He pushed on the chair, and it swung around slowly, revealing the body of the late Fizziwig, dressed in dark suit and smoking jacket, thin white hair all tousled, with a surprised expression on his still, dead face. He'd been a spry old man from the look of him, and there wasn't a mark on him aside from his surprised expression.
A door shut with great authority. Bailey moved into the room, her face angry. “That does it.” She gestured furiously. “We know it's the Dark Hand, this whole place reeks of their Magick.”
“We don't know that they killed him.”
Trent pointed out, “We know that they were here, and he's not alive.”
Jason unclenched his left hand slowly. He looked at the two of them, first Trent, then Bailey. “We don't know what happened here. We don't even know what he thought it was important to tell me.”
Trent slowly pivoted in a circle, surveying all the bookshelves built into the library walls and running from floor to ceiling on three sides, leaving only the massive fireplace and a few paintings on the fourth wall. He touched a shelf, a massive book whose spine read
Ars Magica and Secularus.
His fingers tingled, and he drew his hand back hastily. “If it's a book, we've got a long search.”
“I don't intend to stay in here with a dead man long enough to look. We have to tell the elders and the authorities.” Jason shifted uneasily. “We should have contacted Gavan and the others before coming.”
“That's great. Not only am I out later than I should be, but I found a body.” Bailey wrinkled her nose.
“We found it,” Trent corrected her. “Normally, I'd vote for calling 911, but . . . this time . . . I think maybe we should get hold of an elder.”
Jason nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
Bailey lifted her chin defiantly. “We've got to tell the others, warn everyone . . . and then get ready. It's us against them now, and they've given us no choice. Opposites attack.”
27
THE DARK HAND CLOSES
“T
HE first thing we do,” Tomaz said calmly, “is get you kids out of here. Then I call in Dr. Patel to get the body. We take care of our own, and no stranger will touch Fizziwig.” He frowned, his weathered face showing deeply etched lines. “None of you should be here. What happened?”
“Fizziwig sent me a message.” Jason tapped his crystal. “I thought it was important, so we came.”
“You knew he was a Magicker?”
“Yes, I remembered the name.” Jason shifted. “We wouldn't have come otherwise, Tomaz, but he etched a message inside my crystal. I've never heard of anything like that before, and it seemed important. I never thought . . . I never thought I'd find him like this.” Jason gestured helplessly. “Look, we know it's dangerous now.”
“Dangerous is not a strong enough word for it, and I don't want to have to be rescuing any of you from situations you shouldn't have been in, in the first place. Do I make myself clear?”
“We'll be careful!” Bailey promised.
“Good.” He dropped a hand on Jason's shoulder, and squeezed slightly. “Brennard's searching for you. We cannot be sure why, but we assume it's because the handful of you seem to be the most Talented. The others are scattered to the four winds, unaware and untapped, and they'll stay that way till we have an academy to offer them safety, but you . . . all of you are at great risk. It comes with great ability.” Bailey flushed, pleased, but Tomaz barely paused in his speech. “That confers extra responsibility on you. We expect many things of you. Don't disappoint us.”
Jason felt the failure of Camp Ravenwyng, like a heavy burden on him. “We won't,” answered Jason, with Bailey and Trent echoing him faintly.
“Good.” Tomaz took a deep breath and without any of them even blinking, they were
gone,
swept away with him.
A blink of nothingness and then all stood in Gavan Rainwater's office at Camp Ravenwyng, stopping the Magicker in mid-pace, electric lights flaring in the room, and his dark cloak swirling about him. He pivoted on one heel. “Tomaz! Got them all, have you?”
Crowfeather nodded, and released his grip on Jason's shoulder. “They will tell you the tale. I have to take Anita back.”
“It's true, then?” Sadness veiled Gavan's face. “You found Fizziwig?”
Tomaz nodded.
Gavan sighed before gesturing. “Better hurry, then. I don't know what the Dark Hand will make of these circumstances, but let's not give them a chance.”
