It wasn’t possible, and yet there it was.
What are the odds that he would pick the exact same name as the CFO of the Palace Hotel?
Mila couldn’t find a way to squeeze the circumstances into the word
coincidence,
so she simply folded the paper and stuck it back in her pocket, and then resealed the envelope. She had to show this to Tal. Had to talk to him right away and figure out what was going on. She was just tucking the envelope back into the box when Eunice punched in the door code. Mila looked up, smiled, and flipped the file just before Vegre’s to stand in the tall position. “Figured I’d better mark the spots where the files were.”
Eunice nodded with a look of frustration. “Good. Because we’ll probably forget before this is over—especially if people keep interrupting us. Sorry to make you keep waiting, but we’ve got to follow the procedures.”
Mila didn’t mind—even though it took another hour before they got the vault back in order and she could take her prizes back to Alan’s office to examine them further.
Unfortunately,
Alan
was in Alan’s office when she got back there. He had been a little surprised to find his station on and in Mila’s files, but wasn’t upset. Still, she couldn’t very well kick the man out of his own office and didn’t dare go back to hers. Instead, she stopped at the nearest darkened cubicle and buzzed the front desk. “Rachel? It’s Mila. Hey, Rick said I could take off after I filed the brief, so I’m going to. I’m gonna sneak out the back way—through the garage elevator, so nobody notices. But I wanted to let you know.”
“Did everything work out with the hotel?” She continued to keep her voice low, like when she’d first announced the call.
“Yep. Everything’s still on schedule. Just a misunderstanding. But I sent an e-mail confirming, just in case. Still, call my cell phone if you hear anything hinky. You’ve got the number, right?” Then she remembered she’d given the phone to Tal in case she needed to reach him.
“Will do,” Rachel replied, forcing Mila to interrupt her.
“Wait. Never mind. I just remembered I don’t have my phone with me. Call the house if you hear anything. I should be there, but in case I run out for anything at the store, I’ll call you back.”
“Okay. Got another call now. Feel better.” Then she was gone.
Now I just need to talk to Tal.
She pressed an open line and dialed her cell number. The recorded message that was spoken into her ear made her furrow her brow, part curiosity and part worry. “We’re sorry, but the mobile unit you’ve dialed has traveled outside the calling area. Please try your call again later.”
Where could he have gone? He was just supposed to be talking with another undercover O.P.A. agent who worked at the library a few miles away. Her
calling area
was a five-county range, plus even farther when driving east of the city. It was certainly possible there was a problem with the phone—being the holidays, so she went downstairs and waited in the lobby as they’d agreed. Ten minutes passed, then thirty. At two o’clock … seventy minutes after she snuck out of the office, she finally left the spot by the building directory that she’d carefully described to Tal. She hurried to the bank entrance, trying to keep an eye on the front door in case he was running late. While she hated spending the majority of the money Candy had given her to pay the mortgage, it wasn’t looking promising that Sela would paying her rent this month. And she definitely didn’t dare make a late payment on the note or they’d refuse to turn it into a mortgage and lower the interest rate after the house deed was finalized.
She tried the cell again, using the phone at the building security desk after showing her employee badge. The same message played. Then she tried Candy’s number.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded frazzled, which didn’t mean good things.
She didn’t have to introduce herself. They talked nearly every day. “Have you heard anything?”
Air rushed out of her friend in a frustrated snarl, or maybe it was just a car passed by. “Not a word. You? Did you make it to the garden okay? How’s Viktor?”
“Gone. But he got Baba, Tim, and Suzanne out before
company
arrived.” She had to be careful what she said on this phone. It was monitored. “Oh, and I’m on the phone at the guard desk downstairs, so we have to keep it short.”
They did. There was nothing to talk about anyway, since neither of them was in a place they could talk. They agreed to meet later and tell each other everything. After she hung up, she tried the cell one more time. Nothing.
Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the first of the envelopes … the one about Baba’s divorce. She was both shocked and yet not at all surprised to learn that it was Viktor Zolota who used to be married to her grandmother. So, a second marriage, and one that hadn’t ended well. Yet, they’d always remained friends. Not unheard of, but it was strange she’d never heard a whisper of it.
