contained a statue of the Buddha along with remnants of a withered orange and a spent incense stick.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Left or right?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought you were team leader now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m our lead investigator. Not lead direction picker.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which way do you want to investigate, then?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sighed. \u0026ldquo;Left, I guess.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded and shouldered her pack, walking without hesitation to the left entrance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore she followed, Sal looked at the Buddha again. \u0026ldquo;Is it disrespectful to leave something if you\u0026rsquo;re not a Buddhist?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Ask a Buddhist.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal decided that when you were looking for a lost magical artifact along a route that had apparently killed or driven insane everyone who had come before you, it was better to be safe than sorry. She reached into her pocket and remembered the last time she had searched there for a gift to give a divine messenger, and shuddered. Sure, they had gotten their prophecy from the Pythia, but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTo Sal\u0026rsquo;s relief, this time her fingers did not find a paper packet of her brother\u0026rsquo;s hair. Only a receipt from the airport snack bar, her keys, and a lone strawberry Starburst. She\u0026rsquo;d been saving it, since she liked the pink ones best. She supposed that made it a suitable offering. Sal left the happy pink square by the Buddha\u0026rsquo;s left hand, just in case it helped, and followed Grace out of the chamber.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSitting beside their car, which was stopped along with two others, Povel\u0026rsquo;s, and a bus on the road back to Paro, Mench\u0026uacute; waited for a school of fish swimming up the mountain to finish crossing the road and realized why he found Bhutan so stressful. The people were friendly. Their guide was helpful. Karin and Sven seemed content to sit in their hotel and periodically send Povel off to amble in the mountains, excursions that Povel undertook with poor grace and on which Liam or Mench\u0026uacute; would dutifully follow. The problem was the magic.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNot even the magic, per se. London was steeped in magic in a way that put anywhere else in the world to shame, and it didn\u0026rsquo;t bother him when they were there. No, it was the local response to it. Or rather, the total lack of response. The transformation at the festival had not been an isolated incident. At least once a day he encountered something that, in today\u0026rsquo;s London, would have had emergency responders running, or pinged the Orb and sent Team Three running in the decades before. And universally, the Bhutanese solution to the forest singing Korean pop songs, or the sky turning silvery-pink like a sunset in the middle of the day, or fish swimming up the mountain and blocking traffic was to simply wait until whatever was happening had passed and then resume their daily lives. And as far as he could tell, that was working out for them just fine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe country was beautiful and unspoiled in a way he had not experienced anywhere else in the world. The people did not seem to live in fear. And it forced Mench\u0026uacute; to ask himself a very uncomfortable question: Had spending the greater part of his career devoted to neutralizing magic been an utter waste of time?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was in the lead, so she was the one who spotted the remains. She signaled for Sal to stop, then cautiously approached the desiccated figure in its worn fatigues, checking for booby traps\u0026mdash;ready to burn in an instant to bring herself to a safe distance\u0026mdash;before motioning for Sal to come forward.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He was Chinese military, from the clothes,\u0026rdquo; she said as she squatted by the body. \u0026ldquo;Recent.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal frowned. \u0026ldquo;How recent?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace didn\u0026rsquo;t follow the minutiae of changes to the uniform of the PLA but she could make an educated guess. \u0026ldquo;Last ten years?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis answer didn\u0026rsquo;t seem to make Sal any happier. \u0026ldquo;From the state of the body, I would have guessed older. Then again, knowing things like that is what forensic pathologists are for.\u0026rdquo; She turned the body, checking the skull, opening the shirt to look for wounds. Beyond what looked like a twisted ankle, there were no obvious injuries. \u0026ldquo;Doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem likely he died of a twisted ankle,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace opened his mouth, saw the teeth ground down to nearly nothing. \u0026ldquo;Could have been starvation,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;His teeth were so bad he couldn\u0026rsquo;t eat?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He ran out of food and ate rocks in desperation.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal let out a low whistle. Oddly, even surrounded by hard surfaces, the sound didn\u0026rsquo;t echo. The tone was flat and dead. Regretfully, she pushed back up from her squat. \u0026ldquo;What a horrible way to go.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace couldn\u0026rsquo;t argue. Of course, she knew how her life would end: with a guttering flame and a sleep that went on forever. \u0026ldquo;We should move on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey did.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor hours.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWalking through tunnel after tunnel that led to chamber after chamber. Sometimes there were markers carved or painted on the walls, like someone had been trying to keep track of their way as they journeyed through the maze. Which nagged at Grace for reasons she couldn\u0026rsquo;t quite put her finger on. It was a sensible thing to do, wasn\u0026rsquo;t it? She started making marks of her own.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEventually, they found other bodies. Some in groups, most alone. Sal gave them nicknames: Shot-in-the-Back Dude, Bashed-Each-Other\u0026rsquo;s-Heads-In Couple, The Cannibal Backpackers. All in the same state of desiccation.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, at least we\u0026rsquo;ve solved the mystery of what happened to all of those people who tried to follow the song before,\u0026rdquo; said Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs bright sides went, it was pretty bleak. Which Grace pointed out, because dating someone didn\u0026rsquo;t mean that \u003cem\u003eeverything \u003c/em\u003ethey said was adorable.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal didn\u0026rsquo;t try to argue. \u0026ldquo;Actually, to be honest, I\u0026rsquo;m not even sure we\u0026rsquo;ve done that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace raised her eyebrow. Sal usually didn\u0026rsquo;t need her to state the full question when she did that. She liked that about her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We know \u003cem\u003ehow\u003c/em\u003e these people died,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. \u0026ldquo;Or we can make a good guess, but we don\u0026rsquo;t know \u003cem\u003ewhy\u003c/em\u003e. Like, yeah, twisted-ankle guy maybe couldn\u0026rsquo;t get out and starved, but what about the others? In my experience, cannibalism is no one\u0026rsquo;s first resort.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was about to inquire into Sal\u0026rsquo;s experience with cannibalism when she entered a new chamber and stopped short.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stood aside so that Sal could see. The rocky passages and rooms they had been traversing were all variations of shades of brown and gray. Even the clothes of the corpses had been brought into that palette by layers of dirt and mud.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pink of a strawberry Starburst placed in a wall niche at eye level stood out like a beacon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, of course our work isn\u0026rsquo;t a waste of time,\u0026rdquo; said Liam as they watched the three Engstr\u0026ouml;ms from the veranda of the restaurant across the street from their hotel. \u0026ldquo;Do you think the Hand would have just shrugged and buggered off out of Sal\u0026rsquo;s head if we\u0026rsquo;d left it alone?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, no. You\u0026rsquo;re right,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;Of course you\u0026rsquo;re right.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know I am,\u0026rdquo; said Liam. \u0026ldquo;Because it\u0026rsquo;s what you taught me when I joined up with this outfit. So why are you suddenly having trouble believing it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBelief had never been Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s problem. He let out a long sigh. \u0026ldquo;Logically, I know that we do the work that needs to be done, but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. what if it\u0026rsquo;s like a mosquito bite? The more you scratch it, the more it itches. And so over the years, our intervention has made the magical problems we\u0026rsquo;ve been having worse. Which, in turn, requires more intervention. A vicious, destructive cycle.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Make that intervention over the centuries, then. Even if you\u0026rsquo;re right, the Society started scratching long before we came along. And didn\u0026rsquo;t we work out that this is all on Hannah and her weird science experiment, anyway?\u0026rdquo; Liam finished the last of his water and put down his glass with a deliberate \u003cem\u003ethunk\u003c/em\u003e. \u0026ldquo;You can\u0026rsquo;t get wrapped up in that kind of chicken and egg shit,\u0026rdquo; he said with feeling. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re just going to drive yourself in circles.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re right back where we started.\u0026rdquo; Sal knew she was stating the obvious even as she said it. Maybe it would help to hear it out loud. Maybe there was another perfectly logical explanation for what was going on, and if she said what she was thinking, Grace would step in and correct her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, we\u0026rsquo;re not,\u0026rdquo; said Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOh thank God. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If this were the chamber where we entered, there would be three entrances, not two.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked: There was the wall with the Buddha niche. Then, on the adjoining wall, two tunnels: right and left. There had always been two. What did Grace mean that there had been three\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The way we came in from the outside,\u0026rdquo; said Grace. \u0026ldquo;That was the third one.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked. Naturally, that was the passage that was missing.\u003cem\u003e Well, fuck.\u003c/em\u003e \u0026ldquo;I guess now we know why people starved or turned to cannibalism.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey had come out of the same left tunnel they had entered, so this time, they tried the one on the right. It felt different, at least Sal told herself it did, until they found the same bodies in the same order, the same marks that Grace had made on the walls the first time through. Grace crossed them off the other way, then caught herself mid-stroke.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I just realized why the marks were bothering me,\u0026rdquo; said Grace. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been thinking of this place like it\u0026rsquo;s a maze. It isn\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There are no choices,\u0026rdquo; Grace explained. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s that one at the beginning, left or right, but everything after is just one twisting path.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And even that isn\u0026rsquo;t a choice, because here we are on the same path as last time. Which doesn\u0026rsquo;t make any sense, because if the two doors join to the same route, you should be able to see where they connect, and we can\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo; Sal paused, then added: \u0026ldquo;And the way in shouldn\u0026rsquo;t mysteriously vanish.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s almost like the powerful magical artifact doesn\u0026rsquo;t want anyone to get to it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal ignored Grace\u0026rsquo;s sarcasm. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t like she was the one who had trapped them in here. How long had they been wandering and getting nowhere? Sal shuddered. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t die here. Couldn\u0026rsquo;t abandon Perry. Couldn\u0026rsquo;t leave Grace trapped until her candle burned out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOkay then, if \u0026ldquo;not dying\u0026rdquo; was the goal, what they needed next was a plan. Best to play to her strengths and approach this like a case. Step one: Collect all possible evidence.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If this is a magical trap, we can\u0026rsquo;t assume that just because a trail looks identical it will lead to the same place,\u0026rdquo; said Sal. \u0026ldquo;So unless you have a better idea, I say we keep walking until we get back to where we started or end up somewhere else.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace said nothing, but she resumed walking, crossing off her trail marks as they went.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe second path did lead back to the Buddha and the Starburst. Grace tried not to think about the hours of her life that she would never get back. She recited poems in her head as she walked. Took out old memories and examined them. Let Sal lead for a while in an effort to use her time constructively by admiring her girlfriend from behind. Her skin itched with the time that slipped past her, put to no greater good than setting one foot in front of the other.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eStill, Grace was the one who pushed for them to make the third circle. Because walking was better than sitting and waiting. Waiting for time to pass. Waiting for Sal to apologize again for wasting her time. As though she were the one they needed to worry about. Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t starve. Couldn\u0026rsquo;t perish of thirst. If she were injured, she would eventually heal. If they were out of touch for long enough, Asanti might even put out her candle, letting her wait indefinitely to be rescued. Grace could survive this. Sal was the one who would die.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs they reached the body of the rock-eater for at least the sixth time, Sal stopped to look down. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t imagine being so hungry that eating rocks would seem like a good idea. Then again, they\u0026rsquo;d only been stuck in here for\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Sal pulled out her phone to check the time. Still morning. Was it the same day? For some reason, she couldn\u0026rsquo;t remember what day they had gone into the cave. Maybe Grace could.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe looked at the stiff lines of Grace\u0026rsquo;s back. Better not to bother her. To think that they\u0026rsquo;d been trying to get some time alone together. Now time was all they had.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTime.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Lotus of Time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked at her phone again. Eighty-seven percent charged. Even though they had to have been in here for hours under thousands of tons of rock. Her phone should have drained itself searching in vain for a network to connect to.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace turned when she realized that Sal wasn\u0026rsquo;t following. \u0026ldquo;Are you all right?\u0026rdquo; she asked, voice tight, worried.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSlowly, Sal nodded. She was fine. And she shouldn\u0026rsquo;t be. Her feet did not ache. Her back was not sore from her pack. She was not\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you hungry?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA pause. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t really get hungry,\u0026rdquo; Grace admitted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal made a new mental note in the catalog of things she still had to learn about Grace. \u0026ldquo;Okay, fair enough. But I do. Except I\u0026rsquo;m not.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace frowned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried again. \u0026ldquo;It feels like we\u0026rsquo;ve been in here for hours, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Days,\u0026rdquo; said Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right. Days,\u0026rdquo; Sal confirmed. \u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;m not hungry. I\u0026rsquo;m not sore. I\u0026rsquo;m not sleepy. Grace, we\u0026rsquo;re trapped in time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTime was a river, sweeping every boat along in the current together. Except for one. Grace tangled her fingers into Sal\u0026rsquo;s still too-short hair and clung to her like she was a rock, as though by holding her close she could let the current pass them by, live in this moment forever.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just because I can burn, doesn\u0026rsquo;t mean I can find the Lotus,\u0026rdquo; Grace whispered. \u0026ldquo;I could get lost. It could all be for nothing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s lips found hers, windburned and chapped from the high altitude. Perfect. \u0026ldquo;If you can\u0026rsquo;t find it, find your way back to me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace raced forward with the current, with every moment reaching toward her death. The cave walls flickered, water seeped from the stone, poured, evaporated in an instant, gone too quickly to perceive. For the first time since she had been cursed with it, she had no sense of her candle. Surely she must be nearing the end of her years by now? Now? .\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;Now?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHadn\u0026rsquo;t Asanti said the mad monk who returned from his quest for the Lotus claimed to have seen the end of the world? Maybe that was how far you had to go to reach enlightenment. It was in all the stories, from the one on the place mat to the song that had brought her to this moment. Give up everything you owned, everything you wanted, everything you loved and prized and hoped for, and in the moment when you had given up everything, the object of your search appeared.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn a moment as long as heartache and as quick as joy, Sal blinked. And when she opened her eyes, Grace stood before her. Her face was wet with tears, and in her hands, she held a shining crystal flower.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal felt fresh air rush into her lungs, blow across her cheek, lift the hair at the nape of her neck. Not hot, stale cave air, but cool moist wind from\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe way out, open again. Sal looked from the crystal flower to the pink candy by the niche to Grace\u0026rsquo;s expression, both elated and crushed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Time to go?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Sal squeezed her shoulder, and together they walked into the light.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey emerged into the glare of the sun shining off snow and the barrels of half a dozen QBZ-95 automatic rifles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn her peripheral vision, Grace could see Sal slowly raise her hands. Grace dimly processed that perhaps she should do the same, but also that doing so while holding an ancient magical artifact of incalculable value would be a bad idea. Her hands stayed where they were. So did the rifles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA woman wearing a padded jacket over the sensible suit that said \u003cem\u003egovernment official\u003c/em\u003e so loudly it might as well have been a uniform stepped out from between the soldiers. Wang, of the Agency that had replaced Grace\u0026rsquo;s after the revolution. She did not smile as she met Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you for finding the Lotus. We were running out of agents we trusted to recover it ourselves.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam and Mench\u0026uacute; were spending the afternoon watching a match at the national archery stadium. At this point, Liam had to think that their guide was only pretending not to notice that they were more interested in the three Swedes four rows in front of them than they were in an exhibition of Bhutan\u0026rsquo;s national sport. To their credit, they were still paying more attention to the archery than Povel was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam sighed. \u0026ldquo;We should check on the girls,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We knew they\u0026rsquo;d be out of touch,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re in the middle of the mountains looking for a magical artifact. None of that adds up to a good cell signal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Still\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Liam began.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eJust then, Karin got a call.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBhutanese archery was a much louder pastime than Liam would have expected, but even if they had been close enough to eavesdrop, Liam\u0026rsquo;s Swedish had never gotten past: \u0026ldquo;Hey, got a light?\u0026rdquo; and \u0026ldquo;Is the DSL here total shit or not?\u0026rdquo; In any event, the call did not last long.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKarin hung up, gave her husband a quick nod, rose, and made her way toward the exit. Sven prodded Povel to follow. As they climbed up the aisle, Povel caught Liam\u0026rsquo;s eye and gave him the most obnoxious grin he had ever seen. \u0026ldquo;Thanks for finding the Lotus for us,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam felt the bottom drop out of his stomach even as he reached for his phone and pulled up Sal\u0026rsquo;s number in his contact list.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer phone rang, and rang, and rang.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e5.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You have been found in Chinese sovereign territory with intent to commit espionage and remove antiquities without the knowledge or permission of the government.\u0026rdquo; Wang\u0026rsquo;s English was fluent, and used for Sal\u0026rsquo;s benefit. Or possibly for Ingrid and Gala Engstr\u0026ouml;m, who were standing near the door. Grace doubted the twins had bothered to learn Mandarin. Beside Wang, another Chinese official, wearing the men\u0026rsquo;s version of her suit, remained silent.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace could have kicked herself. They had all assumed that the government would be as hostile to the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms as they were to the Vatican. That ideology would keep proverbial strange bedfellows separate. And so they had ignored another adage, applicable to almost any situation: money talks.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer assumptions were going to get Sal thrown into a Chinese prison. If she was lucky.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd yet\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. if this was really about espionage and antiquities theft, why bother with the dog and pony show? Wang didn\u0026rsquo;t need to oversee their arrest and imprisonment personally. Grace wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure who the other official was, but he didn\u0026rsquo;t look like the sort of person you sent to haul in a couple of prisoners. That was grunt work, what the two armed guards posted by the back wall were for. This was theater, designed to frighten and unnerve them, yes, but Grace didn\u0026rsquo;t think she and Sal were the only intended audience.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd so, when Wang concluded her litany of their crimes, Grace turned to her and the silent man and said in Chinese, \u0026ldquo;Now that you have impressed the Swedes with how serious you are, can we get down to the real business?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was expecting the gun butt to her head. It would have cracked Sal\u0026rsquo;s skull, and left Grace\u0026rsquo;s ears ringing. She could feel blood slipping down her scalp. She heard Sal\u0026rsquo;s sharp inhalation and hoped that she had the sense not to do something stupid. Because the calculation had paid off. The man rose from his position behind the table and politely ushered Ingrid and Gala from the room. The guards with the guns went with them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eInteresting. \u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWang did not move from her seat. When the man returned, instead of joining her, he came around the front of the table. He leaned against it, and addressing Grace, said in Chinese: \u0026ldquo;Wang told us about some of the extraordinary talents you showed when she encountered you before. And of course, we had heard rumors of the ageless Chinese woman who worked for the Pope. But seeing the results of your abilities in person, I must say I am quite impressed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace ignored the flattery. \u0026ldquo;The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms have no interest in partnership with you,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;They want only to enrich themselves, and will sacrifice anyone and anything to do so.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That,\u0026rdquo; the man said, \u0026ldquo;is why we are having this discussion. There are two roads before you. If you choose the first, you will be charged with the crimes enumerated by Wang and imprisoned. Although I doubt that our prisons would effectively hold you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And the second?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come home, Chen Juan.\u0026rdquo; Grace felt her heart speed up at the sound of her name, long disused, but never forgotten. The man leaned forward, eyes alight with his fervor. \u0026ldquo;Use your unique talents for the nation of your birth, not a superstitious foreign prince. With an agent of your knowledge and experience at its head and the full support of the Party, the Arcane Security Bureau would easily be the match of our enemies, both magical and mundane.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace\u0026rsquo;s eyes cut to Wang. She didn\u0026rsquo;t look surprised. She also didn\u0026rsquo;t look happy. \u0026ldquo;What about Wang?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Agent Wang has graciously agreed to be your assistant and liaison, an interface to execute your vision for the Bureau. Naturally, we would provide accommodation and an appropriate placement for Miss Brooks as well. Although her access to sensitive areas would be limited, for reasons of state security.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace wished that she could believe that it was all a lie. The bit about Wang\u0026rsquo;s gracious agreement certainly was, but for the rest\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. There was no reason for this man to dangle an offer he had no intention of fulfilling. He had all but acknowledged that he knew he could not hold Grace by force. She had something that he wanted, and he offered\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. a chance to do the work that had first drawn her into the world of magic. A position where she might be able to effectively counter the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms\u0026rsquo; plans. But he wasn\u0026rsquo;t lying about Sal either. No matter what \u0026ldquo;appropriate placement\u0026rdquo; they found, Sal would be a hostage to ensure Grace\u0026rsquo;s good behavior. He might not be able to hold her by force, but oh yes, he would find a way to hold her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor the first time since they had been taken, Grace permitted herself to turn and look at Sal. She met her eyes, and knew what she had to do. She had not left her masters at the Vatican to replace them with this stranger from a foreign China. This country was not her home. Sal was. Grace had never tried to put another in her boat when she rowed hard with the current. She had no idea if Sal would survive the burn. She had no choices left.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry,\u0026rdquo; she told the man, \u0026ldquo;but I reject your options.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe took Sal\u0026rsquo;s hand, and burned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor Sal, everything happened in an instant. Grace took her hand and suddenly the world vanished in a blur so dazzling it was blinding even through her closed eyelids. The air rasped her skin, stabbed at her lungs when she tried to take a breath.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. it stopped. The cold wind and salt tears stung her cheeks, exposed skin raw and tender. The sky above was clear and blue. And Grace was looking down at her, face lined in concern. \u0026ldquo;Where are we?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Safe,\u0026rdquo; said Grace. \u0026ldquo;For a little while.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal pulled herself to her feet. Everything seemed to be working, although sore. She flexed her hand where Grace had gripped it. Rolled her shoulder. \u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t know you could do that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Neither did I. Are you okay?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Is that what it\u0026rsquo;s like for you, every time?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I have no idea. I doubt it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled, just so Grace would smile back. It worked. \u0026ldquo;Come on,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go home.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFather Mench\u0026uacute; looked across the aisle to where Sal and Grace slept against each other in their cramped airplane seats, reassuring himself that they were really there. It had only been thirty-six hours since the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms had obtained the Lotus, and Grace and Sal had barely escaped the Chinese, but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s life revolved around God and magic, two forces so great that to even think of controlling them was laughable. And yet, he could not remember ever feeling more helpless than he had as he listened to Liam\u0026rsquo;s phone ring, waiting for Sal to answer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe got up to stretch his legs and exorcise his thoughts. Heading forward, a young flight attendant stopped him at the front galley. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry, Father, this cabin is reserved for our first-class passengers.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn that instant, Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s carefully contained frustration and rage threatened to bubble over. He wanted to push past the flight attendant, shout at the first-class travelers with their sleeping pods and their complimentary drinks and gourmet food, insulated from the other passengers, from the freezing atmosphere outside, from each other. He wanted to scream: \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re on the same plane! You\u0026rsquo;re still going to crash with the rest of us!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut it would accomplish nothing. Well, nothing except get him arrested and perhaps a starring role on an internet viral video. Which was less than nothing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; nodded to the flight attendant, turned around, and walked back to his seat. To his place. But his anger, banked and hot, remained.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBack in London, Grace let Sal tell the story to Asanti, Frances, and Perry. Sal had not asked Grace about her conversation in Chinese with the man in the suit, and did not drop the slightest hint to the others that it had taken place. She kept her account simple: the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms had the Lotus of Time and an alliance with the Chinese government. They had failed. But thanks to Grace, they had survived.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo one offered a hint of blame. Only Grace felt the weight of the unspoken in the air.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs they lay in bed that night, the room lit only by Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle and the spill of streetlights through the gaps in the blinds, Grace told Sal what the man had said. They had agreed from the beginning that they didn\u0026rsquo;t have time to lie to each other. And Grace found she could not bear to tell Sal anything less than the truth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was it tempting?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. Tonight, Grace was the small spoon. \u0026ldquo;Maybe not the offer, but going home?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace turned over and pushed back so she could look into Sal\u0026rsquo;s eyes. \u0026ldquo;China isn\u0026rsquo;t my home anymore. I outlived my China. Just like everything else.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s smile couldn\u0026rsquo;t hide her sadness. \u0026ldquo;At least when I\u0026rsquo;m gone, I know someone will remember me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shook her head. \u0026ldquo;I lived the way I did at the Vatican for years and didn\u0026rsquo;t mind not having a normal life because I didn\u0026rsquo;t have anyone I needed to be normal for. The last few weeks when we were traveling, even when we were trapped in that mountain\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. it reminded me of what I\u0026rsquo;ve missed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My life is mine now, in a way that it hasn\u0026rsquo;t been\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. maybe ever. I have less than ten years on my candle, and we don\u0026rsquo;t even know if the world is going to last that long. If we only have a little time left, I want to be in the same current with the rest of the world, and I want to share my boat with you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace appreciated that Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t try to talk her out of her decision, something she suspected that Mench\u0026uacute; might have. But Sal did have questions. Grace answered them. And then she answered Sal\u0026rsquo;s new questions prompted by her answers. Eventually, they fell asleep.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey woke to Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle still burning in the morning light.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\nGrace returned to China and met Wang Jianguo, of the Chinese Arcane Security Bureau. Later, Grace spent some time as part of Team One, committed to using herself purely as a weapon. Sal and Grace started a romantic relationship, but they’re haunted by the way Grace’s life slips away each time she burns her candle faster. Meanwhile, the Bookburners realized that the enemies they’re chasing have been known to them all along: The people behind the recent spate of magical murders are Povel Engström and his powerful family. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eHilary Sansone\u003c/strong\u003e: Leader of Team Two. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eWang Jianguo\u003c/strong\u003e: A member of the Chinese Arcane Security Bureau.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Margaret Dunlap\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.249","slug":"Bookburners-s4e06","audio":"","epub":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E06.epub","mobi":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E06.mobi","pdf":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/ebooks/season4/BBS4E06.pdf","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 6"},{"id":"5ad4b044a4c5eb0001f98e39","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":7,"title":"Wax","released_date":null,"released":false,"strapline":"","byline":"Andrea Phillips","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E07.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-07-25","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe wizard knew perfectly well that he was a pitiful figure. Everything about him spoke of being broken: his spine, bent by the weight of time. The soft folds of his face and body, marked by deep fingernail gouges\u0026mdash;not scars, just grooves where flesh was missing. The pitiful beard singed at the tips, the stained and threadbare clothing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce he had been mighty, an inferno of power consuming all he desired. Now he was ember and ashes, abandoned by the world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid sat across from him, pouring thimbles of vodka. She had grown tremendously; the last time he\u0026rsquo;d seen her, she had been a small, eager thing, begging him to show her how he could make sparks from his fingertips. She had grown, in many senses: in height, in confidence, in power. He pressed his thumbs into his eyes. So much time gone, wasted. And what did he have to show for it? Nothing: decades gone in a blink, while he squatted in this hovel in the Yablonoi Mountains.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOnce she had treated him as a toy, or perhaps a jester, brought in for her sole amusement. She had always been an insightful child. Now she assessed him in the way that Antopov himself would judge and measure a knife. Was it sharp enough, hot enough?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, was he? Or had his glory been extinguished under decades of ash?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo. There was still fire in him somewhere. After all, he\u0026rsquo;d once been called the Blood Count of Mongolia for a reason. He threw back his vodka and set the container down sharply. The liquor ignited something in him, some warmth, some heat. He drew on his frayed scraps of dignity to slowly coax himself toward who he used to be. \u0026ldquo;How can I be of service?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I hate to trouble you,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid said, \u0026ldquo;but I have some news to give you. And a favor to ask, on behalf of my family.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was too cunning to spell out how much of a favor he owed the Engstr\u0026ouml;m clan, or perhaps more accurately, how much leverage they had over him. But they both knew. After his\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. accident\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. some decades before, he had been entirely incapacitated. He had always cultivated a close friendship with Ingrid\u0026rsquo;s great-aunt Zilla, and she was the harbor he had fled to. Zilla had arranged for his care all these years. Such as it was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWell, nothing in life was free. \u0026ldquo;You know I would do anything for you,\u0026rdquo; he said, raising his cup in another toast. \u0026ldquo;You have only to ask.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid smiled politely, and didn\u0026rsquo;t return his toast. \u0026ldquo;To be honest, I\u0026rsquo;m doing you a favor as much as you\u0026rsquo;re doing one for me,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;There are some people in London troubling us lately, and one in particular I think you would like to know about.\u0026rdquo; She leaned forward, the curve of her lips as deadly as a scimitar. \u0026ldquo;Uncle Yuri, I have reason to believe that you once met a woman named Grace.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Laundry is stupid,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, with as much venom as she might otherwise have reserved for murderers, demons, or the agony of watching the people she loved speed-age around her. She crouched in front of a washing machine, watching a collection of undergarments tumble in the suds.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If I wanted to do laundry,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;I could have been a farm wife in China and died forty years ago. But here I am. Washing clothes. With water. And soap.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked up from her bench, across the laundromat. She\u0026rsquo;d been leafing through a celebrity magazine they\u0026rsquo;d found that somehow dated to 2003. The toothy blonde on the cover was captioned \u003cem\u003eHilary Duff\u003c/em\u003e, and Grace was moderately sure she\u0026rsquo;d never heard of her before today. \u0026ldquo;Something wrong?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked mildly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace turned her attention back to the spinning laundry. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t that the labor was particularly backbreaking or difficult. Laundry now was a far cry from the daylong ordeal it had been; no more stones or washboards, no more crouching in a river until your hands and back cramped up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNot that Grace had ever done that, either. Even then, city people with enough money sent their laundry away for someone else to deal with. It was the only civilized way to handle it. And later, in the Vatican, the nuns had handled her laundry and other personal tasks; she\u0026rsquo;d been a tool, a weapon, not to be wasted on menial chores that anyone at all could do. She\u0026rsquo;d grown accustomed to that frictionless existence.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t believe I\u0026rsquo;m wasting hours of my candle watching someone else\u0026rsquo;s underwear get wet, all because Liam had to go and\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEven as she said it, Grace knew this wasn\u0026rsquo;t fair. The laundromat they used to send all their laundry to had been destroyed, to be sure, but Liam had vanquished the demons that were responsible, and the owners were planning on rebuilding. Liam hadn\u0026rsquo;t put the demons there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut in the meanwhile, the team still had laundry to do. There weren\u0026rsquo;t any laundromats in Weird London that stayed open anymore, and none nearby that did wash and fold. Many of them had\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. problems. Machines where the laundry that came out had no resemblance to the items you\u0026rsquo;d put in. Machines that turned all the clothes into paper, or ate lacy holes in them, or where only the left half of each garment had shrunk three sizes. And that was even without actual demons nesting in the wash tubs.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe team had ultimately decided it would be more efficient to take turns doing this chore for each other at the closest place left\u0026mdash;not so close, but tolerable. And this week, according to their perfectly fair and equitable rotation, it was Grace\u0026rsquo;s turn to do it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal grimaced. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to do this,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We all know that\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. .\u0026rdquo; That your life is burning away, minute by minute. That if you keep going like this, you\u0026rsquo;re going to die\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. not soon, exactly. But sooner than she had to.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMost people didn\u0026rsquo;t know precisely how long they had, and used and wasted their time in haphazard fashion. But Grace had a choice. She didn\u0026rsquo;t have to waste a second if she didn\u0026rsquo;t want to. And she had chosen to burn.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal hovered behind Grace now, not wringing her hands, but definitely occupying that emotional space. \u0026ldquo;Grace. You know I can do the laundry. Why don\u0026rsquo;t you go back and\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. sleep?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s fine,\u0026rdquo; Grace said through gritted teeth. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s just that this is so\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. tedious.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like washing dishes? Or buying groceries?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes, you get it!\u0026rdquo; Grace threw her hands in the air in exasperation. \u0026ldquo;How do people spend their lives this way?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal appeared to be trying to formulate a response, but her phone buzzed before she had to say it. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. \u0026ldquo;Shit. Asanti wants us to come home. There\u0026rsquo;s an emergency.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about the laundry?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sighed. \u0026ldquo;Stop the machines, I guess. We\u0026rsquo;ll have to take it home wet and finish it later.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe rest of the team was already in the school library before Sal and Grace could make it back. The pair threaded their way through Asanti\u0026rsquo;s stacks of books and research materials toward where the others were gathered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had pinned up a series of charts and diagrams on easels pulled from the art room. She stood before them now, marker poised in the air as she compared them to the notebook in her hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; and Perry had their heads together in some quiet conversation. Liam was sitting by Frances, looking like he wanted to talk to her but couldn\u0026rsquo;t think of anything to say. Frances just watched Asanti writing.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti turned just as Sal and Grace sat down. \u0026ldquo;Ah! You\u0026rsquo;re here. What took you so long?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Laundry,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We got back as fast as we could,\u0026rdquo; Sal added. She twisted in her child-sized seat to try to get more comfortable. The library had only a very limited quantity of adult-sized chairs, and nobody ever remembered to take another one from the classrooms until it was too late.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s going on?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. Her gaze was fixed, her attention sharp, like a hunting dog pointing to its prey.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A storm is brewing,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;We have a lot of work to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded briskly. \u0026ldquo;Okay, we\u0026rsquo;ll track it down. What do you have so far? Is it a book, or\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not a book. It\u0026rsquo;s not a case. Not like usual.\u0026rdquo; Asanti nodded at the trio of easels surrounding their reading nook. Sal looked closer and realized they were maps of London, annotated with an impenetrable forest of thumbtacks, string, and sticky notes covered with tiny, dense handwriting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Magic has always had currents and doldrums,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Once in a while we\u0026rsquo;d see a problem where too much magic had built up over time. Mostly harmless\u0026mdash;spontaneous combustion, lights in the sky, strange cloud formations. Nothing to worry about.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. She became aware that her shoulders and back were banded as if with iron, and she tried to loosen them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sometimes things wake up, or crawl through,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Or maybe the people and animals caught inside became monstrous. It\u0026rsquo;s an academic distinction.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti shook her head, and the beads in her hair murmured like rain. \u0026ldquo;I still don\u0026rsquo;t entirely understand what Hannah did here,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;but it\u0026rsquo;s completely changed the flow of magic across the world. And I\u0026rsquo;m seeing a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. for lack of a better word, a tornado. I\u0026rsquo;ve been tracking it over the Atlantic for weeks, but it\u0026rsquo;s just now become clear that it\u0026rsquo;s going to touch down in North London.\u0026rdquo; Asanti tapped on the map.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam shifted uncomfortably, but Sal spared him no pity; at least he\u0026rsquo;d scored a grown-up seat. \u0026ldquo;When you say a tornado, what you mean is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Monsters,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;We get to fight some monsters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti traced a cluster of streets. \u0026ldquo;This neighborhood is going to be the nexus of the storm. Fortunately the worst of it only has a radius of a few blocks, because we\u0026rsquo;re going to need to get anyone and everyone out of there before it starts. I\u0026rsquo;ve heard reports of other storms, in other parts of the world, over the last few weeks. But nowhere that was already as heavily compromised by magic as we are here. I don\u0026rsquo;t think the world has ever seen anything like this before. It\u0026rsquo;s going to get ugly.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll try to talk the city into evacuation,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;How long do we have?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sagged. \u0026ldquo;About five hours.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stretched one more time and then gave up. Tension was just a part of her life now. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re on it,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going to try to prepare some things that might help us stabilize the situation,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been looking at the book the Maitresse gave me, and I think I\u0026rsquo;m close to figuring something out. And if it works\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. well, it\u0026rsquo;s never a bad idea to have new weapons in your toolbox.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;That sounds promising. Liam, stay here with the R and D squad while Asanti tries to sort this out. Mench\u0026uacute; and Grace will come with me to talk to the police commissioner, and you can meet us at the site later, maybe half an hour before show time. Right?\u0026rdquo; She felt a little awkward as soon as she\u0026rsquo;d finished speaking; there she was, taking control and bossing everyone around again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut nobody seemed to mind. \u0026ldquo;Sounds like a plan,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, nodding thoughtfully. \u0026ldquo;See you there.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal strode toward New Scotland Yard, Grace and Mench\u0026uacute; trailing behind. The Metropolitan Police were headquartered in the heart of Weird London, and the British had steadfastly declined to move offices thus far. Stiff upper lip. Keep calm and carry on. It couldn\u0026rsquo;t be worse than the Blitz.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe wondered how the officers who lived outside the weird zone felt about confronting this strangeness every day as a normal and expected part of their work. Then she caught herself, because she did that, too, and she\u0026rsquo;d become used to it fast enough. So had the NYPD. London cops would be no different.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAcross the river, the London Eye still burned. The Ferris wheel had been damaged when Hannah\u0026rsquo;s pet had tried to destroy London. But its original shape still sparked and smoldered in the air, even all these months later. Sal\u0026rsquo;s vision swam between the wreckage of the old wheel and the corona of the magical one, and she looked away before the dissonance could give her a headache.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe London Eye had been cordoned off, and the attraction would probably never open again. The reminder pained her. She hadn\u0026rsquo;t been able to stop this flood of magic and its consequences, despite her best efforts. But she wouldn\u0026rsquo;t let it happen again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA flame flickered at the center of a pool at New Scotland Yard, and at first Sal wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure if it was also magic. But no; the shapes were too symmetrical and the edges too smooth for it to be anything but manmade. Belatedly, she saw the lettering on the glass indicating that this was a memorial to fallen officers.