Zayvion calmly chanted and set each of them on fire, leaving scorched patches in the grass.
I tried to breathe air that didn’t make me want to hurl but wasn’t having much luck.
“Let’s go,” Zayvion said. “We’ve seen enough.”
I put the gun back in my pocket, only then realizing that I hadn’t even remembered to take the safety off.
“We’ve seen enough what? Magic tainting Veiled or Veiled tainting magic?”
“Magic tainting the Veiled.”
“Are you sure?”
“Enough that I want people out here, scientists, magic users, investigating it before it spreads.”
Zayvion pulled out his phone and dialed with his thumb. Interesting, it wasn’t a number he had on speed dial. “Put me through to Bartholomew,” he said.
I looked around for Bea, caught just a glimpse of her ahead of us. She might have seen most of that. Or if she wasn’t casting Sight, she might have just seen us walking around the tree trunk.
No, she’d probably seen it. If I were shadowing this job, I would have had Sight ready to go the moment Zayvion started messing with the tree.
We had hiked halfway down the trail before Zayvion spoke again. Apparently his cell reception was good.
“The magic in the cistern isn’t clean,” Zay said. No preamble, no pleasantries, just straight to the point.
Because we were hiking and Zay was a good distance ahead of me, and the wind was making that ocean wave sound in the trees, I couldn’t hear Bartholomew’s response.
“Yes. I’ve gone to a cistern and seen it with my own eyes. I want a team at every cistern in the city checking this out.” He paused. “Like hell we don’t need any further investigation.” Pause again. “The Veiled,” he said just a little louder, then took his tone down, “crossed through the cistern, and the magic changed them. They were immune to my defensive spells.” He waited as Bartholomew spoke.
Then, “No, it is a problem. If magic is poisoned, the poison may have spread from the holding tanks down the networked lines throughout the city. If there are any failures or leaks in those lines, then not only is the magic everyone pulls on going to make them sick, it’s also going to draw the attention of the Veiled, who are attacking anyone who casts a spell.”
Again the wait. We were almost back to the parking area. The wind had picked up some, cooling the sunlight.
“You are forgetting Sedra had been possessed by Isabelle for years,” he said. “She had full access to the cisterns and the wells. There’s no knowing what she might have had set up to trigger when she died. No, you’re wrong. They both have done harm with magic—first they sent the Veiled with disks to kill us and then, over the Life well, they tried to join together—with magic—in one body.
“They broke magic’s rules because they are Soul Complements.” He paused again, but I could feel the anger building in him. Anger that had been building ever since Bartholomew had fired Victor.
“Guardian of the gates means I protect people, I don’t just stand by and watch them die. No, not even under orders.” A longer pause this time—probably Bartholomew telling him exactly what he expected Zayvion to do. “My duty is to keep magic from killing people.” Zayvion stopped so quickly I almost ran into his back. “Bullshit.” Pause. “No. I absolutely refuse.”
I could tell he had made a decision. His shoulders squared and his left hand curled into a fist. “Fuck that,” he said. “You can find a new Guardian of the gates. I quit.”
He thumbed his phone off and threw it into the forest, where it smashed against a tree.
He stood there, hands clenched into fists, chin high, looking like he wanted to beat the living hell out of something. I waited for him to calm down, waited for him to pull that cool Zen mask of his over the fury.
That didn’t happen. He stormed down the last of the trail, and out into the parking lot. His anger hadn’t eased even a notch by the time we reached the car. “Get in,” he said. “We need to be out of here before they track my phone.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Bartholomew’s dogs.”
Chapter Sixteen
“What just happened?” I asked as soon as we were in the car.
“Bartholomew will not listen to me. He doesn’t give a flat damn about how many people are dying, doesn’t believe magic is tainted, doesn’t believe the Veiled are tainted, and doesn’t want me, or anyone else, to do anything about it.”
“So you quit?” I asked, feeling strangely dizzy from the suddenness of that decision.
He glared at me.
“Haven’t you’ve been telling me you would never quit—that you had to uphold your vow and your duty?” I said. “You promised Victor you’d follow Bartholomew’s orders. And now, when things are getting bad, you decide to just give up on being Guardian of the gate?”
Zayvion’s breathing was pretty shallow, like there wasn’t enough room in his lungs with all the anger crowding his chest. “Do not lecture me,” he said tightly. “You don’t understand this, Allie. You could never understand what I have done as Guardian. What I have had to do.”
“Make me understand,” I said. Yes, Zayvion’s quitting the Authority was freaking me out way more than I’d expected. I hated that he’d Closed people I loved, but I’d found a way to accept it because he’d told me that duty would always come first for him and that was never going to change. But now he was changing his mind, changing the rules, changing who he was because this thing at the cistern hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to.
“You Closed Victor and Maeve because you were ordered to, but when Bartholomew doesn’t listen to your advice to scramble a team, you quit?” I asked.
“Do you think that’s what this is about?” he said quietly. “Me wanting Bartholomew’s respect? Is that who you think I am?”
