“All right.”
“And let’s assume as well that whoever it was really did want you dead. Why are you still alive?”
God, I hated lying to her. But this didn’t seem like the time to introduce the concept of Namid, the magical ghost who only I could see. “The spell failed,” I said instead.
It was circular logic, like saying that I woke up because I stopped sleeping. But Billie was on unfamiliar ground, and she let it go.
“That happens?”
“Of course. That’s why it’s called a craft. It’s not automatic. The effectiveness of any magic is limited by the abilities of the person wielding it.”
We were almost back to the Z-ster. Again I tried to sense the sorcerer, but it seemed that we were still safe. Billie said nothing until we got to the car and I unlocked the door for her-the Z-ster was a vintage car; no automatic locks. I started around to the driver’s side, but Billie caught my arm.
“I’m going to need some time, Fearsson.”
My heart sank. I understood, but I’d hoped that somehow we could get past it. I should have known better.
“I know,” I said, putting on a brave smile. “We’re in no rush here.”
She let me go.
I drove her back to her house and walked her to the door. Neither of us had much to say.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, after we’d stood in awkward silence for a few moments.
I told her the truth. “I feel like I’ve been worked over.”
“You really thought you were going to die?”
“I was pretty sure of it.”
She reached out and rubbed my arm, concern and fear and sadness all mingling on her features, until her face resolved at last into a slight frown. Her hand lingered on my arm, though. “You should get some sleep,” she said after a while.
“I’d like to, but I have someone I have to see.” Checking my watch, I saw that it was already ten-thirty. “Soon.”
“What?” she said. “Who?”
“A guy named Antoine Mirdoux. He called me earlier. Said he needed to talk to me about the case.”
“Is he a magician?”
“Most people call them sorcerers, sometimes mystes. And yes, he is.”
She blinked. “I was kidding.”
“I know you were. But he is.”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded once. “Okay, then. This has been an interesting evening.” She turned and unlocked the door to her house.
I waited until she turned to face me again, and then I leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “Don’t give up on me yet, okay?”
“Wouldn’t do me a bit of good anyway. You’d just slip me a love potion.”
I grinned, and so did she.
“Would you rather I didn’t call for a while?” I asked.
“I’ll call you,” she said.
“All right. Good night.”
I walked back to the car.
“I really will call,” she said.
I reached the Z-ster and glanced back at her. “Good.”
Namid was sitting in the passenger seat when I got in, but I ignored him until I had pulled away from Billie’s house. No sense in throwing more fuel on the fire by appearing to talk to myself.
“You are all right, Ohanko?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you. You saved my life.”
“I told you the woman was a distraction.”
I cast an angry look his way. “That’s not fair. He would have attacked me whether she’d been there or not. And we both know that I’m nowhere near strong enough to fight him off.”
“You are wrong. You could have warded yourself if you had been prepared. But you tried to ward her as well, and you almost died.”
I couldn’t argue. “You told me that there would be a cost,” I said after several seconds, the memory seeming to come from a great distance. “You were saving me, and I said I didn’t know that you could. And you said, ‘I can’t.’ What did you mean?”
“We runemystes are not supposed to meddle so in the affairs of humans. We are not even supposed to have that ability. I sensed though that I could this time. I do not know what it means. I do know that when I saved your life, I went against the laws of my kind. Already the others know of this, and have called for a conclave to speak of what I have done.”
“Will you be punished?”
“Possibly.”
I wondered how one punished a runemyste. Could they take away his powers? Could they hurt him? I almost asked, but Namid was always tight-lipped about these things. He’d already told me more than I would have expected.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“You must be careful. I will not be able to intervene again. If this runecrafter makes another attempt on your life, you will face him alone.”
“I haven’t sensed him since the club. Did you do something to him?”
“It is enough that I showed myself. My kind are feared by the dark ones. He knows now that you and I are linked, and he will be more careful the next time he assails you. But assail you he will. You are more of a threat to him now. Our bond will give him pause, it may even make him fear you. But ultimately it will make him ever more determined to kill you.”
A joke leaped to mind, but I kept it to myself. Most of the time Namid thought my humor inappropriate, and tonight I was inclined to agree with him.
“I’ll tread like the fox,” I said, trying to smile.
Namid nodded. Then he vanished.
CHAPTER 16
I wanted nothing more than to go home, take a hot shower, and curl up in my bed for a day or two. Even as I began the drive into Mountain View, I considered blowing off my appointment with Antoine. It wasn’t as though he and I had hit it off the day we spoke. Let him handle his own damn problems. That’s what I told myself anyway.
As if in response, I heard again his voice on the phone. He’d been terrified. The guy hated me; he wouldn’t have made the call if he hadn’t been desperate. Besides, I probably wouldn’t get any sleep anyway. I had a feeling that it would be a long time before I could close my eyes without reliving those terrifying moments on the floor of Robo’s.
Driving through this part of Phoenix by day was depressing. It didn’t take a genius to see that hope had abandoned these neighborhoods years ago, leaving a residue of despair and bitterness that seemed to coat the homes and shops, even the streets themselves, like dust from a desert wind storm. But at night, this area, like Maryvale and Estrella Mountain and parts of Cactus Park, became something else entirely. Hopelessness gave way to fear; misery turned to rage. Violence, as Mick Jagger once put it, was just a shot away. Even cops didn’t like to venture here after dark. Kona and I had investigated more murders in south central Phoenix than I cared to count, but I’d never gotten used to it.
Now I was alone, and I didn’t like it at all. I started going over my phone conversation with Antoine in my mind, searching for any indication that this might be a trap. Maybe Billie was right and I was getting paranoid. The first time I met the kid, though, I thought he might be working with the red sorcerer. And here I was, maybe an hour after Red had come within a hair’s breadth of killing me, going to meet Antoine at his home. Either I was too stupid for words, or. . well, that was the only option coming to mind.
I decided that I would park a short distance from the house, like I had last time, and approach on foot. I didn’t want Antoine trying to kill me again, and the Z-ster didn’t exactly blend in on these streets.
As soon as I turned the corner onto Antoine’s street I knew that I wouldn’t have to creep up on the place after all. I parked in front of the kid’s house and sat there, staring at the ruin, my stomach knotting like wet rope.
I knew without getting out of the car that Antoine was dead. All of his wardings were gone. I assumed they had been torn to shreds by the pulsing crimson magic that now covered the house. But there wasn’t even a trace of them left. Had he been alive there would have been something. It was one of the fundamental principles of magic: spells died with the sorcerer who crafted them.