I found it dark, all the candles that had been lit now extinguished. I lifted my mother's pentacle and ran my will through it, causing it to pulse and then glow with silver-blue light. I lifted the pentacle over my head and surveyed the kitchen.
It was empty. There was no sign of either Mouse or Butters-and no evidence of a struggle, either. My fear subsided a little. If Kumori had found them, there would be signs of violence-blood, scattered furnishings. Butters's papers were still stacked up neatly on the kitchen table.
Murphy's house wasn't a large one, and there were only so many places Butters could be. I limped into the living room and then down the short hall to the bedrooms and the bathroom.
"Butters?" I called softly. "It's Harry. Mouse?"
There was a sudden rough scratching at the door of the linen closet beside me, and I almost jumped through the ceiling. I swallowed in an effort to force my heart back down into my chest, then opened the closet door.
Butters and Mouse crouched on the floor of the closet. Butters was at the rear, and though Mouse looked cramped, he crouched solidly between Butters and the door. His tail began to thump against the inside of the closet when he saw me, and he wriggled his way clear to come to me.
"Oh, thank God," Butters said. He squirmed out of the closet after Mouse. "Harry. Are you all right?"
"Been worse," I told him. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Um," Butters said, "I saw you out there. And then… there was something inside that ring of barbed wire. And I was… I couldn't see it very well, but then the wind kicked up and I thought I saw something moving outside and… I yelled and sort of panicked." His face flushed. "Sorry. I was just… much shorter than that thing. I panicked."
He'd rabbited. All in all, probably not a stupid reaction to the presence of an angry lord of Faerie. "Don't worry about it," I said. "Mouse stayed with you?"
"Yeah," Butters said. "I guess so. He started to try to get outside when that thing in the circle screamed. I was holding him back. I didn't realize I still had his collar when I, uh…"
Butters's face turned greenish and he said, "Excuse me." Then he sprinted for the bathroom.
I heard him throwing up inside and frowned down at Mouse.
"You know what?" I told the dog. "I don't care if Butters had been chock-full of gamma radiation and had green skin and purple pants. There's no way he could haul you into a closet with him."
Mouse looked up at me and tilted his head to one side, doggy expression enigmatic.
"But that would mean that it was the other way around. That you were the one hauling Butters to a hiding place."
Mouse's jaw dropped open into a grin.
"But that would mean that you knew you couldn't handle Kumori, and that she was dangerous to Butters. And you knew that I wanted you to protect him. And that instead of fighting or running away, you formulated a plan to hide him." I frowned. "And dogs aren't supposed to be that smart."
Mouse snorted out a little sneeze, shook his fuzzy head, and then flopped over onto his back, eyes begging me to scratch his tummy.
"What the hell," I said, and started scratching. "Looks to me like you earned it."
Butters emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later. "Sorry," he said. "Nerves. I, uh… Harry, I'm sorry I ran away like that."
"Took cover," I provided. "In the action business, when you don't want to say you ran like a mouse, you call it 'taking cover.' It's more heroic."
"Right," Butters said, flushing. "I took cover."
"It's fun, taking cover," I said. "I take cover all the time."
"What happened?" Butters asked.
"I called the Erlking, but someone kept me from keeping him penned up. They came in the house for a minute, and…" I felt my voice trail off. My relief that Butters and Mouse were all right began to fade, as I realized that they had never been what Kumori had been searching for.
"What?" Butters said quietly. "Harry, what is it?"
"Son of a bitch,'''' I swore, and my voice was a sulfurous snarl. "How could I be so stupid?"
I whirled and stalked back down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen, lifting my light.
On the kitchen table there were only empty cups of tea, empty cans, unlit candles, paper, and pens.
In the spot where Bob the skull had sat, there was nothing.
"Oh, man," Butters said quietly at my elbow. "Oh, man. They took him."
"They took him," I spat.
"Why?" Butters whispered. "Why would they do that?"
"Because Bob the skull hasn't always been mine," I growled. "He used to belong to my old teacher, Justin. And before that he belonged to the necromancer, Kemmler." I whirled in a fury and slammed my fist into Murphy's refrigerator so hard that it dented the side and split my middle knuckle open.
"I… I don't get it," Butters said, his voice very quiet.
"Bob did for Kemmler what he did for me. He was a consultant. A research assistant. A sounding board for magical theory," I said. "That's why Cowl took him."
"Cowl's doing research?" Butters asked.
"No," I spat. "Cowl knew that Bob used to be Kemmler's. Somewhere in there, Bob knows everything about the theory that Kemmler did."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that Cowl doesn't need The Word of Kemmler now. He doesn't need the stupid book to enact the Darkhallow because he's got the spirit that helped Kemmler write it." I shook my head, bitter regret a metallic taste in my mouth. "And I practically gave it to him."
Chapter Thirty-five
I gave the blood on my torn knuckle a disdainful glance, then snapped, "Get your things and hold on to Mouse. We're going."
"Going?" Butters asked.
"It isn't safe for you here now," I said. "They know about this place. I can't leave you behind."
Butters swallowed. "Where are we going?"
"They tailed me all day. I've got to make sure the people I've seen today are all right." I paused, thoughts tearing through my head. "And… I've got to find the book."
"The necromancer's book?" Butters asked. "Why?"
I got out my keys and headed for the Beetle. "Because I have no freaking clue what's supposed to be happening at this Darkhallow. The only part that I understood enough to stop was the summoning of the Erlking, and that's been blown to hell. I keep getting burned because I don't know enough about what's going on. I've got to figure out how to throw a wrench into Cowl's gears during the Darkhallow."
"Why?"
"Because the only other thing I can do is try to kick my way through a crowd of necromancers and undead and try to punch his ticket face-to-face."
"Wouldn't that work?"
"If I could pull it off," I said, and went out into the rain. "But I'm a featherweight fighting in the heavyweight division. Nose-to-nose, I think Cowl would probably kick my eldritch ass. My only real chance is to fight smart, and that means I've got to know more about what's going on. For that, I need the book."
Butters hurried after me, a couple of fingers through Mouse's collar. We got into the Beetle and I revved it up. "But we still haven't figured out those numbers," he said.
"That has to change," I said. "Now."
"Um," said Butters as I got the Beetle moving, "you can say 'now' all you want, but I still don't know."
"Could it be a combination?" I said. "Like to a safe?"