“Do we have enough nullifiers?”
“Four on site and the big one upstairs. The EGE packages were delivered this morning, and everything seems to be working fine”
“Excellent. When the time comes, send the men first. Those robots were expensive.”
They paused at the stairs. The old man needed a breather before tackling them. Crow could smell the bodyguards’ fear as they watched him. They were pathetic. Sure, they thought they were tough, but they were nothing. The Coordinator’s inner circle were all true believers, thinking they could control Actives. Sharps had been a prizefighter until a tiny Active had whipped him. Some of them, like Deych, had been Carr’s students back when he was a professor, going on and on about how someday they would see his idealized world. It was tempting to just reach out and pluck their eyes out; then they wouldn’t see shit, but Crow refrained.
“I want this expedited, Mr. Crow. I want to proceed with the next attack as scheduled. I have to keep up the pressure. If we do not strike while the iron is hot, then my political allies will lose their will and all this work will have been for nothing.”
“I’ll spread the word that we’re going to start executing prisoners tomorrow. That ought to get their attention.”
“Excellent idea as usual . . . Make it two days.”
“If it feels too rushed, they might just chicken out.”
“Exactly. Let them plan, but not for too long. Let them bring in reinforcements. I want all of these meddlers dead. The nail that sticks up must be hammered down. Remember, the only one I care about capturing alive is the Traveler girl. She is a valuable anomaly. If she truly inherited Warlock’s magic, I can only imagine what I could learn from studying her.”
Dissecting her, you mean, but Crow held his tongue. “My pleasure.”
Hartwood, Virginia
IT WAS A SMALL TOWN, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t being watched. Hammer drove around the country store once before coming back and parking near the telephone booth. She was still driving a stolen car, and the last thing she needed was to be picked up by the law for something stupid. Since the coast was clear, she got out and walked quickly to the payphone. If she was gone too long, Sullivan would get suspicious. The Grimnoir were extra jumpy since another one of their own had gone missing.
Her argument had made sense. If she kept checking in periodically with the OCI like she was supposed to, then they wouldn’t get suspicious. If she went silent, then they’d assume she’d been killed or compromised. Surprisingly enough, Sullivan had agreed with her, and not even had anyone ride with her to make sure she wasn’t selling them out. For someone in a rough line of work, he seemed remarkably trusting, but she wouldn’t have been surprised to discover the farmhouse abandoned by the time she got back.
Hammer dropped in the coins, got the operator, and gave the number that Crow had supplied. The connection wasn’t very good. She got a man that didn’t identify himself, and when she asked for Crow, he told her to hold. Two minutes of background echo later, Crow answered. “Hammer? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I lost the trail for a while, but I’ve picked it back up.”
“We found your car.” Truth. “I was worried you’d been hurt.” Lie.
“I thought they’d spotted me at one point, so I switched vehicles. I was wrong, though. It wasn’t them.” For somebody with magic based in truth, she could be an extremely convincing liar.
“Where are you?”
She scanned the empty road and the quiet store. There were no witnesses, but he had a government agency full of professional investigators. Surely he’d have somebody talk to the operator to figure out where she’d connected from. “Northern Virginia, but the trail’s cold here. They’re a day or two ahead of me and heading south. I’ll check back in when I get closer.”
“Fine. Try to wrap it up. We’re about through with him. The German’s been scheduled to die in forty-eight hours.” Truth. “So new sources would be helpful.”
“I’ll do my best . . .”
There was a sudden thump against the glass. Hammer jumped. Somebody was right outside the booth and she had no idea how’d they’d gotten there. A pair of grey eyes were gleaming at her from under a gigantic straw hat. It was the Traveler girl. Excited, Faye jerked the door open and Hammer instinctively put her hand over the mouthpiece. Faye mouthed the word, Wait!
Crow was saying goodbye. She uncovered the mouthpiece. “Wait,” Hammer said, then covered it back up.
“Ask about Francis!” the Traveler whispered.
“What is it?” Crow asked.
“One thing . . . Just thought of something. I saw in the papers about that rich guy in New York. Stuyvesant?”
“Yeah?”
“Was that one of our captures?” She liked the choice of the word our. It made her sound like a team player. “I mean, it identified him as Grimnoir. Did we get him, or do I need to be on the lookout for him too?”
“We got him,” Crow said proudly. “He’s downstairs with the German.” True.
“Okay, good to know.” Hammer looked at the Traveler, who was nervously biting her lip. “I’ll be in touch.” She hung up the phone. “They’ve got your friend. The German dies day after tomorrow.”
“Gosh dang it.” Faye wandered off, hands on her hips, and kicked the brick wall of the corner drugstore. “I told him not to do anything stupid. Now I have to go save him too.”
“You followed me.”
“Of course,” Faye said indignantly. “I’m not dumb. I wanted to see if you were going to fink us out.”
“And if I had?”
The Traveler just smiled, weird grey eyes narrowing. “Bad things would have happened.”
“What are you, twelve? Are you threatening me, girl?”