Another ten minutes had passed. She couldn’t afford to leave and miss Tal, in case he was following up on something important. She couldn’t afford to go back upstairs and wait or someone would give her work. The only thing she could think to do was try something she wasn’t positive was possible.
But it was her only option.
Mila got back in the garage elevator and got off on the fourth level. She unlocked her car and got inside. The cold had seeped into the car’s interior and the darkness lulled her, put her into a relaxed state.
If you can reach me, I don’t see any reason why I can’t contact you.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of chilled air and let it out slowly. In through the nose, out through the mouth—over and over until she felt a light tingling flow over her skin. She reached inside her mind and felt for the door in the darkness, the one where the light was bright and hot—fiery as a mage’s magical flame.
She stared with her inner eye at the light. She heard sounds from the other side of the brightness, but recognized them as screams and shouts of panic. Could this be where Tal was? Did he need her help? Or was she about to go to a different place, somewhere she’d never been?
There was only one way to find out. She pushed her way into the light, felt an invisible barrier stretch and then give with an inaudible
pop.
Her foot started to numb and her head pounded. Instinctively, she tried to back out, fought against going unconscious. But then the brightness faded, dimmed until it was almost dark. As the light disappeared, so did the screaming. It was cool and peaceful wherever she was, filled with soft footsteps and whispers in the distance. Mila tried to look around to figure out where she was, but she couldn’t make the head or eyes move. Still, the calm confidence and swing of limbs was familiar and some weird muscle memory part of her recognized the sensations.
Tal! Tal, can you hear me? I need to talk to you.
But there was no reaction. No recognition of her presence like after the battle with Vegre. Instead, she heard the echo of him speaking to another person. It was a hiss of words, filled with outrage and fear.
“Right here in a
public library,
Jason? Are you
insane?”
A light flicked on and Mila could finally see. Rows of bookcases surrounded her, covering every wall. There was a framed oil painting that reminded her of the Old West prints of Charles Russell—with a cowboy bulldogging a steer to the ground in a swirl of dust. The man facing Tal was slender with dark skin and closely trimmed kinky black hair. He was dressed casually in black slacks and heavy tan sweater. He crossed his arms, making the down jacket he was carrying poof up to nearly his chin. Then he rolled his eyes as though Tal’s complaint was ridiculous.
His thick Irish accent surprised her. “Oh, don’t get your knickers in such a bunch, Talos. It’s not like a human could wander through by accident. It’s fire keyed, and I’m the only mage in the city besides you. Besides, you said you didn’t care
how
you got back. Are you coming or not? I’ve only got an hour for lunch.” He motioned toward what appeared to be a fire exit with raised brows.
She felt Tal’s head shake, which was an odd sensation. “I suppose. I’ve only got a few minutes as well. I’ve got to get back downtown to meet someone.”
The way he said those words … it was warm, anticipatory, and it would have made her smile if she could have felt her lips. Jason apparently noticed the tone, too, because he raised his brows. “Found yourself a local bird, have ya? Poisoned candy, these topsiders, you know—dangerous to taste, but oh, so sweet.”
She felt his muscles twitch uncomfortably and wished she could see what he was thinking. But while he
was
thinking of her, she tried again, yelling as loud as she could with her mind this time.
Tal! Can you hear me? I have to tell you what I found out!
Again there was no response, no recognition of her.
This is futile
. Apparently she didn’t know how to make the connection work properly, and if someone came by while she was sitting in the car looking like a zombie, they’d probably call the police.
It was time to try something else. Thankfully, pulling out of Tal’s head was easier than getting in. She’d never tried to pull herself out of an episode before, but then again, she’d never been conscious during one. She already knew how to close the door in her mind, so it was just a matter of concentrating and pulling backward. Unfortunately, it was like getting unstuck from a wad of used bubble gum. Pry and release, then pry again. Eventually she managed to shake off the tendrils that tried to remain attached to her. Good thing, too—because just as she was disconnecting the last thread of consciousness in the other place, Tal followed Jason through the doorway in a swirl of amber fire that stung her head like an angry wasp.