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe squeezed her eyes tight, squeezed her fists tight, and then she put her game face on. \u0026ldquo;All right, let\u0026rsquo;s make this happen.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe three swept through the door and into the lobby, wearing as much competent confidence as they could muster. The young man staffing the front desk reminded her of a sapling, thin and green, with ears that would do a cauliflower proud. His name tag said \u003cem\u003eBrannigan\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded briskly. \u0026ldquo;We need to speak to the commissioner,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s an emergency.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was she expecting you?\u0026rdquo; Brannigan asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, \u0026ldquo;but this is an urgent situation.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBrannigan\u0026rsquo;s eyes darted between them, suspicious. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m ever so sorry, but she\u0026rsquo;s in a meeting,\u0026rdquo; he mumbled into his mug of tea. \u0026ldquo;May I take a message?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We must see her without delay,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Thousands of people are in imminent danger, and we have to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBrannigan shifted his arm just a hair, so his finger hung poised over a button on his desk phone. \u0026ldquo;Are you making a threat against public safety?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, we\u0026rsquo;re just trying to warn you.\u0026rdquo; Sal winced inside. She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to have to say it, but she knew what would get results. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re the Bookburners,\u0026rdquo; she sighed. \u0026ldquo;We know what we\u0026rsquo;re talking about.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hah! You\u0026rsquo;re not the Bookburners.\u0026rdquo; Brannigan snorted. \u0026ldquo;If you were going to try to imitate them and pull a prank, you could at least have picked up a ginger to play at being your front man.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal blinked. \u0026ldquo;A ginger?\u0026rdquo; Wait\u0026mdash;could he mean Liam? She burst out laughing. \u0026ldquo;Are you kidding me? You think \u003cem\u003eLiam\u003c/em\u003e is in charge?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I keep up on things,\u0026rdquo; Brannigan said. He took a noisy sip of tea, but his finger stayed ready to call for help.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stared daggers into Brannigan\u0026rsquo;s eye sockets. \u0026ldquo;Watch carefully,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll only do this once. Now you see me\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She flickered, and then she had Brannigan in a gentle but iron headlock, with his hand pulled away from his silent alarm. \u0026ldquo;Now you don\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTea streamed from Brannigan\u0026rsquo;s nose and mouth. \u0026ldquo;Weargh-mmmph.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace.\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; motioned for her to stand down, and Grace reluctantly loosened her grip. \u0026ldquo;We are who we say we are,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure how to prove it to your satisfaction, but it\u0026rsquo;s vital that we\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA voice came from behind them, flat and very familiar. \u0026ldquo;Father Mench\u0026uacute;.\u0026rdquo; It was Corporal Shah, a pair of adjuncts carrying stacks of paper trailing behind her. \u0026ldquo;I could have happily missed seeing you,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. Her silver hair was uncharacteristically shaggy, and a little stringy around the crown, like she hadn\u0026rsquo;t washed it in two days too long. Sal suspected that the Society was finding itself overwhelmed in this new reality, with magic washing up in a new place every day, and no Team Three to help them stuff it into a closet anymore.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re here for the tornado?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah\u0026rsquo;s eyebrows quirked up. \u0026ldquo;Ah, is that what you\u0026rsquo;re calling it?\u0026rdquo; Her surprise melted into contempt. \u0026ldquo;I'm honestly surprised you\u0026rsquo;re taking any interest at all, after\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s voice was steady. \u0026ldquo;We serve, Corporal Shah, the same as we always have, though with different means than before.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not your place to do that now.\u0026rdquo; Shah took an envelope from one of her assistants. It was beautiful, a heavy, creamy paper, affixed with a bloody wax seal. \u0026ldquo;I have orders for what to do if I come across any of you,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;They say if I run into any of the former Team Three, then you\u0026rsquo;re coming back with me so you can face justice for what you did.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We won\u0026rsquo;t go,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t belong to you. Not anymore.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah appraised her, and Sal genuinely wondered who would win if it came to a fight. \u0026ldquo;You can argue you\u0026rsquo;re not under the Vatican\u0026rsquo;s authority once you quit your job,\u0026rdquo; Shah said, \u0026ldquo;but Father Mench\u0026uacute; is a priest.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Look, let\u0026rsquo;s not do this now,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not here for us, and there\u0026rsquo;s something more important we should address.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah looked Sal straight in the eye, but didn\u0026rsquo;t say anything. Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t escape the feeling that she was being judged for her sins, both real and imaginary.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe bit the inside of her cheek, but she couldn\u0026rsquo;t stop herself from adding to her case. \u0026ldquo;Whatever you think of us, you should know that we won\u0026rsquo;t stand by while the world burns. We can still work together,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You know we can help each other.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah considered this, though her fingertips ran over that wax-sealed envelope. \u0026ldquo;You know I\u0026rsquo;ll have to take Father Mench\u0026uacute; in, at the very least, when this is done,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. \u0026ldquo;Orders are orders.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You can try,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Please,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t make this more difficult than it has to be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eMaybe\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought, \u003cem\u003eShah isn\u0026rsquo;t sure who would win in a fight, either\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can we deal with this later?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked again. \u0026ldquo;There are more important things to talk about right now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBrannigan had acquired a mass of paper napkins from a desk drawer, and about finished sopping up the puddles of tea from his desk. He hadn\u0026rsquo;t missed a word, though, and Sal thought his ears should have grown about five sizes from listening so hard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah stepped up to him. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m here to meet with the commissioner,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m from the Vatican.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course,\u0026rdquo; Brannigan said. \u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s already expecting you.\u0026rdquo; He looked sidelong at Grace. \u0026ldquo;Ah, do you know these people, or\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah weighed the three of them again. The crease between her eyes grew deeper. \u0026ldquo;Let them in,\u0026rdquo; she said at last. \u0026ldquo;The Bookburners have crossed one too many lines, but they do know what they\u0026rsquo;re doing. Maybe they can help.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They really are the Bookburners?\u0026rdquo; Brannigan squeaked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace raised her chin. \u0026ldquo;Told you,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe conference room was bright and warm, appointed with natural wood tones and filled with copious light. It was a far cry from the digs Sal had been used to in New York; no fluorescent tubes or ancient linoleum here. London knew how to treat its police\u0026mdash;or at least its top-level administrators.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah and her assistants had already laid out the problem for an assortment of police officials and city administrators: the weather pattern, the area of effect, the timing. Sal wondered how they\u0026rsquo;d learned about it now that Team Three\u0026rsquo;s Orb back at the Vatican was practically a disco ball of constant flashing, but there were no clues in anything Shah said about her sources. And they\u0026rsquo;d known early enough to get here in time, too. \u003cem\u003eInteresting\u003c/em\u003e. Well, it wasn\u0026rsquo;t like Team One had ever been dispatched by Team Three in the first place. Perhaps they had their own version of the Orb, tucked away deep in their headquarters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So is this going to unfold like the incident from last July?\u0026rdquo; The police commissioner, Daphne Clarke, was a brusque woman with majestic eyebrows in an otherwise elfin face. Right now her eyebrows were brewing storm clouds.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not like that one,\u0026rdquo; Sal said hastily. \u0026ldquo;That was the result of a\u0026mdash;well, a terrorist action.\u0026rdquo; She ignored Shah\u0026rsquo;s eyes on her. \u0026ldquo;This time we\u0026rsquo;re going to see something more like a weather pattern. It\u0026rsquo;s going to come and go on its own. But while it\u0026rsquo;s here, it could do a lot of damage. We\u0026rsquo;re here to help you minimize that damage.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah and Mench\u0026uacute; nodded their agreement, though Shah looked unhappy at the interruption.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCommissioner Clarke steepled her fingers. \u0026ldquo;What do you propose we do, exactly?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was a map of London taped to the whiteboard. Shah tapped ground zero, where Asanti had said the tornado would touch down. \u0026ldquo;Per our earlier communication, I already have my troops assembling nearby,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re getting ready to cordon off the area to make sure nothing dangerous gets loose into the wider city. Your personnel won\u0026rsquo;t be equipped to deal with this, so you\u0026rsquo;re best staying clear when the time comes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stood. \u0026ldquo;But before that, you also have to evacuate everything from here to here,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She drew a loose circle on the map with her finger, encompassing a few quiet blocks, mostly housing. \u0026ldquo;This is where the worst problems will pop up. We have to get everyone out for their own safety, and we only have a couple of hours to do it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought you\u0026rsquo;d said they should shelter in place?\u0026rdquo; Clarke frowned at Shah.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sheltering in place is fine for a regular storm,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;But less so when your bathtub might decide to devour your children at any moment.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see.\u0026rdquo; Clarke looked back at Shah.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t want to unnecessarily frighten\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Shah began.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is necessary,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re here to save lives, not sacrifice them for the sake of keeping things quiet.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat one landed hard; Shah looked as if she\u0026rsquo;d been slapped, and her adjuncts shifted uncomfortably in their seats.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe commissioner\u0026rsquo;s mouth became a thin, flat line. \u0026ldquo;Agreed. But how do I avoid a public panic?\u0026rdquo; she asked. \u0026ldquo;If I say a breath about magic, after everything\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She gestured toward the corner of the room, where there was a statue out of keeping with the ultra-modern decor and fittings: a statue of a dog made of terra-cotta.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was remarkably detailed and lifelike, Sal realized, down to each strand of fur and the pores on the dog\u0026rsquo;s nose. Even the collar and tags were etched with a license number. And it was posed in an awkward position, tongue out and two feet up as if it were turned to clay while running. Sal\u0026rsquo;s heart lurched. This was no work of art; surely it had been a real dog, transformed by magic at some point. Maybe even the commissioner\u0026rsquo;s dog. She must be keeping it here as a constant reminder of what had been lost and what needed protecting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The most dangerous area isn\u0026rsquo;t that big this time,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Tell them there\u0026rsquo;s a leak in a gas main. It\u0026rsquo;s an emergency and they\u0026rsquo;ll leave, but it doesn\u0026rsquo;t feel as terrifying as a giant crow battling a river dragon, so nobody will be immobilized from panic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe commissioner\u0026rsquo;s gaze strayed to the dog again. \u0026ldquo;Do you think they\u0026rsquo;ll believe that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ll want to believe that,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to persuade them, Commissioner Clarke. They\u0026rsquo;ll do the persuading themselves.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah made no further argument, and Clarke nodded reluctantly. \u0026ldquo;Very well. I\u0026rsquo;ll get my forces moving on an evacuation immediately. Let me know if there\u0026rsquo;s anything else we need to do.\u0026rdquo; She signaled to a few of her deputies and issued quick orders to begin organizing an evacuation. \u0026ldquo;And listen to these people. They\u0026rsquo;re experts on this matter, and I expect you to work closely with them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer lieutenant nodded. \u0026ldquo;Understood, ma\u0026rsquo;am. I\u0026rsquo;ll get everything rolling.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Have Whyte cancel my appointments for the rest of the day,\u0026rdquo; she told him. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll meet you in the situation room in just a few minutes. Go on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe commissioner hesitated in the doorway before following her deputy out. \u0026ldquo;I have one last question, if you don\u0026rsquo;t mind,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Why us? Why has London suddenly become a magnet to this sort of event?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not only you,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re just doing a better job of keeping it quiet in most other places. But that flock of mad geese in British Columbia\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the sinkholes full of slime in Wyoming\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. they\u0026rsquo;re not different.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah looked grim, but didn\u0026rsquo;t argue with him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you,\u0026rdquo; the commissioner said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. that helps.\u0026rdquo; She exited the room, leaving the Vatican emissaries and former Team Three alone together.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair to look at the ceiling. \u0026ldquo;Tell me,\u0026rdquo; she said to the air, \u0026ldquo;when was the last time you heard from the archivist? My orders for her are even more clear than the ones about you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Grace exchanged a look. Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s attention fixed on the grain of the wooden table.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah laughed without humor. \u0026ldquo;So you do know. And I\u0026rsquo;d bet the farm that she\u0026rsquo;s here in London, too.\u0026rdquo; Shah waved for her assistants to begin packing up their briefing materials. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll work with you for now. I know better than to bite a helping hand. But you certainly can\u0026rsquo;t expect me to overlook it if you\u0026rsquo;re aiding and abetting an active magician. And don\u0026rsquo;t try to tell me Asanti isn\u0026rsquo;t doing magic anymore,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;d like to think we all respect one another enough that you wouldn\u0026rsquo;t lie to my face.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti! Aren\u0026rsquo;t you ready yet?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked. He had a polishing cloth in his hand and was slowly working his way through a pile of tiny pawnshop crosses, each more tarnished than the last.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHere in Weird London, they didn\u0026rsquo;t last long anymore; even the ones that were pure silver and not silver-plated nickel turned black over the course of a few weeks, just from the ambient magic of the place. The process of cleansing them so they could be used again was increasingly time-consuming, and of increasingly desperate importance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Almost. I just need a little while longer. I might be very close to figuring something out that would be a tremendous help.\u0026rdquo; Asanti burrowed through stacks of books and loose papers. \u0026ldquo;If Comte Lanjuinais was correct in his analysis of the ebb and flow of magic, that means that there might be a better way to shield ourselves than toting around armloads of old jewelry. I just\u0026mdash;I\u0026rsquo;m so close.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti turned to Frances, who was busy filling flasks with a fluid that moved like melted cheese and smelled like earwax. \u0026ldquo;Where is the book the Maitresse gave to me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Ask Perry?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry sat on the floor across from Liam, eyes closed as if in meditation. Ordinarily Liam would have resented him for slacking when everyone else was so hard at work, but the man-angel hybrid was looking really rough. Half his face sagged, and there were patches of cracked skin on his fingers that light shone through. That light pulsed now, pink like a sunset.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry,\u0026rdquo; Frances said. \u0026ldquo;The book?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry\u0026rsquo;s nose wrinkled. \u0026ldquo;Do you guys hear something?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam listened. He did hear something, now that Perry mentioned it; a scratching sound from down the hall. A pounding\u0026mdash;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA gorilla broke the door down. The animal was white as tallow, smooth and indistinct around the edges, and it gleamed like ivory. It was familiar, though Liam had trouble placing it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Jesus fuck!\u0026rdquo; Liam leaped out of his seat, unleashing a cascade of silver pendants onto the floor, and dove for his silver-plated crowbar. Luckily that was the first thing he\u0026rsquo;d cleansed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe gorilla paused in the ruins of the library door to size them up, then it loped toward Asanti. Liam moved to block its way. A water buffalo followed the gorilla through the door; then a tiger; then a water dragon. None of them had hair, and their fine details seemed lost, like they were figurines come to life. Maybe they were, at that.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam raised his silver-plated crowbar and took a swing at the gorilla. The weapon bounced off its surface and left a dent, as if were made of butter. He pulled the crowbar back. It was covered with streamers and droplets of\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. wax? These things were made of soft wax.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe enraged gorilla lost its shape. The blob rushed toward Liam, engulfing his striking arm, his fingers, flowing into his mouth. The taste of wax filled his head. He convulsed to try to break free but found he was trapped, struggling just to breathe through his single unblocked nostril. He rolled his eyes wildly to try to see what was happening in the rest of the room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances lit one of her flasks\u0026mdash; the smell of earwax and brown sugar was even worse when it burned\u0026mdash;and threw it at the dragon. It caught fire. The creature softened and bubbled, losing streamers of its body. The streamers flowed out of the room. A new animal came in to replace it: a rhinoceros. It hurtled toward Frances, bowling her over.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe water buffalo had Perry cornered. Perry held up a crucifix in both hands. It was a massive thing, probably two hundred years old and meant as part of some cathedral\u0026rsquo;s fittings. The buffalo tried to reach Perry without touching the cross, its form stretching in gentle waves.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti grabbed a handful of Liam\u0026rsquo;s crucifixes from the floor and threw them all at the buffalo. Wax splattered out of the animal like blood from bullet holes. It roared and dissolved, crashing over Perry like a wave. It froze in place, trapping him just like Liam himself was trapped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam renewed his efforts to free himself. The wax was still soft, and he could work his fingers free, but it kept re-forming around him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhile the others were fighting, the tiger loped around the room, sniffing at the books, Asanti\u0026rsquo;s notes, the people themselves. It knocked over furniture and rummaged through what it found there. Eventually, it roared and left the room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere were other sounds from elsewhere in the school: banging, scraping. Things fell and broke. Liam tried to speak, but all he could do was bite and drool into the wax in his mouth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then, with no warning, the wax flowed away, freeing Liam. He coughed and struggled, tried to grasp the animal and keep it pinned down, but it just passed around his fingers and back through the door.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAlone once more, Asanti, Perry, Frances, and Liam stared at one another. Their chests heaved from exertion and adrenaline. The whites of their eyes were visible all the way around.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam opened his mouth and wiped at his tongue to try to erase the taste of wax, and Asanti silently handed him a flask she pulled from her bottom desk drawer. He took a swig. It was whiskey, and a good one, too. He took another swig, then passed the flask on to Perry. Perry took a solid gulp.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTheir silence held for one more minute, as they each surveyed the disarray in the library. The toppled chairs, the upended bookshelves.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen they all spoke at once.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What the fuck just happened?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They were looking for something,\u0026rdquo; Frances said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is everyone all right?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMemory caught up with Liam. He had seen these wax animals once before\u0026mdash;or something like them. They\u0026rsquo;d been trapped in Grace\u0026rsquo;s memory of the day she\u0026rsquo;d been tied to her candle. And in her memory there were creatures just like these.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Her candle.\u0026rdquo; He darted out of the library, down the hall, to the room Sal and Grace were sharing, where Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle burned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was gone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTeam One established a cordon around the place where the tornado would touch down, and despite Sal\u0026rsquo;s worst suspicions, they handled the evacuation in conjunction with the Metropolitan Police without any argument. This left the Bookburners with precious little to do, for now, except worry about what would happen if Asanti arrived.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTeam One had established a generous perimeter to catch anything that tried to flee the affected area, but Team Three\u0026mdash;what used to be Team Three\u0026mdash;had moved closer to the heart of the action. There was a traffic circle here with a fountain and statue in the center. Some man on a horse, hand upraised. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t the heart of Weird London, but there were signs that some weirdness had trickled in. The statue was furry around the knees; the post box kept opening and closing like a mouth trying to speak; the name of the wine store across the way had changed on the sign every time they looked at it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal didn\u0026rsquo;t mean to watch Grace, but as long as they were only waiting for the storm, before there was real work to do, she couldn\u0026rsquo;t help it; her attention turned toward the other woman reflexively, like a sunflower facing the sun. Grace treated the soldiers of Team One with a certain distance, not much like people she had worked with. It was obvious they knew each other; she asked after a few old injuries. But that was as close to personal talk as they got. Nobody from Team One asked Grace any questions at all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried to calculate how long Grace had spent with Team One. It had been months, enough time to really get to know someone and build up a rapport on any ordinary team. But for Grace, had it been a few hours? A few days? Sal kept trying to do the math in her head, but there were too many unknown variables: how many missions Grace had been sent on, how many hours of regular burn, how often she\u0026rsquo;d gone into overdrive.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you ready?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked her. \u0026ldquo;Do you need anything? We can borrow a bow and arrow for you, or\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m fine.\u0026rdquo; Sal patted her sword from the Maitresse. It still seemed awkward\u0026mdash;not a weapon she\u0026rsquo;d ever have chosen for herself\u0026mdash;but she wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to be picky about using the best tool for the job. \u0026ldquo;Where do you suppose Liam is?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey\u0026rsquo;d texted the rest of the team, telling Asanti and Frances to stay home so Team One couldn\u0026rsquo;t take them into custody. But they hadn\u0026rsquo;t heard back. It was possible the tornado was already affecting their phones; it was possible that something Asanti was doing had created magical interference, too. Hazards of the trade.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He was supposed to meet us here by now, wasn\u0026rsquo;t he?\u0026rdquo; Sal checked her watch, then wondered if it could be trusted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stood up to pace around the fountain one more time. She froze for a moment, then staggered, slow as if she were enrobed in honey. She turned back toward Sal, and the words came out of her mouth too slowly. \u0026ldquo;I feel wrong,\u0026rdquo; she said. Her voice sounded wrong, too; a recording played at an off speed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sprang up to put a hand on Grace\u0026rsquo;s back, to help her sit. \u0026ldquo;Grace! Grace, what\u0026rsquo;s the matter?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She clutched her stomach. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026mdash;I think it\u0026rsquo;s passing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam came pelting around the corner. \u0026ldquo;Sal! Sal, Jesus fuck, can anything else go wrong today? Asanti\u0026rsquo;s being arrested by the bastards from Team One. Hurry!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe raced away again. Sal looked at Grace. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. what?!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pair followed him to Shah\u0026rsquo;s command center, a tent halfway across the perimeter. Frances was there, her hands bound in black iron shackles like something from a bad fantasy film. There was a shroud over her head made of the same cloth as the bags Team Three had always used for books.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti, though, was free. Her hair crackled with power, and her hands shed light as if she held stars in them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah faced her down. \u0026ldquo;If you won\u0026rsquo;t surrender peacefully,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;then we\u0026rsquo;re well equipped to handle your kind by force.\u0026rdquo; She waved at her troops, who were readying an assortment of traps and weapons. Crossbows loaded with bolts tipped with silver, a net hung with barbed hooks. Two of them had drawn swords and, unlike Sal and Liam, looked like they\u0026rsquo;d had actual training in how to use them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal spotted Perry hanging back, quiet. \u003cem\u003eShit.\u003c/em\u003e Wait, he wasn\u0026rsquo;t even supposed to be here, with this much magic coming, was he? He could hardly keep it together on a normal day at this point.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal saved that problem for last.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe first fire to put out was the one that seemed to be burning the hottest. Mench\u0026uacute; was facing off with Shah. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t allow you to do this,\u0026rdquo; he said. He had raised his voice, and his face was reddening. Sal was shocked to see him so flustered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t see how you have the authority to stop me.\u0026rdquo; Shah\u0026rsquo;s reply was strangely mild. \u0026ldquo;My orders are very clear.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Your orders are very wrong. Asanti isn\u0026rsquo;t the bad kind of magician,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;She can save us! She might be the only thing standing between us and the very end of the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Arturo, none of them think they\u0026rsquo;re the bad kind of magician. It starts out with something simple, like love and harmony or a fear of dying, and before you know it, it\u0026rsquo;s blood sacrifices and demon possession as far as the eye can see.\u0026rdquo; Shah pointed at Asanti. \u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s not the first one from the Society to be tempted.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stepped in front of Asanti. Grace flanked her, and Liam pulled the sack off Frances\u0026rsquo;s head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shah, you\u0026rsquo;ve seen what she can do,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Hell, you\u0026rsquo;ve seen her save London before. And you let us go before.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah looked uncomfortable at the reminder. \u0026ldquo;Yes, but I didn\u0026rsquo;t have direct orders. There\u0026rsquo;s a difference between suspending judgment and actively disobeying orders. If all of you are set on defending her, I\u0026rsquo;ll have to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You agreed to hold off on arresting Father Mench\u0026uacute; until after the tornado.\u0026rdquo; Sal took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;Give Asanti the chance to fight, too. We can settle this later. But for now, we all want the same thing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I could just leave here,\u0026rdquo; Asanti told Shah. \u0026ldquo;I could leave and take my friends with me, and you\u0026rsquo;d never find us again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then why don\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo; Shah snapped. \u0026ldquo;Save us all a lot of trouble.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because there is always a price,\u0026rdquo; Frances said. Liam was trying to get her shackles off, and failing. \u0026ldquo;The portals leave an unstable echo, and to do that here, now, with this tornado coming on\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She shook her head. \u0026ldquo;A perfect storm. Anything could happen.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Like that\u0026rsquo;s stopped you before,\u0026rdquo; Shah said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It has! And I won\u0026rsquo;t do it now because I care about the world,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not in this for power or personal glory. I want the same thing as you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Forget what the bureaucrats say.\u0026rdquo; Grace addressed her old commander with less heat than the rest of them. \u0026ldquo;You know we\u0026rsquo;re all fighting for the same thing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah\u0026rsquo;s hand shook as she ran her fingers through her hair. Doubt. That was something. \u0026ldquo;Can you promise me she won\u0026rsquo;t use any more magic for the time being?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;But don\u0026rsquo;t be a damn hypocrite. You\u0026rsquo;re using magic, too.\u0026rdquo; She gestured at the Team One soldiers, still busy strapping on the things that would make them faster, stronger, deadlier. \u0026ldquo;Team One has always used magic. Where\u0026rsquo;s the line?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah\u0026rsquo;s mouth snapped shut. \u0026ldquo;Fine,\u0026rdquo; she said at last. \u0026ldquo;Fine. The magicians can fight with us. But if they try to leave once the storm passes, it\u0026rsquo;s going to get ugly.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll deal with that then,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She took a deep breath and turned to Perry. He was wrapped in layers of scarves and gloves, presumably to conceal his unraveling. \u0026ldquo;Why are you here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle was stolen,\u0026rdquo; Liam answered, before Perry could speak. \u0026ldquo;Bunch of wax animals burst in and took us by surprise, nothing we could do. Must have been that wizard, what was his name? Andropond? Anderpot?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Antopov,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026mdash;he\u0026rsquo;s still alive?\u0026rdquo; Her fingers curled into claws.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have to go get the candle back,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We have to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no time for that right now, even if we knew where to look. I\u0026rsquo;ll stay and fight. We\u0026rsquo;ll deal with the rest later on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah looked troubled. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll dispatch a few men to retrieve it. This is very serious.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why would you even care?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked Shah.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We always worried what would happen if Grace, ah, fell into the wrong hands,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. She spent another hard look on Asanti and Frances, who were slowly moving toward the fountain. \u0026ldquo;Look, you can stay and fight. But that\u0026rsquo;s the only leeway I\u0026rsquo;ll give you. Don\u0026rsquo;t ask me to give one more inch on this. And if you don\u0026rsquo;t go easy when it\u0026rsquo;s time, then it\u0026rsquo;s going to be harder than it has to be for all of us. Get yourselves geared up. We only have\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;she looked at her watch\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;another twenty minutes. Don\u0026rsquo;t waste any time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFinally, Sal could attend to her brother. She pulled Perry to the side for a private conversation, or at least as private as they were going to get right now. \u0026ldquo;Go home,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You can\u0026rsquo;t be here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry didn\u0026rsquo;t meet her eyes. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll be where I need to be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This isn\u0026rsquo;t just the rising tide. You\u0026rsquo;re going to have an attack, or an episode, or\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I still get to make my own choices, don\u0026rsquo;t I?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She knew she was wrong, but she had to say it anyway. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t just get to go around making \u003cem\u003estupid\u003c/em\u003e choices.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry put his hands on both of her arms and squeezed. \u0026ldquo;I know you\u0026rsquo;re looking out for me,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;but the world needs what it needs, and I\u0026rsquo;m not going to choose self-preservation over\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. everything else. Existence.\u0026rdquo; He paused, his hands dropping to his sides. \u0026ldquo;The thing is, nothing lasts forever, Sal. This was never a permanent fix.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam scanned the Team One caravan. It had to be here somewhere.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe sword. The magic sword. The one that Team One had let him borrow once before, at the last Battle of London. It had been his crowning moment of awesome, the signature element by which the world recognized him, and if he could get it back\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. He absolutely wouldn\u0026rsquo;t name it Glamdring. He wouldn\u0026rsquo;t.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe totally would.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah noticed him scoping out the gear as if he were a burglar, and angled herself between him and the nearby truck. \u0026ldquo;Are you looking for something in particular?\u0026rdquo; she asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ah, no, I just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; He faltered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s the sword, isn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam jumped. \u0026ldquo;How do you know about\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;My reports are very detailed,\u0026rdquo; Shah said drily. \u0026ldquo;And I was here last time, too. You want to borrow the sword again?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can I?\u0026rdquo; Liam said, eager as a schoolboy at a candy store. \u003cem\u003eWay to play it cool\u003c/em\u003e, he thought.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s yours if you want it,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. She pulled open a long olive-drab box. The sword was there, in a loose jumble of pole arms and other blades. \u0026ldquo;It was this one, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam snatched it out of the box before she could change her mind and took a few experimental swings at the air. It was exactly as smooth as he remembered, like butter in his hands.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can I keep it?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah scoffed. \u0026ldquo;Ah, hell no, son. I\u0026rsquo;m only letting you put your hands on it because I believe even a prisoner gets a fighting chance. You\u0026rsquo;ll be giving it back soon enough. Among other things.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam held the sword a little tighter. \u0026ldquo;Just as long as we get to save the world first,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t care what you\u0026rsquo;re planning for after.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBecause he didn\u0026rsquo;t think Team One could touch a hair on their heads, if it came to that. No sense saying it out loud, though. At least not where anyone from Team One could hear him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe wound his way over to Frances. She was staring at the patches of fur on the fountain, rolling her chair back and forth like she had too much nervous energy. \u0026ldquo;Hey! Frances!\u0026rdquo; He struck a pose with his new acquisition. \u0026ldquo;Look what I\u0026rsquo;ve got! Isn\u0026rsquo;t it great?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe smiled at that, and he felt a giddy relief. Until she said, \u0026ldquo;What are you, twelve?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I am at least thirteen,\u0026rdquo; he said, with as much offended dignity as he could pretend to have. He struck another pose. \u0026ldquo;Come on, Frances, you know this is cool.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe pulled the knapsack off the back of her chair and began to rummage around in the bag. \u0026ldquo;It suits you,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m just a hair disoriented right now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam lowered his sword. \u0026ldquo;Yeah, hey, are you all right? Who knew Team One would be here, huh?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll be all right. It\u0026rsquo;s just that I\u0026rsquo;d geared up for one kind of fight and now we have another one right on its heels.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t worry, I won\u0026rsquo;t let them take you,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ll have to climb over my cold, dead body before they lay a finger on you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances lit up. \u0026ldquo;You say the sweetest things,\u0026rdquo; she murmured. She took her glasses off and turned them over and over again in her hands. \u0026ldquo;You know, Liam, I\u0026rsquo;ve been thinking that we should have a talk.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh yeah? You on the market for a test dummy?\u0026rdquo; He shuddered. \u0026ldquo;The answer is no, find some other unsuspecting sod to do it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances smacked him lightly in the ribs. \u0026ldquo;No, you dolt. It\u0026rsquo;s just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. at a time like this, you know, when you become so aware of how fragile the world is, and how fleeting happiness can be\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why are you talking like we\u0026rsquo;re all going to die?\u0026rdquo; Liam crouched in front of her. \u0026ldquo;Listen, it\u0026rsquo;s going to be okay. Tell me any time you need an ear, and I\u0026rsquo;m happy to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, for God\u0026rsquo;s sake, just shut up for two minutes,\u0026rdquo; Frances said, and she pulled him forward by his shirt to kiss him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam fell backward onto his ass. \u0026ldquo;Um,\u0026rdquo; he said. He looked up at her, trying and failing to sort through the hundred conflicting thoughts he was having. Her eyes were wide, and he never knew her eyelashes were so long. \u0026ldquo;I, um\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; He pulled himself back onto his feet, kissed her fast, then said, \u0026ldquo;\u0026mdash;I should see about\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the thing. To get ready.\u0026rdquo; He walked away as fast as he could without running, hoping nobody would notice just how many shades of red he\u0026rsquo;d turned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace felt like she was underwater. She could breathe, of course, not that she strictly needed to. But moving was a little more difficult than it should be; the air resisted her more thoroughly than usual. Her chest felt tight and heavy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eEvery now and again, a sensation would strike her: a jolt like electricity down her thigh; icy needles along her spine; once, for just a single breath, her skin felt such heat and pain that she was surprised to find no marks when it passed. Antopov was busy.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry gave her a strange look when these things happened, as if he could see what she was feeling, but neither of them spoke of it. Grace was grateful to him. She wondered what Antopov could possibly be doing, why he would want her candle, after all this time. She wondered if this would be the day she would die, finally, her wick trimmed and her flame snuffed a hundred years later than was just.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal, at least, was too preoccupied to notice Grace\u0026rsquo;s affliction, because Perry was at the top of her agenda. Grace listened to them argue, without comment of her own.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry, you need to stay out of this,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Get out of the area. Hell, get out of town. You won\u0026rsquo;t be able to keep things up.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can keep up,\u0026rdquo; Perry said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;At least go searching for Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle, since she won\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry, you\u0026rsquo;re \u003cem\u003eallergic to magic\u003c/em\u003e. This is the worst place for you to be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal, listen to him,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;He can make his own choices.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And I choose to stand and fight,\u0026rdquo; Perry added.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked miserably from Perry to Grace and back again. \u0026ldquo;I just don\u0026rsquo;t want you to die,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Neither one of you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All things pass,\u0026rdquo; Perry said. He looked at the sky. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t grieve before they have done so.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere are signs and portents before a tornado hits. The wind grows still, then kicks up. Birds and small animals grow unsettled, and clouds move too fast across the sky.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA magical tornado has its own signs and portents, too. The air grows heavy, or too thin, in patches. The sky glows rosy, and the shapes of things turn amorphous, uncertain.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace took a sip of the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s gift, just drops on her tongue, and then she could see the currents of magic forming, too: glowing tendrils weaving their way together. It was beautiful.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe tiny army of defenders looked at one another for strength and raised their weapons, waiting. Mench\u0026uacute;, Asanti, and Frances waited on the far side of the block; surrounding them was Team One, armed with crossbows, catapults, napalm, and an assortment of sharp and pointed melee weapons.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s coming,\u0026rdquo; Perry said. He bowed his head as if in prayer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can see it,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She watched the nexus of the tornado, tense, waiting for something to happen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then black frogs boiled out of the ground in bubbles of mucus. The frogs had one eye, or five, or a hundred; they were the size of a dinner plate, a Labrador, a pony. One of them fixed its eyes on Sal, mouth half-open. Inside it had rows and rows of sharp teeth. It lashed out with its tongue toward Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace burned to go faster and hurled herself toward the frog, aiming to grab its tongue and use the frog as some kind of morning star against the rest of them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut there was no burn for her, no extra boost of speed. She toppled toward the frog as if she were just an ordinary person, capable of only ordinary feats. The frog\u0026rsquo;s tongue missed its target and returned to its mouth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen Sal beat her to it. Sal and her magic sword, stabbing the frog through its skull. The frog dissolved into a grayish slime, melding with the mucus it had hatched from.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace froze, not quite able to process what had just happened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe burn hadn\u0026rsquo;t worked. She was broken. She was \u003cem\u003eslow.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA shower of Team One\u0026rsquo;s arrows fell around her, impaling an assortment of frogs. Sal had already moved on, slicing through the fray like an elegant kinetic sculpture.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry appeared by Grace\u0026rsquo;s side. \u0026ldquo;Watch out!\u0026rdquo; He pulled her away roughly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe scent of Frances\u0026rsquo;s concoction rose up from the field, where some of the frogs burst into stuttering flames: orange and blue, but somehow the \u003cem\u003ewrong\u003c/em\u003e orange and blue.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace strengthened her resolve. She wasn\u0026rsquo;t fast, but she hadn\u0026rsquo;t always been fast, and she still knew how to fight. She turned to the nearest frog, a smaller one, and kicked it. It flew in a wide arc and bounced off the statue\u0026rsquo;s ankles. Another frog leaped on her, its teeth grinding into her shoulder. She ignored the pain and wrestled it to the ground, fracturing its legs and tearing out its tongue before turning to her next opponent.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe magic heightened around them, and everything was suffused with a brilliant pink glow. Some of the frogs were melding together now. They created a thing made of many eyes and teeth and dozens of whipping, razor-sharp tongues.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace\u0026rsquo;s palms bled. She circled the monster.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal danced in before her, sword flashing. Liam, too, seemingly ten feet tall. The monster roared and reached for them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace heard a noise: a singing, sweet and complex. A churning hole opened in the middle of the roundabout. The fountain that had stood there crumbled into nothing. Grace could see through the hole; it contained a universe, screaming and chaotic. The edge of the pit reached for Grace. It pulled her down, under, and then she was somewhere else.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut she could still see the other world, the real world, the precious island she was trying to protect. She could see the whorls of magic surrounding it and suffusing it. The tornado, howling and spinning. The whole of it spread in front of her, tiny and suddenly too comprehensible. She watched Sal and Liam destroy a monster, and look around to see where she had gone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd there was Perry, a bright, twinned shadow, with strands of light streaming from every part of him. Pieces of the tornado were attaching to him, as if he were a sponge soaking in magic. He collapsed, twitching and sick from too much power.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA blow came, like a kick to the stomach. She realized that one of the lines of magic was connected to her. She traced it to see where the other end went. Down, around, stretching and thin, then thicker. She found another place in London, near Heathrow Airport, surrounded by its own whirlpool of magic.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat, she knew, was where she would find her candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; saw Grace vanish into the chasm. He had waded into the fray, doing violence to frogs with the vigor of a man a third his age, though he would surely pay for it later. He was paying for it already; the air fizzed against his skin like he\u0026rsquo;d been doused in vinegar, and his vision split and combined; three worlds, then one, then two. He couldn\u0026rsquo;t be sure if it was his eyesight, or if the world were truly splitting. Against that, what did a few sore joints matter?