“No.” I looked away from his eyes that were burning gold. “I don’t know. I don’t understand the timing of this, Zay. You’ve always been the Authority’s man. You’ve told me that will never change, and now it’s changing. Why now? What happens to you if you quit? What are they going to do to you?”
I reached over and touched his arm.
A cavalcade of emotions crashed through me—Zayvion’s emotions. Anger, frustration, and more than that, guilt, sorrow, loss. Zayvion hated the choice he was making. Hated being forced to decide if his life with the Authority—the only thing he had ever wanted to be or do—had become not only a mockery but also a tragedy under Bartholomew’s reign.
And overriding those feelings was the single clear note of his conviction.
“Yes, I have Closed people. Yes, I have taken the memories away from magic users, from my teachers and my friends. But I will not stand idly by while innocent people are dying.”
I couldn’t look away from him, from the pain that had cornered him into this final moment, this final decision.
People who were a part of the Authority understood the risks they were taking with magic. They understood they could be Closed, or that magic could hurt them in ways the common magic user did not know. But the innocent, people who were not a part of the Authority, people who were not a part of the secrets and ancient dealings, did not know any of that. Zayvion had vowed to keep magic users safe, keep the innocent safe from the harm magic could cause. He was keeping that vow. Even if it meant he had to break his promise to the Authority.
I understood his decision now. “Victor wanted you—,” I started.
“Victor wanted me to follow the rules and laws of the Authority,” he said softly. “That’s what I’m doing. Bartholomew isn’t upholding the Authority’s most basic tenet—to protect the innocent. He might say he’s here to fix all our problems. But he doesn’t have a clue, and he won’t listen to what’s really going on.”
“They’ll Close you,” I said.
“They’ll try.”
I drew my hand away and the intensity of his feelings subsided. “Do you have a plan?” I asked.
“I
don’t need a plan.” He started the car and began driving out of the park.
I sighed. “I do. What we need is some way to neutralize the poison in the cisterns and city system if it’s gotten that far. We’d be able to help the most people that way, and maybe it will also help with the epidemic. Unless you think we should try to track down the Veiled first and try to stop them from spreading the poison. If that’s what they’re actually doing.”
He shook his head. “That would take days, maybe months.”
“How we can clean magic?”
“I don’t know.”
Dad, I thought. Do you have any ideas on how to cleanse magic?
It took him a moment or two before he finally answered. I don’t know if it’s fully possible to cleanse magic. You don’t know what the toxin is, or where it’s stemming from.
Here’s how this is going to work, I thought to him. You are going to tell me everything you know about the cisterns and magic storage and containment in this city. Then you’re going to tell me the best way to cleanse the poison from the magic flowing through the city. The one good thing about sharing a brain with someone was you could tell when they were very, very serious.
I was very, very serious.
There are . . . filters built into each cistern, Dad said. Placed there in case of an emergency such as this. They can be triggered, and they should purify magic, or at least most of it. If the poison is naturally occurring, if it’s still pouring into the cisterns and lines and network in a passive manner, even the filters might not be enough to neutralize it. I might be able to think of something else if we have more data.
I don’t think we have time for data, I said. This is a good start. Thank you.
“Dad says there are filters on the cisterns,” I said. “We can trigger them, and they might cleanse magic or slow the spread of the poison.”
“Does he know how to trigger the filters?”
Dad? I asked.
It was set as an emergency procedure that would be enacted by five members of the Authority—each working one of the five disciplines of magic.
“We need five people who can work the disciplines,” I said. “I can’t cast, so I’m out. You can handle Faith magic, Shame would probably do Death for us. We need Blood, Flux, and Life magic.”
My mind was spinning, but I couldn’t think of magic users who could handle each of those disciplines and who would be willing to go in direct conflict with Bartholomew’s orders to help us. Not to mention that if we were caught doing it, I was pretty sure Closing wouldn’t be the worst of our punishment.
“We need more people,” I said. “Who do you trust in the Authority who might go along with this?”
“Shame, Terric, Hayden, Kevin.” And then, quieter, “Victor and Maeve if they had their memories.”
“You think Kevin would help us?” I asked.
“Not as long as Violet is a part of the Authority. He won’t put her in jeopardy like that.”
That was true. He had started out as her bodyguard, and I was pretty sure had fallen in love with her. He might be on our side but he wouldn’t risk her safety.
There was one fairly straightforward option. I knew it. Zayvion knew it. But if we did it, there would be no going back. His career with the Authority would be over for good.
“Can Victor and Maeve cast magic well enough even without the memories you took away?” I asked.
Zayvion didn’t say anything for a while. I knew he was working out the repercussions of what I was really asking: would he be willing to Unclose them? I didn’t push. This was something only he could decide.
We were almost back in the downtown area when he spoke.
“They can cast magic, but not at a high level,” Zayvion said. “That was part of the Closing required for those levels—some of their memories, and instincts for certain of the more advanced spells, remain inaccessible.”
I still didn’t comment.
