Science and Sorcery (26 page)

Calvin rolled his eyes.  To hear Harrow talk, everyone in her era had lived like one of the heroes from
Atlas Shrugged
, men and women who had been able to do anything and everything they might have wanted to do.  Calvin had read it at fourteen and while he found the idea of being pushed down by society to be familiar, it hadn't taken him long to spot the logical flaw in the book’s argument.  If everyone was a Great Mind, able to declaim for hours on philosophy and design the next great invention, who did the cooking, cleaning and – for that matter – production?  Every great inventor stood on two sets of shoulders; the shoulders of the inventors who had come before him and the shoulders of the men who looked after him while he worked. 

“She’s still a frigging teacher,” he said, carefully forming the words in his mind.  “When can we hope to go after her?  We will be exposed.”

You are not thinking
, Harrow said. 
You are already exposed
.

“I don’t understand,” Calvin said, finally.  He'd covered himself, hadn't he?  The fact that the NYPD hadn't broken down his door and arrested him proved that they hadn't connected him with any of the murders, let alone Marie’s rape.  “How am I exposed?”

Harrow’s laughter echoed in his mind. 
She is not just a person who is charging herself with mana, but a magician who has already learned control
, she said. 
Do you understand that her arrival is no coincidence?  Someone has connected the four victims – six, if you count your little jest on the sporting fields – and drawn the right conclusion.  The net is already tightening on you.

Calvin opened his mouth to argue, but Harrow overrode him. 
Your shields appear to have held, but you will slip, sooner or later, and then they will have you.  Right now, you are far better trained than anyone learning completely from scratch, yet that will change.  You knew you would have to run soon.

“Right,” Calvin said.  How the hell had he fallen so far?  “Why don’t I just run now?”

Because this is an opportunity to remove one of the magicians opposing us as well as making a second sacrifice
, Harrow said. 
Because if you run now, they will not need to catch you in the act to know that it was you.  Because right now your only hope is freeing me, so that I may begin building the brave new world.  Or you can die.  They will not let you live.  They would never have let you live.

Calvin had watched Senator Whitehall on television.  The man had demanded the death penalty for vampires, aided by a leaked report that had warned that it was unlikely that vampires could ever be reasoned with or rehabilitated, and for werewolves to be permanently confined in cages.  Unsurprisingly; the recent full moon had seen nearly a hundred deaths, all seemingly innocent civilians.  And he wanted magicians to be very strictly controlled...

It was funny, in a sad way.  He’d planned to leave home eventually, perhaps go to college in a different state, but not like this.  But, as he walked to the next class, he realised that the decision had already been made.  Miss Reynolds was going to die.

***

Misty sat at Miss Hoover’s desk, mulling over her impressions in her mind.  Magic sensitivity wasn't telepathy, unfortunately; whatever the ethical implications of telepathy, it might have allowed her to sort out the murderer from the innocents.  She'd picked up all sorts of impressions, but most of them seemed to be flickers running through the background
mana
rather than tremors caused by a magician. 

The class had been...strange.  Certainly, every class contained its share of enthusiastic children and ones who really couldn't be bothered, whose mere presence dragged the rest of the kids down.  If the law allowed them to separate kids by ability, it might have been much easier to teach the entire school...

She pushed the thought aside – it was an old frustration, one born of actually
caring
about the kids she was supposed to teach – and concentrated on her impressions.  Some had been shocked, suffering from stress; she’d heard that psychiatrists in New York were actually being overworked after the events of the last month.  Chances were that some of them genuinely needed help and they weren't going to get it.  Other kids had been boisterous, as if they had been trying to convince themselves that nothing was wrong.  And some had just withdrawn into themselves and stayed there.

Poor kids
, she thought, sadly. 

She keyed the hidden microphone built into the pin she wore on her jacket.  “Nothing so far,” she reported.  The whole idea of carrying about a permanently open mike still sounded weird to her, and she really wasn't looking forward to going to the toilet.  “Just a faint sense of doom.  I’ll keep my eyes open.”

And then it was time for her next class.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Washington DC, USA

Day 31

“Why don’t you just test everyone in the school for magic?”

“Because that would be illegal,” Caitlyn said, patiently.  For someone who was supposed to be in charge, she seemed to have very little actual authority.  “And because we don’t have any real proof, just suspicions.”

Golem suspected a human would have punched a wall in frustration at this point.  “Are you aware,” he said, “that the most evil sorcerers in all of history are just waiting to be released from their confinement?  Or that one of them has already got her hooks into some poor damned fool who is helpless to resist her manipulations?”

