Boo-Boo grinned engagingly. "Y'all got one of them, too?"
"Don't we all?" Liz asked, smiling back.
She found in spite of her earlier misgivings she was beginning to like this American. No matter how unconventional his approach, nor that he looked like a bag of rags, he was a good investigator and an effective agent. She was convinced he was right. Nothing more here than an accident, and accumulated paranoia of a spoiled rich girl with powerful connections. Liz had no idea what would account for the Irish agent's difficulty. Possibly he had been drugged by someone who recognized him as MI-5. There were more strange chemicals floating around in the underworld than even most of the department was permitted to know. There'd be grumbling in Whitehall about her spending thousands of pounds to fly here to investigate, but at least Lord Kendale would be happy.
The music rose toward a crescendo. On the stage Fionna stood in her place under the lights, trembling. Her hands had fallen to her sides, but they were slowly lifting with the music. Michael Scott stood behind her, back bowed as he tore the notes out of his guitar. Liz enjoyed the rich psychic waves this song put out. It felt as though power was rising through her. She stood almost on tiptoe waiting for Fionna to shout out the last line, when the music would crash around her like waves against a cliff.
And then, Liz felt it. Or smelled it. Or just knew, in that way her grandmother always told her she would. There was evil here. Powerful evil. But where was it coming from?
"Do you feel that?" she started to ask Boo. Suddenly, there was a flash of light on the screens. Fionna let out a shriek of agony, throwing her arms up against the blaze.
Liz wasn't prepared for another attack so soon, but her training kicked in without hesitation. Never mind where the fire had come from, put it out! Liz summoned up every erg of magic she had, down to the reserves, and threw it through the glass at Fionna with both hands in a smothering spell that would have extinguished a house fire. The force of the spell knocked all the wind out of her for a moment. She staggered backward, staring. The huge pane of glass seemed to shiver and sing dangerously, threatening to break. The little figures on the stage swayed and ran towards one another. She had no time to consider the consequences when she was flung to the floor by a blast that came from Boo's direction.
"Clear!" he yelled, too late. Automatically, the analyzing part of Liz's brain recognized the effect as a containment field to suppress any other occult activity in the area. Liz was impressed. She didn't know the Americans had been working on anything so sophisticated. Boo glanced over at her. "Seems like we were wrong."
Liz scrambled to her feet and made for the door, the American half a step behind her.
"Rapid deployment, eh?" she asked, as they ran down the stairs toward the stage.
"Finest kind," Boo said.
"If you'd thrown that thing one second sooner you'd have blotted out my spell!"
"I saw what you was doin', ma'am," Boo said, peevishly. "I waited. Now, let's see what happened."
Liz shoved her way through the crowd of people that had gathered on the stage. The fire alarm was blaring overhead. Nigel Peters's voice cut through the noise.
"Someone shut that blasted thing off!" he raged. "We don't want everyone down on us again!"
At the center of the mob, Fionna had sunk into a heap on the floor. Lloyd huddled over her, frantically trying to bring her around. Nothing seemed to be wrong with Fionna apart from red, angry skin on her bare arms.
"A hell of a lot of help you were," Lloyd snarled at Liz.
All Fionna could say over and over as they bandaged her arms was, "Now you'll believe me."
And Liz had no choice. The stink of malignity rose from her skin like cheap perfume.
"You say the hair on her arms caught fire?" Liz asked, wondering if she had heard incorrectly. "Not the sleeves?"
"That's it," Laura Manning said, examining the skin carefully. "There were no sleeves. Left her smooth as a baby's bottom, apart from the burns, that is. Shh, honey. I've got some cream downstairs."
"We can't have any more delays," Patrick Jones cried, pacing up and down. "My God, if the reporters get hold of this. I'll kill myself."
"Oh, that'd be good press," Eddie Vincent growled. Nigel Peters tore his thinning hair.
Liz focused immediately on finding the source of the power. "Did anyone see where the fire came from?" she asked, but every face in the circle was blank. To them it was just another freak accident, one of many. Only Liz had felt the anger and hatred fill the arena just before the attack. It was fading quickly. They would have to work fast to find the source.
"It's symbolic that the fire was centered on Fionna's sleeves," she said under her breath to Boo-Boo, who knelt beside her near Fionna. "She didn't have any in this dress, but that's what everyone was talking about just before the blaze. That meant the energy had to have come from somewhere in here."
"How many people could hear the stage manager?" Boo asked. "Let's ask everyone again, one at a time. I can do that. I'll bring them back to what they were thinkin' of at the last moment before it happened."
"No, that's a waste of time," Liz said sharply. Fionna's eyes fluttered, and she sat up. Lloyd immediately pushed the agents away and cradled his girlfriend in his arms. "We have to examine the site at once, before the influence dissipates."
"I think," Boo said, in a low tone, "you're forgetting that this is my turf. You're my guest. I'm in charge here."
"Not this again," Liz hissed. "We asked for your help. It's my case."
"It's our country," Boo said loudly, his eyes glowing with the light of battle. "You can't operate here without our permission. You might as well pack it up and go home."
"Never! My government will never take a back seat to yours!"
"We tossed you out once. We can do it again!"
"Knock it off or leave!" Lloyd shouted. "Look at her. She's hurt! Let's go downstairs, love."
Liz looked down at Fionna, who was holding onto the bodyguard like a drowning swimmer to a float. She was ashamed of herself. It was the second time that day she'd caught herself behaving in a nonprofessional manner. Two black marks, Miss Mayfield, she thought, shaking her head. Lloyd helped Fionna to her feet. Fionna tottered toward the stairs to her dressing room, with Lloyd and Laura Manning in attendance. The crowd parted to let them pass. Liz and Boo-Boo followed behind.
"We've got to work together on this," Liz said, after a moment. The tension in Boo-Boo's shoulders relaxed. She knew the two of them were thinking the same things. Here was a case where she could produce proof of an actual magical attack. If they solved the mystery this could spell credibility for their departments, assuring the budget for next year, not to mention putting Lord Kendale in their debt. It would put the Department and OOPSI into the headlines. Horrified, Liz stopped her flight of fancy. If this made the headlines the furor would never die down. The general public was not ready. They already suspected the government of prying into their everyday affairs. If they knew about the departments devoted to the paranormal, there would be open rioting out of naked fear.
Boo-Boo was thinking the same thing. "We've got to solve this and keep it quiet," he said, guardedly. "Miss Fionna needs us, ma'am. Both of us."
"It won't be easy," Liz said. "To say we have different styles is an absolute understatement, but I'll try if you will."
"It's a deal," Boo-Boo said, holding out his hand for hers. They shook on it.
"The first thing to do is talk to our crime victim," Liz said, briskly.
Instead of occupying her grand throne, Fionna was curled in Lloyd's arms on the couch at the side of her dressing room. She had her knees drawn up protectively, like a little girl.