Mila’s eyes opened abruptly. She rubbed at her temple where one vein was still twitching painfully. She realized her head had lolled against the window, and spittle was pooling on the windowsill from her open mouth. “Oh, yuck. Wasn’t
that
attractive for people wandering by?” She quickly wiped the drool away with her sleeve and started the car.
She knew where he was, so all she had to do was go there. Of course, it was a big library, but there couldn’t be
that
many cowboy prints in the place—even in Denver. She should be able to recognize it when she found it.
I hope.
I
t was the tension in the air that caught Tal’s attention most as he stepped through the illegal gate into the storeroom of the butcher shop owned by Jason’s family in Vril. Yes, he’d been warned it was bad before they activated the gate, but it was another thing entirely to hear the fading screams and smell the smoke of the riot’s aftermath.
As the amber glow faded and became a freezer door once more, Tal shook his head—both grateful and annoyed. “I can’t believe you’ve had this in place for over a
year.
Do you realize the penalties for having an illegal gate? I can barely convince myself to walk through it
once
. How could you do it a hundred times or more? Truthfully?”
Jason shrugged and took off his down jacket, despite their being able to see their breaths in the room. “Well, you must handle the overworld a lot better than me, ’cause twasn’t a hard decision. The mattress in me flat is lumpy enough to bruise and I simply can’t abide the food up there. Do you know you can’t even
buy
mutton stew in a restaurant?” He reached over to hang up the jacket on a wall hook and picked a dark burgundy cloak to replace it. That was probably a good idea. The thick, puffy jackets favored topside weren’t very common down here, so Tal likewise shed his, even though he’d be cold. Jason continued to talk as he looked around the room. “So I spend a few nights a week with me mum and da down here—have a good dinner, help Da with the shop. Who am I hurting? Not the O.P.A. Not the kings. Not even the bloke down the block.” He motioned toward the coatrack. “Go on then. Take the black one to wear. It’s Da’s, and it’s got a hood. You said you don’t want to be noticed down here if you can avoid it.”
He eyed the cloak longingly as another shiver caught him. But he wasn’t quite cold enough to deprive an elderly mage of the warmth. “Won’t he need it?”
Jason was cautiously peeking through a window set high in the stone wall into the street above. He waved back one hand. “That’s an extra. He and Mum took me advice and evacuated to Shambala days ago. That’s why you don’t see any meat hanging in here. Da decided to add his stock to my Uncle Fineas’s store there.”
Tal gratefully wrapped the thick wool around him as they walked up the stairs into the main shop, and felt heat return to his limbs. While he
could
warm the room with the remaining magic in the opal, he didn’t know what they might encounter down here. Better to conserve the magic if he could. “It’s
still
an illegal gate, though. You were risking both you and your parents going to the dungeon.”
Again Jason shook his head in bemusement. “This isn’t Rohm, Tal. Nobody
cares
about a little thing like a private gate in Vril. The way folks figure it here—if we want to use what precious little magic we get for such frivolity, we’re welcome to … but we won’t be getting any neighborly charity, either.” He motioned toward the door. “Looks like most of the looters have moved to the next street. There’s no magic left to steal around here … hasn’t been for days. It should be safe to go outside now.”
All the same, Jason slid on his battle glove, causing Tal to remove the opal from his pants pocket. He really needed a glove, but until he found his, or a replacement, he’d just have to keep a tight hold on it. But even the brief flash of it into the dim light made colored fire swirl around the room. Jason couldn’t help but notice and let out a whistle similar to Alexy’s of the previous day. “
Nice
focus. Looks old.”
“It is. But it’s only a loaner.” He shrugged as though to dismiss it, but he couldn’t help admire it, too … and admire the woman who
should
be wielding it. It was obvious Mila could craft magic, even if just basic defense. But he’d love to find out what she was capable of if properly trained.
His friend laughed and slapped his shoulder. “You’ve got that
look
again, lad. I presume it was
loaned
by the same someone you’re meeting later?”