“It will be done.” Tomaz was there, and then he was not.
“Whoa.” Bailey let out her breath. “I'd like to be able to do that! He's fast . . . I have to think and think . . . it's like the hare and the snail.”
Trent blinked. “You meant the tortoise and the hare.”
She looked at him. “I meant what I said!” She gave an offended sniff.
Gavan smiled slightly and perched on the corner of his great desk, looking at them all. “Teleporting comes with focus and knowing exactly where you're going. The more certainty, the quicker you come and go.” The beacon crystal sat on a filing cabinet in the corner, its clear crystalline facets sparkling in the light. “Practice, Bailey, practice.” He rubbed his palm over the pewter wolfhead of his cane. “Are you all right? All of you?”
“That,” Trent told him, “was my first dead guy.”
Gavan winced. “We had no way of knowing, but we would have spared you all that if we could. I had hoped beyond hoping that Fizziwig was all right, just buried in some research of his own.” He coughed. “Perhaps buried is a bad choice of words?”
Jason laughed nervously.
“It's okay. He didn't look bad or anything. Just very, very still. I mean, for a minute or two, we all wondered if he was a dummy or something.” Bailey put her hand over her pocket, stilling her pet for a moment. “He was in a library, a huge one.”
“Tell me what happened then,” the Magicker said, and stood back as the flood of words began, prompted now and then by a question from him, until all three finally grew quiet as the last words spilled out of them and faded away.
Gavan shook his head. “To lose him, and to have you find him, is a double tragedy for us. I have to ask you to not say anything to anyone, which makes it harder. But if it bothers you at all, I want you to contact one of us, to talk, all right?”
“I'm okay with it,” Trent said. Jason and Bailey quickly agreed.
Gavan nodded several times then, as if considering. “I hear there have been wolfjackals about on other occasions, as well. And Dark Hand.”
“They're stalking,” Jason told him. “I don't like it.”
“They are getting more aggressive,” Gavan agreed. “I'm not sure what we can do about it. The beacon doesn't always work. They may have found a way to circumvent us or . . .” His words trailed off. He thumped his cane on the floor smartly. “Be that as it may, it only points out the need to keep you safe. We need the Academy, a Haven where the blink of your mind can bring you to safety and give you the opportunity to learn all you need to know, but it also means we may have to reveal ourselves. I am finding much opposition. I'm bringing the Council together again in a few days. I'll gather you up then, so be prepared.”
“A war council!” Bailey glowed at the thought, her cheeks apple red and her ponytail bouncing.
“Well . . . not exactly.”
“I'm with Bailey, sir. I think we need to start hitting back.” Trent ran a hand through his curly hair.
“We've already been through a war,” said Gavan quietly. “We know the devastation, and that there can be no winners.”
“They're counting on that! They're counting on no one fighting back! Can't you see?”
Gavan looked sadly at Bailey. “You have to trust us, lass. You have to trust that we know what we're doing.”
She looked down at her sneakers and squeaked. Or, that is, Lacey squeaked, even though it sounded like it was coming from Bailey. She put her hand over her pocket flap.
“Any other complaints?”
No one answered.
He stood. “Away with you, then.” He passed his palm over the wolfhead and first Trent disappeared, and then Bailey. Gavan aimed his brilliant blue-eyed gaze at Jason, hesitating. “You seem troubled. You're not ready to do battle?”
“There are things that could be better.” Jason shoved his hands stubbornly in his pockets, as reluctant to be analyzed by Gavan as by Statler Finch. “I can handle it.” He touched crystal with both hands in his jeans pockets and remembered what he'd almost forgotten.
“Of course you can. We will be asking even more of you soon.” Gavan started to move his palm over his cane.
“Wait! Wait . . . there is . . . something.” The weight of the second crystal reminded him, and he drew it out. “I wanted to ask about the crystals, and the bonding . . .”