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe pelted toward Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah had allowed Asanti and Frances to fight, but she hadn\u0026rsquo;t freed them entirely. Asanti\u0026rsquo;s feet were still in chains, and some inventive member of Team One had tethered her to a catapult.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Asanti, you have to get her back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances threw another flask of her nasty invention, and somewhere a hundred feet away, more frogs burned. Next to her, the catapult rocked and a barrel of silver dust scattered over the field of battle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eScent burst over them, overwhelming: cedar, then rotted citrus, butterscotch, sewer gas. Everything jerked sideways, as if gravity had momentarily looked away. A new monster began to condense out of the air. It roared and caught flame, then lumbered toward a Team One artillery unit. They shot it with napalm, but what did it care? It was already on fire.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was staring hard at the place where Grace had gone missing. \u0026ldquo;Oh God,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;I get it. I get what she meant. It\u0026rsquo;s like the portals we travel through. I just need to\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti raised the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s book for all the world like a queen, a god. The book\u0026rsquo;s cover flashed white in the pink light. She began to speak in rolling words that echoed across the field and back again; she spoke in harmony with herself. Her hair and garments lifted. Her chains fell away. She raised her hands high over her head, though the book stayed before her, floating in the air.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti clapped, and waves of something flowed away from her. Silence fell like an anvil, and stillness. The flame monster had gone. The scents were gone. The world stopped splitting into twos and threes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn the heart of the roundabout, the open chasm vanished. Grace reappeared, lying upon a perfectly normal pavement, next to a perfectly ordinary statue. Its knees were no longer furry.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti staggered. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s gone,\u0026rdquo; she gasped. \u0026ldquo;The magic\u0026mdash;I can push it out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pace of the tornado began to slow immediately. A few more frogs emerged from the streets, but their numbers were fewer and fewer, and they didn\u0026rsquo;t fuse again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal helped Grace to the cordon. Her injuries were healing, though more slowly than usual. Perry did much less well; he was convulsing and babbling. Liam and Mench\u0026uacute; carried him away. Sal watched their progress. He got to make his own choices, yes, but why did his options all have to be so bad? She shook herself. Asanti would be able to help him far better than Sal could\u0026mdash;assuming they all got out of this at all\u0026mdash;and in any event, Sal could only deal with one problem at a time. The queue of crap to be dealt with had gotten much too long.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was bowed together with Frances, excitedly talking about the thing they had done. \u0026ldquo;We can do it both ways,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;The magic wants in, but we can wring it out of the system, too. This is\u0026mdash;I have to study\u0026mdash;this could save everything. This could be the answer we needed.\u0026rdquo; She laughed, tears streaming from her eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace squinted at the ebbing heart of the tornado. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s almost done,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;The glow is fading. So now do we\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal\u0026rsquo;s fingers tightened on her sword. \u0026ldquo;Only one way to find out.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; called over to Shah. \u0026ldquo;Tell me,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;are you really going after Asanti now? Are you going to drag us to the Vatican in shackles, now that you see what she\u0026rsquo;s working on? And,\u0026rdquo; he motioned at Perry, \u0026ldquo;what we\u0026rsquo;re willing to sacrifice to save everyone else? Is your justice worth more than the chance to save the world?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah took aim with a crossbow and fired. The frog she targeted splintered into pieces of ice, skittering across the pavement. Her face was troubled. \u0026ldquo;Did she really\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;? Hmmm.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal spoke again. \u0026ldquo;Please, Shah. You know we\u0026rsquo;re not on the wrong side of this. And we\u0026rsquo;re working to preserve everything we know. Even Asanti. Especially Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShah lowered the crossbow to turn her gaze on Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;Father, I have my orders,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not going to get me to say I don\u0026rsquo;t intend to follow them. And Asanti can\u0026rsquo;t hide from the Vatican forever.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBefore Sal could chime in, Shah raised her crossbow again, sighting along the street. \u0026ldquo;Still,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m awfully busy with cleanup duty here. It\u0026rsquo;s very chaotic, isn\u0026rsquo;t it? It would certainly be a shame if you disappeared in all the confusion, before we had a chance to pin you down.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Thank you,\u0026rdquo; said Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;We won\u0026rsquo;t forget this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;d better forget it,\u0026rdquo; Shah said. \u0026ldquo;This never happened.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Mench\u0026uacute;, I want all of you to take Perry home and see if you can help him,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Please. Anything you can\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Her voice cracked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I have an idea,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, breathless. \u0026ldquo;I think I can bring him back from this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Grace, while they\u0026rsquo;re busy, let\u0026rsquo;s look for your candle,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s no time to waste.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know where it is now,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e5.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe airport hotel was soulless, as most of them are\u0026mdash;a desperate assemblage of concrete, industrial carpeting, and mass-produced light fixtures, thrown together in an artless way as if to acknowledge that nobody would ever choose to stay there. The place was the living embodiment of unpleasant necessity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lobby was deserted; not even a clerk at the desk, if they had wanted to check in. Then again, \u0026ldquo;Hi, do you have a guest who brought in a big candle? We need to steal it back from them,\u0026rdquo; probably wasn\u0026rsquo;t the sort of question the concierge was prepared to help them with.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How do you know what room to look for?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stared up at the far corner of the building. \u0026ldquo;I just know. Unless they\u0026rsquo;ve moved the candle, which could mean he\u0026rsquo;s bringing it\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal moved toward the stairwell. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s make sure that doesn\u0026rsquo;t happen.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey crept up floor by floor, going slower and slower the closer they came to their destination. Grace was impassive, as if she were in exactly this amount of peril every day, but Sal felt a stew of emotions on her behalf. Mostly terror, in the flavors of fear of mortality, uncertainty, and confusion.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace led Sal to the fifteenth story and into a maze of indistinguishable hallways. There were no windows, which lent the whole endeavor the feeling that it was taking place in a bubble where time did not pass.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey should be so lucky.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFinally Grace stopped at a room marked 15304. She pressed her palm to the metal. \u0026ldquo;This one,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal knocked, and Grace flattened herself against the wall beside the door, out of range from the tiny fish-eye peephole.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt first there was no answer. \u0026ldquo;What if nobody is inside?\u0026rdquo; Sal murmured. \u0026ldquo;Do you think we could\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door slammed open. A disheveled man peered out at her, red under his beard and stinking of vodka. \u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; he shouted. \u0026ldquo;I asked not to be disturbed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace peeked past Sal and saw his face, with deep furrows down one side as if someone had scratched the skin away and it had never regrown. \u0026ldquo;Antopov,\u0026rdquo; she hissed. And then everything happened at once.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace pushed past Sal into the room, and tackled Antopov to the ground. She punched his face twice. He groaned and curled into a ball.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA menagerie of wax creatures descended on Grace, beginning with an alligator, snapping at her. Grace wrestled its snout closed. Sal slipped inside and let the door close behind her. She finally got a better look at the room. The walls were dripping with streamers of wax, and so was the furniture.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd Grace\u0026rsquo;s candle was indeed here, burning as steady as ever. It was surrounded by a circle of something rust-brown and powdery\u0026mdash;dried blood, perhaps\u0026mdash;and little dishes filled with chalk, garlic, metal filings, something that looked like saltines.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal dodged a wave of wax, pulled herself onto the sideboard, and dove toward the candle. She pinched out the flame. The room went still.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe tableau was a strange one: Grace grappling with an indistinct wax monster, nine feet tall and engulfing half her body. Antopov crouching, his hands together at the palms and wide at the fingers, as if he were directing the movements of the wax. He had a snarl on his face, and Sal studied it. It looked like vengeance to her, and like suffering.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe turned around and discovered a wax tiger. Its jaws were stilled inches from where her head had been when she snuffed out the candle. She shuddered. If she had taken just another three seconds longer, things would have turned out very differently.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal spent several minutes thinking through her next steps. It took much longer than that to follow through, and by the time she was done, the sun had long set.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe carved apart the animals, then carried the pieces to a series of dumpsters outside. She all but mummified Andropov himself in duct tape. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t be sure that he would stay trapped; she wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure if he could transform in shape the same way his animals could.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t. And that probably meant\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe ordered up room service: a burger and fries with extra soda. It had been a long day, and her blood sugar was running low. She\u0026rsquo;d get through this next part much better if she took care of her body.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFinally, when she felt ready to face whatever came next, she lit the candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov and Grace both woke up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNeither one of them asked any questions. They both knew what the flicker in existence meant; they had both been through it before, more times than she could count.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Let me free!\u0026rdquo; bellowed Antopov. \u0026ldquo;I have powerful allies, they will come looking for me. They will swear vengeance on you!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We should kill him,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, urgent. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s the one who cursed me. Kill him before he can\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We aren\u0026rsquo;t an execution squad, Grace,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;And I think\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I think we could have a very interesting chat.\u0026rdquo; She turned to Antopov. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re trying to break the curse, aren\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov quieted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why would he care?\u0026rdquo; Grace snapped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because he\u0026rsquo;s bound to the candle, too,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov looked away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And he\u0026rsquo;s never had possession of it.\u0026rdquo; Sal looked at his pitiful, filthy garments, his unwashed hair. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ve been waking and sleeping with no warning this whole time, haven\u0026rsquo;t you? One minute you\u0026rsquo;re there and the next\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She drew her finger across her throat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is that true? You\u0026rsquo;ve been like me, all this time, but with no control over when you wake?\u0026rdquo; Grace laughed in his face. \u0026ldquo;Well, that\u0026rsquo;s something like justice, then, for a murderer like you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov flinched. \u0026ldquo;Justice,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;There is no justice in this world, only suffering. The weak and the strong, and the strong take from the weak.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which one are you?\u0026rdquo; asked Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I used to be strong,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But now I am a puppet for my masters.\u0026rdquo; He spat on the floor. \u0026ldquo;I have regrets,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Each time my eyes open, I curse myself for being greedy, for trying to climb too high.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who are your masters?\u0026rdquo; Grace frowned. \u0026ldquo;Everyone in Shanghai is dead now. The Bureau is gone. So who\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A Swedish family,\u0026rdquo; said Antopov. \u0026ldquo;You would not know of them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms.\u0026rdquo; Sal and Grace exchanged a look. \u0026ldquo;How do \u003cem\u003eyou\u003c/em\u003e know them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov\u0026rsquo;s lips twisted like he\u0026rsquo;d tasted a lemon. \u0026ldquo;They found me, after Shanghai,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;I had been friendly with Zilla. A charming woman, cold as a glacier and given to enjoyable displays of excess.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And they looked after you?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. \u0026ldquo;Like the nuns did with me? Laundry, timekeeping\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They did nothing,\u0026rdquo; Antopov said. \u0026ldquo;They hid me in a shack in the mountains, hundreds of miles from the nearest village. I would wake there, hungry and alone. They would bring their children to see me, a lesson in greed and temperance. The wild man, who cannot live and cannot die.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But something changed recently, didn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She circled Antopov, her arms crossed. \u0026ldquo;You found yourself awake more and more, and then all the time. So finally you could leave. If you trusted it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov startled. \u0026ldquo;How do you know? Ingrid came to me, and she said she had traced the candle, that she had found a way to break the curse for a short time, but\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She was lying,\u0026rdquo; said Grace. \u0026ldquo;The reason you\u0026rsquo;re awake is because I choose not to sleep again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov nodded slowly. \u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Once I obtained the candle, I tried to break the binding, but\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. yes. There would be no way for her to do what she had said.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are we going to do with him?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked. \u0026ldquo;We can\u0026rsquo;t just let him go free.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can\u0026rsquo;t we?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. \u0026ldquo;I wonder. Antopov, what would you do if we let you go, and we promised you would never sleep again?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov was wide-eyed, now, full to the brim with a suppressed longing. \u0026ldquo;Why would you do this for me? Why would you not strike me down as I stand?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace snorted. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s a good question. You tell us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I cannot die if you live,\u0026rdquo; Antopov said. He shrugged, and in that shrug he conveyed volumes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shit,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s a problem either way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAntopov hesitated. \u0026ldquo;Tell me, do you know what they are planning?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The world is dying,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;And the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are trying to kill it faster. We don\u0026rsquo;t like killing things so much.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Russian was silent for a long while. His fingers twitched, and his lips made the shapes of words. Finally: \u0026ldquo;Do you swear that the candle will always burn?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not changing my mind.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then go to Greece,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Set me free, and visit the Oracle, and we will count ourselves square.\u0026rdquo; He looked Grace in the face for the first time. \u0026ldquo;I am sorry, agent,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;More sorry than you could ever know. Perhaps one day I will find a way to save both of us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLater, Grace curled up in an armchair, staring at the flame of her recovered candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You still don\u0026rsquo;t have to do this, you know,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace didn\u0026rsquo;t respond.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know you told Antopov you would, but if you feel like you\u0026rsquo;re wasting time\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; Sal trailed off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s fine,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s just really clear that coping with all of these things you used to avoid is bothering you,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to. We don\u0026rsquo;t have to. I don\u0026rsquo;t want you to waste the time we have together.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace sighed. She went to the mirror and her collection of pots and vials and tubes. \u0026ldquo;Back in Shanghai,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;I once bought a little bottle of new perfume. Chanel No. 5, in fact. It was very expensive to get my hands on it, and especially so since I didn\u0026rsquo;t make very much money. But I bought it anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal blinked at this change of subject, but Grace was usually reluctant to talk about her youth, and about China, and she wasn't going to stop this rare revelation just to prolong an argument.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace went on, dabbing cold cream on her face and then rubbing it in to dissolve her makeup. Her eyes were unfocused from looking into the past, seeing something Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t see. \u0026ldquo;I cherished that bottle. It smelled so beautiful that I was afraid to use it up. So day after day, that little bottle waited, hidden in the back of my wardrobe. I told myself I was saving it for something\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. for the right thing. That I would know when it was time to use it.\u0026rdquo; Her fingers traced the pulse points where she would have put perfume: her wrists, her neck, her heart. \u0026ldquo;But I never used it at all. Not a single time. And then you know what happened.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Antopov,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;So you never got to use the perfume you were saving? Grace, we can buy you a new bottle of perfume. We can buy you a new bottle of Chanel No. 5, they still make it! I can run to Boots right now and\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve tried, but it doesn\u0026rsquo;t smell the same.\u0026rdquo; Grace shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Maybe the formula has changed, or maybe I never had the real thing at all. How would I have known?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal sagged with disappointment. \u0026ldquo;Oh. Sorry. Maybe we could\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; She tried to think of another solution, but nothing came to mind.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re missing the point, Sal.\u0026rdquo; Grace began to wipe the cold cream from her face with a dampened washcloth. \u0026ldquo;The point is, if I\u0026rsquo;d known I was going to lose my chance, I would have worn it every day, no matter how ordinary. Not just for festivals, but while I was filing reports. While I was doing the laundry.\u0026rdquo; Her lips twitched. \u0026ldquo;Well, sending out the laundry for someone else to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace set the washcloth down and cupped Sal\u0026rsquo;s face in her hands. \u0026ldquo;Sal, the perfume is you and me. I learned a lesson, and I\u0026rsquo;m not going to forget it. It doesn\u0026rsquo;t matter if I\u0026rsquo;m doing laundry or punching monsters or reading a book. As long as I get to live this life where you and I are together\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I may not enjoy every fleeting second. I know I won\u0026rsquo;t. That\u0026rsquo;s life, none of us gets to be happy all the time. But none of that time is \u003cem\u003ewasted\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh,\u0026rdquo; Sal managed. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. Grace, I love you, too.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti waited until sunrise, and then she threw open the blinds of the library to let as much sunlight in as she could. Perry was laid out on his cot, in the brightest beam of sun she could find.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis convulsions had continued through the night, and now he was still, not because he was recovering, she thought, but because body and spirit had separated too far. Perhaps she could do something about it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was a last-ditch effort, and there was a risk that what she was about to do would sever that connection for good. But it was clear that it would snap before long even if she did nothing. \u003cem\u003eWell, fortune favors the bold.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe took the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s book again, and tried to do\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. whatever it was she had done, that had wrung all the magic out of a single roundabout in London.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs she spoke the words, she felt something flowing through her, rhythmic and strong, as if she were a buoy on a current she could not see. The world grew unbearably bright. Perry moaned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti clapped her hands, and Perry\u0026rsquo;s clenched hands fell open. His mouth opened, and he let out a long sigh.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor a long moment, Asanti was convinced she had killed him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen Perry opened his eyes. \u0026ldquo;Asanti? I\u0026rsquo;m still here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, thank God,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. She embraced him. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m so glad you\u0026rsquo;re not dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Me too,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;m very\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. tired. What did you do?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Rest,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll talk about it later. I have a lot of questions for you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA flash of motion captured her eye, something small and close to the ground. There were still pieces of silver on the floor, scattered under the shelves where Liam had dropped them. She knelt down and touched one. The crucifix had come alive. Its arms twisted and split like branches, and then it grew still.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti picked it up and held it to the morning sun. \u0026ldquo;Aren\u0026rsquo;t you curious,\u0026rdquo; she murmured.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\nMany years ago, Grace’s life was bound to a magical candle due to the experiments of a man named Antopov. More recently, although she’d worked with Team Three for a long time, Grace got a different perspective on things by working with Team One. Asanti pitted herself against the Vatican in the fight over whether magic should be used to fight magic. During the now-famous Battle of London, Sal stepped in to direct the London Police. Among the gifts that the Bookburners received from the Maitresse was a book of magic left for Asanti, which she began studying immediately. Liam received a distress call from a local Laundromat. \n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eCorporal Thavani Shah\u003c/strong\u003e: Leader of Team One.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAntopov\u003c/strong\u003e: The man who tied Grace’s life to the candle\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Andrea Phillips\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.250","slug":"bookburners-s4e07","audio":"","epub":"","mobi":"","pdf":"","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 7"},{"id":"5ad4b0a52eb6130001347de9","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":8,"title":"A Message Across Worlds","released_date":null,"released":false,"strapline":"","byline":"Mur Lafferty","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"https://serialbox.cachefly.net/bookburners/covers/season4/BBS04E08.jpg","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-07-31","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003ePrologue\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eA Different Time\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eA Different Place\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt was nothing like she had expected, and she had foreseen it. The infinite metaphysical plane lay before her, and behind her, and she was painfully, horrifyingly aware of how small she was. Not just herself, but all of humankind. Everything they found purposeful, necessary, important, holy\u0026mdash;it was worth exactly nothing in the scope of this massive place of Other.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eApollo was not with her. \u003cem\u003eHe was not here.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had promised her she would be all right, had promised her that this quick jaunt to this Place would be momentary, a blink, shorter than a breath. But she had been there so much longer. The Pythia hadn\u0026rsquo;t foreseen what this Place would be like, or if Asanti would be victorious. She could only see one way to tether herself, to hold onto home so she wouldn\u0026rsquo;t get lost here, falling through infinity like a frantic kite. Asanti and her power glinted on the horizon, something she could focus on. However, she appeared on both horizons, where the Pythia had come from and where she was going. Beside Asanti in the past were Mench\u0026uacute; and the rest of her team. The vision in the future consisted of Asanti alone, standing under a shining tree. Her eyes were wide and silver, sightless to the visuals around her, but full of all sorts of visions; the kind the Pythia herself got.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOther images. Shadows nipped at her ankles, and blood-red smoke swirled above her. The world was in flux, and it mattered as much as humans disturbing a puddle of water matters to the organisms living inside it. But who was disturbing this puddle?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer Sight was frustratingly dead here, aside from seeing Asanti at each end of her journey. She tried a few steps and found she could walk in this blind nothingness, and her mind began to form something to understand: a road, a sky, and flat, flat Earth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe closed her metaphysical eyes and concentrated briefly, then shot her awareness behind her, aiming it at Asanti as if to harpoon her like a whale. If she could anchor herself to Asanti, she might not get lost here.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe tether struck home, although she may have sent it farther than she had intended. That was all right. That was probably necessary for all of this to have happened, and for the things that would happen in the future. Possibly the near future, but the Oracle of Delphi again sensed the shadow beasts that lurked in the corners of her awareness, and saw her destination so far away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was not going to die here, alone and lost. When she had been anointed as the Pythia after the death of her predecessor (also in the company of Asanti\u0026rsquo;s team), she had promised herself to be more aware of threats, to not die on the whim of a vain moment. She might not get lost, but it would be a very long journey. She took her first step, trying not to meet the eyes that glowed in the sky, focusing on her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eNow (around 2100 hours, GMT)\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eAboard a train to London\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFlights to the ravaged city of London were no longer an option to travelers, but the trains still ran. Liam found something poetic about that. He wiped his hand over his wet hair and shivered. He was soaked to the bone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis phone buzzed and he fished it out of the waterproof pocket of his jacket. He read the notification and smiled, then passed the phone across the aisle to where Mench\u0026uacute; sat with Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey both looked terrible. Mench\u0026uacute; seemed world-weary, and hadn\u0026rsquo;t bothered to clean the blood off his hands and clothes. The bandage around his hand was soaked, and Liam couldn\u0026rsquo;t tell if it was from his own wound or someone else\u0026rsquo;s blood. There had been so much blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti had gone in and out of consciousness since boarding, and Liam wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure you could count what she did as \u0026ldquo;sleep.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe touched the bandage on his neck. He had really gotten lucky there. He looked forward to getting home and seeing Frances. He hadn\u0026rsquo;t felt such anticipation, giving a happy tint to his overall mood of exhaustion and moroseness, in a long time. He had to finally tell her that he could take a step forward, that he could actually show her he cared. He\u0026rsquo;d had enough close calls in his life to know it wasn\u0026rsquo;t just the facing of a possible death scenario; it was something else. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to question it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe was also hoping he had done enough to finally deserve her trust. But then again, things like what he was feeling for her would come along for people much less deserving than him. No one was keeping score, handing out patient, loving women to deserving blokes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How did you get this posted?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked, frowning at Liam\u0026rsquo;s phone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I am just that good,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;My spider was programmed to release some pre-written news items if a number of things happened at once. Mainly all having to do with the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms\u0026rsquo; online activity. You know they\u0026rsquo;re trying to brag about what they did. But this is what goes up instead.\u0026rdquo; He tapped his phone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; smiled wanly and handed the phone back to Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe glanced again at the words\u0026mdash;\u0026ldquo;ORACLE OF DELPHI CLOSES TO PILGRIMS AS THE PYTHIA GOES INTO MEDITATIVE TRANCE\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash; and then slipped the phone back into his pocket. He fixed his mind on Frances as he leaned his head back and tried to get some sleep.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti stirred and found Mench\u0026uacute; awake, staring past her out the window at the twilight farmland outside. \u0026ldquo;Liam\u0026rsquo;s plan worked,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;They can\u0026rsquo;t brag about what they\u0026rsquo;ve done. Not yet, anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHis jacket was ragged and blood-soaked; he hadn\u0026rsquo;t bothered to clean up after the fight. She wondered how they had managed to get on the plane in Athens while covered in blood, but some blood existed on different planes, she had learned. The rest had cleaned up at the airport; one did not wash one\u0026rsquo;s hands in the sacred spring. Even to remove the blood of the Pythia. Especially to remove the blood of the Pythia.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suppose they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be subtle about it, would they?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe sighed and shifted, holding his ribs and wincing. \u0026ldquo;No. Liam has managed to negate the intimidation they are trying to sow. They succeeded in doing the same for the Maitresse; you just missed it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u0026lsquo;Missed it\u0026rsquo; is an interesting term,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. She sat across the aisle, one row behind Liam. The window seat next to her was empty. \u0026ldquo;I would have been very happy to have not seen it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal was cleaner than the rest of them, mainly because Grace had insisted on cleaning the wounds on her arm and hand before they had left. Sal wore a T-shirt with a white bandage wrapped around her bicep. She shivered slightly, and Asanti wondered where her jacket was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace appeared at the head of the car and walked down the aisle, carrying Sal\u0026rsquo;s jacket. She caught Asanti\u0026rsquo;s eye and then glanced away, her jaw working. Asanti sighed. Would she ever win that woman over? They\u0026rsquo;d worked together so long, and still, the trust wasn\u0026rsquo;t there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace handed the jacket to Sal, who gratefully grabbed it and shrugged it on. She made a face. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s damp!\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I cleaned it for you. There was a lot of blood on it,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled at her. \u0026ldquo;That was sweet. Thank you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti turned back to Mench\u0026uacute;, giving the women their private moment. \u0026ldquo;The Pythia\u0026rsquo;s vision came true. Again,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shook his head slowly. \u0026ldquo;I think it was too high a price, Asanti. Much too high. Why didn\u0026rsquo;t she tell us everything that was to happen?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s an oracle,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;She doesn\u0026rsquo;t elaborate, as a rule.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Even when her life is at stake.\u0026rdquo; It wasn\u0026rsquo;t a question.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Even then.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe opened his mouth, and then closed it. He closed his eyes, also. \u0026ldquo;What you did back there,\u0026rdquo; he began, and she stiffened, ready to defend herself. \u0026ldquo;It was well done,\u0026rdquo; he finished.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe let out a breath. \u0026ldquo;Liam, too\u0026mdash;that move at the end was brilliant, brave, and stupid,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Where did that come from, Liam?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s right,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, poking him in the back of the head. \u0026ldquo;You were really impressive.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam grinned somewhat shyly. \u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t know. But it felt good.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Keep doing it,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m proud of you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam looked about to burst with pride, but Mench\u0026uacute; pulled them back to the topic at hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Her last words. What do you think they meant?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat had bothered Asanti. The Pythia, dying in her arms, spouting obscure wisdom that she couldn\u0026rsquo;t give details on\u0026mdash;the nightmare of the magic worker.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think what we thought was a moment in time was longer for her. Maybe a lot longer.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were silent for a moment. \u0026ldquo;Shit,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;That would have sucked.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In short,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said dryly, \u0026ldquo;I think you shouldn\u0026rsquo;t put any more people through that spell before we know where \u0026lsquo;there\u0026rsquo; is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Circumstances called for it,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, trying not to sound defensive.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; nodded. \u0026ldquo;True. I just hope the price wasn\u0026rsquo;t too high.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were quiet for a bit. Grace broke the silence. \u0026ldquo;The other thing the Pythia said. Are we really going to go? To either place?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No one wants to go back to the Vatican,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, echoing Grace\u0026rsquo;s earlier comment.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; shook his head. \u0026ldquo;Agreed, but if what the Pythia said was true\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And it always is,\u0026rdquo; Asanti reminded him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe glanced at her. \u0026ldquo;\u0026mdash;and it always is, then we have to investigate it. The Order will need our help, and we should be there to give it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And get arrested in the meantime?\u0026rdquo; Grace snapped. \u0026ldquo;They don\u0026rsquo;t deserve our help.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; looked over his glasses at her. \u0026ldquo;They are innocents who will be targeted with magic. If you still believe in our cause, then you\u0026rsquo;ll help them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s nothing innocent about them,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, but didn\u0026rsquo;t meet his eye.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll be careful,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;I can get us faked documents, we can hide our faces, it\u0026rsquo;ll get us through the airport.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And then what?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And then we save the Vatican, and make them all say they\u0026rsquo;re sorry for how they treated us,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, smiling.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace surprised them all by laughing out loud. \u0026ldquo;That I would like to see,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;ll never happen, but I\u0026rsquo;d like to see it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBeside her, Sal had gone quiet again, with a faraway look in her eyes, and Asanti marveled at how effortlessly she had taken over leadership of the group. As their trust grew with regards to Asanti and her magic, the team settled into an assumption that Sal would have a good plan for their Vatican approach.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe sun was going down, the only illumination being the shattered, unearthly light that marked London, always glowing with magic on the horizon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eEight Hours Earlier\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eDelphi\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThunder boomed, its accompanying lightning giving the temple an unearthly blue glow. The floor had a purple hue that was unexpectedly lovely. Sal shook her head and put her bandaged hand in her pocket.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam, Grace, do you know your roles here?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Naturally,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, fingering the hilt of his sword.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They are coming,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, eyeing the storm. \u0026ldquo;Step one is complete, I need to work on the next bit. You lot worry about the fighting.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal focused on the Pythia, sitting calmly on her dais. \u0026ldquo;Are you ready for this?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you sure you don\u0026rsquo;t want us to just get you the hell out of here?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked before she could answer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Pythia fixed him with a calm gaze. \u0026ldquo;You know the answer to that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe sighed and nodded. \u0026ldquo;Grace and I are going to flank and ambush them in here. Create a major diversion. Meanwhile, Asanti is going to do\u0026mdash;whatever she does\u0026mdash;for the next bit.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And the whole \u0026lsquo;avoiding a knife in the chest\u0026rsquo; thing?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Your sacrifices took care of that,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said calmly. \u0026ldquo;I am prepared. Apollo is with us.\u0026rdquo; She closed her eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right, Liam, you set up your ambush over there.\u0026rdquo; Sal pointed to the entrance of the temple. \u0026ldquo;Use the storm to your advantage if you can.\u0026rdquo; She looked at the Pythia. \u0026ldquo;Are you ready? Did our sacrifices give you enough ammo?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ammo?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a fight. Everything is ammo,\u0026rdquo; Grace answered for Sal from her spot atop a column.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Pythia nodded. Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t know if she had total faith in them, or was so convinced she was going to die that she just didn\u0026rsquo;t care, but the serenity of the woman irritated her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe focused on her friends, Mench\u0026uacute; standing by Asanti to help her, Liam and Grace getting into position, and then paused. Under the raging storm she heard a low \u003cem\u003ethud\u003c/em\u003e, repeated in a rhythm, like a drum in the distance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eMy heartbeat\u003c/em\u003e, a voice said in her mind.\u003cem\u003e Your life has enriched my own.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eThat is usually done by art and being a good friend\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought. \u0026ldquo;Also, get out of my head.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eThey have defiled the spring. They come.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re coming!\u0026rdquo; Sal shouted, as the storm\u0026rsquo;s wind picked up speed to a deafening roar.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti worked quickly, positioned behind a pillar and reading her book, murmuring some things aloud. She wasn\u0026rsquo;t about to tell the group that this hadn\u0026rsquo;t exactly happened the way she had intended, but everything still fit into her plan, so they didn\u0026rsquo;t need to know. Mench\u0026uacute; had her back, she had the Pythia\u0026rsquo;s, and the younger generation was there to flail about and kick some butt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey would be fine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat thought kept her calm for 1.4 seconds, and was shattered when the rhinoceros charged into the temple.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe beast had a shimmery outline, and Asanti shouted that it was an illusion, but the others didn\u0026rsquo;t hear her, or didn\u0026rsquo;t believe her, and scattered. The thing charged for the Pythia, but she didn\u0026rsquo;t move.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eThey said blood and knives, not blood and rhinos\u003c/em\u003e, Asanti thought, and fought to keep her focus while it ran toward, and then through, the Pythia.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe assassins struck in the chaos brought by the rhino. The storm was a defensive mechanism the temple itself offered, but it seemed to hinder Grace, Sal, and Liam as much or more than it did the assassins. Asanti struggled to concentrate. In the aftermath of the illusion\u0026rsquo;s charge, Ingrid, Gala, two bodyguards, and an older man strode into the room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was hoping you\u0026rsquo;d bring your brother,\u0026rdquo; Liam called. \u0026ldquo;I planned to knock some teeth out of his head.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe women stiffened, but the older man simply gazed around as if he were a lion surveying his savannah. Like his grandchildren, he looked as if neither hurrying nor polyester ever entered his mind. He was too important, too rich, too polished for that. It was obvious where his grandchildren got their slick bravado from. On them it looked like spoiled rich kids tromping around in Mommy\u0026rsquo;s mink coat and heels, but this guy owned the royalty of old magic and old money. And acted as if he owned everything else, too.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti,\u0026rdquo; he said, spying her. He didn\u0026rsquo;t need to raise his voice above the storm; it carried straight to her ears as if they were alone in a silent room. Around him, the bodyguards tried to engage with Grace and Liam, while the granddaughters began to weave spells. He couldn\u0026rsquo;t be bothered with these minor scuffles, clearly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Far Engstr\u0026ouml;m,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. No one knew his given name, so they just called him \u0026ldquo;the father\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003efar\u003c/em\u003e, in Swedish\u0026mdash;of his family. She tried to hold the spell steady in her head. The spider bite on her neck began to throb. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s been a long time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s Farfar now,\u0026rdquo; he said, indicating his grandchildren proudly. She wondered what he had to be proud of, but couldn\u0026rsquo;t spend the concentration thinking about this man\u0026rsquo;s spoiled children. \u0026ldquo;And it has been \u003cem\u003etoo\u003c/em\u003e long. I should have ended you when you botched the trade in the Market.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That was your own servant betraying you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti reminded him. Her brain buzzed with power, the spell finished and ready.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And yet you still manage to be around whenever things go wrong with my family,\u0026rdquo; Engstr\u0026ouml;m said. He stepped over the body of the smaller of his bodyguards, which had just crumpled after meeting Grace\u0026rsquo;s bone-crunching fist. He reached into his perfectly tailored suit\u0026mdash;Asanti actually wondered if he\u0026rsquo;d had it tailored to fall smoothly around the weapons hidden in its interior\u0026mdash;and pulled out two green knives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThese were the emerald daggers stolen from a Celtic war princess\u0026rsquo;s tomb twenty or so years back\u0026mdash;Asanti recognized them immediately. She groaned inwardly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You could just let us have her,\u0026rdquo; the grandfather said. \u0026ldquo;We aren\u0026rsquo;t here for you. She knows it\u0026rsquo;s going to end in blood and knives. She\u0026rsquo;s said as much. She even said it was her blood.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked at the Pythia as if this was news to her. The Pythia nodded. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s true.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t give up,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. She saw Mench\u0026uacute; move out of the corner of her eye; he had gone to help Grace. Ingrid and Gala were keeping Grace and Liam busy. Sal joined him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We really don\u0026rsquo;t want to hurt you. We could even work together.\u0026rdquo; Without taking his eyes from Asanti, Farfar ducked as the other bodyguard flew over his head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Everyone knows what happens to tyrants\u0026rsquo; allies once they are done with them,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;And we\u0026rsquo;re not the ones getting hurt. Did you notice you\u0026rsquo;re already down two bodyguards?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Them? They were merely distractions,\u0026rdquo; the Swede said. He continued to stalk forward like a cat. \u0026ldquo;I couldn\u0026rsquo;t have your weapon stopping us. You really should have sold her to us. Now we have to break her like a toy we don\u0026rsquo;t want anyone to play with.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt that moment, too many things happened. Grace cried out in pain, Sal shouted, Ingrid laughed, Gala swore, and Farfar threw both his emerald knives with a flick of his wrist and a whisper on his tongue.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey flew, far too fast for a human arm to have thrown them. Magic guided and forced them on their way. One of the knives flew toward the Pythia, as Asanti had expected, but she gasped as one of the knives flew directly at her. She closed her eyes and released the spell, waiting for the inevitable weapon to land home.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe bodyguards were clearly a distraction. Grace could get rid of them in her sleep. Well, not the candle sleep, but regular sleep. She hadn\u0026rsquo;t thought of regular sleep much. That felt odd.