He’d tried to explain the implications to Caitlyn and the other researchers, but they hadn’t listened.  Or, rather, they hadn't understood.  A full-fledged sorcerer would be a difficult opponent even for someone of Enchanter’s calibre; the modern world would be almost defenceless against him once the
mana
level rose to the point where he could use some really destructive spells.  And Golem was aware of his own limitations as a teacher.  A human sorcerer from his own time would find it much easier to train an apprentice – and, at the same time, corrupt him to the point where he wouldn't know right from wrong. 

“Right now,” he added, “he has killed at least one person to boost his
mana
.  A few more murders and he’ll have the power to break the Queen of Nightmares out of her prison.  And then you’ll have to deal with her, somehow, before she breaks the rest of her comrades out of the prison, or starts taking over the world herself.”

Caitlyn didn't understand, he realised.  The modern world didn't seem to think much of personal power, at least in countries governed by the rule of law.  Even a man with a gun couldn't do
that
much damage before he was stopped, even if it was more damage than a swordsman could have done in his wet dreams.  But a sorcerer, armed with the knowledge to use
mana
properly, could dominate – or destroy – an entire city.  The wards he’d been teaching his students couldn't hope to protect
all
of the possible targets.   They could barely hope to extend over some of the most important buildings in the country. 

“Even if we’re wrong,” he said, “and he has no intention of breaking the Thirteen out of their prison, he’s still going to be a great deal more powerful than anyone else.”

“Because he has an additional supply of
mana
to draw on,” Caitlyn said. 

“Yes,” Golem answered, flatly.

The human race never ceased to confuse him.  There had been nine murders following the discovery of the ritual murder in New York, all what the humans called copy-cat crimes.  The only thing that had kept Golem from panic, or at least the closest he could come to outright panic, had been the discovery that none of the symbols or runes carved onto the other murder victims were actually magical, let alone anything to do with the Thirteen.  He knew he should be grateful – ten victims meant enough magical power to teleport, as well as breaking through wards and human transfiguration – but he just wanted to deal with Harrow’s ally before it was too late.  And prepare the new magicians for their first real test.

“I believe that I should go to New York,” Golem said, after a moment.  “Matt will require my assistance in executing the rogue sorcerer.”

Caitlyn frowned.  “We are
trying
to take him alive...”

“And that may be impossible,” Golem said.  “You had problems confining werewolves.  What makes you think that you can confine a sorcerer?”

They hadn’t really believed Golem’s warnings about the strength of a werewolf.  Their formidable strength was boosted by their regeneration abilities, allowing them to damage themselves in their struggles to break out of confinement.  In hindsight, iron bars – iron helped to dampen some forms of magic – simply hadn't been strong enough to hold the creatures.  They’d been very lucky that only
one
werewolf had managed to break free, only to be shot down moments later.  A team of swordsmen would have been nothing more than werewolf food. 

A sorcerer could be incredibly difficult to keep prisoner, particularly if they managed to store enough
mana
before being captured.  He could manipulate his guards, open locks...or simply blow his way out of the prison.  The only real solution was to force him to drain his power, which was incredibly difficult even for a first-rank sorcerer, of which they had none.  Any of the Thirteen could have done it, but the Thirteen were on the wrong side. 

“Very well,” Caitlyn said, finally.  “You may go to New York.”

Golem didn’t smile as he lumbered out of her office and back towards the rooms he’d been given, barely aware of the two Navy SEALs following him at a distance.  No one had ever shown him the consideration of giving him a set of rooms, even though he didn't really need them.  He needed no sleep, nor did he have to eat or drink; he could and did keep lecturing students all day, if necessary.  Most of them would never have become true sorcerers in his time – they just didn't have the complex set of talents that made up a sorcerer – but some of them had potential.  And no one had ever considered the advantages of trying to teach several dozen students at once.

Enchanter had been an apprentice before graduating – and he’d taken on four other apprentices in his time.  Tradition said, quite firmly, that one master was to teach one student at a time, just to ensure that the master could give his sole student undivided attention.  What would be harmless when studying a mundane subject could be disastrous when magic was involved.  But
Golem
had nearly thirty students and they were practicing, sharing notes, with or without his approval.  Some of them had improved when their peers had helped to put old concepts into modern words.  A handful were even on the verge of becoming research wizards in their own right.

And where exactly would
that
lead them?

Golem had told precisely one untruth to his new allies, one that Enchanter had bound him never to reveal to another living soul.  He
did
know the true nature of the prison Enchanter had devised for the Thirteen, and the underlying secret that Enchanter had never shared with the rest of the sorcerers in his world.  Very few sorcerers understood
mana
as thoroughly as Enchanter.  It was quite possible that Enchanter was the only one who had ever
truly
understood it. 

The modern world was ignorant about magic, but that hadn't stopped their storytellers from coming up with all sorts of concepts, so many of them that they had to get some of them right.  Their combined imagination was far greater than anything Enchanter had ever enjoyed, or even the Thirteen themselves. 
Mana
had been part of Enchanter’s world; few had questioned its presence on any fundamental level, just as a modern scientist might ignore the law of gravity.  But they were poking and prodding at
mana
, because it was something new to them, and they were likely to uncover the truth.