Tal cleared his throat and decided a change of subject would be in order. He motioned toward the front door, where the leaded-glass entrance to the shop lay in crushed shards on the floor. “What exactly happened here? When did the riots start, and why?”
Jason let the subject of the focus drop after a tiny smile. But his face dropped into serious lines when he followed Tal’s hand and saw the glass. “Bleedin’ hell! That wasn’t like that yesterday. Aw, Mum will be heartbroken. That glass was specially crafted by Patrick Flannigan, the chief assistant at the local alchemists’ guild. Da saved up part of the magic ration for the better part of a year for it.” He walked to what used to be the door, then squatted down to pick up the largest piece with a look of sadness. The shard wasn’t much bigger than his palm. “The raw sand and lead had to be gated three times, all the way from Germany.”
There wasn’t really anything to say. Still, it should be acknowledged. “Sorry—”
Jason raised angry eyes and snorted before dropping the glass back to the floor. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. Sorry the bleeding kings didn’t plan things any better. How could there
not
be riots, when there’s no food, no water, and no way to get them? Arrogant sons of bitches, the lot of ’em!”
He stood in a rush and crunched across the glass out of the shop, causing Tal to throw up his hood and chase after him. Once outside, he couldn’t help but stop and stare. The Vril he’d known just a few years ago was gone. Buildings were pockmarked by sledgehammer holes, and exquisitely carved masonry littered the streets. No grass left, no flowers; pet racoons, mole rats, and snakes abandoned to roam at will. Even the illusion of blue sky now existed only in snatches and grabs across the landscape—a patchwork quilt of seemingly endless air, chewed away by the dark stone ceiling that was the reality of Agathia. Fires burned wherever there was fuel, and the stench of cesspools long past overfull burned in his nose. “How long has it been like this?”
Jason turned around and let out a deep sigh, his brown eyes filled with worry and sadness. “It’s never been this bad, but if you mean the sky, it’s been like that for months. The king’s counselors kept up the sky over the public areas as long as they could—bartering for magic at first, since we had a lot of water for trade. But since early summer when they had to evacuate the second ring and move everyone here to the city’s center, they’ve resorted to begging and borrowing from the other kingdoms. That’s about the same time the drought topside started to affect our reserves. King Kessrick hid the information as long as he could, but when the humans deepened their wells, eventually the guilds figured it out.”
Tal shook his head. Riots had happened in Rohm, too, when they evacuated the third ring. Originally, the rings had been a perfect solution to the growing cities—and emulated how the humans managed their land. The city’s center was the first ring, with roads laid out in concentric circles. The second ring just sort of happened, when the wealthy and powerful wanted private estates away from the city. But when growth continued through expanding families, they needed somewhere to go.
Up
wasn’t an option because of the cavern’s ceiling, so people moved further out. The second ring estates became suburbs and the wealthy moved again to create a third ring. It had stayed that way for centuries with the kings managing the populations to fit the space. “But of course, once the easy water was gone, the witches didn’t have the magic to pull from deeper sources, so people had to move closer once again.”
“Precisely,” agreed Jason, now speaking louder to be heard over the yelling and racous laughter of what appeared to be a gang of witch apprentices. They were amusing themselves by crafting small water spouts from questionable trickles out of a storm drain and spinning them through broken windows to soak the floors and walls. “The moat worked for a long time, keeping the lower elements, like that lot—” He twitched his thumb toward the boys, probably not into their teens, “—away from the upper class. But then they had to drain the moat for drinking water. Once that happened, most of the middle class moved away and they put up the fences to keep everybody in the first ring. But you can’t crowd a million people in an area scaled to house a quarter million, and not expect problems. Now most everyone is gone because all that’s left is food, water, and skies over those who can afford to pay—the magic nearly stolen from those who can’t afford not to sell.” He let out a frustrated breath and stepped away, turning his back on the delinquents. “Well, come on then. You wanted to see where some of the other gates are, right?”