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eStill, they were bigger than Sal and Liam, and faster than Mench\u0026uacute;, so Grace had to run interference to protect them. This was wasting precious time, time for the wretched would-be slave owners to weave whatever spell they had planned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe should have just punched the women when they had walked in. Made them bleed all over their immaculate clothing. But that wasn\u0026rsquo;t the plan. The plan was to get rid of the bodyguards first, and then the family. When she was done she was going to talk to Sal about the plan and how they could have improved it so it wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have gone so poorly. Then again, no one had anticipated the storm or the rhino.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen a tendril of silver snaked out of one of the Swede granddaughter\u0026rsquo;s hands and wrapped around Grace\u0026rsquo;s waist. It burned, oh how it burned. She cried out in pain and could feel her candle flare, even though she hadn\u0026rsquo;t even begun to tap into its power.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were sucking the life out of her\u0026mdash;no, out of her candle. Extinguish the candle by exploiting her connection to it and they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t even have to search for it. She looked up and met Gala\u0026rsquo;s eyes. \u0026ldquo;Punishment,\u0026rdquo; she whispered, although it was loud and clear in Grace\u0026rsquo;s ears.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIf they couldn\u0026rsquo;t have her, no one could, was that it? Just use her up and toss her aside?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnother second, and another hour slipped by on the candle. Sal shouted something, but Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t hear what she said past the pounding in her ears. Then Gala swore, and Grace felt the silver weaken around her. It was still there, still burning her candle, but she could access some of the power for herself. She looked up in gratitude, expecting to see Sal fighting with Gala.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut it was Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace burned, the world blurred, and then there was blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam cleaned up Grace\u0026rsquo;s mess, punching the downed bodyguards to make sure they didn\u0026rsquo;t get back up. His mind roiled with the criticisms of the others. Maybe he was too much of a follower, but did they want him to openly rebel? What would that look like? Not helping them? Not finding their answers online? Not backing up the magical muscle of the group with regular muscle?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe watched the grandfather stride toward Asanti, and wondered if he should help her. Then Grace got caught up in some magic shit the sisters were throwing out, and Liam moved. His eyes met Sal\u0026rsquo;s, and they agreed immediately. Sal had Asanti; he would get Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam wondered what would hurt these women. Physical pain, sure, but their wealth, their status, their ridiculous mink and suede and who the fuck knew what that jacket was made of\u0026mdash;whale skin, for all he knew. Clothing would be a place they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t expect an attack.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe pulled the bandage off his hand and squeezed it. Pain flared, but blood flowed again, and he clenched his left fist and held the sword in his right hand. Blood dripped from his fist, and he ran toward Gala.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe flicked a distracted finger, and a strong wind hit him. He was ready, though, and he braced himself for the assault, and whatever else she was throwing at him. But as he set his feet wide apart to take the attack, he whipped his left hand just so.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBlood flew through the air and splattered all over Gala\u0026rsquo;s whale-skin coat. The dark spray stained it immediately, and Gala screeched.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam leaped forward and struck at her arm with the sword. She dodged, but it had been a feint\u0026mdash;he slapped his bloody hand on her coat again, then smacked her in the face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe let go a hysterical laugh, remembering the scene in \u003cem\u003eFight Club\u003c/em\u003e where Tyler Durden held a man down and bled all over him, screeching, \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know where I\u0026rsquo;ve been!\u0026rdquo; over and over again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe blow did nothing to hurt her, but the blood distracted her a lot. This woman didn\u0026rsquo;t do much hand to hand, he guessed. Magic was so clean. He grabbed her white silk blouse with his bloody hand and gave her a good, old-fashioned Irish bar brawl head butt. She cried out and staggered backward, blood streaming from her nose.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut the real damage had been done. Her concentration was broken enough to let Grace get free, and she was beside him, punching Gala in the chest and sending her sailing out of the temple.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace gave him a quick once-over. \u0026ldquo;You didn\u0026rsquo;t use your sword,\u0026rdquo; she mentioned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe shrugged. \u0026ldquo;You okay?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe grinned. \u0026ldquo;Yes. Thanks.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen a thunderclap sounded from behind them, not from the storm outside. They turned, and found Mench\u0026uacute; and Sal down, Sal bleeding from her arm, and the Oracle with her head on Asanti\u0026rsquo;s lap, two green knives sprouting from her chest. There was blood fucking \u003cem\u003eeverywhere\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid ran out after her sister, not even bothering with a parting shot. As they rushed to see if Sal was all right, the grandfather strolled past them, his expensive shoes leaving bloody footprints on the marble of the temple.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace tended to Sal while Liam helped Mench\u0026uacute; to his feet. They both looked to Asanti, who knelt with the Oracle. The Pythia lay on her side, looking into Asanti\u0026rsquo;s face. The younger woman\u0026rsquo;s face was pale, her eyes wide and frightened. The floor was covered in blood. So much blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal stood behind them, clutching her arm. Blood seeped out from under her fingers, running down her jacket sleeve.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did we win?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt should have been easy. Asanti had implied it would be. But they hadn\u0026rsquo;t counted on the grandfather making an appearance. Or him attacking with more than one weapon. Or the storm that was supposed to be on their side. Or the aching stigmata\u0026mdash;minor compared to the other problems, but no one operated well with an injured hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the grandfather had pulled the two knives, Sal stepped forward, but then Grace got caught up in a silver rope spell, and looked caught like a fish in a net. She was closer to Asanti, Liam was closer to Grace. She nodded to Liam, hoped he would do the right thing, and ran toward the Pythia.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe dove to tackle Asanti and the Pythia, to get them out of the way of the knives, but light flared, and the Pythia was gone. Sal grabbed Asanti and twisted so the woman would fall on top of her. They didn\u0026rsquo;t quite make it, and she felt the green knife slice easily through her jacket and bite into her arm. Then it turned in midair like a torpedo in a movie, ignoring all laws of physics, and thumped home into the Pythia\u0026rsquo;s back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Oracle had returned from wherever she had gone, but now with a knife in the chest and a knife between her shoulder blades. She sank to her knees. Her eyes were open and glassy, and she toppled onto her side. Asanti rolled over and caught her head, cradling it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re done,\u0026rdquo; the grandfather said, and walked out, stepping into the puddle of blood seeping from the Pythia. Blood swelled around his expensive leather shoes and clung to them, leaving red footprints on the way out of the temple.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe storm increased its fury and howled around them, as the Pythia reached up and touched Asanti\u0026rsquo;s face, leaving a bloody mark. She said something that Sal missed, and then closed her eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did we win?\u0026rdquo; asked Liam.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure, honestly,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, looking at the women on the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re getting away! We should go after them,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. Without waiting for her answer, he turned and ran.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace walked up beside her. \u0026ldquo;You okay?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been better,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She was not injured that Sal could tell, but her face was as pale as the Pythia\u0026rsquo;s, and she looked exhausted. She swayed a bit, and Sal slipped her good arm around Grace\u0026rsquo;s waist to hold her up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re hurt?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked, looking at the blood dripping from her other sleeve.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shrugged. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m angrier about the jacket. It was a gift from\u0026mdash;Perry.\u0026rdquo; Her voice hitched a little, but she didn\u0026rsquo;t elaborate.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going after Liam,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;ll need backup.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded, and she and Grace walked to Asanti, who looked shaken and tired, like Grace. \u0026ldquo;It wasn\u0026rsquo;t supposed to go that way,\u0026rdquo; she said, looking up at them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Clearly,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, looking down at the Pythia. Asanti removed the knives from the body and laid her on her back. She closed the woman\u0026rsquo;s eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s all we can do. The temple will take care of the rest.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought her priestesses all died?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There are always more,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;They will be called. Apollo doesn\u0026rsquo;t abandon Delphi.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace snorted. \u0026ldquo;All the times we\u0026rsquo;ve been here, he\u0026rsquo;s been absent,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLightning crashed outside, and Sal flinched, but Grace didn\u0026rsquo;t act as though she noticed. In the bright flash of light, the temple was white again, the red flush was gone from the walls and floor. The blood had disappeared.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What did she say, at the end?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She said, \u0026lsquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve seen it all, and it\u0026rsquo;s more than you imagined,\u0026rsquo;\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What does that mean?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know.\u0026rdquo; Asanti didn\u0026rsquo;t meet her eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re lying,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti didn\u0026rsquo;t confirm or deny.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fine,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;We need to go. Liam might need us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti got to her feet, still looking troubled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe three women exited the temple of Delphi, into the storm, and behind them the doors slammed shut. Apollo was apparently back to deal with the body of his oracle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam ran as fast as he dared through the dark, stormy forest, tracking the lights of the fleeing assassins and getting soaked in the process. They didn\u0026rsquo;t take any care to be stealthy. Ingrid was laughing at their triumph, Gala was whining about being hit and her ruined clothes, and the grandfather was telling them both to be quiet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHow far did the magical forest go? Liam knew they had to switch back to the regular world soon, and he wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure what he was going to do when that happened. The world was already taking on a disorienting light, flickering like a buggy computer game. He was reaching the boundary of the forest; if he didn\u0026rsquo;t catch them now, he didn\u0026rsquo;t know what would happen when they left the forest and he was still here.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe neared them, and could finally see their backs. The storm was slowing now, and the rain didn\u0026rsquo;t cover his steps as well. Still, they didn\u0026rsquo;t even notice him until he put on a burst of speed and leapt at the blonde hair and fur coat that had trailed behind the others.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala was not soaking wet like he was, these people must use magic like the rich used money: throwing it at every little inconvenience. She went down like a house of cards when he tackled her, though, without any magical defenses at the ready. They rolled once and ended up with Liam astride her, shouting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe was covered in blood, still, which was gratifying. He was about to deliver a threat worthy of the holy warrior he desperately wanted to be, but froze as a blade came against his throat. \u0026ldquo;Get off my granddaughter, you worthless piece of grime.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam stood carefully and Gala scooted out from underneath him. The patriarch stood behind him, the knife biting gently at his skin. \u0026ldquo;You people can\u0026rsquo;t figure out when you\u0026rsquo;re beaten, can you?\u0026rdquo; he asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam didn\u0026rsquo;t answer. He was waiting for the eldest Engstr\u0026ouml;m to decide whether to kidnap him or kill him. He didn\u0026rsquo;t expect the man to let him go. The grandfather tensed, and Liam could feel his decision lock in\u0026mdash;murder, then. Before the patriarch could plunge the knife in, Liam brought both hands up to the knife and grabbed the older man\u0026rsquo;s hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe knife sliced into Liam\u0026rsquo;s neck, but then it was gone, held momentarily against his chest, flat and safe, and then Liam pulled the hand away, up, and then down as he spun away from him. The grandfather gave a strangled shout and bent over, as Liam forced him to follow his movements or else have his elbow broken. Liam kept his grip tight on the man\u0026rsquo;s knife hand, thumbs pressing hard into the long bones in back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace had taught him several knife defenses. \u0026ldquo;You will get cut, when there are knives against your skin,\u0026rdquo; she warned. \u0026ldquo;But the difference is a superficial wound or a deadly one.\u0026rdquo; His superficial wound bled down his neck. He would have to tell Grace that she was right.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Back away or I\u0026rsquo;ll break his arm,\u0026rdquo; he said. Gala scrambled to her feet, but before she could say anything, Ingrid waved her hand and Liam felt a great force hit him like a strong wind. He lost his grip on the old man and flew backward.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid waved her hand again, the forest flickered, and the family winked away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; came up behind him, panting. \u0026ldquo;Are you all right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam got up calmly. \u0026ldquo;Yeah, I\u0026rsquo;m great.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You shouldn\u0026rsquo;t have taken on three at once,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; chided. \u0026ldquo;You knew you couldn\u0026rsquo;t take them all.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I wasn\u0026rsquo;t trying to,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, starting the walk back to the temple. \u0026ldquo;I was trying to distract them so I could slip a BEMP spider into Gala\u0026rsquo;s tacky whale-skin coat.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s mouth hung open. \u0026ldquo;You did what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A Baby Electromagnetic Pulse Spider\u0026mdash;that\u0026rsquo;s what I call it, but it\u0026rsquo;s really just a little bug that interferes with technology kind of like magic does. But it\u0026rsquo;s one hundred percent tech.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And what does that accomplish?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked, applying pressure to Liam\u0026rsquo;s neck.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They won\u0026rsquo;t be able to post anything online until they get rid of that coat. Which will keep this whole event secret for a little longer. And it will be really annoying.\u0026rdquo; He grinned.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; frowned. \u0026ldquo;But tech and magic don\u0026rsquo;t work terribly well together.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam took a handkerchief from his pocket and replaced Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s hand with his own. \u0026ldquo;Yeah. So they can\u0026rsquo;t post online when they\u0026rsquo;re close to magic anyway. When they get away from it, then the BEMP will mess with their computers and phones. Unless she finds it first. And you\u0026rsquo;d need a lice comb to get all the way through her pockets.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe forest flickered again, and they were out. They blinked around them in surprise, and saw a helicopter over the trees, flying off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe rest of the team waited by the anointing river, which had turned red.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal approached them. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s go home.\u0026rdquo; \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOne Hour Earlier\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Oracle at Delphi\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs they exited the van, Grace\u0026rsquo;s head snapped up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Helicopter. They\u0026rsquo;re coming. We don\u0026rsquo;t have a lot of time,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right, get to anointing, everyone,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, bypassing the woman in white who tried to welcome them. When she tried to protest, Sal said, \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re expected. Ask the Oracle.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe woman watched as they all, quickly but respectfully, splashed the water of the sacred river over their heads and arms, and then the world changed as they entered Delphi proper.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be allowed in if we weren\u0026rsquo;t expected, right?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked the woman in white, and she colored, clearly annoyed. She was different from the last woman who had welcomed them. Sal wondered if that woman had the day off. Or had quit after the last oracle\u0026rsquo;s death.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe hadn\u0026rsquo;t quit. The priestess they remembered greeted them, dressed in the same garb as the oracle they had visited before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re coming, we don\u0026rsquo;t have a lot of time,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, waving behind them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come in,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said. To her attendant, she said, \u0026ldquo;Go home.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; the woman said, and the Pythia closed her eyes and hung her head.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then I treasured the time you served the oracle,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You should do as she said,\u0026rdquo; Grace said to the priestess as they entered the temple. \u0026ldquo;Go home.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Before we begin, we will require the sacrifice,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal remembered how the Pythia had taken something valuable to her last time, and it wasn\u0026rsquo;t something that she had chosen. Which she supposed was the point. She steeled herself, waiting for a childhood treasure, or something connected to Perry, to be taken from her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This will hurt,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wait, don\u0026rsquo;t we get a say in what we are giving up\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Liam said, and then gasped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal felt it the moment he did; a searing pain on her left palm as if something sharp had stabbed through, and she saw a hole in her hand. As she watched, a jagged red hole appeared in her right palm too, and blood began to flow from it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMost of the rest of the team made similar exclamations, and Liam looked fearfully at Mench\u0026uacute;. The priest had not cried out at the pain, even though blood dripped from his fingers.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Stigmata?\u0026rdquo; he asked. \u0026ldquo;For Apollo?\u0026rdquo; Concern colored his tone, although he kept his voice level.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is there a better way to take blood for a ritual sacrifice?\u0026rdquo; she asked him. \u0026ldquo;I could have gotten a golden knife, but no one has brought me one of those yet. Now, each of you put your hands on the floor.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBlood dripped on the ground around them. They all knelt onto the marble, and Liam swore as he gingerly put his injured hands down. A red tone spread out, as if the marble were merely water that was quickly tinted with blood. The stone absorbed the blood like a sponge.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe others followed his lead, and when Sal\u0026rsquo;s hands touched the marble, she could feel the temple\u0026rsquo;s hunger for her. She gritted her teeth as she felt it pull blood\u0026mdash;energy, really\u0026mdash;from her. A wild panic raced through her mind as she wondered if it was going to drain her dry, but then she was released; whatever it was that hungered had drunk its fill. Now an even sheen of red stained the interior of the temple; it touched the floors, walls, pillars, and ceiling.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace had already healed, but the rest of them weren\u0026rsquo;t so lucky. Sal fumbled with her backpack, which had been stocked according to Asanti\u0026rsquo;s instructions.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; asked, \u0026ldquo;Do you have enough now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I do,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said, nodding. Everyone except Grace pulled out handkerchiefs or bandages from Sal\u0026rsquo;s backpack, and they took a moment to tie each others\u0026rsquo; hands to protect their wounds.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That was gruesome,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That was your sacrifice. Now, what do you want to know?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do we\u0026mdash;we\u0026rsquo;re here to protect you from the damn Swedes!\u0026rdquo; Liam sputtered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal put her hand on his arm. \u0026ldquo;Is there anything we should know?\u0026rdquo; she asked the Pythia.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Pythia\u0026rsquo;s eyes went white, and she took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;Your business is not done in Rome. You have some decisions to make, some small, one large. They involve your former colleagues, who are going to perish. Unless you intercede. Upon interceding, Alexandria calls you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Back to the Vatican? It\u0026rsquo;s too dangerous,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, shaking her head. \u0026ldquo;We can\u0026rsquo;t return there.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No one wants to go back to the Vatican. They\u0026rsquo;ll be arrested,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, for once agreeing with Asanti. Sal felt a sinking feeling in her gut. Yes, most of the team would be arrested, but Grace would be taken back into the Vatican, considered property, nothing more than a weapon.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay, so we\u0026rsquo;re supposed to go back to the Vatican, then Alexandria for some reason, thanks for that, but let\u0026rsquo;s talk about right now,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Are we ready for the rampaging dandies and their evilness? Although I\u0026rsquo;m not sure how they can get here since we had to go through the whole song and dance to do it, and we\u0026rsquo;re helping you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been wondering that too,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;How are they going to get past all your magical gates? I\u0026rsquo;m fairly sure if they\u0026rsquo;re coming here to kill you, they\u0026rsquo;re not going to worry about the ritual cleansing or the gift of a sacrifice.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They have powerful magic. They stole much from the Maitresse, after all,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said. \u0026ldquo;And if you\u0026rsquo;re going to defile the temple and murder its oracle, then why worry about the proper etiquette to get there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re not asking for a prophecy,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But they\u0026rsquo;re idiots,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Oracle looked at him, and he actually took a step back. \u0026ldquo;That will be the last time you underestimate them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Was that a threat?\u0026rdquo; Liam demanded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThunder cracked outside and the sky began to darken. \u0026ldquo;There are, however, magics in place to announce an intruder,\u0026rdquo; the Oracle said, and then bowed her head sadly as rain began to fall. \u0026ldquo;And to announce the death of my priestesses.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal frowned. \u0026ldquo;You knew she wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to go home to safety, didn\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Pythia\u0026rsquo;s eyes filled with tears. \u0026ldquo;That doesn\u0026rsquo;t mean I couldn\u0026rsquo;t try to convince her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why did you accept the job as Oracle when you watched the last one die so horribly?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked, handing her a handkerchief from her backpack.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA smile touched the Pythia\u0026rsquo;s lips as she dabbed her eyes. \u0026ldquo;You make it sound like I chose to apply for a job, with a resume and a letter of recommendation. It was nothing like that.\u0026rdquo; Her eyes got far away. \u0026ldquo;They broke the first rule by landing on my mountain by helicopter and not taking a proper pilgrimage to get here. Then they killed my priestess. Next will be the defiling of the spring. It will only be purified by blood.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We could help you out but we all happen to be short right now,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, and Sal elbowed him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What can you tell us about the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked. \u0026ldquo;We would appreciate anything that will help us in the coming battle.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti got her black and silver book out of her bag and began to read it, stepping away from the rest of them. The Pythia watched her with interest, and then focused back on Mench\u0026uacute;.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This will end with knives and blood,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes, we know that,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;But how many of them are coming? Povel? Ingrid and Gala? Their toady bodyguards?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They are coming,\u0026rdquo; the Pythia said, sounding far away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s no help,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;We need to get ready. Let\u0026rsquo;s talk about the plan.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e4.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOne day earlier\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eLondon\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This still doesn\u0026rsquo;t seem like much of a plan,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, leaning back in the librarian\u0026rsquo;s uncomfortable chair.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam raised his eyebrows at her. \u0026ldquo;If you had been on time, then you would have heard the full details.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace had her arms folded, but her eyes expressed her worry that Sal looked less than put together. \u0026ldquo;I told you to wait for her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eYes, Sal had been late to the planning meeting, which didn\u0026rsquo;t make her appear like a strong team leader. Sal had hurried in ten minutes late to grab the librarian\u0026rsquo;s uncomfortable chair. She wiped her nose and stuck the tissue into her pocket.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. \u0026ldquo;Fair enough. I was late. But that doesn\u0026rsquo;t change the fact that we need to find out more about these people.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Here\u0026rsquo;s what I got from the net,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re fashion-obsessed, money-obsessed, status-obsessed, and magic-obsessed.\u0026rdquo; He propped his laptop in front of her on the librarian\u0026rsquo;s desk. The screen held paparazzi-like pictures of the vile sisters, Ingrid and Gala. They were beautiful, poised, and utterly fake-looking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal made a face. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think these women have ever been even a little bit dirty. Probably had their pores surgically closed so they wouldn\u0026rsquo;t sweat. But we know all this already. We need more information than their various fetishes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti entered the room. She looked more like herself than she had before, which was comforting. \u0026ldquo;Their fetishes tell us who they are. Their money and power make them think they can get away with anything. And people easily bought will help them believe that, and achieve that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you sure you can\u0026rsquo;t just do a shield spell?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. \u0026ldquo;Protect her that way?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti shook her head. \u0026ldquo;They won\u0026rsquo;t stop until she\u0026rsquo;s dead. That\u0026rsquo;s why we need this specific magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal frowned. She groped for another solution. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s very risky. I don\u0026rsquo;t see why we can\u0026rsquo;t find another way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sat down with her black and silver book and opened it. \u0026ldquo;When you think of one, I\u0026rsquo;ll be happy to hear it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe we can ask Aaron,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;He always has an opinion when it comes to impossible magic. When he chooses to express it, anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Sal said flatly. \u0026ldquo;We are not asking Perry anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when Frances wheeled into the library.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal greeted her from the desk, and she waved back, ignoring Liam so pointedly that Sal looked at him, startled. \u0026ldquo;What did you do to Frances?\u0026rdquo; she asked him after Frances had gotten into a conversation with Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing,\u0026rdquo; he said grimly. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the problem, apparently.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Women! Can\u0026rsquo;t figure them out! Amirite?\u0026rdquo; Sal said, and punched him in the arm. He glowered at her. \u0026ldquo;My point is you should talk to her if you don\u0026rsquo;t understand why she\u0026rsquo;s mad.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We do talk,\u0026rdquo; he said, watching Frances and Asanti confer quietly by the Reference section. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s all we do. She wants more. I\u0026rsquo;m just\u0026mdash;you know. Not ready to get hurt again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked at him. \u0026ldquo;Really,\u0026rdquo; she said, deadpan. \u0026ldquo;\u003cem\u003eYou\u003c/em\u003e aren\u0026rsquo;t ready to be hurt.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe rubbed the back of his head. \u0026ldquo;Fine. I\u0026rsquo;m not ready to hurt someone else. She\u0026rsquo;s someone I really don\u0026rsquo;t want to hurt.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You like her so much you don\u0026rsquo;t want to hurt her. And that\u0026rsquo;s why you\u0026rsquo;re pulling away and denying her your affection. Liam, that\u0026rsquo;s so contradictory I don\u0026rsquo;t know where to start. I just want to slap you on the side of your head.\u0026rdquo; She did so. He winced. \u0026ldquo;Get some courage and tell her how you feel.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And if she rejects me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then you\u0026rsquo;re no different from anyone else in the entire world,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, emphasizing the last few words. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve all been rejected. If she rejects you, Grace and I will take you out to get blitzed. We will jaw about the women what done us wrong. Take a chance, man. Surely every freaking day in this city reminds you that we won\u0026rsquo;t be around here forever.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe rolled his eyes. \u0026ldquo;I can agree with you on that. Can we get back to the plan?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the problem,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t think of much more than: \u0026lsquo;Step one, protect the Pythia. Step two, punch people who get too close to the Pythia. If they bring magic, which they will, then adapt.\u0026rsquo;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, this whole thing really is in Asanti\u0026rsquo;s hands, mostly,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think she can do what she claims?\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;She claims a lot of things.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not really the problem, is it?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked. \u0026ldquo;\u0026lsquo;Can she do them?\u0026rsquo; is usually not the question. Can she do them \u003cem\u003ewell\u003c/em\u003e? Can she do them \u003cem\u003esafely\u003c/em\u003e? Can she do them in a way that won\u0026rsquo;t make us wish she hadn\u0026rsquo;t done them in the first place?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And no one knows the answer to that,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;Might as well be asking if she can guess the weather. She\u0026rsquo;d probably get close, but could be way off.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal called a break to ponder alternative ideas on the problem of the Oracle. They didn\u0026rsquo;t need this headache in the middle of everything else, and she had other things on her mind besides, but Asanti had been adamant that the Pythia needed help.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s up?\u0026rdquo; Grace asked, elbowing her as she paced the gym.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was thinking of the last time we went to Delphi\u0026mdash;that ended in blood too,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;No wonder people don\u0026rsquo;t like us around. Blood and death follow us, from an outsider\u0026rsquo;s point of view, anyway.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace laughed out loud. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s like saying firefighters start fires and doctors create cancer.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal smiled. \u0026ldquo;Good point. Still. I\u0026rsquo;d like someone happy to see us once in a while.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace caught her hand and pulled her close. \u0026ldquo;\u003cem\u003eI\u003c/em\u003e am happy to see you.\u0026rdquo; Then she kissed her, and Sal forgot, for a moment, what was troubling her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances was in the kitchen, inventorying their supplies. Liam peeked through the door, then pushed it open with false bravado.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So it looks like we\u0026rsquo;re off to save the Oracle of Delphi,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;What do you have planned for the evening?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m really not ready to talk to you yet,\u0026rdquo; she said, not looking up from where she had been counting cans. \u0026ldquo;Let me know when you\u0026rsquo;re back from your trip.\u0026rdquo; She said \u003cem\u003etrip\u003c/em\u003e like it was a vacation he wasn\u0026rsquo;t taking her on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come on, Frances, what did I do? Can we at least figure that out and move past it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe whirled to face him and he took a step back. \u0026ldquo;Move past it? That would require us to be moving at all, Liam, and you\u0026rsquo;ve dropped an anchor on whatever \u0026lsquo;us\u0026rsquo; we have. If I get it through your head what\u0026rsquo;s making me angry, and I forgive you, then you will be happy with the status quo. And the status quo is what I\u0026rsquo;m pissed about.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What status quo?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrances dropped her clipboard so she could clutch her head as if it were throbbing. \u0026ldquo;Oh God, you are so dense. Fine. I will spell it out. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. They flirt. The flirting is a signal that they like each other. They spend more time together. They flirt more. They kiss. They get closer. They start a relationship. This is typical, how things usually work. But with you, we stopped with flirt. You still act like you like me, but the mere idea of doing more than that seems to give you the screaming nightmares.\u0026rdquo; She subsided and looked down at her tentacles, waving gently from where they hung from her wheelchair. \u0026ldquo;And if it\u0026rsquo;s because of this, just tell me now and get it over with.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam\u0026rsquo;s jaw had hung open on \u0026ldquo;Girl likes boy\u0026rdquo; and hadn\u0026rsquo;t closed throughout her monologue, but it hung even wider when she implied that he didn\u0026rsquo;t like her tentacles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, Frances, it\u0026rsquo;s not like that,\u0026rdquo; he sputtered, knowing dismally that the more he objected, the more he would be sounding like an idiot who clearly was turned off by her unfortunate curse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve come to terms with my changes. I even like them. I am not ashamed of my body. Where you stand with it is your business. But keep me out of your moral quandary,\u0026rdquo; she said flatly. She wheeled around and rolled out of the kitchen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But you\u0026rsquo;re beautiful,\u0026rdquo; he whispered. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m just broken.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I want to spar,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, barging into Grace\u0026rsquo;s room without knocking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace looked up calmly from her reading chair. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re amazingly lucky you didn\u0026rsquo;t interrupt anything,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe flushed to the roots of his ginger hair. \u0026ldquo;Sorry,\u0026rdquo; he mumbled. \u0026ldquo;I just need to punch something.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe put a bookmark in her book and stood up. \u0026ldquo;No, you need to be punched. If you wanted to punch something you\u0026rsquo;d go for the punching bag. You want punishment, and frankly, it\u0026rsquo;s a little sick.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you know about it?\u0026rdquo; he asked. \u0026ldquo;A good workout will release all my stress. Come on, give me five minutes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Liam,\u0026rdquo; she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. Then she paused and frowned. \u0026ldquo;No, I\u0026rsquo;m no good at this. You\u0026rsquo;re right; my thing is punching. Talking is Sal\u0026rsquo;s thing. All right, I will spar with you\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Done!\u0026rdquo; Liam said, but his face fell as she continued talking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u0026mdash;if you promise to talk to Sal afterward about whatever is happening with your face.\u0026rdquo; She waved a hand in front of his face to indicate his expression.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLater, his jaw ached, his arms were sore, and his diaphragm still spasmed from where Grace had kicked him. But he felt much better.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Tagging in,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, walking past Grace and slapping her hand as Grace exited.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe sat down next to him on the gym floor, leaning against the wall.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Out with it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not just Frances,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s everything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s hugely vague,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Can you narrow it down?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;When I\u0026rsquo;m out there alone, I\u0026rsquo;m confident. I\u0026rsquo;m, you know, a warrior.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And when you\u0026rsquo;re with us?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m backup. I\u0026rsquo;m a follower.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not the hero of your own story,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, nodding. \u0026ldquo;I get it. But Liam, the only person who can fix that is you. If you want a starring role in your life, you step up. Stop waiting on me and Mench\u0026uacute; to tell you what to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eResentment flared, and then subsided. He looked down. \u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;ve made so many bad decisions. I don\u0026rsquo;t trust myself.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal made an exasperated sound. \u0026ldquo;Jesus, Liam, why do you think you\u0026rsquo;re the only one in the world to have ever fucked up? We all make bad decisions. We\u0026rsquo;ve all been hurt. We\u0026rsquo;ve all hurt people. We\u0026rsquo;ve said things we\u0026rsquo;ve regretted and not said things we\u0026rsquo;ve regretted more. And we\u0026rsquo;ve all wanted things so badly that we won\u0026rsquo;t go for them because we\u0026rsquo;ve completely lost hope.\u0026rdquo; She paused, and he wondered if she was thinking about Grace. She refocused on him. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s called being human, and being an adult. You should join us sometime.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe stopped talking and watched him. He realized she was waiting on him to reply, or maybe explode. He just shrugged. \u0026ldquo;Okay.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Okay? Okay. Glad I could help.\u0026rdquo; She got to her feet and offered him a hand. \u0026ldquo;Come on, we need to regroup with the rest. You can talk to Frances before we go.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAfter punching Liam a bit, Grace went to find Asanti before the team met again. She sat down on Asanti\u0026rsquo;s couch and stared at her until she looked up from her black and silver book.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is it, Grace?\u0026rdquo; she asked, her voice pleasant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I want to know why.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; She trailed off, sounding like she was trying to figure Grace\u0026rsquo;s mystery out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why you will go to extreme lengths to help this woman, someone you\u0026rsquo;ve never met, and save her life\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, it\u0026rsquo;s what we do,\u0026rdquo; Asanti began, but Grace interrupted.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;but you won\u0026rsquo;t use all your knowledge and magic to fix my problem.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sat straighter and closed her book. \u0026ldquo;Ah. I wondered when this issue would come up.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve seen you nearly kill yourself with magic, or nearly kill one of us, to solve a problem. And you\u0026rsquo;ve never done a damn thing to help me,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, clenching her fists.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, to be fair, you\u0026rsquo;ve been largely anti-magic since I met you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Would you have been open to a solution before you had something\u0026mdash;someone\u0026mdash;to live a normal life for?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not the point,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t listen to anyone else when they say to not use magic to solve problems.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And yet I\u0026rsquo;m a monster for abiding by your requests to keep magic away from you?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, smiling slightly. \u0026ldquo;Listen, Grace\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Forget it.\u0026rdquo; She stood up and crossed her arms. \u0026ldquo;Logically, yeah, I\u0026rsquo;ve wanted nothing to do with magic. And you\u0026rsquo;ve respected that. I guess I should appreciate it. But if magic is the power you claim it to be, and you can use it, then you holding it back from me is like a parent who won\u0026rsquo;t let their kid get chemotherapy for cancer because it makes the kid\u0026rsquo;s tummy feel funny.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you comparing yourself to a nauseated, terminally ill child?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, baffled. \u0026ldquo;And I\u0026rsquo;m your mother?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace felt that she was losing hold of this argument. She ran a hand through her hair. \u0026ldquo;Yes. No. I don\u0026rsquo;t know. All I know is you don\u0026rsquo;t give a damn about me or my problems, and you never have. But you expect me to support you when you want to use magic to solve every other problem in the known universe.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe turned and stalked out, pretty sure she hadn\u0026rsquo;t won. When she looked back, Asanti still watched her with utter confusion on her face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti laid out the plan, showing what the team could do, and what she could do, and what the temple itself could do. She went into extreme detail, except in explaining how she would manage the magic.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey wouldn\u0026rsquo;t understand that part anyway.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt would be bloody and frightening, but everything should come out all right. Now, to convince the team of that.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt would work. She knew it would.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e5.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eOne hour earlier\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eLondon\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Mench\u0026uacute; would know what to do. Liam knew they would.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam rushed into the headmaster\u0026rsquo;s office where Sal and Mench\u0026uacute; were talking. \u0026ldquo;I think Asanti\u0026rsquo;s having a seizure,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey ran after him toward the library, and found Asanti on the couch, her eyes wide and cloudy, talking. Grace was standing at the librarian\u0026rsquo;s desk, scribbling on a pad.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It will end in blood and blades. My blood. Their blades,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s going on?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s not having a seizure, she\u0026rsquo;s having a vision,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She handed Sal the pad she had scribbled on. \u0026ldquo;I wrote everything down. That\u0026rsquo;s all she says, and then she repeats it. This is like the third or fourth time she\u0026rsquo;s said it since Liam and I found her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pad was full of Grace\u0026rsquo;s tight handwriting, \u0026ldquo;Asanti, the Oracle requires you, requires the team, requires strands of white, requires supplies of red, requires sheaves of silver. When it is finally, finally done, it will end in blood and blades. My Blood. Their blades.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti\u0026rsquo;s getting a vision from Delphi?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Has this ever happened before?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not that I know of,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right, someone translate. What the hell is she saying?\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti stopped speaking and slumped back on the sofa. Her eyes began to clear, slowly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal went to the pitcher Asanti kept on her desk and poured some water for her. The older woman looked around in confusion, reminding Sal of Dorothy waking up after her travels to Oz.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; stuffed pillows under her to prop her up. \u0026ldquo;Asanti, are you all right? Do you remember what happened?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Pythia. She needs us. We\u0026rsquo;re going.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What was that about blood?\u0026rdquo; Liam asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It ends in blood and knives,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It \u0026lsquo;finally, finally\u0026rsquo; ends,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Whatever that means.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That doesn\u0026rsquo;t sound promising,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, looking at Sal. \u0026ldquo;Is it even worth going? She knows she\u0026rsquo;s going to die, sounds like.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She doesn\u0026rsquo;t say \u0026lsquo;death\u0026rsquo; in there. And usually she\u0026rsquo;s careful about that,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Careful,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a prophecy! It\u0026rsquo;s designed to hide the truth among a lot of gibberish.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think we can do something about this,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Let\u0026rsquo;s talk.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t know who exactly will show up, but we know it\u0026rsquo;ll be someone associated with the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Maybe even the assholes themselves. What can we expect from them, besides being total douches?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They will have magical weapons, no doubt,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;They started out with great wealth and shrewd bargaining skills. If they\u0026rsquo;ve been plundering their victims\u0026rsquo; possessions then they will definitely be wielding things better than the stuff we\u0026rsquo;ve got.\u0026rdquo; Her eyes flicked to Grace. \u0026ldquo;Except for that one weapon they really want.