Finally, “Victor. I’ll start with Victor. It will take the longest to Unclose him. Then I’ll try Maeve.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.
“I know what my job is. And,” he added, “I made up my mind. This is our best chance to turn this disaster around.”
“How long will it take?”
“For Victor, maybe an hour or more. Maeve, less.”
“Okay. I want you to drop me off at the police department,” I said.
“Like hell.”
“I’m going to talk to Stotts. He’s already suspicious about the epidemic. Seems open to the idea that the Veiled are involved. And if we’re working some kind of magic to trigger all of the cisterns in the city, or filter them, he’s going to see the spike on the grid.”
“I don’t care.”
“If he can see it, the Authority can certainly see it.”
He scowled. “Still don’t give a damn. Let them see it.”
“And then they send out Bartholomew’s dogs and every other magic user in their employ. Hundreds of people, Zayvion. And some of them will be more than happy to use magic, guns, or anything else to stop a mutiny.”
The lightbulb still wasn’t flickering.
I tried it another way. “Stotts can cover our tracks, cover any flares, cover the spike so even the Authority can’t see it. He has the equipment, he’s just never known there was an Authority to hide things from.”
That, finally, got through. “He’s a civilian.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he’s been Closed because he helped save me and you when we walked through the gates of death. And he’s been attacked by the Veiled. I think he deserves to know what’s going on in the town he’s trying to keep safe, and then he can make his own decisions about helping us.”
“Dragging the law into this—”
“If you’re not a part of the Authority anymore, then you are no longer required to cover up for them. Let the chips fall, Zayvion. Bartholomew can try to pick them up.”
“You seem awfully comfortable with this kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
“Rebellion.”
“It gets easier with practice,” I said with a smile.
Zay took a tight U-turn and headed toward the police station.
“We’ll need a meeting place,” I said. “Somewhere the Authority doesn’t know about.”
“There isn’t any crack or crevice in this city the Authority doesn’t know about.”
“Grant’s,” I said.
“No. Everyone knows Get Mugged.”
“Not Get Mugged. His place, his apartment under the shop. He said he has access to the Shanghai tunnels.” The tunnels were built over a hundred years ago as a way for tavern owners to smuggle drunks out of the city and into forced servitude on ships headed to China. I’d always heard that most of the tunnels had been closed off. Hopefully, that’s what the Authority had heard too.
Zay nodded. “The Authority doesn’t really monitor the tunnels.”
“Good. We’ll meet there, and decide which cistern filter to trigger first, and how. Can you stop the car for a minute?”
Zay pulled over into an alley and Bea’s car rolled past us and parked along the street. I got out.
“Allie—”
“A minute. I’ll be back.”
I jogged over to Bea’s car and knocked on the passenger-side window, which she powered down.
“Way to blow my cover, Beckstrom,” she said. “Want to get in? I have cookies.”
“For a sec. Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.”
She unlocked the door and I got in. Her car smelled of strawberries and she had a little teddy bear hugging a stuffed alligator on her dash. The toys bore an amazing resemblance to her and Jack.
She handed me her phone. “What trouble are you getting me into?”
“I’m calling Detective Stotts so I can meet with him. I think my phone’s being tracked.”
“Nice.”
I dialed his number, got h
im on the first ring. “Detective Stotts,” he said.
“This is Allie. I need to see you now. I know what’s going on and I know what to do to fix it.”
“Where are you?” he asked over a creaking sound in the background.
“I’ll come to you. Bye.” I thumbed it off, handed it back to Bea.
“Gonna let me in on the secret?” she asked.
“Not yet. If I need help, yes. But do me a favor. I need you to go back to the den and tell Collins to take Davy somewhere safe. Anyplace that he knows no one in an authority position would find him. And be sure to say it like that.”
“The whole thing?”
“Just that he needs to find a place where people in an authority position won’t find him.”
“Got it, authority position. Be careful,” she said.
I got out of the car, pulled my phone. I erased all numbers and messages and removed the battery. Just for good measure, I threw it into the garbage Dumpster.
Then I got back in with Zay. The whole thing had taken maybe two minutes.
“What was that?” He drove down the alley and back onto the street.
“I needed to call Stotts, so I used Bea’s phone. Also I dumped mine. I told Bea to go tell Collins to take Davy somewhere safe.” My stomach clenched a little at that. I was trusting Davy’s life to a man I’d barely met. A man who had come highly recommended by my father, of all people.
“I should have taken Davy to the hospital,” I said.
“No,” Zay said. “If he were there, he’d be under the Authority’s watch. Too easy to use him as a bargaining chip.”
“I don’t bargain.”
“If Davy’s life was on the table?”
“Shit.”
“I’ll contact Hayden after I’ve taken care of Victor,” he said. “Are you sure your dad knows how to neutralize the poison?”
Dad?
It’s what I would try first, he said.
“He just said this is the first thing he’d try.”
“Hell.” He sighed.
That pretty much summed up my reaction too. But we were out of options here, and frankly, Dad had been really helpful lately. He felt trustworthy to me.