Some of the other
. Tal was still trying to get that image firmly fixed in his mind. There should only be six gates to the overworld on the entire
planet
, but there might be double or even triple that just here in Vril … and right under the noses of the O.P.A. and the kings. “Yes, I suppose we should.”
They walked together, keeping to the shadows, which wasn’t too difficult. There was far more dark than light in the city. The only other people they encountered likewise didn’t want to be seen, so they kept a good distance away from each other. It killed Tal inside to watch people destroying the property of others, looting focus stones and clothing from homes and shops, without doing anything to stop it. Even when he noticed a woman, clearly in O.P.A. garb, taking a measure of magic into her stone in exchange for turning her head, he couldn’t intervene.
For, as Jason had told him, Alexy
had
walked back into a trap. He was in prison, no visitors allowed. Kris had been right about everything. He’d listened when Jason had checked in. Had
heard
Commander Sommersby calling for his capture … by any means necessary. That Jason trusted him enough to ignore that order—well, he couldn’t risk turning his friend in for anything he might witness today. And he couldn’t afford to make arrests for lawbreaking since he’d probably be taken away as well.
They hadn’t gone more than four blocks when they came upon a form of graffiti. The sparkling red letters were over a meter tall, and hovered in the air near a pile of trash. A pair of racoons turned black button eyes their way, but then returned to their meal of discarded root vegetable peelings and what might once have been porridge.
REPENT, FOR SHE IS COMING!
Another sign of similar style ran sideways up the side of a bakery.
DEMETER’S CHILDREN WELCOMES ALL! PRAISE BE SHE WHO WILL RESTORE MAGIC TO THE LAND!
He looked sideways to see Jason’s reaction, but if the tall dark man noticed them, he gave no sign. After they’d traveled another block and passed two more such notices, he had to ask. “Demeter’s Children?”
At last Jason acknowledged the nearest notice with a tip of his chin. “Latest in a series of cults ’round these parts. Best I can get is they worship some entity that lives in the magma, below the mantle. They claim the Trees aren’t the real source of magic, and they have exclusive access to the
true
source. Fluff and nonsense, of course, but I have to give those boys credit for bollocks. They put their magic where their rhetoric is. Look at that glitter—takes magic to spare. Not subtle, but effective. They’ve loads of members now, and not just from Vril. Da nearly joined up just to get the business back in his shop.
The Children
only deal with their own … it’s like they’re a guild, but from before the joining.”
Tal began to hear a low, droning noise that increased as it got closer. Jason elbowed him in the ribs sharply and then pulled him into the mouth of an alley. “Look, here comes a procession of Children. Looking for new recruits, I’ll wager. Stay back here with me; watch how they work.”
The group of men and women was certainly impressive to behold. Their scarlet cloaks had magical flames licking the cloth at hem and wrist, and white candles sporting multicolored fire floated at shoulder height on either side to light the way.
The chorus of voices was in perfect unison, the chanting rising and falling to where it was almost a song. “The earth is our mother. She means us no harm. Praise her and bless her and she’ll keep us warm. The earth is our mother. Her magic has served. Praise her and bless her. She’ll fill us with verve. Hail Demeter!”
Tal couldn’t help but smile.
“Verve?”
Jason likewise let out a small chuckle and shrugged. “Vim, vigor, and power, I suppose. Must keep that rhyme going, no matter the logic.” He pointed toward the trio of witches that the procession was approaching. “Watch this.”
Two members of the procession split off and walked toward the trio. They stopped what they were doing to watch, but their body language remained aggressive. The taller of the Children, a big man with pale, closely cropped hair, raised a hand in greeting. “Hail, young witches.”
The oldest boy, red haired, his face sprouting a healthy crop of freckles, sneered at the pair. “Sod off, zombie. You’ll not be suckin’ the brain out of my head to follow your freakin’ goddess.” His pals chuckled and elbowed him in approval.
Then the woman spoke. She wasn’t much older then the trio, but bore the serenity of age on her face and in her voice. “You’re so young. You should be learning your craft. But here you are … wandering the streets, not even able to call up enough water magic to wash your filthy skin.”