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace stiffened, and Asanti continued as if she hadn\u0026rsquo;t noticed. \u0026ldquo;Their weapons will be spelled to find their mark, wherever she is in the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what can we do? Doesn\u0026rsquo;t sound like a magical shield will work here,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;And even Grace can\u0026rsquo;t get her out of the way of a homing missile.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti licked her lips. \u0026ldquo;I said the weapon can find her wherever she is in the world. I am proposing that we take her out of this world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you mean?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked, his voice stony.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If I can briefly move her to another plane, it will break the homing spell on the weapon. She comes back safely.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Never mind that\u0026mdash;hell no. You are not going to cast a spell like that,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;When they see that they didn\u0026rsquo;t get her, they\u0026rsquo;ll just try again. How many times are you going to keep throwing her into another world and hope you can get her back?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Forging an illusion that she has been injured is easy,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;The Pythia and Delphi itself can handle that part. They\u0026rsquo;ll probably need something from us\u0026mdash;blood, likely, to help the illusion along. We don\u0026rsquo;t want to spill her blood, obviously. The tricky part is making sure the knife loses its deadly intent. It will hit its target, but it\u0026rsquo;s not her blood that will be spilled. Then they think that she\u0026rsquo;s dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How exactly do you plan on doing this spell?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe gave him a sad smile. \u0026ldquo;Arturo. You know that the Maitresse left me many things.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re talking about the doors.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I am,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I will make the portal, push her through, and then bring her right back. The temple manufactures the illusion that the knives strike home. Your job will be to keep them busy so they don\u0026rsquo;t see the spell.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They can practically taste that I am not fully human,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;How will they not notice you casting a spell?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh they will know that I\u0026rsquo;m there and doing magic,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;You just need to make them think that I\u0026rsquo;m casting an ineffectual shield or something.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Lying by telling most of the truth,\u0026rdquo; Sal said thoughtfully. \u0026ldquo;I see.\u0026rdquo; The rest of the room went quiet, and she realized they were waiting on her to say the final word. \u0026ldquo;Is it our only option?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can think of no other, knowing the power the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms will be carrying.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So we will create a distraction. You keep the Pythia alive. We will make it look like she\u0026rsquo;s been stabbed, and then like she\u0026rsquo;s died, and then they will leave, thinking they\u0026rsquo;ve won.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You make it sound so easy,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;What if they attack with more than one weapon? What if they don\u0026rsquo;t attack with knives at all? What if they bring that fabled grandfather Povel is always going on about?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then we improvise,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, shrugging. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s what we do best.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam frowned. \u0026ldquo;So how will we know that it\u0026rsquo;s worked? If they win, it ends with her on the floor in a pool of blood. If we win, it sounds like she will still be on the floor in a pool of someone else\u0026rsquo;s blood.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll agree on a signal, to reach up and touch my face or something,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;From there, the temple will take care of its own.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Too bad the temple can\u0026rsquo;t protect her from the beginning,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It does. That\u0026rsquo;s why they have the rituals in place. But they aren\u0026rsquo;t one hundred percent foolproof. If she\u0026rsquo;s injured, and left alone, then the temple will care for her. If she\u0026rsquo;s dead, it can\u0026rsquo;t bring her back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah, I remember,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, grimacing at the memory of the last Oracle dying inside the temple.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wait a moment, why can\u0026rsquo;t we just fake her death before they get there?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked. \u0026ldquo;If you can make a believable crime scene, complete with a bunch of blood, then why not just set it up that someone got there before they did?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal shook her head and spoke before Asanti could answer. \u0026ldquo;These assholes will know she can make a good illusion. They\u0026rsquo;ll only believe a murder that they had a direct hand in.\u0026rdquo; She met Asanti\u0026rsquo;s eyes. \u0026ldquo;Are you sure that you can transport her\u0026mdash;wherever\u0026mdash;and back safely?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes. She will be perfectly safe,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal looked at the rest of the team. \u0026ldquo;Neither our allies nor their egos need another high profile kill. We should do this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; entered Asanti\u0026rsquo;s library without knocking. \u0026ldquo;I have questions,\u0026rdquo; he said when he spied her behind the librarian\u0026rsquo;s desk reading the black and silver book she had received from the Maitresse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to say that he had finally figured out one of her tells, that she dropped her eyes and smiled when she was lying\u0026mdash;or obfuscating the truth. But he had to press.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s on your mind?\u0026rdquo; she said, putting a bookmark in that damned silver-etched book.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I need you to be frank with me. The Pythia. Is she in danger, really, with this spell you\u0026rsquo;re casting?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti sighed. Mench\u0026uacute; relaxed slightly; this was usually the tell when she gave up a truth that she didn\u0026rsquo;t want to. \u0026ldquo;I figured out how to send things to the other place. And how to get them back. I can do it quickly. But I\u0026rsquo;ve never sent anything living there. So no, I can\u0026rsquo;t be one hundred percent sure that whatever is there won\u0026rsquo;t hurt her.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are the possibilities?\u0026rdquo; he asked, his voice even.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It could be inhospitable to humans. Atmosphere, temperature, the like. I doubt there is anything, you know, dangerous in a hungry sort of way there. I\u0026rsquo;ve practiced with inanimate objects, including food, and everything returns untouched.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; thought for a moment. \u0026ldquo;What about time?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about it? I\u0026rsquo;ll be sending her there for a second and then yanking her back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But does time flow differently there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026mdash;I don\u0026rsquo;t know,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I hadn\u0026rsquo;t considered it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If time moves differently there, she could be there for years, decades, eons. It could make her go mad. You\u0026rsquo;re playing with forces you don\u0026rsquo;t understand,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;This has not worked for us in the past.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn\u0026rsquo;t. But what choice do we have?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry approached Sal, weeping silver.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe had readied herself for this. His note had said to come alone to the field behind the school that afternoon, and warned that he was not feeling particularly\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. \u003cem\u003ehuman\u003c/em\u003e today.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAs if Aaron\u0026rsquo;s possession was cyclical, like a menstrual cycle. \u003cem\u003eIt\u0026rsquo;s Perry\u0026rsquo;s time of the month when Aaron takes over and makes him bleed silver\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought sardonically.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA small, logical part of her mind recognized this kind of bad humor thinking as a coping mechanism to stop herself from simply freaking out when she saw him, and she held on to that. She swallowed and forced herself to look him in his quite literally shining eyes.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I thought you were getting better,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Asanti said\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Asanti\u0026rsquo;s magic treated the symptom. Not the cause,\u0026rdquo; Aaron answered, his voice slow and soft. \u0026ldquo;I am afraid.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe left his voice hanging as if he were about to say what he was afraid of, but he didn\u0026rsquo;t follow it with anything.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So\u0026mdash;you\u0026rsquo;re sicker? The magic isn\u0026rsquo;t working? Should we try something new? I\u0026rsquo;ll get Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes. Yes. No. No,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;This body is failing to contain what I give it to keep it moving.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry is more than just a husk for you,\u0026rdquo; Sal said hoarsely, anger flaring. She wanted to strike out at something, and even though Aaron\u0026rsquo;s residing within Perry was what kept him alive, he was the nearest target.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s your brother,\u0026rdquo; Aaron agreed. \u0026ldquo;But regardless of what you think of this body as\u0026mdash;beloved brother, empty husk, a vessel that his soul and mine share\u0026mdash;that doesn\u0026rsquo;t change the fact that it is failing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But there\u0026rsquo;s so much magic, isn\u0026rsquo;t there something we can do? I can talk to Asanti, she\u0026rsquo;s gotten stronger,\u0026rdquo; Sal said, looking over her shoulder as if Asanti were there and waiting with a syringe full of magical goodness to heal her brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Her magic isn\u0026rsquo;t omnipotent,\u0026rdquo; Aaron said. \u0026ldquo;It too is failing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not just the magic, Sal!\u0026rdquo; he interrupted. He sounded more like Perry now, the few times he lost patience with her instead of the other way around. \u0026ldquo;The world is changing into a place where I can\u0026rsquo;t live like this. \u003cem\u003eWe\u003c/em\u003e can\u0026rsquo;t live like this.\u0026rdquo; His voice softened. \u0026ldquo;And Asanti is indeed growing more powerful, but she can\u0026rsquo;t fight the whole world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So\u0026mdash;so what does that mean?\u0026rdquo; she asked, her throat closing up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You know what it means,\u0026rdquo; he said. He turned to go.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal grabbed him by the shoulder, momentarily shocked by how bony he had become. \u0026ldquo;No, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear Perry say it. Don\u0026rsquo;t come to see me just to tell me that all is lost and there\u0026rsquo;s no hope. I won\u0026rsquo;t hear it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t control how much you hope. Hope has nothing to do with an inevitable outcome. Hope all you like. But our time is limited. If you need me for anything, or need Perry, it had better be soon.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe slid out from her grip as if it were nothing, the silver still streaming down his cheeks. She watched him walk away, her own tears forming.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;ll always need him,\u0026rdquo; she said. She took a shaking breath and steeled herself. \u0026ldquo;And I\u0026rsquo;ll always hope.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nIn order to visit the Oracle of Delphi the first time, the team first traveled to Alexandria, Egypt, and made arrangements through the librarian there, Youssef. But their trip to Greece didn’t go exactly as planned. The oracle ended up dead. After an ideological split from the Vatican, the Bookburners faced a crisis of purpose. Liam struggled to get himself on track, especially in terms of his wreck of a love life. He and Frances began to realize they had feelings for each other. Perry is having trouble holding on to his half-human, half-angel life. The Engströms are getting more powerful, and posing a more serious threat to the Bookburners and the magical world every day. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum. \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Mur Lafferty\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.251","slug":"bookburners-s4e08","audio":"","epub":"","mobi":"","pdf":"","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 8"},{"id":"5ad4b0e74a189e00019c6d2f","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":9,"title":"Eating Words","released_date":null,"released":false,"strapline":"","byline":"Brian Francis Slattery","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-08-08","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So it\u0026rsquo;s war.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to be so dramatic about it, Povel,\u0026rdquo; Gala said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s that supposed to mean?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That you\u0026rsquo;re always dramatic about everything,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s the end of the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not for us, it isn\u0026rsquo;t,\u0026rdquo; Gala corrected.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Engstr\u0026ouml;ms were eating again, a second late-night dinner. Unfinished plates lay scattered on the table around them. A roasted chicken with one leg gnawed sat smeared in sauce next to half a slab of pork loin with the fat eaten off it. A pile of vegetables in a dish grew colder by the minute. But the waitstaff was still bringing wine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you hungry?\u0026rdquo; Gala asked the beast on the other side of the table.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I eat every hundred years,\u0026rdquo; the beast said, and exhaled. Ingrid caught a long, pungent whiff of liver.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What did you say your name was, again?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Quelzhemox,\u0026rdquo; the beast answered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala turned to Ingrid. \u0026ldquo;And where did you find him?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;He came highly recommended,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid said, a little too casually for Gala\u0026rsquo;s taste, but she decided she would drop it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala turned back to the beast. \u0026ldquo;You charge a lot for your services.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In the world that is coming,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said, \u0026ldquo;you will learn just how flexible the definition of wealth is. I assume the deal is still on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good. For centuries I have dreamed of destroying a human institution like the Catholic Church.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePovel held up his hand for a high five. Ingrid rolled her eyes and answered it half-heartedly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Just to be clear,\u0026rdquo; Gala said, \u0026ldquo;we are not talking about the entire Catholic Church.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox sighed. Liver again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re talking about the Vatican. More specifically, a part of the Vatican.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fine,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s just a first step.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Agreed. When the new world comes, we will be able to destroy the entire Church, and perhaps the very concept of church, wholesale. Though I am disappointed that I\u0026rsquo;ll have to share in this carnage with others.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You talk a big game for one human-size demon,\u0026rdquo; Povel said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I have colleagues.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which is exactly what we\u0026rsquo;ve hired you for,\u0026rdquo; Gala said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So we\u0026rsquo;re clear on our orders, demonic hyperbole aside?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Target and infiltrate the Societas Librorum Occultorum and destroy it,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You make it sound so easy,\u0026rdquo; Gala said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It is,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said, \u0026ldquo;when you have the right people.\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox disappeared in an organ-scented mist.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I take it that means he\u0026rsquo;s on his way?\u0026rdquo; Povel said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Must be,\u0026rdquo; Gala said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere were new guards at the Vatican, and more of them, Sal noticed. And their uniforms had changed, gotten a little more voluminous. She wondered if they were concealing weapons, and what kind of weapons they were concealing, if so. Maybe they were fighting fire with fire now. And just when Sal wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure fighting was really the answer to all this. To the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms, sure. But to the world changing?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re here to see the Societas Librorum Occultorum,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; stated to the guard who blocked him at the entrance. It felt strange to hear Mench\u0026uacute; utter the words aloud. But now everything was out in the open, wasn\u0026rsquo;t it? \u0026ldquo;Cardinal Fox is expecting us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe guard glanced at each of their faces. Sal\u0026rsquo;s, Liam\u0026rsquo;s, Grace\u0026rsquo;s, Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s, Asanti\u0026rsquo;s. There they were, the old team. Now the Bookburners, a name they were still getting used to calling themselves, rather than having it hurled at them as an insult.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have each of you on file still. Welcome back,\u0026rdquo; he said. Sal could tell it was a formality. The guard didn\u0026rsquo;t mean it. He moved to accompany them to the entrance.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We know the way,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know,\u0026rdquo; the guard said. \u0026ldquo;Let me escort you in.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe first hall inside the Vatican was the same. Not a thing different. Sal had almost forgotten how beautiful it was; that beauty hit her all over again compared to the chaos in London, the alleys she\u0026rsquo;d been running down lately. In that hall, it was possible to imagine that the Vatican could survive just about anything the world, earthbound or magical, threw its way. \u003cem\u003eOr maybe\u003c/em\u003e, Sal thought, \u003cem\u003eit will just be the last thing to go\u003c/em\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAn image settled in her head, apocalypse meets Looney Tunes. There was Saint Peter\u0026rsquo;s Basilica, serene and unchanged, while the sky turned pink overhead. The land around it turned to soup and dropped away, and that tide rushed around the cathedral until there was only a mesa of land beneath the building, and space all around. Now that mesa eroded too, until\u0026mdash;hat tip to Thomas Aquinas\u0026mdash;the cathedral was balanced on a pinprick of land. Then that eroded too, and Saint Peter\u0026rsquo;s hovered impossibly in the air like Wile E. Coyote for a good three seconds before tumbling out of sight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe guard opened the door to the spiral staircase to the Archives, and down they all went. She could see Cardinal Fox waiting for them at the bottom, registered the distrust on his face. It hadn\u0026rsquo;t been easy for Mench\u0026uacute; to convince Fox that they needed to visit. Fox had insisted that the Society only needed the warning that they might be targeted, and thank you very much. \u003cem\u003eWe want to help protect you\u003c/em\u003e, Mench\u0026uacute; had said. \u003cem\u003eAnd I know we\u0026rsquo;ve moved apart in all this, but our interests are more aligned than you might think. There are ways for us to work together. We have a lot to talk about.\u003c/em\u003e Fox had been only barely convinced. Sal wondered if he regretted even that now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Mench\u0026uacute;,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re looking well.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And you,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come with me,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll talk privately.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about the rest of us?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I trust you still know where everything is,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Try not to destroy anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti tried not to judge. All her acolytes seemed to have left after she did. A new staff walked the floor, and they kept everything so organized that Asanti was pretty sure they weren\u0026rsquo;t actually looking at any of it. The books and manuscripts she\u0026rsquo;d always had open or unrolled on her desk, the second tier of documents close at hand\u0026mdash;these were all filed away. None of the flat surfaces seemed to have any work going on at them. It was an archive, after all, not a lending library. But the atmosphere reminded her just how much an archive could resemble a crypt if no one ever looked at the books. She didn\u0026rsquo;t like the thought of all those words left to die and rot on the pages. Metaphorically, those words were alive to her. Some of them might be literally alive. They needed room to breathe sometimes. Room to grow.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see you don\u0026rsquo;t use the Orb anymore,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said to the new archivist, who\u0026rsquo;d introduced himself as Udo. The device was covered with a tapestry, a few wayward books piled at its feet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;With all the magic in the world now, it kept going off all the time,\u0026rdquo; Udo said. \u0026ldquo;It was a nuisance. And besides, magic isn\u0026rsquo;t secret anymore. We don\u0026rsquo;t need the Orb. We have the news.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;The mission has changed a lot, hasn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes, it has.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what are you working on now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eUdo grimaced. \u0026ldquo;Work is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. slow,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;We have been exploring the collection as best we can, with the departure of your previous staff.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And my notes?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They were confiscated.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see. What about the notes of my predecessors?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have those, but with the gap between their notes and the present, there has been a lot to sort out. We\u0026rsquo;ve found your organizational system to be\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. a little unorthodox?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti said nothing to that.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There has been something, however,\u0026rdquo; Udo said. \u0026ldquo;Let me introduce you to Danylo. He\u0026rsquo;s one of our youngest people here, and is turning out to be very promising. He has been working on something that I have difficulty understanding, but maybe he can explain it to you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDanylo was a pale, skinny man with big eyes and even bigger glasses, poring over a book while eating a pastry. Asanti liked him immediately.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Danylo,\u0026rdquo; Udo said, \u0026ldquo;this is the former archivist, Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDanylo seemed startled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t believe they let you back in here,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said. \u0026ldquo;It is a real pleasure to meet you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t get too excited,\u0026rdquo; Udo said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can you leave us?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eUdo looked to Danylo, then to Asanti, then to Danylo again. Asanti could tell Udo thought leaving them alone was a bad idea. But whatever debate raged in him was soon settled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll be back in a few minutes,\u0026rdquo; he said, and left.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDanylo\u0026rsquo;s voice dropped to a whisper. \u0026ldquo;I have so many questions for you,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know how many answers I have,\u0026rdquo; she said with a chuckle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The controlled experiments you did here,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said, \u0026ldquo;how did you contain them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. didn\u0026rsquo;t always,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I made mistakes. It helped to have good colleagues. And a guardian angel.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Perry,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How do you know his name if all my notes are gone?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I asked around.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good man.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is there any way for me to talk to him now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti felt a pang of sadness. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know that you could,\u0026rdquo; she said. Perry was getting bad again, growing addled, a little too unpredictable. The fix she had tried wasn\u0026rsquo;t sticking. They were losing him, and they still didn\u0026rsquo;t know why. It was right that Frances had decided to stay behind in London to look after him, but in a larger sense, they both should be here now. Something in the way she spoke appeared to communicate that to Danylo, to suggest that he let it go, and she was grateful that he seemed to pick up on this. She changed the subject. \u0026ldquo;Udo said you had something you were working on.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said. He grabbed a volume off the desk, a book written in three languages.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u003cem\u003eOn the Nature of Magic\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked. \u0026ldquo;I remember that one. Fifteenth century. A generalist\u0026rsquo;s book.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said, \u0026ldquo;a rather crude attempt to construct a grand theory of magic based on evidence already centuries old, itself. Not very reliable. But something in the formulation of the ideas in it rang true for me. I know your Greek is excellent, but did you know that the choice of words\u0026mdash;\u003cem\u003enature\u0026mdash;\u003c/em\u003eis a pun? The book isn\u0026rsquo;t simply about the behavior of magic. It argues subtly that magic is, well, natural. I suspect the writer didn\u0026rsquo;t come right out and say it because he would have been branded a heretic, since magic to his colleagues is decidedly not natural. It would have been the devil\u0026rsquo;s work. The saints get miracles. The damned get magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Right,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But it seems relevant, especially in light of London. I was thinking specifically of how you awakened a\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. river?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In the context of the argument of this book, that struck me as ingenious.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How so?\u0026rdquo; Asanti asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDanylo smiled. \u0026ldquo;And here I was thinking that I would be telling you something you already knew. It has occurred to me, in listening to the way everyone here talks about magic, that we think of our magic problems as engineering problems. If there is a leak, the solution is to stop up the leak.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The boy with his finger in the dike,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes. Or the ways we dam up rivers when we don\u0026rsquo;t like them wandering about on their floodplains from season to season. There are those who argue that those solutions are still temporary. That you create more problems than you solve. And the real, permanent solution\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;\u0026mdash;is to let the river wander around, and don\u0026rsquo;t live on the floodplain,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Or if you don\u0026rsquo;t want your house to end up in the ocean, then don\u0026rsquo;t live next to the ocean. But in this case the floodplain or the coastline corresponds to reality as we know it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That was an imperfect example. It\u0026rsquo;s more this: What if the solution is not to beat the magic back, to try to keep it out altogether, but to manage its flow? To accept and use it in some way? To achieve some kind of balance? To think less like an engineer and more like a naturalist?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Huh,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s very interesting.\u0026rdquo; She felt the sense of a final piece of a concept she\u0026rsquo;d been building in her mind clicking into place. A new way forward. New experiments leapt into her head, less about creating and using devices, or summoning creatures from elsewhere, and more about learning how to make something grow and breathe, here. It was still too vague for her to articulate it well, but her brain lit up with the promise of it, the chance to see it become real, and know what it was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you don\u0026rsquo;t think I\u0026rsquo;m crazy?\u0026rdquo; Danylo said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;In fact, I\u0026rsquo;m considering recruiting you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I have another question for you, about London.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Go ahead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you like it there?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked over her shoulder and saw that Udo was heading back to fetch her. She looked back at Danylo and nodded. Then she had another thought, grabbed a piece of paper on Danylo\u0026rsquo;s desk, and wrote her cell phone number in the corner of it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We should talk more\u0026mdash;not here\u0026mdash;before I go,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe returned to find Sal, Grace, and Liam in a quiet conversation. Sal had her hand on Grace\u0026rsquo;s back. Liam stood, arms crossed, listening.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Looks serious over here,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What were you talking about?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Saving the world,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, and laughed. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t seem to be in the mood for jokes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Being here brings back some memories,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;And it\u0026rsquo;s more recent for me than you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ah,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t want to have another fight about it right now,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I know we haven\u0026rsquo;t had time lately, that there\u0026rsquo;s been no way to think about anything other than what\u0026rsquo;s in front of us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You mean about finding a cure for you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think there\u0026rsquo;s something I should show you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox had always enjoyed the view heading into Rome from its outskirts, even as it had changed over the centuries. Farms replaced groves of trees. Tenements replaced farms. Parts of the city rose while other parts remained the same. But Quelzhemox liked the view of Rome most of all when flames were involved. He still recalled, with a deep sense of aesthetic contentment, the fire that had consumed most of the city under Nero. Of the many burnings and lootings since, the Visigoth invasion and the Holy Roman Empire sacking stood out in his mind as being especially fun. He was disappointed in the Allied bombing of Rome during World War II. There hadn\u0026rsquo;t been nearly enough flames. Just as there wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be enough this time around, because his assignment was so small. \u003cem\u003eI\u0026rsquo;ll just have to wait\u003c/em\u003e, he thought.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox arrived at the warehouse owned by one of his human slaves, a man who exchanged with him his free will for great wealth, believing the deal to be metaphorical when it was not. He had asked that the warehouse be completely empty. To his dissatisfaction, he found a young man in the building, someone who must have broken in only a couple hours ago, huddled in a sleeping bag in the far corner of the expansive space. That was unacceptable. Quelzhemox began by closing the distance between himself and the young man faster than any human ever could have, as a way to show the man what he was up against. Then Quelzhemox showed the man his true face. The man started screaming, full throated, high pitched. Quelzhemox really liked that part, but decided after a few seconds that he\u0026rsquo;d had enough.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox deployed the muscular arm that grew out of his mouth. It shot from his face into the young man\u0026rsquo;s face. The claws dug into the young man\u0026rsquo;s skull and popped the front of it off. The contents fell out. Quelzhemox retracted the arm, leapt forward, and ate the mess on the floor. He hadn\u0026rsquo;t realized he was so hungry. So he ate half of the rest of the young man. He stopped when he hit the ridge of bone at the top of the pelvis. His hunger was sated, and besides, once the internal organs were gone, the rest was a little anticlimactic. He\u0026rsquo;d realized centuries ago that he disliked human leg meat. It was too tough for him\u0026mdash;a little gamey.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox licked his lips clean with his two tongues and turned back toward the door. He shook his head. Someone else should have been here by now. He would dock their pay a little, he decided, by forcing them to watch while he ate some of the human prey intended for them. He knew he wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be out of line. For the chance to sack the Vatican\u0026mdash;even if the flames wouldn\u0026rsquo;t rise into the sky, as they did in Quelzhemox\u0026rsquo;s favorite Roman memories\u0026mdash;a little humiliation would be worth it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So,\u0026rdquo; echoed Fox.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were in the cardinal\u0026rsquo;s office, Fox seated behind his desk in a large leather chair, Mench\u0026uacute; in front of it in a small wooden one. Dark oak paneling all around them. Books and a scattered array of artifacts on the shelves. Mench\u0026uacute; wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure, but it looked to him like Fox\u0026rsquo;s office was both sparser and more unkempt than it had been.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You understand that I could have you and your friends arrested any time I like,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Of course,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;I trusted you wouldn\u0026rsquo;t invite us just to entrap us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox shrugged. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not a Bond villain,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t consider you a villain at all,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yet there\u0026rsquo;s something about this that stinks to me,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;We are here now because we\u0026rsquo;re following the advice of an\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. oracle?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Oracle,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;At Delphi.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who told you to come here first. Then to go to the Library at Alexandria.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s about right.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where there will be a battle of some sort.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox took a deep breath. \u0026ldquo;And you\u0026rsquo;re just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. following these instructions?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s the best information we have,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not information. It\u0026rsquo;s a prophecy.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do I need to remind you how much the world has changed lately?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It goes against every instinct I have to be using a prophecy, culled from a magical source, to direct my actions.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I understand,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Yet here we are.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not how we do our work here,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. Mench\u0026uacute; could see how frustrated he was. Yet also resigned. He was a practical man. He was coming around.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How does the work go?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It doesn\u0026rsquo;t,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Not really. You know I have a keen sense of the Society\u0026rsquo;s history, and I don\u0026rsquo;t like hyperbole. But I\u0026rsquo;d suggest that today the organization is facing an existential crisis. What happened in London\u0026mdash;what you did, I might add, though I know we\u0026rsquo;re far beyond that now\u0026mdash;from our perspective, changed the situation dramatically enough that our mission doesn\u0026rsquo;t make a lot of sense anymore. Team One has become much more visible\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ve become action figures,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Without our permission,\u0026rdquo; Fox stressed, \u0026ldquo;though we have much more important problems to deal with. Which keeps Team Two busy enough. They\u0026rsquo;ve gone from trying to keep everything under wraps to having to explain what\u0026rsquo;s going on, on an almost daily basis.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see Sansone on the news all the time,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;s good at it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Though she doesn\u0026rsquo;t like it very much,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;She says she\u0026rsquo;s more of a back-office type.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suppose she is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And meanwhile,\u0026rdquo; Fox said, \u0026ldquo;since you left and took the Bookburners with you, we haven\u0026rsquo;t really created a new Team Three. We have new people, but it\u0026rsquo;s unclear what their mission is. To hunt down and contain magic?\u0026rdquo; Fox started laughing. \u0026ldquo;And if not that, then what?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said, \u0026ldquo;that\u0026rsquo;s why we\u0026rsquo;re here. The work is changed. It\u0026rsquo;s so much bigger now, bigger than what we could ever accomplish ourselves, bigger even than what Team One can fight. But in another, broader sense, I think the goal is the same.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which is?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;To preserve our sense of humanity,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve learned so much in the past couple years, and even more since London. Most of what I\u0026rsquo;ve learned is that\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. it\u0026rsquo;s not magic itself that is to be feared. Magic is, in one sense, simply change. Change that\u0026rsquo;s faster and more sweeping than we\u0026rsquo;re used to. Change that leaves us scrambling to adapt. But it\u0026rsquo;s not malevolent. Much of it doesn\u0026rsquo;t have any intention at all. It just is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This is the kind of thinking that reminds me why you should be arrested,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hear me out,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;What is to be feared, and what we can push against, is what some people are deciding to use magic \u003cem\u003efor\u003c/em\u003e. The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms, for example. We can talk about their use of magic and focus on that. But what we\u0026rsquo;re really up against here is basic, petty humanity. The ability of some people to decide to protect only themselves, and who cares about anyone else? I would say that to move toward that is to move away from humanity, to become inhuman in a deeper, more fundamental way than I have ever seen happen through magic.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox\u0026rsquo;s eyes narrowed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Go on,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms have responded to our changing world by deciding to throw it all away in exchange for their own safety, their own power. They\u0026rsquo;ve built a small army around them to make it possible, and they\u0026rsquo;re going after anyone they think will stand in their way. It started with the Maitresse. It has come to us, and to you. Which means, in a sense, that we already have the power they\u0026rsquo;re seeking. If we worked together, used it together\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And by \u003cem\u003epower,\u003c/em\u003e you mean \u003cem\u003emagic\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Possibly.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Ah. That is where we disagree.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But less so, since London.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re not as similar as you want us to be, Arturo,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t have to be to stop the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms. We only have to agree to stop them,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And then what? What comes after that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You mean what do we do about\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. the world?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox nodded.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Can we worry about the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms first?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox looked at his desk. For a moment Mench\u0026uacute; thought he had lost him. Then Fox smiled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s practical, the way you\u0026rsquo;re thinking,\u0026rdquo; Fox said, without looking up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And necessary.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to press your case so hard,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So we have an agreement?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Provisionally,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Though I feel like I barely understand the man I\u0026rsquo;m making this deal with.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What do you mean?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Listen to yourself,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Magic is just a means to an end? Magic is just another state of being? Think about where you started. Think about where you were even when we first met. You\u0026rsquo;ve changed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I told you\u0026mdash;I\u0026rsquo;ve learned a lot,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s much more than that,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Do you even believe anymore?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; took a moment.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Aha,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;There it is.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not that I don\u0026rsquo;t believe. In many ways my faith is stronger than ever. Not only in the sense of believing in powers greater than us, but also in the deeper mysteries within them, the things we can\u0026rsquo;t know or comprehend. I\u0026rsquo;m so much closer to accepting that. But I\u0026rsquo;m no longer sure that I\u0026rsquo;m on the right path in following my faith, wherever it\u0026rsquo;s leading me. And that\u0026rsquo;s why\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; took a deep breath.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s why I\u0026rsquo;m leaving the priesthood.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s her name?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not that at all,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;I think I\u0026rsquo;m too old for that now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nothing to confess?\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If there was, would you absolve me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I think we both know each other a little too well for that,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. He motioned to the cross around Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s neck. \u0026ldquo;I see you still haven\u0026rsquo;t taken that off, though.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It was a gift from the Maitresse. An inheritance,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you know what it\u0026rsquo;s for?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; admitted. \u0026ldquo;Not yet.\u0026rdquo; His fingers rubbed the crucified Jesus\u0026rsquo;s feet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe first beast arrived as the blood in the corner that Quelzhemox had missed began to dry.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re late,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Time is meaningless to Arthgomal,\u0026rdquo; Arthgomal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But it has been a very long time since I\u0026rsquo;ve seen you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t understand what you mean,\u0026rdquo; Arthgomal said, his anger rising.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox sighed. There was nothing for it but the greeting Arthgomal had also demanded more than four centuries ago. Together, afterward, they had feasted upon the dead during the Siege of Pyongyang. But before that, there was combat, and Arthgomal had been vicious. If they hadn\u0026rsquo;t eaten together afterward, Quelzhemox might have doubted their friendship.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox opened his mouth again and extended his arm. Arthgomal responded by peeling open the skin on his chest to reveal that the cavity itself was nothing more than a giant mouth, arrayed with five rows of jagged teeth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know your taste,\u0026rdquo; Arthgomal said. This, Quelzhemox knew, was as close to a pleasantry as Arthgomal was going to get. But if they were to work together today, Quelzhemox had to go through what was coming next. They closed on each other, sending drops of black blood flying to the warehouse floor, as a few more of the creatures Quelzhemox had summoned arrived, and gathered around them in a tight ring to cheer them on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is this?\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They tell me they haven\u0026rsquo;t touched this room since we left,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not much, but I\u0026rsquo;ll try to explain.\u0026rdquo; She took an old key from her pocket, unlocked the door, and turned on the lights.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe room was small and windowless. Books were piled on a desk in the corner, stacked on the floor. On a table were several metal and wooden devices that Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t make any sense of. It was hard to tell if they were even right side up. A few burn marks streaked the walls and spotted the ceiling. It looked, Grace thought, like the Archives before they had ever been invaded. It was all Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is this?\u0026rdquo; Grace repeated.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, \u0026ldquo;is where I tried to find a cure for you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was noticing more and more. Spots of wax on the desk. A bundle of strings on the table that she realized were untrimmed wicks.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti said, \u0026ldquo;At first it was a lot of reading, searching for similar cases. The general idea\u0026mdash;a person\u0026rsquo;s life tied to the fate of some object, something outside their body\u0026mdash;shows up again and again. There were rumors of a Macedonian woman in the seventeenth century who didn\u0026rsquo;t age, but then burst into flames in the market when lightning struck her house and it burned down. A man in Sri Lanka in the eighteenth century, they say, kept a chicken in a cage and brought it with him wherever he went. When the chicken got sick and died, he withered away not long after. There were others. None of them were ever cured.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam was crouching over a large white blob of wax on the floor. \u0026ldquo;Did you try to make another candle?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I thought that if I couldn\u0026rsquo;t break the bond between you and the candle, it might work if I could just make replacements. Even just add more wax to the candle you had. I made magic candles of my own, candles that essentially did useless things. Candles that made pink flames. Candles that hummed. Just something to test on. But trying to add wax to them never worked. Sometimes the candles exploded. Sometimes the magic just\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. vanished when I tried. None of it was promising enough to make me think I had something worth testing on your candle. After that, it was mostly about trying to find a spell to undo what had been done. Not break the bond so much as reverse it. I know that\u0026rsquo;s splitting hairs, but it was an important conceptual difference that, for a while, seemed like it might be fruitful. But I didn\u0026rsquo;t get very far. And then, well. Then other things took priority.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How long was this going on?\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;For as long as I knew about you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace was silent for a moment.