Sydney let out a low whistle. “Meg told me spots like that have formed all over the city.”

  “They have. Many of them are bigger than this. But this one will do. We’re going to dispel it.”

  “How?” asked Fael.

  “We’re going to enchant it.”

  Sydney scoffed. “There’s nothing to enchant. I heard rumors that your Underground kept shouting about crazy plans to the Family members they encountered in the city, but I thought everybody had misheard. You actually think you can enchant magic itself?”

  “I’ve done it.”

  Sydney frowned. “All right. Prove it.”

  “One moment.” I fished in my jeans pocket and withdrew a long line of twine. Giving the vortex a wide berth, I crossed to the other side of it and tied the twine around a yellow pole that separated sidewalk from parking lot. Then I rounded the vortex again and brought the twine back to the other two. “We’re all going to do this together,” I said. “The vortex might be small, but it’s still a more powerful locus of magic than either of you have ever encountered. I tried to dispel one of these alone one time, and I nearly overloaded myself. With all three of us working together, though, we should handle this easily.”

  The twine arced away from the vortex, forming a bow in the string. These magical anomalies repelled physical matter. Fortunately, I’d had time to think about that problem, and I’d come up with a solution. I pulled out a small, dense rock I’d found in the compound’s stream. Water had worn a hole straight through its middle, and I’d enchanted it to mimic the essence of magic, much as I’d enchanted objects to mimic my own essence to throw off trackers. Once I strung the rock onto the twine, its arc relaxed. It didn’t fully enter the vortex, and I didn’t expect it to, but its edge brushed up against the anomaly. That was enough.

  I offered Sydney the twine. She wrapped her hand over my own, her suspicious gaze alternating between me and the vortex. Fael hesitated, then added his hand atop Sydney’s.

  “You’ve both done tandem enchantments before?” I asked. They nodded. “Good. I’m going to be the focus. Both of you will channel the power through the twine. Ready? Then let’s do it.”

  I closed my eyes and drew in magic. Power rushed into me, the Kadum! of magic eagerly flowing from my surroundings into my skull. Simultaneously I felt magic rush into my two companions, zipping past my ears like a fast wind. The pressure grew in my skull, though I kept it well below my maximum capacity. I felt the power drawn in by Fael and Sydney through the touch of their hands, and I noted both of their powers combined barely equaled my own. The last time I’d done this had been with an enchanter nearly as strong as myself. The first flicker of doubt needled my chest. Hopefully this would still work.

  When we’d all drawn in power, I took hold of all three collections of magic. The other two eased up on their control, letting me focus the magic with my thoughts. I imagined a knitted blanket, vividly picturing each stitch and color. I let the magic absorb that image, taking in the essence of a whole, woven of many small parts.

  Then I imagined myself unraveling the blanket, stitch by stitch. I unknitted the fabric, breaking it into separate strands of multicolored yarn. Separate, I chanted in my thoughts. Be unmade. Unravel, forming disparate pieces from what once was unified.

  I repeated the thought as I imagined in painstaking detail the unraveling blanket. When all that remained was a pile of unwoven yarn, and I’d felt the magic understand and accept its purpose, I opened my eyes. With a nod to Fael and Sydney, I relinquished my hold of the magic and let them do the rest.

  I felt them seize the focused magic and channel it through the twine. It surged down the line, the natural fibers channeling all the magic with ease. Some bled off along the way, but that was expected when working with natural materials. The magic shot down the line and into the vortex, where Sydney and Fael halted it. It stopped right on target, and the enchantment took hold.

  At once the pressure in my head faded. The nausea lifted, and my stomach gave a leap of relief. The vortex shrank. The trash it had picked up tumbled out of its spin. Crumpled napkins, straws, and bottle caps clattered onto the concrete. Then the vortex disappeared entirely, leaving no sign that a magical disturbance had ever existed.

  If that had been all, the test would have been a complete success.

  But something else happened.

  My sense of ambient magic dimmed. Kadum, kadum, kadum, it beat evenly, moderately, nowhere near the jerking power I’d felt before. I frowned, letting my senses reach out. We’d drawn in a good amount of magic, but not enough to completely use up the extra pressure in the area. Where had it gone?

  Sydney and Fael were both staring at the spot where the vortex had vanished. I broke away from them and backtracked to where I’d felt the closest dead zone with no magic. Kadum, kadum, kadum, the rhythm continued there, steady from step to step.