“I’m eighteen . . . I’m pretty sure.” Faye folded her arms indignantly. “Listen, lady. Mr. Sullivan said that your magic makes it so you can always tell when folks are lying, so try this one on for size. If you had told Crow where to find us, I would’ve killed you extra hard. I would have killed you so fast that you wouldn’t have seen it coming. I’d have killed you and made it extra messy as a warning to anybody else that was hunting my friends, unless I decided to make it look like an accident, because then I’d have just Traveled you over in front of a truck and left you there . . . Basically, lady, you do not want to mess with me.”
The terrifying little girl was absolutely telling the truth, and it didn’t bother her in the least. “How many people have you killed?”
Faye shrugged. “I’ve lost count. Around a hundred or so, give or take twenty. It can get pretty confusing sometimes and I don’t always stick around to see if they’re all the way dead or only mostly. So, you mind if I ride back with you? Traveling to keep up with a speeding car is hard work and I didn’t sleep much last night so I’m plumb tuckered out. Come on. Not magic tired, that’s fine, I mean my body is tired.” Faye began walking for Hammer’s car. “What? Come on already. We’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s going to be a super-busy day.”
“You just threatened to kill me . . .”
“Only if you were a fink, but you didn’t tell on us, which makes you okay far as I’m concerned, so now we can be friends. Hurry up, Pemberly. Can I call you that? Pemberly is a real pretty name.” Faye opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Don’t make me start honking the horn. I’m a fugitive, you know, and that’s very embarrassing.”
Hammer followed the strange girl and got into the car. “Back to the farm?”
“Nope. The others just got back, so some of us are going on a top secret mission. I think Washington is supposed to be that way.” Faye pointed the wrong direction. Hammer pointed the other way. “Okay. Great. I’ve never seen Washington, D.C. before. We’ve got a jailbreak to plan!”
Bell Farm, Virginia
SHE WOKE UP RIDING in the military truck. The rumble of the Big Fight was silent for the first time in days. Somewhere behind her, everyone she’d ever known was g
one because of the killer with grey eyes. The man that saved her noticed she was awake.“My name is Jacques Montand.”
She tried to talk, but her voice didn’t want to work. Finally, she was able to squeak out, “Are you a policeman?”
He could probably barely hear her over the loud engine, but he shook his head. “No. I lied to those American soldiers. My papers are forgeries. I am something different, though we also try to help people, just in a different way. Especially people with magic. I have magic and I can tell you do too. So now I’m going to try to help you. Do you have any other family, friends I can take you to?”
She shook her head no.
“I would offer to drop you off at your local church, but it appeared that a dirigible from the front has crash-landed on top of it.”
“I have nobody,” she whispered. “The monster took them.”
“Yes, he was a monster. His name was Anand Sivaram. We called him the Warlock. He’d cursed himself with a terrible spell. It was that spell that made him what he was and you were very brave to face him. Very brave, indeed. He’s gone now. . . . What is your name, child?”
“Coline,” she answered softly.
“What? I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. You will have to speak up.”
She tried again, but her sadness caught up, and then she couldn’t talk anymore.
“It’s alright. You are very quiet. It is fine to be quiet if that makes you more comfortable.” He turned to her and tried to give a consoling smile. “How about for now, I simply call you Whisper?”
Her eyes opened. Sad memories of her seven-year-old self were replaced by her twenty-two-year old present. Whisper sat up in bed and listened. The decrepit farmhouse was silent. The second floor felt empty. Most of the others had left on a fool’s errand. She had told them that she was exhausted from the drive and needed to rest, and that was mostly true, but there was also another matter she needed to attend to privately.
There was a mirror in the bedroom, but it had been cracked long ago. It didn’t matter, though, since she found one corner that was large enough to work on. This particular door did not have a lock, so Whisper braced a chair against it. She had the glass shard prepared in a minute. The Grimnoir elder that had sent her on this mission appeared quickly.
“Whisper. Oh, thank God. I was worried.”
“I’m fine, Jacques.” She had to smile. He had always been quick to worry about her. “You taught me too well. It’ll take more than one gigantic demon to do me in.”
“You were a fine student and an even better knight,” he said proudly. “But an old man is allowed to fret over our loved ones. That’s what we do best.” His manner turned grave. “Any new developments with the Spellbound?”
Whisper noted it was no longer Faye or even the Traveler, it was simply the Spellbound. “She’s growing stronger again. She used a spell like the one we are using now to check ahead for danger and then Traveled several hundred miles in one jump.”
“Unbelievable. I assume she was close by when George Bolander died?”
Whisper nodded. “He was a brave man, with a very strong connection to the Power. What did the other elders have to say about my report?”
“They believe that we should wait and observe. If she does not realize the extent of her abilities, then perhaps she will not be tempted to grow them to a dangerous level. Though she is cursed, she is also innocent of any wrongdoing, and they felt that any preemptive action was unconscionable.”
“And what do you think?”
Jacques looked away. He was a just and decent man, but he alone among the elders knew what they were truly facing. He had spent much of his life studying the Warlock, tracking him down, and eventually destroying him. No one in the Society knew more about the dangers of that awful curse than Jacques. “I voted to eliminate the Spellbound immediately.”