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I remember what I said about finding a cure for you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I know what it sounded like then, that I only saw you as a weapon, or a useful tool. I don\u0026rsquo;t like how that conversation went. But I did try, Grace. I tried. I just failed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why didn\u0026rsquo;t you tell me?\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t want to get your hopes up. It seemed too cruel. Especially because I never really had anything to show for it. Even Perry didn\u0026rsquo;t seem to know what to do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace shot a glance at Sal, who, Grace knew, was very good at hiding her feelings. It was something they had in common, something that in a strange way brought them closer together, as two undemonstrative people who nonetheless wanted to show each other how they felt. Grace had learned, with each day of their relationship, how to pick up on Sal\u0026rsquo;s most subtle gestures. This time it wasn\u0026rsquo;t anything specific. It was more vague, a change in the air around her. But Grace caught it\u0026mdash;speaking of things that couldn\u0026rsquo;t be fixed, things that were getting worse, Sal was worried about Perry, maybe more than she was when she first joined the team. Because then, Perry was simply missing, and it had been a case of finding him. Sal was a cop. She knew how to do that. There was a process to follow, skills she had to deploy. But now Perry was going missing again, except this time he was standing there, right in front of her, while he did it. She had called Frances to ask how he was. \u003cem\u003eHe seems content\u003c/em\u003e, Frances told her, which made Sal\u0026rsquo;s stomach flip. Yesterday he made friends with an invisible centipede. He said he could hear music all the time, music like he hadn\u0026rsquo;t heard for centuries. Wherever he was going, Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t follow. She didn\u0026rsquo;t even know how to start looking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut everyone was looking at Grace now. All her friends. She looked around the room, at the untrimmed wicks, the melted wax, the burns on the walls. The books gathering dust. The evidence of failure, of precious hours wasted that could have been spent doing something else. \u003cem\u003eIn some ways we all have candles\u003c/em\u003e, Grace thought.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve been going over this a lot,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Figuring out how to use my time, how I want to live. And I realized something: The only thing that frightens me more than not having a lot of time left is having eternal life. Maybe for some people that thought is reassuring. To me it seems\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I don\u0026rsquo;t know. Boring. Greedy. The time I\u0026rsquo;ve been given? It\u0026rsquo;s enough. I\u0026rsquo;ve gotten to see the world. I\u0026rsquo;ve even gotten to see the inside of a sea monster. And I\u0026rsquo;m lucky that I\u0026rsquo;ve gotten to spend so much of my time with all of you.\u0026rdquo; She looked at Sal. \u0026ldquo;Especially you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNo one said anything. Liam looked shocked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wow,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;And here I wasn\u0026rsquo;t even sure you had feelings.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shut up,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s more like it,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I do hate waiting in lines, though,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nobody likes waiting in lines,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;You never get used to it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was beaming. \u0026ldquo;I know we\u0026rsquo;re here for a reason,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;But for me, at least part of the reason is my family. I\u0026rsquo;m supposed to see them tonight. I\u0026rsquo;d like all of you to join me. Where\u0026rsquo;s Arturo?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Probably being defrocked,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Somehow I don\u0026rsquo;t think he\u0026rsquo;d mind,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA dozen beasts now assembled around Quelzhemox and Arthgomal, cheering them on as they finished their round of welcome fighting. Small pieces of both of them lay nearby, ripped off in the frenzy of combat, a few fingers, several teeth. It was nothing either of them couldn\u0026rsquo;t grow back, Quelzhemox thought, even as he once again questioned the convention they were enacting, wondering if it wasn\u0026rsquo;t a little counterproductive to sap each other\u0026rsquo;s strength this way just in the name of tradition. But he knew he could never get Arthgomal to give up the old ways, and he loved the work Arthgomal did, loved the beasts he hired.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eStill, Quelzhemox considered it a pleasant surprise when four men showed up. He guessed that they worked for his human slave. Maybe the neighbors had called because they\u0026rsquo;d seen something that frightened them, or maybe they\u0026rsquo;d heard the noise from the fight. It was good that they hadn\u0026rsquo;t called the police. It made it all the easier to contain the incident. Arthgomal nodded at Quelzhemox; they had done all the fighting they needed to do to show their mutual respect for one another. Then, as one, the beasts wheeled around to face the four men. Quelzhemox was happy to see that the men were petrified. One wet himself. Another one of them stumbled back toward the door. A third dropped to his knees. Only the fourth one didn\u0026rsquo;t lose his head. He began talking to the beasts. Quelzhemox didn\u0026rsquo;t understand Italian, but he got the gist from the man\u0026rsquo;s tone of voice. \u003cem\u003eI\u0026rsquo;m not afraid of you. \u003c/em\u003eWhether or not it was true, Quelzhemox admired him, but not enough to restrain himself from giving the order to the assembled beasts to rip the man apart. The other men were even easier prey, and as the beasts fell to their meal, Quelzhemox\u0026rsquo;s pride at having assembled a good team grew.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eArthgomal was already halfway through eating the second man, and had started from the legs. When he disconnected pelvis from spine, he looked up at Quelzhemox and offered him the torso. Quelzhemox was touched. It had been more than four hundred years since Pyongyang, but Arthgomal remembered which parts Quelzhemox liked best. Maybe time really was meaningless to him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So we are ready?\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We are,\u0026rdquo; Arthgomal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good,\u0026rdquo; Quelzhemox said. \u0026ldquo;This was a mere prelude to the feast that is coming. Tonight we gorge ourselves on Vatican flesh.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who\u0026rsquo;s hungry?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe apartment didn\u0026rsquo;t seem big enough to Mench\u0026uacute; to hold everyone, but it did. Asanti\u0026rsquo;s family was all there\u0026mdash;well, almost all there, Asanti said. Her children, all adults, talking and bickering. Her grandchildren were possessed of the same wildness and wisdom as their grandmother. Asanti and one of her sons were in the kitchen banging pots and pans around, getting ready to serve. The chatter in the air was in three different languages.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It smells delicious,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No, it doesn\u0026rsquo;t,\u0026rdquo; said a boy next to him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s Patrice, yes?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How old are you, Patrice?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And why doesn\u0026rsquo;t it smell delicious to you?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because I don\u0026rsquo;t eat meat. It\u0026rsquo;s mean to kill animals.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who told you that?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No one told me. I just think so,\u0026rdquo; Patrice said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s mean to kill them and it\u0026rsquo;s mean to keep them on farms. They should be running free in the woods.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I see,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s mean to eat plants, too,\u0026rdquo; Patrice said, \u0026ldquo;but it\u0026rsquo;s less mean.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because plants don\u0026rsquo;t have brains.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes, they do,\u0026rdquo; Patrice said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Now, who told you \u003cem\u003ethat\u003c/em\u003e?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No one!\u0026rdquo; Patrice said, a little annoyed. \u0026ldquo;I just think so. Plants have brains, but not the same as animals. Their brains are in the ground. So when you eat an animal, you kill the whole thing. When you eat a plant, it\u0026rsquo;s like cutting off a finger. Except that plants can grow the finger back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What if you kill the whole plant?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s silly,\u0026rdquo; Patrice said. \u0026ldquo;You can\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; liked this kid. It had been a while since he\u0026rsquo;d talked to any kids, at least kids who weren\u0026rsquo;t in danger, and he\u0026rsquo;d forgotten how much he enjoyed it. He loved their free-ranging sense of imagination, the unorthodox thinking that bordered on dream logic\u0026mdash;or, Mench\u0026uacute; realized to himself, magic logic. He would bet good money that kids were better than adults at handling the changes magic had wrought in the world. He could believe they were less confused, less angry and sad, more accepting. Part of it was because they still believed in fairy tales. It was easier to accept a dragon entering the real world if you thought they\u0026rsquo;d never left, that they were always hiding, or invisible, or sleeping, which, as it turns out, was closer to the truth than adults would give them credit for. But that wasn\u0026rsquo;t all of it. It was also that they could handle a new way of thinking thrown at them, create a new system of logic, or just handle a world where a word like \u003cem\u003elogic\u003c/em\u003e seemed quaint, almost anachronistic. Adults could spend years looking backward at what they\u0026rsquo;d lost. Kids could just go along for the ride.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut talking to Patrice touched on something more fundamental for Mench\u0026uacute;, too. When he was a parish priest, he thought of the kids in his church as part of his flock, along with their parents. He was apart from them, their religious guide, their counselor, their consoler. Now the priesthood was falling away from him. He was moving to another mental space, a space he had yet to understand or define. And for the first time in his life he found himself thinking about how it would be to have a child of his own. He couldn\u0026rsquo;t picture this child. It was without name or gender. It was just an idea in the shape of a child. But it was there. If he concentrated, he thought he could almost hear this child\u0026rsquo;s voice, asking him a question he didn\u0026rsquo;t yet know how to answer. But he wanted to.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe family was sitting down. The food was on the table. And Asanti\u0026rsquo;s phone rang. She checked the number, shot Mench\u0026uacute; a concerned look, and walked into the kitchen. Mench\u0026uacute; followed her. She was almost done with the call by the time he got in there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ll be there,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Who was that?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Danylo,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;That interesting young man from the Archives. He has troubling news. Team One has been called out on a mission halfway around the world.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did the Oracle say anything about that mission?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If we believe the Oracle, then this may be part of the attack on the Vatican,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;A diversion,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;It could be.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal walked in. She\u0026rsquo;d seen the looks on Mench\u0026uacute; and Asanti\u0026rsquo;s faces. Asanti explained.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is Fox taking this seriously?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s called all his personnel to the Vatican. He thinks they\u0026rsquo;ll be safer there.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So they can be found and slaughtered in one place?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Better than found and slaughtered in their homes, or in the street, along with their friends, families, and anyone else who gets in the way,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Even after everything we\u0026rsquo;ve seen, there\u0026rsquo;s no safer place for them than the Archives.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Still,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yes,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have to go,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked at the dinner on the table, her children and grandchildren gathered around. They were waiting for her to sit down. But they didn\u0026rsquo;t really need her. The family, Mench\u0026uacute; thought, could wait.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Bookburners arrived at the Archives to find them on lockdown. They were all there\u0026mdash;Fox, Danylo, the rest of the essential staff of the Society. Sansone was giving instructions, calm and deliberate, an old pro.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It is not comforting to know that we are under personal attack. Nevertheless, our strength lies in unity. We have the best chance together.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then why did you send out Team One?\u0026rdquo; one of the monks asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They have a job to do,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;And we don\u0026rsquo;t know for certain that the Oracle\u0026rsquo;s vision and this attack halfway around the world are related.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Maybe they\u0026rsquo;ve effectively divided us already,\u0026rdquo; Danylo said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But we can\u0026rsquo;t sacrifice a small city in India to find out, can we?\u0026rdquo; Sansone said. \u0026ldquo;Team One is where they need to be. And we\u0026rsquo;ve taken all the precautions we can.\u0026rdquo; She nodded to the ten Swiss Guards stationed with them. Sal saw that they looked relaxed, like they\u0026rsquo;d done this sort of thing before. Her eyes drifted to their weapons. Not medieval weaponry. Not guns, either.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I was waiting for you to notice,\u0026rdquo; Fox said to Sal. \u0026ldquo;Perhaps the time for a Team Three has ended, but we\u0026rsquo;ve found that we have use, in essence, for two of Team One.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat was when Sal started to feel better. Then chastised herself. She knew not to get her hopes up.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox\u0026rsquo;s phone rang. The voice on the other end was terse. \u0026ldquo;Thank you,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;All clear,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How long do we have to stay here?\u0026rdquo; another monk said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Until we think you\u0026rsquo;re safe,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And when do we know that?\u0026rdquo; the monk said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox glared at him. \u0026ldquo;This is an active situation,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Right now, you can\u0026rsquo;t find the answer in a book.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe monk fell silent. Fox\u0026rsquo;s phone rang again for another report. Two of the monks tried to busy themselves with a card game, but they were too distracted. Danylo paced the floor. The Swiss Guard shifted their positions.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox\u0026rsquo;s phone rang again. \u0026ldquo;Fox,\u0026rdquo; he said. Sal was close enough to hear that the voice on the other end wasn\u0026rsquo;t calm anymore. It had the tone of rising panic, as if the speaker were watching a tsunami bear down on him. Then there was a rush of noise that subsided. Overhead, they heard a shuddering sound.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re here,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lights went out. Some emergency generator kicked in and the lights flicked back on. Then they fizzled out again. For a second, it was completely dark, quiet, and airless. Nothing for Sal to hear but the ringing in her ears.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;How did they cut the emergency power?\u0026rdquo; she heard Sansone say.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Magic?\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA light blazed on from someone\u0026rsquo;s phone, another phone, another. Then green light fired from the ends of wands the Swiss Guard had placed in their hats. Even in her keyed-up state, Sal had time for a thought: \u003cem\u003eThat looks ridiculous. \u003c/em\u003eBut it was effective. They could all see each other\u0026rsquo;s worried faces, and gathered a little closer together. Sal felt Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand slip into her free hand. She tightened her grip on her sword. The space above them was in darkness, and from there, there was a long screech. Human voices shouting. Bangs and shudders. A series of howls. There was a wrenching moan from the top of the stairs that everyone knew was the door being pulled off its hinges. Then a soft purring.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Kill the lights,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;Kill the\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShapes fell out of the gloom above them, voices rising in what sounded to Sal too much like laughter. The next few seconds fragmented Sal\u0026rsquo;s senses. Flashes of light. The face of a Swiss Guard screaming in terror. The curve of a scaly limb. A shriek that overloaded her ears. A stabbing stench, human blood mixed with tar. The floor beneath her feet was slicker than it had been a second ago. Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand slipped from Sal\u0026rsquo;s. Something grabbed her from behind, snaked around her waist. Sal raised her sword. It was getting easier and easier to use it. She knew she could strike where she wanted, without hurting herself. She brought the blade down and severed whatever it was that was holding her. But there were two more, one around a leg, the other around her torso. A third went straight for the wrist holding the sword. They tightened their grip and began to pull, in opposite directions, as if they were looking to tear her in half. She fought them, screaming, not in terror, but in anger. She was not going to go this way. She kicked her leg free, but it was caught again almost immediately. She felt something move in her hip socket in a way that felt ominous, and fought back harder. In the murky, blinking light, she could see the monster that had her, a bulb of a thing with a huge mouth and more flailing appendages. The shadow of something hung from its teeth; she realized it was a human forearm, a drooping hand. That was not happening to her, she thought, and thrashed again, harder still. She could hold it off, but she didn\u0026rsquo;t know how much longer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen a shape landed on the monster that wanted to consume her, dug its hands into the monster\u0026rsquo;s flesh, and started pulling the appendages off with slick popping sounds. One, two. The monster squealed and lurched, throwing Sal to the ground without letting go. She couldn\u0026rsquo;t see for a second, only heard the squeal arc into a shriek as the wet popping sounds continued. Then there was a tearing sound, a piercing cry. Sal turned to see that the monster\u0026rsquo;s mouth was twice as wide as it used to be, and it was flapping around, spraying dark liquid on itself, on the floor, on her. Grace was on top of it, punching straight into its flesh. Her arm was a blur, a jackhammer, and she was boring a hole into where it seemed the monster\u0026rsquo;s brain should be. Grace must have suddenly pulverized something important, because at once the creature stopped moving and slid onto the floor. The arms that gripped Sal went slack. She shuffled them off her and stood up. Grace, covered in gore, shot Sal an intense look, full of emotions, and Sal could read every one.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No fucking way that was happening,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She jumped down and took Sal\u0026rsquo;s hand. \u0026ldquo;Come on. Let\u0026rsquo;s kill some more monsters.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal nodded. There was a demon with its back to them, looking like it was about to eat one of the Swiss Guard. They lunged forward together and were taking it apart when they heard Fox\u0026rsquo;s call to flee.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox realized his tactical error as soon as the demons began to fall from the ceiling. He had been thinking of the Society as a fortress for years. It had been breached, of course, but that was only once, and for someone very specific, and the breach had ultimately failed in that the perpetrators had been punished, the Society rebuilt. Surely the word had gotten out among the demons that the Society was ready for them, one of the last places on earth they would want to be. As the lights on the Swiss Guard helmets began to go out, he realized that he had been right in a small way and wrong in a big way. The demons had indeed learned that the Society was not something to assault lightly. So they were assaulting it heavily. And once the demons were inside, the Society wasn\u0026rsquo;t a fortress. It was a cage.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe had learned a long time ago how to pull his weight in a fight while keeping his head about him to shout orders, and he could do it now. Together he and three Swiss Guards teamed up and brought a demon to the ground long enough for one of the guards to make a mash of the demon\u0026rsquo;s head with a mace he\u0026rsquo;d brought out of the Archives. That gave Fox hope. But a second later that same guard was eviscerated, the mace lost in the darkness around his feet. A claw raked across Fox\u0026rsquo;s side, cutting deep. Only an intervention by Grace, blurring like the wings of a hummingbird, saved all of them from death. The fight had only been on for thirty seconds, but Fox could see which way it was going. Even if they prevailed, the casualties would be high. Where they were now was too much to the demons\u0026rsquo; advantage. It was time to fall back, split up, and see what could be done.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe gave the order, turned, and ran toward his office. Someone was running behind him, but he couldn\u0026rsquo;t tell who. The monsters\u0026rsquo; howls receded, and for a few seconds, there was only the sound of his own breath, a ringing in his ears from the blood rushing into them, as he sprinted through the dim hallways he knew so well. So, apparently, did the person behind him. He wondered who it was. They were already at the door to his office. He flung it open, jumped inside, let his follower in, then closed it. The lights didn\u0026rsquo;t work. But the other person, amazingly, still had his phone. He turned on the light, and Fox saw who it was.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t imagine someone like you making it out of there,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What is that supposed to mean?\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox raised an eyebrow. He thought about fighting with Liam about it, but then realized Liam had a point. Besides, the man was covered in demon blood. He hadn\u0026rsquo;t gotten out of the library by hiding.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; Fox said. \u0026ldquo;I guess you\u0026rsquo;ve done this sort of thing before.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Run from monsters?\u0026rdquo; Liam said. Fox could hear the defensiveness in his voice.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No. Survived demon attacks,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam settled down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you hurt?\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo; Liam glanced at Fox\u0026rsquo;s side. \u0026ldquo;That looks bad,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It is,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;But I\u0026rsquo;ll live.\u0026rdquo; He tried hard to sell that last line, but was pretty sure Liam knew he was lying. \u0026ldquo;So what do you do next?\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This isn\u0026rsquo;t a good position we\u0026rsquo;re in,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox reached under his desk, allowed himself a moment to enjoy the look on Liam\u0026rsquo;s face as he unsheathed the long, gleaming blade he kept there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Well, that makes it a little better,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;But why didn\u0026rsquo;t you have it with you before?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt stung, but Fox knew he deserved it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I didn\u0026rsquo;t think we\u0026rsquo;d need it,\u0026rdquo; he said, and meant it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sorry,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not as sorry as I am,\u0026rdquo; Fox said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere was a howl from the hallway, rough breaths.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t kill the light,\u0026rdquo; Fox whispered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;But\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Liam whispered back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFox made a decision. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s going to find us anyway,\u0026rdquo; he whispered. He motioned Liam against the wall, gestured for him to shine the light on the door. Liam understood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFrom the breathing in the hallway, Fox could tell the monster had stopped. He heard air being drawn in through a wet cavity. The monster could smell them. He leaned forward, bracing himself with his back leg, sword pointed toward the door. He rehearsed in his head the move he would make. If he was going to end up in the belly of the beast one way or the other, it was going to be on his terms.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eQuelzhemox felt a rising, pleasurable anticipation. The humans on the other side of the door were more or less intact. They still had most of their blood in them. He liked their organs best when they were still full of blood. He had eaten three humans already here, of different shapes and sizes. Two were soldiers. He found he disliked the taste of their colorful uniforms, and the flesh beneath them was a little tough. They had exercised too much to be considered a delicacy. The third human, the one with the big glasses, had been delectable. Easy to catch. Small and soft. Sweet, really. More like dessert than dinner. He wasn\u0026rsquo;t sure he\u0026rsquo;d enjoyed a human more than he had that one. He prepared himself to lower his expectations.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door snapped in half, right down the middle, when Quelzhemox barreled into it. He went in mouth open, slavering. He couldn\u0026rsquo;t wait to eat more.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo he was surprised when the only human he saw, an older man with rage in his face, leapt toward him as soon as the door was gone. He didn\u0026rsquo;t even see the sword coming. But then the man and the blade were in his mouth, His two tongues tasted almost nothing but his own blood. It was nauseating. Then Quelzhemox experienced a pain he\u0026rsquo;d never known before, nerves that had never been touched, as the sword blade pierced the roof of his mouth, then drove upward into his demon brain. His mind reeled with it. He felt open and cold. Split down the middle. It was only the beginning, as the human then twisted and turned the sword, mixing the brains above him into a porridge. In the demon\u0026rsquo;s last thoughts, he bit down hard, and was pleased to feel the sensation of soft flesh, of a spinal cord severed. He was almost sure he\u0026rsquo;d bitten the old man in half. But the demon blood on the man\u0026rsquo;s clothes, his own blood and cranial fluid now pouring out of his head and into his mouth, bathing his tongues before sliding down his own throat, was too much to bear. He vomited, vomited everything, the humans he had just eaten, the humans he had eaten earlier.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe had always imagined he would die bloated with meat, surrounded by his demon slaves. In his ripest fantasies he died because he ate too much and exploded under the pressure, a glorious demise. But now he was dying on earth, in a dark room, and his stomach was completely empty. \u003cem\u003eWhere did I go wrong? \u003c/em\u003ehe had a chance to think. \u003cem\u003eWhere did I go wrong?\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal could hear the howls of the beasts around her, echoing through the halls of the society. She and Grace walked side by side, hand in hand. Her sword felt better than ever, a salve to the adrenaline and fear.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fox\u0026rsquo;s office is here,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s that smell?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey stepped into the room. There was Liam, sitting against the far wall in the dark, sword in hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Am I ever glad to see you,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What happened here?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t ask,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fox?\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam gestured toward the carnage near the doorway, the pile of limbs. \u0026ldquo;What about the others?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. I was hoping you did.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If I had to guess,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;d say Asanti found her way back into the vaults.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You think she could still get in there?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They probably didn\u0026rsquo;t change the locks when we left,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace nodded. \u0026ldquo;Good point.\u0026rdquo; From somewhere close by, they heard a scream in the dark, another man being eaten alive. Sal had never heard anything like it before. Wasn\u0026rsquo;t going to be able to forget it now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Begging your pardon,\u0026rdquo; Liam said, \u0026ldquo;but I don\u0026rsquo;t think anyone who\u0026rsquo;s still in the vicinity of the Archives could be alive.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Where else would Asanti be?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam thought for a minute, shook his head. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know. I guess what I\u0026rsquo;m saying is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I think we may be all that\u0026rsquo;s left. It\u0026rsquo;s just us and those monsters now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That can\u0026rsquo;t be true,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It most certainly can be,\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace didn\u0026rsquo;t say anything. Somewhere farther away, someone else started screaming.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Are you saying that we should just find our way out of here, then? Leave them for dead?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo; Liam looked offended. \u0026ldquo;\u003cem\u003eNo.\u003c/em\u003e What I\u0026rsquo;m saying is that we have to find out what happened to them. Then it\u0026rsquo;s either rescue or revenge.\u0026rdquo; He hefted Fox\u0026rsquo;s sword. \u0026ldquo;Right now either one suits me fine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal remembered all over again why she liked him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Keep the light low,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said to Mench\u0026uacute;. \u0026ldquo;I can do this myself.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; was holding one candle high over his head, watching Asanti scurry from shelf to shelf in the vault of the Archives. He counted his blessings that it was Asanti who had overseen the reconstruction of the vaults after the first attack, Asanti who had organized them. Their replacements had done so little. Everything was as she\u0026rsquo;d left it. In the chaos, when Fox gave the order to scatter, she\u0026rsquo;d grabbed his wrist and headed straight for the vault\u0026rsquo;s door, opened it just enough for them to slip in. They allowed themselves one more peek backward to see if there was anyone else they could save. They saw only monsters, attacking, rending, devouring, and closed the door behind them. They were safe in the vaults for the moment, they thought, as long as they didn\u0026rsquo;t draw too much attention to themselves. They were also trapped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know so much more now,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said quietly. \u0026ldquo;The things I could do if we were still here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Though of course it\u0026rsquo;s because of the things you were doing that we left,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t remind me,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. They heard a \u003cem\u003ethud\u003c/em\u003e from somewhere through the walls, a muffled groan. Their banter seemed disrespectful. People were dying all around them. Though maybe the talking was just the thing to allow Asanti to do her work. She had retrieved a long crystal from a drawer along with a metal device shaped somewhat like a horn. Now she was poring over three different books at once.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think the others made it?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal and Grace?\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;d count on the two of them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What about Liam?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked up at him and said nothing. Then returned to the books.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m so proud of them all,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Everything they\u0026rsquo;ve become.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not to state the obvious, but you sound like their father,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It feels that way sometimes,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. \u0026ldquo;Grandfather, even.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Oh, you\u0026rsquo;ve still got some life in you. And you know they think the world of you,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;So do I, for that matter, in case I didn\u0026rsquo;t tell you enough.\u0026rdquo; She turned a page.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What are you going to do?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;See this crystal?\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s something I was tinkering with when I left. It has a way of activating magic\u0026mdash;magical creatures, magical objects\u0026mdash;exciting them, making things a bit frantic. And this,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, pointing at the horn on the desk, \u0026ldquo;will amplify the effect.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We want to do that?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not going for loading the demons up with magic,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m going for overloading them. Them and anything magic within Rome\u0026rsquo;s city limits.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You want to fry the wires,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;In a manner of speaking. I think we\u0026rsquo;ll have to finish them off afterward. But it will do.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And what about Grace? Will it affect her, too?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Probably,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;But I think she\u0026rsquo;s strong enough to take it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You think?\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Arturo,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t have any better ideas at the moment.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; sighed. \u0026ldquo;All right,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Grace is going to kill you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Better her than them,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;And it might still be them. The demons will sense what I\u0026rsquo;m doing as soon as I start. They\u0026rsquo;ll know someone\u0026rsquo;s in here, and they\u0026rsquo;ll come for us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You designed those doors to keep them out, didn\u0026rsquo;t you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not so many of them,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; nodded. \u0026ldquo;Do it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti flipped another book open, held her hands aloft.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I told Fox I\u0026rsquo;m leaving the priesthood,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is that your way of flirting with me, if my idea fails?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Good,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;Because I\u0026rsquo;m pretty sure it\u0026rsquo;s going to work.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe began to chant. The crystal sparked with light. All around them, they heard a howl taken up by one voice after another, rising and falling together. Asanti was right. The demons knew.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e4.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What on earth is happening?\u0026rdquo; Liam said. The voices were all around them, much louder than Sal would have liked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Whatever it is, I think it means our time is running out,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do we blow our cover?\u0026rdquo; Sal said. They\u0026rsquo;d been trying to be quiet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not sure we ever had it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;All right then,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. They broke into a run back to the Archives. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t fast enough. They heard the rapid steps of feet behind them, too rapid to be human. They stopped and turned around. Liam shone his light back down the hallway.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sweet Jesus,\u0026rdquo; he said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe monster\u0026rsquo;s body looked at first like it was floating in the middle of the hallway. Then Sal saw that it had a mass of limbs reaching the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and it was scuttling after them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll take care of this,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She blurred, met the monster in midair, tackled it to the floor. Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t see Grace at all. Just the monster\u0026rsquo;s limbs being flung in every direction.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Liam said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal turned toward the Archives. Another monster, moving slower than the first.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah?\u0026rdquo; Liam said, raising Fox\u0026rsquo;s sword.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Yeah,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. They charged down the hallway and plunged their blades in the beast up to the hilt, pulled them out and plunged again. They knew Grace was almost done, wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be far behind. Sal thought of her candle. How low was it burning now?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe pounding had already begun against the vault\u0026rsquo;s door. It sounded like the monsters were throwing themselves against it. The door shuddered, the hinges rattled and groaned, but it was holding. The vault was bathed in light from the crystal. Asanti\u0026rsquo;s hands were still aloft, her voice strong now, chanting through the spell on the page. Mench\u0026uacute; looked at how much more she had to go. It seemed like a lot. But Asanti\u0026rsquo;s face was flush, radiant. In a part of the spell she seemed already to have memorized, she locked eyes with Mench\u0026uacute; and smiled. \u003cem\u003eSomehow, she\u0026rsquo;s enjoying this\u003c/em\u003e, Mench\u0026uacute; thought.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA loud bang from the door startled Mench\u0026uacute;, and he turned back toward it. There was a bulge in the door pushing inward that hadn\u0026rsquo;t been there before, a hair of a crack running down its middle. The top hinge was bending.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHe turned back toward Asanti. \u003cem\u003eHurry\u003c/em\u003e, he thought, hoping somehow to communicate that to her. Asanti\u0026rsquo;s smile only got wider.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnother bang from the door opened a small crack along the side, and now Mench\u0026uacute; could hear just how intense the howls were becoming. The cries flooded around the door\u0026rsquo;s edges, bounced off the walls, filled the room.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s voice rose. Her feet left the floor. The crystal glowed brighter.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door took another hit, and the first tendrils of a monster wrapped around its edges. They were starting to tug. Mingled in with the howls, Mench\u0026uacute; could hear human voices shouting. He knew who they were. His team, his people, his family, were right outside.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe door popped off its hinges and three monsters surged into the vault. Grace, Sal, and Liam were in pursuit, but the creatures were faster. Mench\u0026uacute; brought his arm to his face, a reflex, as Asanti finished her spell with a flourish. The crystal flashed and a wave of energy coursed through the air. The monsters that had been galloping across the floor lost their legs beneath them, slid toward Mench\u0026uacute;, and stopped right in front of him. Grace halted as the wave passed over her, wobbled on her feet. She looked at Asanti, her face filled with accusation.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What the fuck?\u0026rdquo; she said, and listed to one side. Sal caught her as she fell and brought her to the floor.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;ll wake up soon,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, with far too much confidence, Mench\u0026uacute; thought. She waved her hands at the creatures on the floor. \u0026ldquo;Make sure these things don\u0026rsquo;t.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Liam wasted no time, and within seconds the floor was slick with demon blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe grand hall of the library smelled like blood. The surviving acolytes were still finding it everywhere, spatters on the spines of books, dried smears on the floor. They\u0026rsquo;d lost so many people. Sal imagined that some of them would want out of the Society after this. That even if the world were being overtaken with magic and they were probably still in one of the safest places on the planet to deal with it, they\u0026rsquo;d take their chances somewhere else.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSansone was on the phone with Shah. Sal and Asanti were both close enough to hear that the connection was terrible, as if Shah hadn\u0026rsquo;t quite gotten away from the magic enough for the call to come in clear. They could also hear that Shah sounded exhausted, even more than they remembered. Sal thought of how much she\u0026rsquo;d seen Team One on the news. They were always saving towns and setting building-size monsters on fire now. A week ago a reporter got Shah on camera. She was in her armor. The reporter was wearing a parka covered in phlegm. Behind them, in the dark, the camera caught part of a carcass of what looked like an enormous hairy bug. \u003cem\u003eDo you think there\u0026rsquo;s any end to these attacks? \u003c/em\u003ethe reporter asked, and Sal saw anger flash across Shah\u0026rsquo;s face, an anger that she controlled. She sighed. \u003cem\u003eWhat the hell kind of question is that?\u003c/em\u003e she\u0026rsquo;d said. It was a statement that went viral. Some people read optimism into it, and Sansone encouraged them. \u003cem\u003eShah meant that of course she sees an end to the attacks\u003c/em\u003e, Sansone said at a press conference. \u003cem\u003eWe all do. Why else would we keep fighting?\u003c/em\u003e But Sal knew Shah well enough to know the truth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Shah can\u0026rsquo;t make it back here,\u0026rdquo; Sansone said as she got off the phone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The latest attack?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Continues,\u0026rdquo; Sansone said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Even though the Vatican itself\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Asanti started.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They have their priorities,\u0026rdquo; Sansone said. \u0026ldquo;And they have their orders.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;From who?\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Fox is dead.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSansone raised an eyebrow. \u0026ldquo;You think the vast bureaucracy of the Vatican doesn\u0026rsquo;t have an alternate chain of command set up for this kind of thing?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m just saying you seem awfully calm about being unprotected,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It is my job to be calm,\u0026rdquo; Sansone said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Asanti exchanged a glance, like both of them smelled something.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey planned to head to Alexandria, as the Oracle had instructed them. The flight was leaving soon, and the Bookburners, at last, had a few hours to rest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Grace lay spooning on a narrow bed in the catacombs of the Society. Centuries ago it had been for the monks in the Society who never left the Vatican. Over the years it had changed. Some monks chose not to leave. Some of the members of Team One liked to be on call. But lately the room had been empty, dark. Which was just what Sal and Grace had wanted. But Sal could feel the tension in Grace\u0026rsquo;s shoulders and back, a stiffness beyond her latent strength.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s wrong?\u0026rdquo; Sal asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I know I\u0026rsquo;m the strongest on the team. Human weapon. Rips demons in half. That sort of thing. But in the end I\u0026rsquo;m just a tool. A foot soldier.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Is this about your cure?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s about you. We all know that Mench\u0026uacute; has handed you the leadership of our team. You\u0026rsquo;ve been calling the shots since you came back from New York. Maybe before that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If you resent that, I\u0026rsquo;ll give it up now,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;ve been doing this for so much longer. You have a good head for it. And I don\u0026rsquo;t want anything like that to come between us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not that,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I know how clear I\u0026rsquo;ve made it that I won\u0026rsquo;t be just a tool. But I also know that I like being a foot soldier. I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be in charge. It\u0026rsquo;s my job to kill monsters and I excel at it. I like someone else pointing me at which monsters. It keeps the lines of logic clear. It keeps things simple. It means I rest easier at the end of the day.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not resting easy right now,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Because I have to know that the decisions being made about where to send me are solid.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal bristled. \u0026ldquo;Are you saying you don\u0026rsquo;t trust me?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNow Grace turned over to face her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s not that,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then what is it?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not explaining this well,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I suggest you start.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Mench\u0026uacute; just has so much faith in you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And you don\u0026rsquo;t?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not what I mean.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It sounds like that\u0026rsquo;s exactly what you mean,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Being a leader involves\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Please don\u0026rsquo;t say \u0026lsquo;making hard decisions,\u0026rsquo; Grace, because I know that already. Everybody knows that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The problems we\u0026rsquo;re facing are not getting smaller. The decisions are going to get harder and harder.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Did you ever doubt Arturo could make them?\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace paused. Sal braced for the answer.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Grace said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So what\u0026rsquo;s different?\u0026rdquo; Sal felt a spike of anger and let it get the better of her. \u0026ldquo;What exactly do you have between you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There is nothing,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Nothing now.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then what is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Listen!\u0026rdquo; Grace said. She slapped her hand on Sal\u0026rsquo;s arm, dug in her fingers, and it hurt. \u0026ldquo;This whole conversation has gone wrong.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re damn right it has.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then let\u0026rsquo;s stop talking about it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No way,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;One of us could die tomorrow. I need to know you\u0026rsquo;re with me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m with you as you as long as you\u0026rsquo;ll have me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Then what the hell is wrong right now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Grace said, and stopped. She closed her eyes, opened them again. Released her grip on Sal\u0026rsquo;s arm. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know how to say it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were leaving for Alexandria in an hour. Grace turned back over and wrapped herself in Sal\u0026rsquo;s arms. But there was no comfort in it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nDuring their disastrous visit with the Oracle of Delphi, the oracle told the team that they would have to return to Rome. Considering the rift with Cardinal Fox, no one was exactly excited about this prospect. Not to mention that Asanti was essentially banished. Grace confronted Asanti about how Asanti has never used her magical research and knowledge to try to fix Grace’s condition. Father Menchú struggled with his purpose after leaving the Vatican. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFox\u003c/strong\u003e: Head of the Societas Librorum Occultorum; largely antagonistic to Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Brian Francis Slattery\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\n\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.252","slug":"bookburners-s4e09","audio":"","epub":"","mobi":"","pdf":"","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 9"},{"id":"5ad4b4694a189e00019c6d30","issue_id":"5ac3e573a4c5eb0001f98e38","number":10,"title":"Alexandria Leaving","released_date":null,"released":false,"strapline":"","byline":"Max Gladstone","featured":false,"coming_soon":false,"background_image_url":"","icon_image_url":"","divider_image_url":"","divider_color":"","display_date":"2018-08-15","body":"\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e1.