“You've got a second? Already? Astounding. Where did you find it?” Gavan stepped to his side, and extended his hand, over but not touching the gemstone in Jason's palm. Its pale lavender hue shone in the office light. Fire glittered as Jason turned it, showing Gavan all its facets. “Incredible. It is a beautiful stone, my lad.”
“But you can bond to more than one, right?”
“Of course, we all have and do. Sometimes a crystal fractures under stress, or burns out, and we have to replace it. Occasionally they get lost, or even stolen. Most of us have several favorites we keep on us or near us at all times. Did you worry?”
“A little.”
“I won't say it's usual to get another Bond so early in your training, it's not. It can be difficult to learn your crystal, and it requires study and focus. Now your attention must be split, between this one and the other. However . . .” And Gavan looked keenly into his face. “These things are not coincidental.”
“What?”
“I mean it happens for a purpose. That rock was meant to come to you, or it wouldn't have.” Gavan reached out and closed Jason's fingers over it.
“No one will take it away?”
“No. Why would you think they might?”
Jason felt a keen reluctance about telling Rainwater where he'd found the crystal, and why. He just shook his head.
“None of us will. Let me put it that way.” Gavan opened his hands, and then cradled them about his pewter wolfhead. “Look at this crystal closely, and tell me what you see.”
Jason leaned over to look at the gemstone held in the wolf's jaws. It was brilliant, he'd noticed that the first time he and the Magicker met, but more than its diamondlike quality, he'd never really been able to see. He narrowed his eyes to look into the great, uncut gem. “It
is
a diamond,” he said finally, without tearing his gaze away.
“Of a sort. It's called a Herkimer diamond, and it came from these shores to my home in England not long after the colonies were first established.” Gavan scratched at his jaw absently. “It's quite flawed at the heart, if you can see it in the light. I was advised by many not to take this stone and make a focus of it as it would never allow a Bonding.”
Jason peered closer. “It's like . . . it looks like a teardrop or something inside.”
“Precisely. Not a teardrop, actually, but water, yes. Trapped within the heart of the gem. A bit of life, if you would, in stone.”
“How did that happen?”
Gavan smiled then, and shrugged. “I am no creator, I've no idea. As the minerals came under intense heat and pressure, this bit of water became trapped and so it stayed. And it may make the stone very fragile and subject to shattering, but it's held for me. We've been through a lot, we have.”
Jason straightened up. “The Bonding is really important, then, and personal.”
“Yes, it is. As we learn our crystals, we learn ourselves. It's not the only important thing, but it can prove crucial. You'll have to split your studies between them. I'll consult with Eleanora. Perhaps she or Aunt Freyah can work with you on it.”
Sharp-eyed Freyah might not be pleased at all when she heard where he'd found it, Jason thought. On the other hand, Gavan's disclosure had revealed a lot. It
had
come to him, even under unusual circumstances. He put the lavender stone back in his pocket. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Any more surprises about you?” Sudden humor twinkled in those startling blue eyes.
“I hope not.” Jason smothered a sigh, and Gavan laughed.
“The weight of the world is a heavy one, hey, my young Atlas? Just remember that you're not the only one holding it up. We're all here with you.” Gavan made a face. “Come to think of it . . . it is heavy!”
Jason couldn't help laughing. He took a deep breath. It would be later than it should be, and he hoped there'd be no trouble getting his and Trent's ride home, but compared to other problems, it seemed a minor one. “I'd better go now.”
“No sooner spoken, than gone.” Gavan whispered in his ear, and then he was back in the mall. Lingering in his mind was the whisper:
And someday soon you'll have to tell me where you found that crystal, lad.
Jason felt his face flush.
A few shoppers brushed past him. He looked around and saw that Trent and Bailey were both gone. He checked the large clock by the information booth and was relieved that not nearly as much time had gone as he'd feared but he was late. He called McIntire for a ride home. His stepfather did not say much till they were halfway home, then he commented, “It's a little later than we planned, Jason.”
“Sorry. We had so much to talk about.”