Lucas took the other end of the Rope as Rule lowered himself over the edge.
It would have been an easy descent if his ribs hadn’t been sore. As it was, he had no real difficulty. He simply hurt more than he liked. Arjenie sent one of the dim mage lights with him, which helped. The smell of water strengthened as he descended. Stagnant water, he decided. A pool of some sort … yes, he could see it dimly reflecting the mage light—a small pool in the center of a small rocky chamber. High ceiling, he noted with relief. Thirty feet or more.
The ground, when he reached it, was dry. That was good. Even better, his estimate for the descent was about twenty feet. Best of all, he saw light.
More accurately, he saw a patch of dimness rather than stark black at the mouth of a tunnel to his left, just where memory told him the map had shown it. He bent his attention to his ears, but didn’t hear anything. But what was that smell? Not airborne, he thought. The air remained deadly still. He crouched, lowering his face close to the ground.
Something warm-blooded had passed this way in the last week or so. Not a human, he thought, though in this form he couldn’t be sure. He straightened. Once the others were down, he’d have Sammy Change and see what he could learn. But now it was time to get them down. He tugged once on the rope.
One by one they came. No need to form a pyramid; once down, Sammy told Rule—subvocalizing—that Benedict had tied off the rope. As soon as those two were down, Rule signed smell and Change and pointed to Sammy. The young redhead had an excellent nose and could Change twice in a row without needing to rest.
A moment later, a tawny wolf stood on the empty clothes that had fallen to the ground when he blended himself into and through an unreal dimension. He shook his head once as if to clear it, then started sniffing at the ground. He took a step, then looked at Rule.
Track, Rule signed.
Sammy nodded and padded silently around the pool, nose down, heading for the dim maw of the tunnel. He paused there, looking over his shoulder.
Rule held up a hand to stop him, about to sign Change. Vertigo struck like a hammer a split second before the darkness all around swarmed in and swallowed him.
ROBERT Friar’s house was as large and unlikely as Lily remembered: two stories of wood and glass with a staggered veranda—God forbid you should call it a porch—three gables, and camera-ready landscaping. Lights were on inside, she noted as they pulled up in front, and the landscape lighting glowed discreetly, but he’d forgotten to leave the porch light on for callers.
Lily climbed out as soon as Cullen shut off the engine. Cynna’s door slammed on the other side, and Cullen climbed out on hers. As they started for the door, Lily half expected to see some of the militia types Friar had running around everywhere.
Sometimes half-assed expectations come true. A burly cliché in fatigues, complete with blond, buzz-cut hair and shoulder-slung AK-47, stepped off the porch. “Mr. Friar isn’t available right now.”
“Pity, but we’ll be going in anyway. Agent Lily Yu, Unit Twelve, FBI.” She held out her badge, and damned if he didn’t take it and study it. “I’d like to see your ID, also.”
“Looks genuine, but I’ve seen some good fakes.” He handed it back.
“You travel in interesting circles, Mr… .”
“Brewster, Calvin.” He reached in his back pocket. “I’m complying with your request for ID, Special Agent, but after that I have to ask you and your companions to leave.”
“Can’t do that.” She managed to brush his fingers as she took the driver’s license he pulled from his pocket. No tingle of magic. She handed the license to Cynna. “Jot down the number, would you?”
“Sure.” Cynna dug in her purse.
“The open gate gave you legal access to the property,” Calvin said, stony but polite. “But you have to leave when asked.”
“Not when I’ve got a search warrant.”
“I’ll need to see that.”
“Actually, you don’t. Robert Friar does. You aren’t Friar.”
“I’m responsible for the security of Mr. Friar’s place.”
“You a relative of Friar’s? A member of his household?” She shook her head. “The law’s funny, Calvin. If you’d been inside the house when we arrived, I’d have to show you the warrant. But you aren’t. I have no reason to believe you have access to the house, which means you have no right to see the warrant. Got to protect Mr. Friar’s privacy.”
His lips tightened into invisibility. He stepped back a grudging pace and pulled a phone from his shirt pocket. “Sergeant, I’ve got a situation here,” he said as Lily walked around him, with Cullen and Cynna right behind.
She rang the bell. Waited. Rang it again, adding a firm knock.
Nothing. No sound of footsteps, no television noise … “You hear anything inside?” she asked Cullen.
“Not even a mouse.”
She considered a moment. Glanced over her shoulder. Another militia guy was rounding the corner of the house, headed their way. She moved so that she blocked Cal’s view of Cullen, raising her voice slightly. “Odd that someone as security conscious as Mr. Friar would leave his front door ajar, isn’t it?”
Cullen grinned. “Damn weird, if you ask me.”
Cynna nodded. “Makes me think something’s wrong. We should check.”
Calvin spoke sharply. “That door’s closed and locked.”
“Was it closed earlier?” She turned to look at him. “Because it isn’t now. Is Mr. Friar in the habit of leaving his front door ajar?”
“It’s not—”
“Sure it is,” Cynna said. “See?” She gave the door a shove and it swung open.
And that was another reason Lily had wanted Cullen along. He was very good with locks. “Looks like you’re wrong, Calvin.”
“I’m going in with you.” He started toward her.
“Nope.” She moved to block him, giving Cullen and Cynna a chance to go in. “Same deal. Not a relative, not a member of the household, so you stay out here.”
“I’m going in with you.”
She cocked her head. “Those allergies give you a lot of trouble?”
“What the hell are you—”
“Gesundheit,” Cullen said, pointing at him.
Calvin sneezed. Sneezed again, and again—a paroxysm of sneezes that left him bent over.
It was Cullen’s newest trick, one he was quite proud of. He and Cynna had cooked up the spell together, but she had trouble executing it—something to do with the difference between runic charms and spoken spells. Lily grinned and slipped inside, locking the door behind her.
Her grin slid away. She listened a moment, then called out, “Mr. Friar? Special Agent Lily Yu here. I have a warrant to search your house and physically connected structures.”
No answer. She looked at Cullen. He shook his head. “Can’t hear a thing. Either he’s playing hide-and-seek, or he isn’t here. If he isn’t here, I bet I know where he is.”
So did she. Belowground someplace, either in his tunnel or at the node. Where Rule was headed. “Cynna?”
“Ready, set, go,” the taller woman said, and shook out her arms. “I warned you this could take awhile. If he’s warded the entrance to the tunnel, it’ll be hard for me to Find.”
“Understood.” Maybe Rule would be knocking on the other side of the tunnel’s entry before they found it. Maybe not. Either way, they had the best Finder on the planet looking for it. And while Cynna hunted her way, she and Cullen could try more common methods. Hands and eyes. “Let’s get started.”
THE moon was half full. Plenty of light for lupus eyes on a clear night, enough to see the looming wooden ghosts of the mining operation that had died here over twenty years ago. Also the vehicles pulled up in the dusty yard in front of what had once been the office. And the men gathered to one side of the vehicles, near a fire pit complete with a small blaze.