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal and Grace fought through the flight, through landing, and through passport control in Alexandria, but Sal only knew to call it fighting by the texture of the silence. Her fights with previous friends of the boy- and girl- variety had been large, screaming, noticeable affairs, the kind where you wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have had to work to find witnesses after the fact. Once and only once she\u0026rsquo;d lost control and dented a wall with her knuckles, and for the next two years she\u0026rsquo;d lived in that apartment she passed the dent, invisible to anyone else and glaringly obvious to her, and felt ashamed each time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace fighting looked the way Grace always looked\u0026mdash;reading a book, say, with the total grinding attention that let her flip pages every thirty seconds on the second, or watching the world pass from a caf\u0026eacute; seat, or stretching in the morning light that filtered through the smoky windows of their room. Grace did not glare or shy away. She displayed no stillness at a touch, nor was she less likely to return a kiss. But Grace moved at the bottom of an invisible ocean of silence, and while she did not act in any way Sal could identify as off or wrong, when Sal opened her mouth to speak, or to lean in for a kiss, the weight of that invisible ocean crushed down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It was a subtle difference\u0026mdash;not what Sal would have expected from what she had seen of Grace in battle: sweeping, swift, violent. But that, Sal realized, was her mistake. Battle or not, Grace was always fighting. At this moment, she was fighting Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The rest of the team hurt, too. There was no time to heal after Rome, not with the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms headed to Alexandria to make their move. So Mench\u0026uacute; worked his rosary as if the passage of his fingers over beads might sand his soul smooth, or rub away the blood there, invisible to anyone but him. So Asanti sat stock-still the whole flight from Rome, keeping her own counsel as always, only this time a counsel of war. So Liam, bone tired, slept, with his hands balled into fists.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The Archives had been invaded before, ransacked by demons, but this was worse. Cardinal Fox was dead. They all had different feelings for Fox\u0026mdash;frustration, scorn, hatred, grudging respect\u0026mdash;but death had a way of turning those feelings around and knotting them to their opposites. You might think a fellow officer was scum, but then he died, and you met his son who\u0026rsquo;d come back despite their long estrangement for the funeral, and that didn\u0026rsquo;t make you like that officer or the way he acted on the beat or the kinds of arrests he made, but still you had watched his son cry. And you had to decide how that changed things. If it changed things.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And Sal\u0026rsquo;s brother was dying back in London. Not now, not soon, but the world was eating him. The flood of magic tugged at the stitches that held his soul together. And she wasn\u0026rsquo;t by his side. And she couldn\u0026rsquo;t help him. She was here, failing to stop the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms from making everything worse.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePerry\u0026rsquo;s sickness was the world\u0026rsquo;s fault, and Fox\u0026rsquo;s death was the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms\u0026rsquo;. But what was wrong with Grace was Sal\u0026rsquo;s fault, in part, and at least she could try to fix it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSo when Sal and Grace watched the luggage while the others used the restrooms before customs, she steeled herself by looking everywhere but at Grace\u0026mdash;robed men and women in line, the drop ceiling, the grubby standard-issue airport tile\u0026mdash;then asked, \u0026ldquo;What is it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace blinked, and in that instant Sal understood the reason for her silence: She was trying to be kind. \u0026ldquo;You like me too much.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhatever she\u0026rsquo;d feared, it wasn\u0026rsquo;t that. \u0026ldquo;What?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace put down her book. \u0026ldquo;This will be worse than Rome. There\u0026rsquo;s no Team One, no backup plan. We\u0026rsquo;re all we\u0026rsquo;ve got.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I know. That\u0026rsquo;s why I\u0026rsquo;m trying to fix whatever this is between us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace sighed. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know. You\u0026rsquo;re making the calls now. And that\u0026rsquo;s good\u0026mdash;you decide quickly, and you have good judgment. You managed to get Liam\u0026rsquo;s head out of his ass. But if we\u0026rsquo;re going to get through this, you need to use all your resources. Including me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not holding you back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t think you are. I didn\u0026rsquo;t notice it before Rome. There are orders you can\u0026rsquo;t give me, ideas you can\u0026rsquo;t suggest. Arturo never had that problem. I think the vows kept him on track.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re wrong.\u0026rdquo; But she had her passport in her hand, and she was flipping through the blank pages, reading the vaguely patriotic quotes on each washed-out landscape page. She closed the passport, but still she could not look at Grace directly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace took her wrist, her grip taut, not tight. Sal felt her own pulse beneath Grace\u0026rsquo;s fingers. \u0026ldquo;Sal. I want you to look at me and tell me that, if you had to, you\u0026rsquo;d send me to my death.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe laughed, once. She\u0026rsquo;d always had a bad habit of laughing at grim jokes\u0026mdash;and of hearing grim jokes when other people were being serious. All Grace\u0026rsquo;s focus ground against Sal. \u0026ldquo;Grace, Rome was a bad day in a bad week in a bad month in a bad year. We\u0026rsquo;ll win this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sal. I love you. But please, for once in your life stop being so damn American and say it.\u0026rdquo; Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes were large and dark and deadly earnest.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I love you, too.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s not what I meant.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were just words. And Grace was right\u0026mdash;there were thousands, millions of lives at stake. The entire world. Of course she would send Grace to her death if she had to. She\u0026rsquo;d sacrifice herself if needed. You just didn\u0026rsquo;t say that out loud. It was bad luck\u0026mdash;or maybe, like Grace said, it was that basic American oddity foreigners tended to confuse for optimism but was more a kind of anti-fatalism, not a belief that everything will work out but a confidence that it probably won\u0026rsquo;t, and you might as well grit your teeth and put your shoulder to the wheel anyway because why not die trying? She would send Grace to her death, she would, and Grace needed to hear Sal say it, to know that she, Grace, hadn\u0026rsquo;t compromised the team by letting this thing between her and Sal reach the point where it would sow doubts like this.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA commander did what she had to do to keep the unit\u0026rsquo;s trust. So why did her throat dry up when she wanted to speak?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam, fresh from the restroom, slipped between them, reached for his shoulder bag, and dug out the phone he\u0026rsquo;d left charging on a battery pack there. \u0026ldquo;Sorry, excuse me. Even when the world\u0026rsquo;s ending, you\u0026rsquo;ve got to catch them all.\u0026rdquo; When neither of them answered: \u0026ldquo;See, this is why I try to sleep on planes. Flying\u0026rsquo;s just a foul experience all around, and you feel foul after it. Best spare yourself the indignity.\u0026rdquo; He rose onto his tiptoes and stretched toward the ceiling. His shoulders popped. \u0026ldquo;Augh. So, hey, did anyone come up with a plan while I was in the loo?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tried to say, \u003cem\u003eWe\u0026rsquo;ll talk about this later\u003c/em\u003e with her eyes and body language, but she\u0026rsquo;d always been better at reading body language than speaking it\u003cem\u003e.\u003c/em\u003e All she got off Grace was a wave of disappointment, though that might have been Grace\u0026rsquo;s normal facial expression. \u0026ldquo;Same as before. We stop the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms before they get whatever it is they want.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;They cracked the Archives. Why should they have more trouble with the Library of Alexandria?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Nobody has sacked the Vatican in about fourteen hundred years,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, shouldering past Liam and reaching for her rolling bag. \u0026ldquo;The Library\u0026rsquo;s survived on more contested territory for twice as long. They\u0026rsquo;ve moved and hidden and moved and hidden, and each time they\u0026rsquo;ve made themselves more secure. Which is why we\u0026rsquo;ll stop them here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMench\u0026uacute; emerged, still rubbing his hands. \u0026ldquo;Besides, the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are a European family. They had time to study the Vatican. In Alexandria, their resources will be more limited.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey were good points, Sal thought. Good reasons to think she might not have to make Grace\u0026rsquo;s choice. She didn\u0026rsquo;t like the relief she felt at that notion. It meant Grace was right to doubt her in the first place.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe Library of Alexandria was well defended. They were both off their home soil, but the Bookburners were always off their home soil, which put the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms at a disadvantage. Hell, if they were lucky, they might have even stolen a march and beat the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms to Alexandria. Grace was just being a pessimist. They could handle this together. Nothing was quite as bad as it looked from the outside.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe told herself that as they gathered their luggage and passed, uneventfully enough, through customs. She told herself that as Mench\u0026uacute; spotted Youssef, the (or at least \u003cem\u003ea\u003c/em\u003e) Librarian of Alexandria, in the crowd, and waved. She told herself and kept telling herself right up until Youssef reached them in the crowd and said, \u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You needn\u0026rsquo;t act so surprised.\u0026rdquo; Ingrid sat composed in a broad blue armchair, legs crossed to show off her Louboutins and the black leggings Sal would have bet were basically the same ones she owned, only with an extra couple zeros on the price tag. She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to speculate about the cost of that white cowl-neck sweater, let alone the diamonds. Ingrid had been smoking when they came in, though she crushed her cigarette out. \u0026ldquo;Private jets clear customs faster. They come on board, check your passport, and wave you through. Practically civilized, or at least as civilized as air travel ever is. Please have a scone\u0026mdash;they\u0026rsquo;re divine\u0026mdash;and a seat.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen neither Sal nor Grace nor Liam moved, Gala, lounging on a sofa in a satin day dress, legs tucked under her, hair up, tea in hand, threw her head back and groaned. \u0026ldquo;We said we wouldn\u0026rsquo;t hurt you if you came to talk. It was all in the letter. I don\u0026rsquo;t see why you must be so formal.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We got your letter.\u0026rdquo; Sal set the ransom note on the black table that stood in the center of the white-carpeted room, irrationally far from any chairs. The penthouse suite had been done up in bloodless mid-century modern\u0026mdash;or else the twins redecorated when they moved in. \u0026ldquo;Nice view.\u0026rdquo; One wall of windows opened out and down on Alexandria, but the other opened on the mottled pink and shifting skies of deep magic. Floating mountains of translucent flesh rippled, merged, and drifted apart out there. \u0026ldquo;Give us Youssef\u0026rsquo;s daughter back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;This,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid stabbed the air with one perfect fingernail, \u0026ldquo;is why people hate civil servants. There\u0026rsquo;s nothing civil in the service! It\u0026rsquo;s all obligations and duties and must-I\u0026rsquo;s. You\u0026rsquo;re acting as if we kidnapped the girl for some nefarious purpose.\u0026rdquo; She drew out \u003cem\u003enefarious\u003c/em\u003e. \u0026ldquo;We knew there was no way you\u0026rsquo;d meet with us otherwise, and even so, you\u0026rsquo;ve only brought half the team. We\u0026rsquo;d so looked forward to a frank conversation with Father Mench\u0026uacute;. Or your archivist. I\u0026rsquo;m sure we could have sorted out our mutual misunderstandings.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re not getting all our team in one place,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;You know that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala rolled her eyes again, and slumped back into the sofa.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam picked up a frosted scone off the tea tray and sniffed it\u0026mdash;then made a \u003cem\u003enot bad\u003c/em\u003e face and set it down. \u0026ldquo;You murdered the Maitresse, and a whole boatload of other people.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not with our own hands, darling.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you think that matters? You invaded the Vatican and killed Cardinal Fox. You have a shit approach to starting frank conversations.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Hostage first,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;If you want to talk, we talk after.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid drew into herself and took a slow breath, tensing for an argument, but before she could speak, Gala unfolded one of her long, lazy arms and snapped her fingers. A blue circle appeared around her hand and around a doorknob leading to one of the suite bedrooms. The door popped open and a girl, five or six, stepped out, knuckling her eyes as if she\u0026rsquo;d been asleep. \u0026ldquo;Here, child. Your father\u0026rsquo;s sent his work friends to pick you up. Isn\u0026rsquo;t that nice.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe girl staggered across the carpet, still half asleep. She shook her head and looked around herself as if seeing the place for the first time. When she saw the pink sky and the things that moved out there she got very still, and her eyes widened in wonder or fear or both.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Come on, Kasrin.\u0026rdquo; Liam held out his left hand, like Youssef had told him to. \u0026ldquo;Your father said you would want to know he\u0026rsquo;s cooking tonight.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe girl\u0026rsquo;s eyes narrowed on Liam, and on his hand, and her memory locked in. She went to him, and held his hand as they retreated to the door and the elevator beyond. Liam gave Sal a mock salute as he passed, which Sal returned with a nod. And then they were gone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Will \u003cem\u003eneither\u003c/em\u003e of you try the scones? I suppose the help will eat them if we don\u0026rsquo;t, but it\u0026rsquo;s such a waste.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal did not answer that.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We gave you the girl, policewoman. Can we have a civil conversation now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You and your sister are murderers, but you\u0026rsquo;re not dumb. You know about the change that\u0026rsquo;s coming. But you\u0026rsquo;ve killed and ruined lives and made magical bargains and spent more than most people could dream of to break every hope the world has of survival. And you want to chat?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid\u0026rsquo;s generous lips tightened. Gala stood, walked between Sal and Ingrid to the tea service, and refilled her cup from the samovar. \u0026ldquo;I told you this was pointless. I told you they\u0026rsquo;d never understand.\u0026rdquo; Gala took a sip of tea, and glared at them over the rims of her glasses. \u0026ldquo;We agree with you, policewoman.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You and I don\u0026rsquo;t agree on anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not on the par\u003cem\u003etic\u003c/em\u003eulars.\u0026rdquo; Gala waved her hand between them. \u0026ldquo;All that coming together, everyone-will-save-the-world stuff, that does not work. We\u0026rsquo;re all out for ourselves\u0026mdash;our families, our friends, our powers. Even your Maitresse was. But you and we agree that things are changing, and that what used to work won\u0026rsquo;t anymore. Our family\u0026rsquo;s just as blind as anyone. Mummy and Daddy and Aunt Tha\u0026iuml;s and Farfar, they think the family will ride all this out just like we\u0026rsquo;ve ridden out the last thousand years or so. What they don\u0026rsquo;t comprehend is that we have to strive as much as anyone now to make sure we\u0026rsquo;ll be safe then. That, we can do. The save-the-whole-world thing, we\u0026rsquo;re pretty sure we can\u0026rsquo;t and no one can. So we convinced our family to let us take the logical steps. They still think we\u0026rsquo;re mental, especially after all the trouble in Greece, but we\u0026rsquo;re doing the best we can.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Taking apart the airplane to build your parachute,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;Very logical.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala\u0026rsquo;s smooth forehead furrowed. \u0026ldquo;That doesn\u0026rsquo;t make sense! The parts the airplane needs to work as an airplane wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be of any use building a parachute. God, it\u0026rsquo;s like talking to Povel.\u0026rdquo; She padded back to the couch and draped herself down upon it. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re not cannibalizing the airplane to build a parachute. We\u0026rsquo;re cannibalizing it to build another, smaller, better airplane.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And the people who don\u0026rsquo;t fit on your airplane\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;People! Do you actually, really care about people? As a general group? The people in website comments sections? The ones who don\u0026rsquo;t shower and build pyramids in the Louvre?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Gala,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid said, gently.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Fine! Fine. You talk to them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid reached into her breast pocket, and withdrew an envelope that would have looked white against any background save her skin. \u0026ldquo;You have so many objections to our methods, of course, and they\u0026rsquo;re very reasonable, I\u0026rsquo;m sure. If it matters at all, every casualty sustained so far, including the temporary capture of our dear brother,\u0026rdquo; with a tone of voice on \u003cem\u003edear\u003c/em\u003e Sal recognized, the one that usually meant \u003cem\u003eidiot\u003c/em\u003e, \u0026ldquo;are the regrettable consequence of people not doing what they should.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which is?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Why,\u0026rdquo; Gala said, \u0026ldquo;what we tell them to, of course.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid crossed the carpet to Sal, envelope extended. \u0026ldquo;We just want to borrow a few items from the Library. Give them to us, and we won\u0026rsquo;t kill you and your friends and Youssef and Kasrin and all the other little people down there. You saw what happened in Rome. You know we can do it, and we will do it, and you can\u0026rsquo;t stop us. But we\u0026rsquo;d rather not. Do you understand me, policewoman?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal wanted to punch her. She took the envelope instead. \u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Do you agree?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAll Sal\u0026rsquo;s body thought \u003cem\u003eno\u003c/em\u003e at once.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat she said was, \u0026ldquo;Give us time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e2.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s all junk.\u0026rdquo; Liam dumped the last box out onto the meeting table at the heart of the Library of Alexandria. Books splayed face down, paper crimped. A scroll began to unroll. A wooden bowl rattled on the flat surface, and a rubber ball bounced. Asanti caught the ball and held it to the light. The glitter inside the transparent rubber sparkled, pretty and cheap and totally mundane.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Looks can be deceiving,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;As we all know.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;re just trying to waste our time, if you ask me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re trying to waste theirs,\u0026rdquo; Grace pointed out. \u0026ldquo;It would be fair.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;But maybe they would expect us to think that way. We can\u0026rsquo;t afford the risk that one of these items could be\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; Asanti picked a very nineteen eighties toy robot car off the table and turned it over in her hands, flipping the robot\u0026rsquo;s head out of the car\u0026rsquo;s engine compartment and back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;More than meets the eye?\u0026rdquo; Sal couldn\u0026rsquo;t resist\u0026mdash;for Perry\u0026rsquo;s sake, though thinking about her brother at all hurt. He was half a continent away and Frances was taking care of him, in her quiet, careful fashion, but that was supposed to be Sal\u0026rsquo;s job\u0026mdash;not shuffling through underground archives trying to stop homicidal wizards from breaking the world even worse than it was already broken. What kind of monster was she, to be here instead of by his side? Not as much of a monster as the world that made her choose. At least she could represent the dumb nerd jokes in his absence\u0026mdash;even if Liam boggled.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti blinked. \u0026ldquo;I was going to say \u0026lsquo;exceptional.\u0026rsquo; We saw that with\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; But she trailed off rather than saying the Maitresse\u0026rsquo;s name. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve seen it before,\u0026rdquo; Asanti finished, grim, and set the robot car down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal closed the scroll. The Library felt airy and light around them, especially considering that it was in fact a high-security facility buried deep under Alexandria. The architects had done their best to mimic airy Mediterranean courtyards underground, using glowing alabaster panels, broad halls, high ceilings, and trailing vinework. The effect reminded Sal of one of those too-cheery New York office buildings, the kind with in-house coffee shops and a Michelin star cafeteria and a music room and a masseur, all the amenities and comforts any employee could ever dream of. Why would you ever want to leave?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Mench\u0026uacute; led Youssef into the office and Kasrin trailed them both, holding paper and crayon. When they\u0026rsquo;d led the girl back to the Library, Youssef had held himself together, hugged her, said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m so glad to see you.\u0026rdquo; Even Sal, who had only met the man once, could hear his voice cracking with relief. Mench\u0026uacute; had taken him aside, slow and patient as always, and talked to him, and Youssef looked almost whole now. Sal wondered how Mench\u0026uacute; worked that particular magic. She watched the priest\u0026rsquo;s face and hands, as always, for some sign he\u0026rsquo;d absorbed the panic into himself, that he\u0026rsquo;d taken on the doubts and fears of the man he\u0026rsquo;d gone to help, but if they were there, Sal was not enough of a detective to spot them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No success?\u0026rdquo; Youssef asked now, but more by way of confirmation. He could see the rummage sale on the table for himself. Kasrin picked up the robot car, turned it over, set it aside, and began to color her paper green. \u0026ldquo;There must be something.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace picked up a copy of \u003cem\u003eOur Bodies, Our Selves\u003c/em\u003e from the pile and turned it over in her hand. \u0026ldquo;The more we focus on this, the longer they have to sneak into the Library.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If that is their aim, they will be disappointed. The Library will protect us.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Mench\u0026uacute; looked uncertain. \u0026ldquo;The Engstr\u0026ouml;ms have immense resources, and magic. I\u0026rsquo;ve seen the cost of underestimating them, old friend. I won\u0026rsquo;t let you make the same mistake.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Youssef took Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s hand from his arm, held it, and let it go slowly. \u0026ldquo;Thank you. But only I understand the labyrinth of this library\u0026mdash;its traps, its magical protections, the secret paths in and out. If there is a safe place on the planet anymore, it is here. That is why I have brought Kasrin. My predecessors built and rebuilt this place to survive Romans, Mongols, Turks, French, English, Germans, and the atomic bomb. I am more worried for my wife Catherine\u0026rsquo;s safety at her conference in America than I am for my daughter\u0026rsquo;s safety in the Library.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Liam looked skeptical. \u0026ldquo;Then you\u0026rsquo;re the point of failure. If they get to you, they can use what you know to break this whole place open.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Which is why I will not leave the Library until the danger has passed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;So you plan to wait out the siege? For how long?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;We have fresh water from a cave spring below, and supplies to last months. If the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms are as well informed as you claim, they know this. They could wait us out if they had all of time to do it, but they do not. They are exposed and likely desperate. Your Team One, not to mention their other enemies, will come for them once they have dealt with their distraction. If this is a feint, it has been miscalculated.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace set the book down, spread both her arms, and swept a pile of bric-a-brac toward her. \u0026ldquo;So this junk is our only clue we have to what the Swedes want. We might as well get searching.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid hated waiting. She paced and turned on the bathroom tile and wanted another cigarette above all else. Four a day, that was her rule\u0026mdash;at mealtimes, before bed, and after sex, if warranted\u0026mdash;and she would not allow the interminable mess Povel had made of everything involving the Bookburners and the Maitresse and the Library to break her routine. That was how people unraveled. Routines slipped innocently at first, and then more, and the next thing you knew the whole precision instrument lay in pieces.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe flickering blue candle flames and the whiff of smoke and Gala\u0026rsquo;s thick incense did not help. \u0026ldquo;It would have been so much less complicated,\u0026rdquo; Ingrid said, \u0026ldquo;if we\u0026rsquo;d just told them we\u0026rsquo;d kill the girl if they didn\u0026rsquo;t give us what we want. They\u0026rsquo;re so softhearted\u0026mdash;can you imagine the priest saying, \u0026lsquo;No, kill her, we\u0026rsquo;ll never let you into the Library\u0026rsquo;?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala, seated and wearing her bathrobe in the center of the candle circle, leaned back and sighed. \u0026ldquo;You\u0026rsquo;re as bad as Povel.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid picked a velvet cushion off a stool and threw it at Gala. It bounced off the air above the candles.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You were watching Brooks when she accepted the deal,\u0026rdquo; Gala said. \u0026ldquo;Did you think she meant to keep her word?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eInstead of answering, Ingrid sat on the lip of the large round tub, and tested the temperature of the blood inside with her hand. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s almost ready.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what I thought. So, say we told her what we really want. She claims they need to talk it through with the Librarian, they leave, and then they\u0026rsquo;re in one of the most defensible points in Christendom while we\u0026rsquo;re staying in a quite nice and\u0026mdash;above all\u0026mdash;exposed hotel room. And they have Asanti, however much of an amateur she may be in the mystic arts, and a young woman who can move a good deal faster than you or I can incant.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid moved her hand in a circle, making whirlpools in the blood. \u0026ldquo;She is beautiful, isn\u0026rsquo;t she? If Povel hadn\u0026rsquo;t bungled her acquisition back at the last Market, this would have been so much easier.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;If we\u0026rsquo;d known then half of what we know now,\u0026rdquo; Gala said, sounding bored with this whole conversation, \u0026ldquo;we would have made different choices, which would have had different results, and you\u0026rsquo;d be wasting just as much time fretting over what we could have done better.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t \u003cem\u003efret\u003c/em\u003e.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I love you, darling, but please. You\u0026rsquo;d win gold medals at the downhill fret. You\u0026rsquo;ve checked the temperature of that bath ten times in the last ten minutes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Brat. You must be the younger one, whatever Mummy says.\u0026rdquo; Ingrid drew her hand from the bath and watched the blood settle to stillness. No matter how much she\u0026rsquo;d seen and used, Ingrid always expected the stuff to behave like colored water, and always felt surprised when it did not. There were fewer ripples, and the surface took light differently. She flicked her fingers and the blood rolled off them, tugged back to the pool by magic and affinity. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s ready.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala stood and stepped from the candle ring. The blue light clung to her robe, then to her skin as she shrugged the robe off and let it cascade to the ground. She set her glasses beside the sink, fished her contact lenses from their case, cocked back her head and dropped the lenses in one by one. The blood waited. Lenses in place, and naked, she stared down into the tub and shook herself as if preparing to dive into a glacial lake, though the blood was warm. \u0026ldquo;This is the better way, Ingrid. They do what they please. And we take what we want.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid hugged her around the shoulders, and gave her a peck on the cheek. \u0026ldquo;What would I do without you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Starve, most likely.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Wait,\u0026rdquo; she said before Gala could move. She ran to the cage on the vanity, reached through the bars, and tested the sleeping girl\u0026rsquo;s pulse. \u0026ldquo;Good. She\u0026rsquo;s ready.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala rolled her eyes, and stepped down into the blood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace lay on the bed, and Sal sat down beside her. She let her weight settle. Never go to bed angry, that was the advice her father gave her back before it made any sense to give, and he must have got it from the same book as everyone else. But she was tired, and she hurt, and she wouldn\u0026rsquo;t get to choose when the Swedes sprang whatever plan they\u0026rsquo;d laid. She felt so tired, and she wished she and Grace weren\u0026rsquo;t doing this. It had been a mistake to try to have the conversation in the airport when they were exhausted and hurting and more scared than either of them would admit, and it was a mistake to have it now when they were even more tired, after hours poring over the Swedes\u0026rsquo; catalog of nonsense and comparing it to archaic ledgers Youssef dredged up from the Library\u0026rsquo;s deep stacks, listing items of power prone to changing shape, books that hid like parasites in other books, and artifacts that disguised themselves as bottles, keys, toys, doorknobs. They should sleep. She should sleep. You never knew when you might have to fight.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;This wasn\u0026rsquo;t the right time, but there never would be a right time, even if she spent years waiting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I would,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace\u0026rsquo;s eyes opened.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I would send you to your death. If I had to. But God, I hope I never have to. There are half a hundred reasons this thing you and I are doing would be wrong if we were in a normal unit. I shouldn\u0026rsquo;t ever have to choose between our job and your safety. And, Grace, I wish you hadn\u0026rsquo;t made a thing of this. My brother\u0026rsquo;s dying and I\u0026rsquo;m all the way over here in Egypt, and I know we might all die\u0026mdash;me, you, any of us\u0026mdash;and I\u0026rsquo;m trying, and I\u0026rsquo;m pissed at you for pushing me on this right now. But I would make the right decision.\u0026rdquo; She needed Grace to believe that, because she needed to believe it herself, because otherwise what the hell were they doing? What she had done with Liam years ago when they were all so much younger, that hadn\u0026rsquo;t been like this. That was physical. If one of them died, or both, hell, sure, why not. They pretended they didn\u0026rsquo;t care, and they pretended so well the pretense more or less came true.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis was deeper, and that was a problem. Grace was staring up at her, dark, weighing, waiting.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry.\u0026rdquo; She touched Sal on the hip, gentle as if afraid Sal would slap her hand or throw her off. When Sal did not, her hand settled on her thigh. \u0026ldquo;Thank you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal stared into the dark. \u0026ldquo;Would you let me die if you had to, to do the job?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;You just answered that question. You\u0026rsquo;d give me an order. And I\u0026rsquo;d go when you ordered me.\u0026rdquo; Sal turned to face her, and Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand shifted, not just resting now but gripping her leg, as if she were being dragged toward an unwanted future. But Grace kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling. \u0026ldquo;You break so easily.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Hey. I can take care of myself.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I know you can. This isn\u0026rsquo;t\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo; And Grace fell silent and looked away. That didn\u0026rsquo;t happen often. Grace always knew what to say, as if she\u0026rsquo;d planned the conversation in advance. \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t know how it felt in Poland, when I realized you were back down in the mine, when I realized you might be gone.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;You didn\u0026rsquo;t say anything.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;You were the one who\u0026rsquo;d almost died,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;What was I supposed to say? I had to be there for you. I had to help. But it kept me up nights, after. I can be faster than a bullet if I have to be. I can get better from anything. That\u0026rsquo;s my curse. And when I\u0026rsquo;m not around, you\u0026rsquo;re so stupid and so brave.\u0026rdquo; Her eyes were wide and brimming and her breath was shallow.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal took her hand, and took the naked fear in her voice, and remembered how Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s face looked when he came back from telling Youssef everything would be all right. She had never learned to take broken people in and make them whole. Maybe you never learned that trick, but you got better at faking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u0026nbsp;So fake it, Sal.\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She moved Grace\u0026rsquo;s hand to her waist, to her hip, and dug her own fingers into her shoulder, and kissed her deep and long. \u0026ldquo;You think I\u0026rsquo;m brave.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace blushed and glanced away. \u0026ldquo;Stupidly brave.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll take it.\u0026rdquo; And she reached down for her, and down, and let the fear go and cluster close around their bed with all the other shadows.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFather Mench\u0026uacute; fetched himself and Asanti mugs of tea from the Library\u0026rsquo;s kitchen and bore both to the study through the gloom. The bright alabaster panels had reddened and faded with sunset, but there was light enough to walk, and table lamps in the study let them work. Asanti thanked him for the tea without looking up from her magnifying glass and her Sumerian slab; he settled back down with the old paperbacks, and picked up where he\u0026rsquo;d left off in the last one. They\u0026rsquo;d tried opening all the books the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms wanted, but no magic poured forth. Perhaps, though, one book held a secret message, or a map folded and slid between pages, or something. Something, it turned out, was hard to find.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut it kept him busy and kept his eyes open. The pictures on the book covers\u0026mdash;detectives in antique trench coats, Vikings with black swords and improbably large helmets, swooning brides of various descriptions\u0026mdash;were vivid and garish and could not displace the other images he saw when he closed his eyes, of the monsters, and Fox\u0026rsquo;s body. The Vatican shaking. He should have done something.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;There\u0026rsquo;s nothing you could have done,\u0026rdquo; he said out loud.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti looked up over the rim of her glasses. \u0026ldquo;I know. And nothing you could have done, either. Especially not in Rome. And even if there was something we could have done, we didn\u0026rsquo;t. I don\u0026rsquo;t see the point in regret.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSteam rose off his tea and twisted in the air. \u0026ldquo;The job didn\u0026rsquo;t start like this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;And we were younger.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;The\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo; he stopped himself from saying \u003cem\u003ekids\u003c/em\u003e, \u0026ldquo;the others, they seem more ready for this. They think the same of us, of course. But you remember how it used to be. We\u0026rsquo;d go out. We\u0026rsquo;d learn something, and fight something else, and bring what was left back to study. But there is no back anymore. Just forward. I\u0026rsquo;m not that old, but I feel too old to keep moving forward.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You never stopped moving forward, Arturo. Nobody ever does.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Certainly not you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe smiled softly to herself in memory. \u0026ldquo;You chanted with me in London. After all the stern talking-to you gave me about Father Hunter\u0026rsquo;s spellbook, about children playing with power tools, there you were, helping. I couldn\u0026rsquo;t have done it without you, and without you London would have fallen apart. That was a change I didn\u0026rsquo;t think you could make. And it made me very happy.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;To be right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo; She flipped the tablet over, and squinted at chicken-scratch cuneiform glyphs. \u0026ldquo;Science isn\u0026rsquo;t about being right. We question and change. The world questions and changes us. You\u0026rsquo;ve been changing with the rest\u0026mdash;I worried that you might not see how much. I\u0026rsquo;m not so worried anymore.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He laughed, and was surprised to hear the gravel in his voice. \u0026ldquo;I wish I knew what I was changing into.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti stopped sifting through her clay tablets. \u0026ldquo;We don\u0026rsquo;t know, any of us. But we don\u0026rsquo;t have to know. These people want to make everything worse to make their own lives easier. They hurt our friends and loved ones, and they want to hurt more. And we will stop them.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He remembered how furious she\u0026rsquo;d been after the Maitresse died, how hungry for blood and how ready to kill. This was different. She was certain now, steady. Implacable. She bent herself to her tablets and her work, and the silence passed again to him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Before he could find his way out of it, a scream split it open. High and warbling, it ended wetly and too soon. Mench\u0026uacute; knew the screams of his comrades and colleagues well.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;That scream belonged to Youssef.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He was up and running first, Asanti close behind. The lights flickered as he ran from the meeting room and down and around the stairs to the dorms. Gears ground behind the walls, and hydraulic pumps surged to life, and somewhere, heavy gates slammed shut. He landed hard on his feet on the tile floor, and a muscle or worse twinged in his foot, but in the rush he ignored it. He reached a closed door, judged it, and threw his whole body against the point he knew would make it give. Something else crinkled and tore, in his shoulder this time, but wood splintered and he stumbled in.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Youssef lay bent back over his desk, and a small creature wearing Kasrin\u0026rsquo;s dress crouched on top of him, its face a roiling mask of blood, its hands wrapped around his throat. Rivulets of blood ran up his jaw and cheeks, curled into his ears, slipped into his eyes, but he was still fighting. His fingers pierced the bloody face that was not Kasrin\u0026rsquo;s at all.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Mench\u0026uacute; was a cautious man, but only by Society standards. He launched himself at the homunculus in the shape of Youssef\u0026rsquo;s daughter, grabbed it by the dress, and threw it away from him. The monster hit the wall and stuck, crouched there as if upon a floor, its arms spread twice as long as its body, its fingers longer still and sharp. It opened a mouth the size of its face, lined with curved, bloody icicle teeth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt still had Kasrin\u0026rsquo;s hair.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWith a high screech, the creature launched itself at him\u0026mdash;faster than his eyes could follow, almost as fast as Grace. His hands were already up, so its arms struck his, and as he fell back he clutched the monster\u0026rsquo;s wrists. It pressed against his grip, and he felt himself start to fail. Its wrists hinged and melted. Long fingers bit into his arm, while others reached closer, closer, toward his eye. That face-mouth gnashed inches from his nose.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti shouted a word, and the room\u0026rsquo;s light changed. A pinkish-purple tint turned green. The creature\u0026rsquo;s champing and clawing slowed, its impossible strength faded. Ice crystals formed on its skin. It had no eyes, but it seemed to look with its teeth for the source of this inconvenience.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThen Grace kicked it in the face.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOr, she tried. It dodged\u0026mdash;he could only tell what had happened by her surprised expression, standing half-dressed and hair wild over him. But Asanti kept chanting, ice thickened the homunculus\u0026rsquo;s limbs, and when Grace hit it next, it shattered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCrystals of frozen blood rained down, and he rolled over to spit them out before they could melt in his mouth. He shook with a chill he had not felt before.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Arturo! Arturo, are you all right?\u0026rdquo; Grace hugged him, pulled back, reviewed him. \u0026ldquo;You should have waited for me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Someday,\u0026rdquo; he said, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll learn.\u0026rdquo; And he accepted her hand up. He ignored his own injuries for now and prepared himself for Youssef\u0026mdash;for what he\u0026rsquo;d need to be to help him, to assure him they\u0026rsquo;d get his daughter back. They\u0026rsquo;d seen things like this before, such a perfect likeness was impossible to hold without a living form to draw upon. It would be all right. He\u0026rsquo;d been training to say that his whole life, and he\u0026rsquo;d used that training so many times, even scared, shocked, bleeding, torn.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut when he turned, he saw Youssef was in no shape to listen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e3.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey carried Youssef to the meeting room and laid him on the table, which they swept free of junk. Sal cradled his head when she set him down, and felt guilty again for having arrived so late. She had been asleep when Youssef screamed; she\u0026rsquo;d heard him first in her dreams. One of the many advantages of Grace\u0026rsquo;s curse was that she could put her pants on fast in an emergency. \u0026ldquo;He\u0026rsquo;s alive,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said, though she frowned when she took his pulse. \u0026ldquo;Barely. No injuries, aside from the magic. We should get him to a doctor.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Liam appeared at the door. \u0026ldquo;No luck there. We\u0026rsquo;re locked in tight. The elevator\u0026rsquo;s down, and there are foot-thick metal plugs sealing the stairwell. Unless I miss my guess we\u0026rsquo;re not even getting outside air down here. Our man wasn\u0026rsquo;t kidding about the security.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal frowned. \u0026ldquo;Why would Youssef lock us in?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t think it was his idea.\u0026rdquo; Asanti tapped the black-red scab lines coiling into Youssef\u0026rsquo;s ears and open eyes. \u0026ldquo;Arturo, you said you saw this stuff come out of the homunculus?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;From its hands.\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; hadn\u0026rsquo;t taken his eyes off the librarian since they laid him down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;There seems to be no structural damage to the eye itself.\u0026rdquo; Asanti pulled down Youssef\u0026rsquo;s lower eyelid, and Sal winced. She drew a tiny flashlight from her purse and peered into his ear. A trail of blood glittered on the earlobe. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s hard to tell without a scope, but I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t be surprised if these, let us call them blood wires, coiled up the auditory and optic nerves into his brain. Mind magic is difficult without direct access to the brain. Whatever they were doing seems to have stopped or slowed, perhaps once Grace broke their homunculus. The blood is wound through his mind. They made him close the Library and lock us in. Probably they cannot force him to act without their homunculus, but can they still see into his mind? Have they found the information they wanted? What were they looking for? I don\u0026rsquo;t know. But either way, we\u0026rsquo;re trapped here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;And you can\u0026rsquo;t wake him up.\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; sounded so grim.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;No,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know this magic, and it\u0026rsquo;s deep inside him now. Even if I did break it, it might scramble his brain on its way out. If you like\u0026mdash;\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Mench\u0026uacute; shook his head. \u0026ldquo;Leave him.\u0026rdquo; But he looked up across the body to Sal, and Sal herself turned toward Liam. Who was staring at Youssef. Liam, who carried in his backpack his own gift from the Maitresse, her last sick joke.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Liam had once been possessed. He had spent years breaking free of his demon, and years after that putting pieces of himself back together. And the Maitresse had given him the power to peer into the minds of others: possessing them, in a way. He could use his plant to go into Youssef\u0026rsquo;s mind\u0026mdash;and expose himself to the same power that held Youssef in its grip.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal watched him understand: His mouth and brow crumpled. And Sal realized that she had turned to wait for him to volunteer, to save her from giving the order. And Grace, she realized, was watching her to see if she had lied.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003cem\u003eWould you send me to my death?\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/em\u003eShe opened her mouth, but before she could speak Liam said, \u0026ldquo;I have an idea.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam drew the stupid bloody plant from his backpack and tossed it on the table. He carried the thing with him when he traveled, because the one fact he really knew about plants was that they liked to be left alone with sunlight and fresh water, and he didn\u0026rsquo;t want to give this one a false impression that they were friends. He\u0026rsquo;d stopped short of adding bleach to the watering can, but only just.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Why did it have to look like a carnivorous plant? The mouth didn\u0026rsquo;t do anything, just the leaves. At least, it hadn\u0026rsquo;t done anything yet. But the Maitresse liked her jokes, didn\u0026rsquo;t she? The purple leaves or fronds or whatever drifted toward him when he drew close, as if his skin had some magnetic pull.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;But Sal was right, even though he wished she wasn\u0026rsquo;t, even though she hadn\u0026rsquo;t actually been the one to give the order. She even started to say, \u0026ldquo;You don\u0026rsquo;t have to,\u0026rdquo; as if he really didn\u0026rsquo;t. As if they had another choice.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I do, though,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Hey, you\u0026rsquo;ve been after me to grow up, right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And he reached his hand into the plant.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;As the leaves crawled and braided up his arm, as green thoughts dribbled into his own like sap, as leaves reached for Youssef, he had just enough control to keep himself from screaming.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He hoped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Then he tumbled into green.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Youssef\u0026rsquo;s mind shaped itself around him as a jungle full of great, moving, moss-covered stone buildings, temples turning to seek an absent sun. The air lay hushed and heavy, and Liam knew if he spoke he would be seen, and the tigers of this mind, that lurked in camouflage on branches overhead, would plunge down and devour him. He held a rope of grass leading off between trees from the wood, back to his own body, and if that were cut, he would wander in here lost until the tigers came.