Evan approached, flying low to the ground, flying recklessly enough to disturb some of the brave pigeons that had lingered for the winter. He rose just in time to land on my shoulder, and I flipped up the hood of my sweatshirt. He took refuge beneath as I set the hood down flat, Evan peeking out from beneath.
Wouldn’t do to have a bird flying around the police station.
Here we go.
Through the doors.
I used the sight to search for traps, a brief sweep.
“Move!” a heavyset woman ordered me, when I opened the door but didn’t rush through. Nothing on the frame.
“Old man,” Rose whispered. “Over the staircase. Crucified by gold chains. Sand leaking from the areas where the chains bite into the walls.”
I nodded.
They were here. I turned, heading off to find another, less direct route to the chief’s office.
“Stop,” Rose said.
I stopped.
“Four.”
“Four?”
“Four Behaims. Very close. Younger.”
Bastard isn’t one for half-measures.
I reached over to push up my sleeve. I touched the Stonehenge charm.
I could feel connections of varying intensity. Bonds between the charm bracelet and the other people around me. People paying fines, staff, police…
Two to my right. A teenage girl and a younger boy who was maybe just on the cusp of teenhood. The boy had what looked like a pad of yellow sticky notes held between index and middle finger, and was periodically flipping through it with his thumb, a practiced gesture. There was something drawn on the top one, and it looked complicated.
Another to my left, older, maybe older than me, a man in sunglasses. Another in front, the same age, standing to one side, fiddling with her phone. It wasn’t a smartphone, some brick phone, the durable sort.
All of them had the standard Behaim look. Dark hair, square faces, heavy builds that weren’t necessarily fat. Well, the youngest boy and the older girl looked like they might be, but that wasn’t the concern.
None had noticed me quite yet, but I was stirring interest by way of the charm.
I stopped using it, trying to duck out of sight.
Off to one side.
They were searching for me, and I paid attention to the roving connections, trying to hide.
Maybe that was a mistake, because the guy with the sunglasses noticed. The others saw his reaction and took that as their cue.
I wouldn’t be slipping by. It was a shame Fell wasn’t willing to teach me his illusion, because I’d really like having it.
“How do we handle this?” Rose asked.
“Gently, I said, as the teenage girl and sticky-note boy made a beeline for me.
“I think Laird is counting on you being gentle.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I turned a hard right. Heading for a long hallway that would let me put distance between us.
They followed, except for phone girl, who remained where she was.
“Another Other lying in wait toward the end of the hall, keeping you from rounding the corner. The giant with the hidden face. He’s powering a circle that was drawn on the wall there, hidden in the midst of some graffiti.”
Fuck me.
“Tell me when you want me to stop,” I said.
“Twenty paces.”
For now, the number of people in our immediate proximity was an advantage. Cover, and they couldn’t do anything obvious without drawing attention.
“You wanted me to be your firepower, Blake,” Rose interrupted my thoughts.
“Not against kids,” I muttered.
“You think they’ll play nice?” she asked. “They’ve been practicing longer than you have.”
“Not with those things, and what happened last time.”
I drew looks for talking to myself. People seemed surprisingly okay with it, all things considered.
“I was more careful. The restrictions are tight. No killing. No harming me or you.”
Mail and reception, bathrooms…
Bathroom could be a dead end.
Another stairwell.
I bit my lip, thinking.
“Three paces.”
I stopped. Those were my options.
I could see runes laid out, making it a dangerous proposition.
They’d trapped the building.
Pretty fitting, given Duncan’s previous M.O.
Alright then.
If there was anyone inside the bathroom, they were in the stalls. I walked to the far end of the bathroom, using the sinks to steady myself as I ducked low to see if any feet were visible. I was alone.
Rose was already waiting when I turned to the bathroom mirror.
“I need you to stall them. Going to duck into the spirit world. With luck, their sight isn’t that good, I can slip by.”
“Relying on luck already?” she asked.
I dug through my backpack, pulling out the posterboard. “They didn’t see the connections as well as I did. Their sight isn’t that well trained.”
“At least one of them saw.”
“Maybe one of them is competent then, but it’s better than being followed by four. Go. We’ll figure this out.”
She went, traveling from one mirror to the next on her way to the door.
I could see her walking. Raising a hand as she passed one mirror, then it was lowered when she passed the other, her mouth open as she said something I couldn’t make out.
When she’d reached the mirror closest to the door, she had company.
Mary, the woman with the kitchen knife.
Wouldn’t have been my first choice.
I’m losing control of all this, I thought.
Losing control of Rose, no longer having my friends compartmentalized…
The door swung open.
The boy with the sticky notes, the girl I assumed to be his sister.
“Laird uses children to fight on his behalf?” I asked.
“We volunteered,” the girl said. “Those books you ruined? Those were valuable. That was fucked up.”
If theft of property that belonged in a certain place had repercussions, then destruction had to be the same.
“You shit on them?” the boy asked. “In our aunt’s house?”
“To be fair, I only let a goblin loose,” I said.
“It wasn’t fair at all,” he said. He held up the stickies so I could see the inscription. It looked like a complex piece of clockwork more than a magic circle. “You probably deserve this.”
“Your family killed my cousin, and tried to get me killed. I’m not supposed to fight back?”
“I-” he started. He stopped when something clinked against the mirror.
Rose was standing beside me, but something else was tapping the mirror, with steady, sharp sounds.
He and his sister looked at the mirror.
“Go get Gav,” she said, her eyes wide, her voice a hush. “Get him in here, tell him to use protection.”
He fled the room.
“That was a mistake,” I said.
“No,” she said. She looked at the mirror. “That was.”
She reached into her pocket, and she withdrew a chain. Not steel. Some other material.
She tossed it to the ground, then kicked it twice, until it made a rough oval shape. She stood within.
The glass shattered. A knife point stuck through.
Mary came through a moment later, with a crash of glass. She collapsed on entry.
The man with sunglasses, ‘Gav’, appeared in the door. He also had a chain in hand. He tossed it to the ground at the doorway, then used his toe to move it so it was secure.