The answer was sad, but expected. “Do not call her that. She is more than her curse. She is a person. She has a name. Faye is a good girl. She is kind, generous, and brave. I am honored to call her my friend.”
The man that raised her shook his head sadly. “So you agree with the elders then? Leave her be as she grows increasingly unstable and dangerous? I do not like it, but I will follow my oath and abide by the decision. I just did not expect you to agree so readily.”
Whisper surprised him. “There is no agreement.”
“I do not understand.”
“If you are prepared to kill someone, you should at least have the courage to call them by name. This choice should not be easy. I do not wish to make my decision lightly. Her name is Faye and she is good . . . but she is dangerous. When the natural progression of things was not quick enough, how many people died by Warlock’s greedy hands?”
“There is no definite answer . . . Hundreds for certain. Perhaps more. India, Persia, Turkey, across North Africa, finally France . . . We followed him by the corpses left in his wake. How many others did I not see with my own eyes? Who can say?”
“And if you had not tracked him down at the cost of so many of our people,” Whisper said, obviously meaning both her family and the knights that had been under Jacques’ command. “If he had been able to soak up the million slaughtered at Second Somme . . .”
“He would have been unbeatable.” Jacques was concerned, and he was right to be. “What are you suggesting?”
“How many lives could have been saved if the Society had known about Warlock’s research earlier? What if they had moved against him sooner?”
“We did not know about him until it was too late,” Jacques answered quickly. “I know what you are thinking, but the elders have spoken. Whisper, please—”
“How many orphans will the Society’s inaction create this time?”
“You will do nothing!” Jacques shouted. “The decision has been made. She is not to be harmed.”
Whisper turned away from the mirror. “Very well . . .”
“Whisper?”
“I will not harm Faye.” She would not look at him. “My observation mission is done here, then. What would you have me do, elder?”
The use of his title stung. “Come home, please. Things are becoming too dangerous in America.”
“Do you doubt my skill as a knight now, as well?”
“Of course not!”
“There is much to be done here, then. I would like to assist until the Society’s name has been cleared of these crimes, and after that, I am convinced that the concern about this Enemy being is legitimate. I think my Power will be of more use here than at home.”
“I . . .” He hung his head in shame. “You have always been a very headstrong, but brave girl. Very well. Be careful. Anything you need, please let me know.”
“Goodbye, Jacques.”
“I know this is difficult and it seems as if no one understands your loss, but I do,” he said as the spell faded away. “Farewell, Whisper.”
He was gone. Wrong answer, Jacques. What do you know about loss? She had been forced to lie to the man who raised her as his own child. Furious, Whisper tore out the corner of glass and dashed it against the floor. “No more orphans, Jacques. I will allow no more.”
Chapter 16
We can argue all day whether they are one in a thousand or one in a hundred, but what about when they are one in ten? One in five? All the experts agree their numbers are growing. When is it going to be enough? When will they stop? How much is too much? You’ve all heard about the Active supremacists’ plot. They think they’re better than us. They won’t be happy until they overthrow this great democracy and rule us with an iron fist! It is time to take a stand! Join me, brothers, as we converge on Washington. This week we are already ten thousand strong, but we need more. What have you done today to protect your country from them! We need your help to resist magical tyranny. Together, we will make our voices heard!
—Radio promotion for the
League for a Magic-Free America march
on Washington, 1933
Wash
ington D.C.
THIRTY AGENTS from the Bureau of Investigation had been detailed to this operation by the Director. Extra agents were already in the city to keep an eye on the ever-growing numbers participating in the antimagic protest. They did not know the particulars of the case, only that J. Edgar Hoover insisted that it was of the utmost importance, and he was overseeing the operation personally.
Per Hoover’s orders, an agent had left a large courier envelope under some bushes at a small park on the corner of two busy streets. Ten agents had eyes and telescopes on the package. They were undercover, sitting on nearby park benches, watching from windows or rooftops, or simply out for a stroll. The other agents were waiting in chase cars, ready to swoop in and grab whoever picked up the package.
The agents were in the dark. Was it a ransom payment? A foreign spy? Communist agitators trying to stir up trouble in the antimagic mob? Was it related to the Active Plot? All they knew was that Hoover was taking this case very seriously, and he’d warned them to be ready for anything. The director was pacing nervously in the command center, listening to the constant radio check-ins.
The package had been placed at noon on the dot. It was now just after two o’clock in the afternoon and nobody had so much as sniffed around. A dog entered the area and began exploring the bushes, looking for a place to do its business. The presence of a golden retriever was dutifully reported. Twenty seconds after entering the bushes, the dog reappeared, carrying the courier package in its mouth.
As soon as he heard, Hoover ordered his men to seize the dog.
The agents had not been prepared to chase a dog. The retriever fled up the street and into an alley where it was briefly out of visual contact. The first three agents on the scene grabbed the apparently confused dog, who bit one agent on the hand during the struggle. However, the package was gone.
On the opposite side of the alley, one of the chase cars called in a sighting of a suspicious, two-foot-tall dough creature. It waddled quickly along on two legs, cradling the package in its lumpy arms. Pedestrians screamed at the sight of the tiny Summoned and tried to get out of its way.