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti\u0026rsquo;s mind would look like this: so dense, so overgrown, so full. He could search in here for centuries without finding what he sought.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFortunately, he didn\u0026rsquo;t have to. Other seekers had come here first, and left a trail.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;A river of blood ran through the air.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Great.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It branched and wriggled and split to strands; it plunged into the stone towers and bored holes in colossal trees. Back in the physical world, the trails of blood the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms\u0026rsquo; homunculus had slipped into Youssef\u0026rsquo;s ears and eyes and nose were hair-thin, but here the blood ran thick as a torrent. Ingrid\u0026rsquo;s mind, or Gala\u0026rsquo;s, was inside that river, searching and churning. If he traced that river back to them, he might be able to slip inside their mind, find out what they wanted\u0026mdash;and if he was lucky, stop them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;If he wasn\u0026rsquo;t lucky, his rope would snap, they\u0026rsquo;d find him and take him apart with their magic, or cast him from Youssef\u0026rsquo;s mind. Or creep into his mind too, and use him like a puppet.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Liam tried not to think about that part. It didn\u0026rsquo;t work.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He caught the grass rope in his teeth, chose a tree with thick branches and sturdy vines, and began to climb.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Halfway to the top, the vine he was holding tore.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;His stomach lurched into his throat. He clawed at the tree\u0026rsquo;s slick bark, but it crumbled beneath his fingernails and he fell. On the way down, he wondered how you\u0026rsquo;d die in real life if you broke your neck falling here.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;His ribs found a tree branch first. The impact robbed him of breath. His teeth crunched into the grass rope and green sap filled his mouth. He gagged, but did not let go of the branch or the rope.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;When he looked up, he saw the blood river twisting through the air not five feet away. He could make that jump. Almost certainly.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;His ribs ached as he forced himself to stand. He judged the gap again, and told himself he felt good about his chances. He gripped the grass rope, gathered himself, and leaped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;His foot slipped as he left the branch, and an ancestor-monkey crouched in the back of his mind informed him that he was about to die. The arc was wrong. Not enough momentum, not enough length. He strained, he reached, the river passed overhead and the ground opened its arms for him\u0026mdash;but at the last instant his fingers skimmed the blood, and his arm lurched against its socket, and he was swept away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The jungle coursed past. As the blood carried him, the images it had torn from Youssef\u0026rsquo;s mind spun through Liam\u0026rsquo;s. Liam recognized schematics, cave charts, diagrams: the Library\u0026rsquo;s secrets and its security. He swam upstream, straining against the current. He tasted a metallic frustration, not his own, and glimpsed a room, porcelain and granite, thick towels, an open door, a bathroom with a round tub full of blood, and Gala lying in that blood with her head back, her hair trailing in it, her eyes rolled up so only the whites were visible, while a jeweled lotus floated on the surface of the blood, crackling with power; in a corner of the room, in a silver cage, Youssef\u0026rsquo;s daughter Kasrin lay curled around herself, her brow painted with burning black ink. And Ingrid, pacing, snapped a question in Swedish, and Gala frowned and the current grew and tossed him away and swept him back.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;They were searching, yes, but for more than security, more than plans. He let the river of Gala\u0026rsquo;s power drag him away through the whirling jungle until they came to a stone tower greater than the rest and corkscrewed in and down and in and down, past guards and wards and hypnotic suggestions Youssef had planted in himself against just this sort of intrusion. But Liam had not anticipated Gala\u0026rsquo;s power, implacable and vicious, perfect, penetrating, or the lotus that let her think faster than his unconscious mind could respond. So the stones split, and the traps closed on air, and in a rush they burst on this secret Youssef had kept, had perhaps not even known he kept, passed down from Librarian to Librarian since the first books kindled the first fires.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Liam was far down, and traveling so fast. His rope frayed but he held on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And when the final gate opened, he saw.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal followed Liam down the winding stair, and the rest of the team trailed after.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The stone here was rough and her fingers hooked in chisel marks. She did not know how far down they had come, and she was positive three of the turns they\u0026rsquo;d taken to reach this place had led them down halls that had been walled off before. Liam touched books on shelves in sequence, adjusted the positions of scrolls, led them along one of seven different golden paths woven into a long black rug, and as he did, the Library walls shifted. The whole time, he hadn\u0026rsquo;t stopped talking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We were asking the wrong question.\u0026rdquo; He skipped stairs. She didn\u0026rsquo;t need to be told to skip the same ones. \u0026ldquo;We didn\u0026rsquo;t have the data to ask the right one, not really, even though now that we \u003cem\u003ehave\u003c/em\u003e the answer it\u0026rsquo;s easy to construct a path from the data we had that would have led us here. It\u0026rsquo;s an inference problem. We didn\u0026rsquo;t know how to filter possibilities for relevance.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She\u0026rsquo;d asked him to slow down three times already, so she gave up. \u0026ldquo;What questions should we have been asking?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The stairwell ended\u0026mdash;just ended, not in a hall or a chamber but in a solid stone wall. Liam blew dust off the blank rock and groped along its surface, his fingers exploring chisel divots and natural fissures in the living stone. \u0026ldquo;The Library of Alexandria last burned down fourteen hundred years ago, or fifteen, or whatever. So the librarians ran away, and brought their books with them. And then they rebuilt. Right?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal crossed her arms. \u0026ldquo;Right. So?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;So where did a bunch of fugitive librarians in the fifth century find the resources to build a vast underground complex?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;They started small, and expanded over time.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Does it look like that to you? Do you think they just, what, added rooms here and there when they needed them? Is that how you end up with a ten-story hidden staircase this big, going straight down?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Okay. What\u0026rsquo;s your answer?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;They didn\u0026rsquo;t build the Library,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;They found it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He pushed, and a twenty-foot-tall section of wall slid back without a sound, and swung aside, and light flooded forth.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Beyond the door lay an empty room, a cube of softly glowing alabaster with a door at the far end. The door was likewise alabaster, but outlined in silver. Behind the translucent walls, great machines made of shadow turned. The center of the door flushed a familiar shade of pink.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;When Sal entered the room her footsteps made no sound. Shadows clustered on the floor near her feet. \u0026ldquo;What is this? Liam?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti answered for him, her expression as close to awe as Sal had ever seen. \u0026ldquo;This is\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. I\u0026rsquo;ve never seen anything like it before.\u0026rdquo; She walked toward the door, reluctant and eager at once. \u0026ldquo;But I suspected.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Okay,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;Someone please start making sense.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Our world was the angels\u0026rsquo; project. Yes? That\u0026rsquo;s what Hannah said, and your brother. A place where will and form are set apart. An island of certainty in an ocean of magic. It stands to reason there would be struts to prop it up. Pillars of the world.\u0026rdquo; The shadows gathered under her, too. \u0026ldquo;This is one.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what the Engstr\u0026ouml;ms want.\u0026rdquo; Sal felt the weights in her own mind slide into place, inevitable and slow as the machines behind the walls. \u0026ldquo;They have the lotus; if they control this too, they\u0026rsquo;ll be able to control how things break, and where. Who survives and who does not. They\u0026rsquo;ll protect themselves while it all comes apart. And now they know all the Library\u0026rsquo;s secrets\u0026mdash;the traps and how to get around them, the lines of defense. They have the manpower advantage, between the blood homunculi and those monsters from Rome. And we\u0026rsquo;re stuck down here. With whatever\u0026rsquo;s behind this door.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s bad,\u0026rdquo; Liam agreed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Could we use it against them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti blinked. \u0026ldquo;That would be like\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;. using an atomic bomb to break up a fistfight on a raft. It might work. But it would almost certainly kill us. And the boat.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;The raft in this analogy being\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026nbsp;.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;The world,\u0026rdquo; Mench\u0026uacute; said. He sounded tired. \u0026ldquo;The Swedes won\u0026rsquo;t wait. They\u0026rsquo;ll send one sister in with demons at her side, with the other sister feeding her power from a safe distance.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s the plan,\u0026rdquo; Liam said. \u0026ldquo;At dawn, I think. They had some magic reason\u0026mdash;the lotus is stronger when the sun\u0026rsquo;s up, something like that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;So we beat them.\u0026rdquo; Grace said it as if nothing in the world was simpler. \u0026ldquo;When she comes, we hit her until she stops. And then we go after her sister.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal shook her head. \u0026ldquo;It won\u0026rsquo;t work. They\u0026rsquo;re using the lotus\u0026mdash;they\u0026rsquo;re shifting time. You missed that homunculus.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Only once.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;What if there are five of them?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I could handle five.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Is there a number you couldn\u0026rsquo;t handle? Do you think they might have an idea what that number is, after all the time they spent with the man who built your curse? Do you think they\u0026rsquo;d come here if they couldn\u0026rsquo;t beat you?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace glared at her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Sal,\u0026rdquo; Grace said, warning, but Sal didn\u0026rsquo;t listen.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;They\u0026rsquo;ll be ready for you\u0026mdash;here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;No.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Liam, is there a path to the surface? Some way Grace could slip out undetected?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He frowned. \u0026ldquo;I think so.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Sal, I\u0026rsquo;m staying.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what they're counting on. They won\u0026rsquo;t expect you to leave us, go to the hotel, and stop Gala on that end. You go. Give the rest of us a chance. We\u0026rsquo;ll hold the line.\u0026rdquo; She didn\u0026rsquo;t say, \u003cem\u003eas long as we can\u003c/em\u003e. That part was understood. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s an order, Grace. Live. And save our butts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam led them to the exit\u0026mdash;a narrow pipe with a ladder rising through stone. \u0026ldquo;It leads to a grocery store storage room, and usually if you tried to climb it the walls would crush you. But I think I fixed that.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace looked at him. \u0026ldquo;Thank you.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;And that\u0026rsquo;s the look you give me when you want some space.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Yes.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Well, then.\u0026rdquo; He shot them a not-quite-mock salute. \u0026ldquo;Toodles.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;There was little room inside the pipe once the door was closed, and no light save the chemical lamp hung around Grace\u0026rsquo;s neck. Sal felt half intimate, half smothered. This was a massive gullet and they were being swallowed down. She took Grace in her arms and Grace took her and they tried to be together here, surrounded by stone and dust and with sunlight far away.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ll never have a plan again.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Don\u0026rsquo;t you dare,\u0026rdquo; Grace said. \u0026ldquo;I like it when you have plans.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Come back to me.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I will.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal was the first to break the circle of their arms, because someone had to, and she didn\u0026rsquo;t want to force that someone to be Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd Grace began to climb.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e4.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal took her gun and sword and joined Liam at the bottom of the stairs. \u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re good?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;He nodded. \u0026ldquo;I turned on the defenses, and Father Mench\u0026uacute;\u0026rsquo;s on the controls. Still can\u0026rsquo;t believe he was willing.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve all done a lot of things we never thought we could,\u0026rdquo; Sal said. \u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s a crisis for you. Makes you grow. How are you doing?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;After letting a monster inside my head so I could sneak into another monster\u0026rsquo;s head?\u0026rdquo; He adjusted his silvered brass knuckles. \u0026ldquo;Better than I expected. You?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She tested the weight of the sword. \u0026ldquo;She\u0026rsquo;ll be fine.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace walked to the Ritz.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She\u0026rsquo;d considered cabs, considered burning the candle and sprinting across town through a frozen predawn city, but both options had their costs. She did not know how their enemies were watching the Library; Engstr\u0026ouml;m money could buy a lot of eyes even without magic. She\u0026rsquo;d be more flexible on foot than in a cab. And the lotus gave its wielder power over time, which suggested that it offered some sense of time\u0026rsquo;s passage. When she burned, they would know. Besides, it wasn\u0026rsquo;t that far to the hotel, and though she\u0026rsquo;d lived for just under a hundred years, she\u0026rsquo;d never strolled through Alexandria.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Around her, the city unfolded. Trolleys rolled down streets gilded with the dust of night. A thick ground fog pooled and eddied around her legs. Maybe this was normal here, or maybe an accident of weather, or maybe it was magic.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe crossed roads when locals crossed them.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;In the old days she could get the feel of a city by walking through its mornings and watching faces. Cars had put an end to that, trapped human beings under metal and glass, but at this time of day, so early some people would call it late, there were still people on the sidewalk, sweeping out their shops, opening steel shades. She traded nods, smiles\u0026mdash;considered buying what looked like fried dough from a sidewalk vendor, then realized she hadn\u0026rsquo;t changed money when they crossed the border.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Oh well. You can eat after you don\u0026rsquo;t die.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal was back there waiting, a coal in Grace\u0026rsquo;s mind. There was so much she wanted to say, do, try. This habit of living day to day really did complicate one\u0026rsquo;s life. She remembered the loneliness of candle sleep, of waking out of beat with her friends\u0026rsquo; lives\u0026mdash;had a week passed, a month? The memory hurt. She didn\u0026rsquo;t want to go back. But that loneliness had its simplicity. Living that way, you did not press against people long enough to bend them, to crease them, let alone to break; whenever you felt a strange pattern with a colleague or a friend, you didn\u0026rsquo;t have to fix it, just disappear and let the pattern fade.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She was done fading. But that meant she might mess this up. And that scared her more than monsters.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She\u0026rsquo;d reached the hotel during her rumination, and stepped inside. The early morning street noise stopped. Big hotels like this, with their tiles and stonework and gilt and their hushed polite conversations and their Estuary-accented staff, always reminded her of Shanghai, of those great Bund palaces locals only entered as servants or prostitutes or, far more rarely, as police. Those places had not liked her then, and the feeling had been mutual\u0026mdash;still was today, though she took particular pleasure in arriving as a paying client.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She walked through the lobby with such purpose they did not challenge her, and pressed the elevator call button, and shouldered into the full elevator when its doors opened. \u0026ldquo;Thirtieth floor,\u0026rdquo; she said, and someone pressed it. The penthouse level needed a key; she could break in from underneath.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It occurred to her to wonder, then, where all the suited people in this elevator came from. Underground garage? Perhaps. And why weren\u0026rsquo;t they breathing?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She waited. The numbers ticked up. Grace stilled herself. She heard her shirt move when she breathed.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The woman to her left, her face began to melt. The man to her right, his eyes grew saucer-large, and a third eye opened on his head. She felt the fingers of the hand pressed beside her own grow larger, longer, and sharp. And still nobody moved.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;So Grace burned, and did.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt first Sal heard the crash of breaking stone. The scream of tortured metal came next, high and sharp and suddenly cut short\u0026mdash;then a rush like a flood. Silence followed, ominous and deep and stretching and so absolute she tapped the hilt of her sword against the wall to be sure it made a sound.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It did, but that sound took longer than it should have to travel to her ears, and reached its destination muffled and confused. But as she turned back to Liam to ask him what was happening, the silence broke with a sound like a plate-glass window coming down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That was the dry ward,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;And the curtain wall. We have the fires next, and the carpet maze, and then the golems. I don\u0026rsquo;t know if they\u0026rsquo;ll slow her down.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal tightened her grip on the sword and waited.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;A song drifted down the winding stair, echoing and high, but it stopped with a rush of tearing cloth. A bell rang; an avalanche rolled down a high mountain pass, and the stairwell and the bedrock shook.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We can do this,\u0026rdquo; she said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;A door opened far above.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Footsteps echoed down the stair, Louboutins descending regular as a countdown clock. And behind and beneath and ahead of them came the flood.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The first monster rounded the corner at a dead sprint, taking the stairs five at a time: a big thing like a dog with six legs and an upside-down head. Liam hit it in the face and it fell and he followed it to the floor. A translucent bulb of flesh scuttled down after on four tall spindly legs, the mouth gaping with glass-sharp teeth, and Sal put herself between Liam and the thing and swung her sword, and felt a stab of triumph as it cut through and the creature toppled. They could do this. They were doing it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe rammed her sword into the flesh sack just to be sure, but as she turned away something child-sized and heavy struck her in the side. Her head rang off the stones, and her sword thunked against the ground, or maybe the other way around, but whatever the order she was down and a sticky mass of blood flowed on top of her, prying at her mouth, squeezing her neck. Her fingers found the sword hilt and, half-blind, she pressed its blade to the hands around her neck; the sword guided itself through skin and tendons and the hands let go. Coughing, she found her feet and cut a giant snake off Liam, who recovered just in time to tackle something like an inside-out baboon that had lassoed Sal with a rope made from its own intestine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe lost track after that. They poured down, soundless, some massive and others tiny, skittering, furious, and she and Liam fought and screamed and breathed and hurt.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt first the triumph blossomed: how amazing that they\u0026rsquo;d made it this far, that they worked this well together. Exhaustion came after, and pain. They didn\u0026rsquo;t give up. But that could only carry them so far. Lactic acid built in used muscles. Bruises and strain turned joints in ways they weren\u0026rsquo;t supposed to go. There were limits to how fast she could breathe, how fast oxygen could enter her blood, how long her heart could beat and how long she could swing a sword.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAfter the exhaustion came a growing satisfaction that scared her more than the fear. They had done so much. It had to be enough. If she slipped up, or he did, and one of them died or both\u0026mdash;who would claim they\u0026rsquo;d not done all they could?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThat was the easy way out. That was the danger.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe flood stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal didn\u0026rsquo;t realize it at first. She turned in place, one circle, two, sword tip low with her exhaustion. But no more monsters came. She laughed and heard herself as if through water. Liam stood breathing hard in blood up to his shins. His ripped clothes barely registered in the mess of him. A flap of skin hung down his forehead toward his swelled-shut eye. He kept trying to close his right hand, and could not. Sal\u0026rsquo;s body tingled with adrenaline. She could not put weight on her left leg. She could not feel her own body, not really, and could only tell how bad she\u0026rsquo;d had it by the way Liam looked at her, which was about how she figured she was looking at him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd still the footsteps. Closer now.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe saw the blood before she saw the shoes. Little red-black tendrils of it trickled down, explored, drank. Larger swathes followed, hard and glossy curves wet like the inside of an insect\u0026rsquo;s shell. And then she saw the shoes, and Ingrid in her white suit softly smiling and immaculate. The blood trailed her like wings and a train.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal tightened her grip on the sword hilt. Liam tried to close his hand again and failed. And Ingrid looked so fresh.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You,\u0026rdquo; she said, \u0026ldquo;are in my way.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal raised her blade, and charged.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace limped into the penthouse. She trailed bloody footprints back to the wrenched-open elevator doors. She was breathing hard, and she\u0026rsquo;d been cut in places, but the other guys had it worse. Hell, the other guys weren\u0026rsquo;t even guys.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe\u0026rsquo;d spent nine months in that elevator. Nine months of mornings and laundry, nine months of deciding what\u0026rsquo;s for breakfast, nine months of Sal\u0026rsquo;s nights and her days. Back when Grace had been a weapon, she would not have cared. How could a gun begrudge the use of ammunition? Her time was hers alone. When she ran out, she ran out. Victory had a price. The world had a price. When you had to, you paid it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut she was trying so hard to be a woman now. A woman lived life, she did not spend it. And a woman could lose.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOut the high windows to her right, mountainous demons twisted in a flat pink sky; out the high windows to her left lay the city and the sea.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe had spent nine months already; there might be time later for the view.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe walked through the door into the back. The mounded suitcases and unmade bed were of no concern. Youssef\u0026rsquo;s daughter sat, her hair cut short, in a silver cage beside the bathroom door. Her eyes went wide when she saw Grace; Grace snapped the cage lock and helped her out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKasrin started to speak, but Grace shook her head. \u0026ldquo;Run.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You can come in whenever you like.\u0026rdquo; Gala\u0026rsquo;s voice filtered in from the bathroom, high and dreamy. \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s all fine here.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eKasrin ran.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and walked into the bathroom.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLiam had described a hot tub full of blood, but most of that had drained\u0026mdash;off with Ingrid, no doubt, to hurt her friends. What remained curled in braided ropes around Gala\u0026rsquo;s body and twisted through the room into pits it had dug into the wall. A nest of tendrils held the shimmering lotus over Gala\u0026rsquo;s navel. Gala\u0026rsquo;s eyes were blue with lotus light, and her teeth bared in a delirious, hungry grin.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace burned toward her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd stuck.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid was so close. After all those tiresome rituals, not to mention the absurd convulsions of scheming and scheduling required to make it this far, she could soon set this distraction aside and get back to the important things in life, none of which, in her experience, required nearly so much dry cleaning.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe battered the Bookburners back through the door someone had no doubt thought themselves very clever for hiding. They fought well, but they were tired, hurt, and oh so slow, and Ingrid had all the time in the world.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAt least in theory. But \u003cem\u003eshe\u003c/em\u003e had to experience it the long way round, and she felt so completely and utterly done with this nonsense. She refused to spend another instant covering her tracks or being careful. So she marched into the alabaster room, and found the priest there manning a table full of magics and instruments and dials, the tools he\u0026rsquo;d used to keep her out and delay this mind-numbing process.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe ignored him and marched past, toward the door behind which waited\u0026mdash;everything, or at least some of it. Once they\u0026rsquo;d gained control of a single pillar, they could seize the others at their leisure. Gala had tried once in great detail to explain to her why one was enough for their purposes, but Ingrid only pretended to follow the math.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHer blood claws plunged into the stone door and pulled. The priest ran toward her; she hit him with a wave of blood and he fell.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;You should have run,\u0026rdquo; she told the priest. \u0026ldquo;You should have taken the chance I offered. This isn\u0026rsquo;t about you. You don\u0026rsquo;t matter to us. We wouldn\u0026rsquo;t have chased you. It was a nice plan, to delay me, but\u0026mdash;honestly, you see how it looks, don\u0026rsquo;t you? Standing in front of more magic than you\u0026rsquo;ve ever seen, the power to build a world or end one\u0026mdash;and using these toys against me. Pathetic, isn\u0026rsquo;t it?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe held the priest in blood, and squeezed. \u0026ldquo;Give her time,\u0026rdquo; he breathed out.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Her? Your friend back at the hotel? She\u0026rsquo;s stuck. Grace can burn time, but the lotus controls it. We\u0026rsquo;ve known about you, you see. We knew about your friends in the Vatican, all their strengths and weaknesses, and we know yours. It wasn\u0026rsquo;t that hard.\u0026rdquo; The alabaster door cracked, and pink mist flowed out from the fissure. The great engines behind the walls shuddered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIngrid marched forward into triumph.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBut someone was already there.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Not Grace,\u0026rdquo; the priest said. \u0026ldquo;Asanti.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti stood in the pillar of the world, and tried to understand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The room was a hollow ball, half rock and half sky, and the sections unfolded into one another like lenses opening and closing, or eyes. The skies were all different, and so were the stones, and when a given section of wall passed back around to stone or sky, it had changed. The room was neither in the world nor out of it\u0026mdash;was not even a room in any way that mattered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;At its heart hovered a turning sphere.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;There were spheres within spheres, in fact, half solid and half made of light, as if solidity itself was a dimension through which the system moved.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It was working. She just did not know how.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;When the door ripped off its hinges and Ingrid stepped through, she realized she was out of time. She thrust her hand into the mashing gears as if into a pool of water, and waited for the crunch.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And felt it. Bones split. Skin tore. The revolving machine rebounded, shifted around her hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then the power came.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Ingrid boiled toward her across the room, and spears of blood leapt from her outstretched hand.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti knew a simple protective charm, nothing grand, a few lines to be muttered in a hurry. She\u0026rsquo;d never used it to stop more than a paper cut, but those words slipped from her now, and they blunted Ingrid\u0026rsquo;s blades and turned her spears.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The machine groaned and shuddered; the smooth transitions in the wall skipped, and she saw cracks on the stone.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;But Ingrid was closer, and speaking too, fast, in an Enochian dialect heavily influenced by Old High German\u0026mdash;and the machines twisted back again, dust raining from the walls, bits of rock tumbling down. Fire roared about Asanti\u0026rsquo;s feet, but she spoke the name of water and it stilled and sank. She tried to freeze Ingrid in her steps but she marched on, and closer, and now she was not talking to Asanti at all but to the machine, and Asanti realized she had been wrong before. She had not been using the machine to aid her incantations. She had just been closer to it, inside it, and that gave her spells more weight. But Ingrid was chanting to the machine itself, offering, inviting, and it flickered and gave itself to her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti countered, and spoke the machine\u0026rsquo;s name too, addressing it through the pain it had given her. She felt as if she stood on the skin of an enormous hungry beast, and now for the first time her cries and protests and stamping feet attracted its notice, and its mouth yawned wide.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She felt the world\u0026mdash;seething fault lines underground and in the sky, the fundamental courses of water, all turning somehow into this machine, driven by it. And Ingrid was here already, moving unspeakably fast, claiming it gear by gear, sector by sector, tireless and full\u0026mdash;and anywhere in this vast globe where Asanti ran, she was there first, wild-eyed and oh so hungry.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace hung over the tub, her hand outstretched.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She was a sculpture, a piece of crystal suspended by fine tricks and fishing line in the air. She might as well have been, for all she could move or fight. Ropes of blood rose from the bath, from Gala. They stroked Grace\u0026rsquo;s cheek and curled around her limbs. Time was going on somewhere. Just not for Grace.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She burned. She fed the candle weeks, and her fingers twitched, but the lotus shimmered on Gala\u0026rsquo;s belly, and Gala\u0026rsquo;s mouth curled into a cool and haughty smile. \u0026ldquo;Povel wanted to take you apart,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;Perhaps once Ingrid\u0026rsquo;s done, I\u0026rsquo;ll get to try.\u0026rdquo; She let out a sharp, pained breath. \u0026ldquo;I won\u0026rsquo;t have long to wait.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;What did that mean? Grace couldn\u0026rsquo;t ask. But her brain ran ahead. Ingrid must have made it through\u0026mdash;or if she hadn\u0026rsquo;t yet, she would soon. And through meant through Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal needed Grace to win, to live, to come back to her. But Grace was also counting on Sal to make sure \u003cem\u003eshe \u003c/em\u003esurvived, to make sure there was a Sal to come back to in the first place.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace could not let her down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She was not a weapon any more.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA weapon could not sacrifice itself.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFar away in London, a flaming pillar burst from Grace\u0026rsquo;s candlewick. Wall paint bubbled and ran. Wax poured down.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace had nine years left. Eight now. Seven. She saw the lotus smoke and turn, saw Gala\u0026rsquo;s eyes widen and tighten as she tried to compensate. But the lotus was blinding hot and fierce, a burning filament so bright it made the white tiles gray.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSix. Five.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe hated these people for what they\u0026rsquo;d done, but hate was not enough. She scorned them. They hid and curled around themselves. They sent others to do their killing. Ingrid passed her exhaustion and pain to her sister so she did not have to feel it. They talked about their dear brother but they\u0026rsquo;d left him to rot twice when it suited. They hid in shadows and they never paid their own price.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe descended dreamlike toward the tub, her hand inches from Gala\u0026rsquo;s throat.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFour years left. Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGala screamed, and the lotus\u0026rsquo;s power bore down on Grace, all its crystalline certainty locking her into a single instant. She heard a loud high musical note as the crystal\u0026rsquo;s petals cracked. Not enough. She needed more.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThree years. She shoved them faster to the fire. \u003cem\u003eI\u0026rsquo;m sorry, Frances\u0026mdash;I\u0026rsquo;m sorry, Perry. I hope the school doesn\u0026rsquo;t burn down. I\u0026rsquo;m sorry, Arturo, I know we had so much left to work through. And Sal. I\u0026rsquo;m sorry I\u0026rsquo;m sorry I\u0026rsquo;msorryimsorryimsorryi\u0026mdash;\u003c/em\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe lotus shattered.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace\u0026rsquo;s fist blurred forward and she felt her knuckles break on Gala\u0026rsquo;s face and felt bone shatter and cartilage pulp and the blood, those ropes of it that held her fast, it was just blood again and falling\u0026mdash;and then the sonic boom hit her, hard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAsanti was losing. Ingrid was too ready, too strong, too fast by far.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eAnd then she wasn\u0026rsquo;t.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Her chants broke. The blood that warded her and made her strong melted and burned away. Her hold on the machine\u0026mdash;slipped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The power she had woken, all the machine\u0026rsquo;s great systems she had twisted to her will, tore through her. She burned, and snapped, and fell.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And all that power, all the weight of all the worlds, settled on Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ch3\u003e5.\u003c/h3\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe did not die\u0026mdash;not at first. That was a surprise.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The world turns. We all know this, only it\u0026rsquo;s so big that we forget until something spoils our forgetting and we feel it spin. Imagine being large enough to feel it all the time. Imagine standing at its heart\u0026mdash;not the center of its matter, but the secret core that drives the world\u0026rsquo;s spin and allows it to continue. Imagine you set your hand upon that heart, and could press, or pull, or change.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The world turned around Asanti.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She could hear where it went wrong. The weaknesses of flesh fell away, the narrow doors of perception flung wide by her contact with the machine. The machine enlisted all things useful in its service. Why not her intellect as well?\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt needed her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere were leaks, imbalances, protests from this corner of the machine or that. Gears ground. Wheels squeaked, and bands pulled and frayed. The system was not built for this kind of strain. But she could fix it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It begged her to. It pulled her in.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;First she focused on the gears. She forced them right with a thought\u0026mdash;but more cracks spread in the stone on the walls, and she felt tremors in the earth thousands of miles away, great shattering pulses that brought high buildings down and split cities in half, and anyway pressing down against the gears made the wheels screech more. So she let the gears go, and turned her attention to the wheels, which slowed under her attention even as fibers snapped in the timing band and on the other side of the globe a confluence of heat and air currents shifted and gave birth to a century storm. And the band frayed on.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She could fix this. She had to fix it.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The load was the problem: so many minds pulling in so many directions, so much rage and hate and fear, so many vivid dreams of the world to come. Unite the fears, forge them, and relieve the strain in the process, and perhaps the weight would ease. But when she tried to focus on anything smaller than a continent, her attention fuzzed out and she lost control. This machine was not built to work small.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She found herself weighing\u0026mdash;just as a question, an exercise\u0026mdash;continents. And deciding which one she should sink.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She heard a voice, a small distant voice, so far away. A man\u0026rsquo;s voice, a friend\u0026rsquo;s.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Father Mench\u0026uacute; was approaching her, in the room that was not a room, where her body was, and some part of herself still.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Asanti,\u0026rdquo; he said. \u0026ldquo;Listen to me. Come back.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Moving her body again felt strange, like the world did when she tried to handle something too small. \u0026ldquo;Arturo. I can fix it. I see how. It doesn\u0026rsquo;t all have to break. Not all of it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s what they wanted. Hannah, too. Don\u0026rsquo;t do this.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;ve been looking for an answer,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;A way to save the world. This is it. I just needed perspective. A place to stand. They were evil\u0026mdash;but evil people can find the right answers.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The room ground and tore around her, the gears and wheels and bands all straining, the catastrophe engine in desperate motion. And Mench\u0026uacute; offered her his hand. His eyes were wide, his shirt and collar streaked with blood. \u0026ldquo;Asanti. They found their answers. Are you saying you can\u0026rsquo;t find a better one?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The solution hung there, beautiful, parsimonious, perfectly balanced. Elegant in its simplicity.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;But a right answer could still be bad.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She pulled herself out of the machine.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;It did not want to let her go. She was such a helpful mind\u0026mdash;such perspective, brilliant at error-catching; surely she should stay. She should give herself to this.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;But she owed herself to others first.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;With a cry of triumph and despair, Asanti pulled her hand out of the machine. It refused to let her go, but she was no one\u0026rsquo;s servant. There were other battles to fight, and other, better answers to find, than the ones this dumb thing had given her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And the machine\u0026mdash;stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSal came back to consciousness slowly, then all at once. She heard falling rocks and grinding gears, and screams, and found her feet, only they weren\u0026rsquo;t actually there so she had to slip and fall and find them all over again.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;But when she made it up she saw the blood, and Liam recovering, and the wreck of the alabaster room, and the open door beyond. She started running, and almost fell then too, but caught herself on the cut lip of the alabaster door. In front of the room where they were never supposed to go, the room where Asanti had promised to touch nothing except as a last resort.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Well, the resort felt pretty last to Sal. And they weren\u0026rsquo;t dead yet, so that counted for something.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Asanti crouched in the center of the room, curled around her broken hand, and Mench\u0026uacute; sat beside her, holding her. The room looked perfectly ordinary otherwise, save for the machine hovering in its center.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;The machine, too, seemed ordinary, save of course for the hovering. And the fact that it had stopped.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She heard slow, droll applause, and for a moment froze, thinking, \u003cem\u003eIngrid\u0026mdash;she\u0026rsquo;s still alive, that\u0026rsquo;s not her body on the floor\u003c/em\u003e. But Mench\u0026uacute; looked up and said, \u0026ldquo;You,\u0026rdquo; dripping venom, and if that wasn\u0026rsquo;t enough of a clue, Sal recognized the voice that answered him.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I can\u0026rsquo;t believe you people.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal took a deep breath and turned. \u0026ldquo;I thought you were gone,\u0026rdquo; she said. \u0026ldquo;I thought you\u0026rsquo;d flounced off and left us to our own devices.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;A woman with silver eyes stood in the alabaster doorway. When Sal had first seen her, Hannah had looked like this, short hair, bluntly handsome, a figure made in a mold. But that was just one form, and as Hannah stopped clapping she flowed to other shapes: a young boy, an old man, Sal\u0026rsquo;s mother, herself again, each form a facet of the entity. \u0026ldquo;And I thought you lot had caused enough trouble already. But here we are. Do you have any idea what you just did? Using the pillars for tug-of-war like that\u0026mdash;breaking one! I had gone off into the outer realms to spend a very long time in the shape of a tree, eating whoever happened to wander by, until I forgot all about this damned project. You have no idea what a mess you\u0026rsquo;ve made. There\u0026rsquo;s as much causality leaking from our project into the Outside now as there is Outside flowing in. And every time I turn around somebody\u0026rsquo;s bothering me about it.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;We\u0026rsquo;re trying to survive,\u0026rdquo; Sal said.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;That,\u0026rdquo; Hannah replied, \u0026ldquo;is not my problem. You\u0026rsquo;ve made it clear you don\u0026rsquo;t want my help\u0026mdash;and now you\u0026rsquo;re causing even more trouble. So that\u0026rsquo;s it. Project\u0026rsquo;s over. We can\u0026rsquo;t just let it sit here decaying and ruining everyone\u0026rsquo;s day. It\u0026rsquo;ll take a little while to close things down properly, but consider yourself warned. Past time, really. Shame to see. Enjoy it while it lasts.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Sal ran for her, but her arms closed on empty air. She turned back to Mench\u0026uacute; and Asanti. \u0026ldquo;What now?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;Asanti leaned on Mench\u0026uacute;, and together they stood. Her voice was shaky, but she spoke. \u0026ldquo;Now we find a better answer.\u0026rdquo; She held out her broken hand. In the ruined palm, she held something brown and small and hard.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;What\u0026rsquo;s that?\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;I don\u0026rsquo;t know,\u0026rdquo; Asanti said. \u0026ldquo;But I think it\u0026rsquo;s a seed.\u0026rdquo;\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003chr\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eGrace and Kasrin stumbled from the Ritz after the earthquake stopped. Broken glass littered the sidewalk, and somewhere a car alarm blared. Grace walked slowly, carefully. She could not afford to lose any more time.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She didn\u0026rsquo;t know if they were alive or dead, or how much time had passed since she hit the wall. She woke up to find Kasrin slapping her cheek, trying to wake her up; she was coated in a thin layer of dust, and there was a foul taste in her mouth, and somewhere an alarm was going off.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eShe\u0026rsquo;d told the girl to leave, yes. And she had. But then she came back for her.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Grace blinked in the fierce sunlight, and shaded her eyes. She tried not to run the math again, but it was simple math. She had the answer soon as thinking.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;Six months of her candle left. Maybe less.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026ldquo;Now what?\u0026rdquo; Kasrin asked.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;She was still looking for the answer when a black van screeched up to the curb. Heavy tires crushed glass. Grace crouched in front of Kasrin, and raised her hands, and tried not to think about six months, and candle flames, and how long it had been since she\u0026rsquo;d had a real fight without moving at least a little fast.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;But the van\u0026rsquo;s door rolled open and there\u0026mdash;bloody, bruised, face swollen, but still\u0026mdash;was Sal.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;And everything else could wait.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u003c/p\u003e","description":"\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003ePreviously on \u003cem\u003eBookburners\u003c/em\u003e:\u003c/strong\u003e\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\nThe Oracle of Delphi told the Bookburners that they’d be going to the Library of Alexandria, where they’ve been once before and met the librarian, Youssef, an old friend of Menchú’s. The Maitresse left Liam a gift that seemed to mock him but ultimately gave him the ability to go into other people’s minds. The Engströms showed up in Greece, and murdered the Oracle of Delphi. Sal and Grace struggled to come to terms with the way Grace’s time becomes shorter every time she burns her candle for extra strength, and fought about Grace’s feelings regarding Sal’s leadership. \n\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003cp\u003e\n Who's Who:\n\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSal\u003c/strong\u003e: Former NYPD detective and newest member of Team Three.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFather Menchú\u003c/strong\u003e: Field leader of Team Three. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGrace\u003c/strong\u003e: Team Three’s human wrecking ball, whose life is tied to a magic candle.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eArchivist Asanti\u003c/strong\u003e: Archivist and guardian of the Black Archives.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerry Brooks\u003c/strong\u003e: Sal’s brother; now half human, half angel.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eFrances Haddad\u003c/strong\u003e: Asanti’s former assistant, whose legs were replaced by tentacles after an unfortunate magical incident. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe Maitresse\u003c/strong\u003e: Overseer of the Market Arcanum.\u003c/p\u003e \n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eHannah\u003c/strong\u003e: Current embodiment of the being that destroyed Father Menchú’s village. \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePovel Engström\u003c/strong\u003e: A rich, spoiled son of a powerful magical family \u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eIngrid and Gala Enström\u003c/strong\u003e: Povel’s twin sisters; much more powerful and ambitious than their brother.\u003c/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eYoussef\u003c/strong\u003e: Librarian at the Library of Alexandria\u003c/p\u003e\n\n\u003chr\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWriter: Max Gladstone\n\u003cbr\u003eCover Artist: Jeffrey Veregge\n\u003cbr\u003eEditor: Marco Palmieri\u003c/p\u003e","sku":"com.serialboxpublishing.serialbox.article.253","slug":"bookburners-s4e10","audio":"","epub":"","mobi":"","pdf":"","share_url":"false","item_price":199,"bundle_price":199,"subscriber_price":159,"header_bg_color":"","number_display":"EPISODE 10"}],"default_price":"15.99","current_price":"15.99"}