“This is not a devout household. It’d be hypocrisy, and therefore useless, for us to keep religious symbols around that we don’t love. Besides, in spite of previous experience with a demon or two, we didn’t expect one to invade a middle-class suburban home. No authenticated case of that was on record. So the final possible barrier to his appearance was absent.
“He had only a few pounds of mass available to him. Any human who kept his or her head could have coped with him—if nothing else, kept him on the run, too busy to do his dirty work, while phoning for an exorcist. But on this one night, no human was here. Svartalf can’t talk, and he obviously never got the chance to call in help by different means. He may have outweighed the demon, but not by enough to prevail against a thing all teeth, claws, spines, and armor plate. In the end, when Svartalf lay beaten, the demon took our Val to the Low Continuum. The counter-transferred mass was necessarily in her form.
“Am I right?”
Shining Knife nodded. “I expect you are.”
“What do you plan to do about it?”
“Frankly, at the moment there’s little or nothing we can do. We haven’t so much as a clue to motive.”
“You’ve been told about last night. We made bad enemies. I’m inclined to take at face value the Johnnies’ claim that their adepts have secret knowledge. Esotericism has always been associated more with the Low than the High. I’d say their cathedral is the place to start investigating.”
Behind his mask of paint, Shining Knife registered unhappiness. “I explained to you before, Mrs. Matuchek, when we first inquired who might be responsible, that’s an extremely serious charge to make on no genuine evidence. The public situation is delicately balanced. Who realizes that better than you? We can t afford fresh riots. Besides, more to the point, this invasion could be the start of something far bigger, far worse than a kidnapping.”
I stirred. “Nothing’s worse,” I mumbled.
He ignored me, sensing that at present Ginny was more formidable. “We know practically zero about the hell universe. I’ll stretch a point of security, because I suspect you’ve figured the truth out already on the basis of unclassified information; quite a few civilian wizards have. The Army’s made several attempts to probe it, with no better success than the Faustus Institute had thirty years ago. Men returned in states of acute psychic shock, after mere minutes there, unable to describe what’d happened. Instruments recorded data that didn’t make sense.”
“Unless you adopt Nickelsohn’s hypothesis,” she said.
“What’s it?”
“That space-time in that cosmos is non-Euclidean, violently so compared to ours, and the geometry changes from place to pace.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.
“Well, yes, I’m told the Army researchers did decide—” He saw the triumph in her eyes. “Damn! What a neat trap you set for me!” With renewed starkness. “Okay. You’ll understand we dare not go blundering around when forces we can’t calculate are involved for reasons we can scarcely guess. The consequences could be disastrous. I’m going to report straight to the Director, who I’m sure will report straight to the President, who I’m equally sure will have us keep, alert but sit tight till we’ve learned more.”
“What about Steve and me?”
“You too. You might get contacted, remember.”
“I doubt it. What ransom could a demon want?”
“The demon’s master—”
“I told you to check on the Johnnies.”
“We will. We’ll check on everything in sight, reassonable or not. But it’ll take time.”
“Meanwhile Valeria is in hell.”
“If you want a priest we’ve clergy of most faiths cleared to serve our personnel. I can bring one here if you like.”
The red head shook. “No, thanks. Ask them to pray for her. It can’t hurt. I doubt it’ll help much, either. Certainly none of them can help us two. What we want is a chance to go after our daughter.”
My heart sprang. The numbness tingled out of me. I rose.
Shining Knife braced himself. “I can’t permit that. Sure, you’ve both accomplished remarkable things in the past, but the stakes are too high now for amateurs to play. Hate me all you want. If it’s any consolation, that’ll pain me. But I can’t let you jeopardize yourselves and the public interest. You’ll stay put. Under guard.”
“You—” I nearly jumped him. Ginny drew me back.
“Hold on, Steve,” she said crisply. “Don’t make trouble. What we’ll do, you and I, if it won’t interfere with the investigation, is choke down some food and a sleeping potion and cork off till we’re fit to think again.”
Shining Knife smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “I was certain you’d be sensible. I’ll go hurry ’em along in the kitchen so you can get that meal soon.”
I closed the door behind him. Rage shivered me.
“What the blue deuce is this farce?” I stormed. “If he thinks we’ll sit and wait on a gaggle of bureaucrats—”
“Whoa.” She pulled my ear down to her lips. “What he thinks,” she whispered, “is that his wretched guard will make any particular difference to us.”
“Oh-ho!” For the first time I laughed. It wasn’t a merry or musical noise, but it was a laugh of sorts.
XXIV
We weren’t exactly under house arrest. The well-behaved young man who stayed with us was to give us what protection and assistance we might need. He made it clear, though, that if we to leave home or pass word outside, he’d suddenly and regretfully discover reason to hold us for investigation of conspiracy to overthrow the Interstate Commerce Commission.
He was a good warlock, too. An FBI agent must have a degree in either sorcery or accounting; and his boss wanted to be sure we didn’t try anything desperate. But at supper Ginny magicked out of him the information she required. How she did that, I’ll never understand. I don’t mean she cast a spell in the technical sense. Rather, the charm she employed is the kind against which the only male protection is defective glands. What still seems impossible to me is that she could sit talking, smiling, Bashing sparks of wit a across a surface of controlled feminine sorrow, waggling her eyelashes and leading him on to relate his past exploits . . . when each corner of the place screamed that Valeria was gone.
We retired early, pleading exhaustion. Actually we were well rested and wire-taut. “He’s sharp on thaumaturgy,” my sweetheart murmured in the darkness of our bedroom, “but out of practice on mantics. A smoothly wrought Seeming ought to sucker him. Use the cape.”
I saw her intent. A cold joy, after these past hours in chains, beat through me. I scrambled out of my regular clothes, into my wolf suit, and put the civvies back on top. As I reached for the Tarnkappe—unused for years, little more than a war souvenir—she came to me and pressed herself close. “Darling, be careful!” Her voice was not steady and I tasted salt on her lips.
She had to stay, allaying possible suspicion, ready to take the ransom demand that might come. Hers was the hard part.
I donned the cloak. The hood smelled musty across my face, and small patches of visibility showed where moths had gotten at the fabric. But what the nuts, it was merely to escape and later (we hoped) return here in. There are too many counter-agents these days for Tarnkappen to be effective for serious work, ranging from infrared detectors to spray cans of paint triggered by an unwary foot. Our friendly Fed no doubt had instruments ready to buzz him if an invisibilizing field moved in his vicinity.
Ginny went into her passes, sotto voce incantations, and the rest. She’d brought what was necessary into this room during the day. Her excuse was that she wanted to give us both as strong a protection against hostile influences as she was able. She’d done it, too, with the FBI man’s admiring approval. In particular, while the spell lasted, I’d be nearly impossible to locate by paranatural means alone.