And then?

Golem didn't know, but he doubted that it would be anything good.

A human would have shaken his head.  Instead, Golem returned to his rooms, picked up the small bag of tools he’d painstakingly made, and then headed for the helipad.  The sooner he was in New York, the better.

***

“...Two hunters in Alaska saw a large flying creature and took a shot at it,” the newsreader said, as Caitlyn switched to CNN.  “The creature was hit and fell out of the sky.  When they reached the body, they discovered a small dragon-like creature that was previously unidentified.”

Caitlyn sucked in her breath as the camera panned across the creature’s body.  The dragon – if it was a dragon, as Golem had said that most dragons were the size of jumbo jets – was tiny, barely larger than a man.  Indeed, looking at the body, Caitlyn found herself wondering if it was some kind of were-dragon, a human who could transform into dragon-form at will.  If one looked at it just right, one could just imagine that the rear set of claws were actually human feet...

“The Alaskan Department of Fish and Game condemned the hunters who shot the creature on the grounds that they killed a member of an endangered species,” the newsreader continued.  “However, it seems unlikely that charges can be brought against them, as dragons were not included on the endangered species list prior to their actual discovery.  A team of wildlife experts from the department are believed to be preparing to search the area for additional dragons.  In the meantime, the Department has issued a strong recommendation that wildlife hunters avoid the area, as the dragons may be dangerous.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes.  Barely a month ago, everyone would have been checking the date on the report, convinced that it was April 1
st
.  Now...it seemed almost mundane compared to the other reports filtering through the internet and even the mainstream media.  There were haunted houses, strange lights seen near places of power...and even weirder reports, coming out of the less developed parts of the world. 
Something
had happened in the Urals, in Russia, but the Russian government wasn't talking.  All of the expensive spying systems the United States had produced could only tell them that there had been a high-energy discharge and now thousands of people were fleeing the area. 

“...In other news,” the newsreader said, with the faint tone of someone who barely scraped past her SAN role, “lawyers representing JK Rowling began the process of suing Roy Scranton, who changed his name to Professor Dumbledore and set himself up as a teacher of witchcraft and wizardry.  Professor Dumbledore claimed that it was nothing more than harassment and threatened to turn the lawyers into snakes, or toads, if they ever showed themselves near his school.”

And a great improvement it would be
, Caitlyn thought, as she clicked off the television and looked back at her notes.  ‘Professor Dumbledore’ had actually been running his school long before the
mana
started to leech back into the mundane world, allowing him a chance to claim that he and his students had summoned the magic so that everyone could be magical.  The Mage Force had looked into his claims and decided that they were probably baseless; his magic spells were nothing like the spells they’d learned from Golem and besides, he didn't seem to have produced any real magicians.  His entire school, the FBI report had concluded, was designed to separate idiots from their money, even if he
did
seem to take it seriously. 

She picked up the next report, looked down at it, and then shook her head.  All she seemed to do was read reports these days.  Instead, she stood up and headed for the werewolf confinement facility.  Joe Buckley had requested an interview, according to one of the researchers, and it was the least she could do.  The werewolves were going to have even more cramped quarters in future. 

Joe Buckley was sitting on his bed when Caitlyn walked into the confinement chamber.  In theory, he wasn't actually dangerous – or contagious – when the full moon wasn't overhead, but no one felt like taking chances.  Two of the werewolves seemed to have been reduced to savage animals even without the full moon, or the transformation into a monster.  Caitlyn had heard two of the female researchers joking that savagery was the normal state of human males, but the joke wasn't particularly funny.  What would happen if other werewolves, out in the wild, started to carry wolfish traits back into their human lives?

“I remembered the transformation,” Buckley said, once he’d waved to her.  It didn't take a detective to see the strange mixture of emotions on his face, or the fact that he looked alarmingly malnourished.  And to think he’d been incredibly healthy when he’d been bitten at Fort Hood.  “I actually had some control.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, up to the silver mesh covering the bars.  “What did you feel like?”

“It’s difficult to put into words,” Buckley admitted.  “I felt calm and in control, but I also felt permanently on edge, as if a single word out of place would set me off like a grenade.  And there was a violent deluge of information from my senses.  I know that Jenny and Terrence over there are having it off when they’re not actually researching, because they
stink
of each other.”

Caitlyn glanced behind her.  The two researchers were blushing and trying to look anywhere, but at each other.  She found herself trying not to laugh.  As long as they didn't let their relationship get in the way of their work, she wasn't about to order them to stop seeing each other.  Besides, given that she had been spending her nights with Matt, it would be more than a little hypocritical.