  I returned to Fael and Sydney, and my presence seemed to break a spell. Both stirred and whirled to look at me.

  “It worked,” Sydney said softly. “You were right.”

  “I, uh, never doubted,” said Fael. “But it is good to have proof. Even if it only had a small effect, it’s a start.”

  “It had a bigger effect than we saw,” I said, glancing back toward the former magical dead zone. Thrills of excitement shot through my chest. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “We seem to have evened out the magic in this entire area.”

  Sydney crossed her arms. “With one little enchantment? Impossible.”

  “Go check one of the spots without magic,” I said. “The pressure is even throughout the entire parking lot, when it used to jump around like a seismograph.”

  Both of them glanced behind me. Sydney unfolded her arms. “Did that happen the last time you tried this?”

  “No. It was only me and one other person casting the enchantment, though. It’s like adding another person to the enchantment amplified it, way more than our combined power should have done.”

  “Exponential growth?” Sydney asked.

  “Maybe. I can’t say exactly how much the extra person amplified the enchantment, or whether adding a fourth person would have the same effect.”

  Sydney tapped her lips thoughtfully. “We’d need to map out the rhythms of magic through the entire area before and after an enchantment, then compare the effects of those enchantments with increasing groups of people.” Her eyes sparkled. “If this effect is scalable, though ...”

  Fael stared at the area where the miniature vortex had vanished. “We might be able to fix the entire world’s magic with a single enchantment.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said. “This step has been huge progress. But even if this effect scales up, we’d need a ton of enchanters to affect the entire world at once. For now, I just want you two to keep talking to the others in the Family. Remind them that the Underground has an alternate plan to fix magic. Suggest that it might actually work. We have to keep watering those seeds of doubt.”

  They both nodded.

  “Good.” I glanced again at the former magical dead zone, fascination thrumming within me. I wished I had time to study this at my leisure, but it would have to wait. “We’d better catch up. Greg and Lauren will wonder where we went.”

  I headed down the sidewalk, savoring the even kadum kadum of magic against my skin. For the first time in weeks, my head didn’t feel assaulted by discordant drumlines. Not only that, I had two enchanters behind me whose loyalty now felt secure.

  Kadum, kadum, kadum, the rhythms of magic underscored our marching. A battle anthem for the growing resistance.

  Chapter 22

  THE DAY OF TAEVAS’S ATTACK ARRIVED. We’d met with Kendall twice more, finalizing plans and ensuring minimal casualties from our strategy. It didn’t ease my discomfort with the whole idea, but Kendall reassured us repeatedly that Taevas had completely gone off the rails.

  I sat on the patio on a chair of twisty iron, skimming yet another lending novel while keeping an eye on the sky. According to Kendall’s intelligence, Taevas and a bird army would soon dive-bomb the compound, trying to rip out as many throats as possible. They’d picked a nasty time to do it, too. Geralt had gone off on another of his mysterious trips, the ones I suspected he used to sacrifice other enchanters to dispel magical build-up around the country. Without him here, the compound would seem vulnerable.

  High above me, a pair of dark wings dipped out of a cloud shaped like a hot air balloon. The bird circled the area before rising back into the cover of the clouds.

  Their third surveillance run in ten minutes. It must be almost time.

  On cue, Fael approached from the conference center, stretching his back. He looked around the patio, then came over to me. “I’m on break. Want to take a walk?”

  I took a few more seconds to finish reading my current paragraph, then closed the book. “Why not. I’m getting stiff sitting here anyway.”

  Fael waved at a few other people reading or chatting on the patio, and I nodded to Zashawn and his two friends crossing the yard toward the gym, carrying badminton racquets. One of them feigned tossing their racquet at me, and I pretended to duck, laughing. The guys raised their hands, grinning, and continued on their way.

  As Fael and I walked off, a middle-aged man on the patio raised his eyebrows with a slight smirk. I leaned toward Fael and whispered, “This really isn’t helping with people thinking we’re a couple.”

  “Need a bigger age gap? I could get a walker and start playing bingo and shuffleboard.”

  I chuckled. “The older enchanters actually did set up a bingo game in one of the unused offices.”

  “We could just tell people we’re not together.”

  “Gah, no! That’s the worst thing we could do. If we start denying it, they’ll be doubly sure they’re right.” I made a helpless gesture. “It’s probably a good thing in the long run. If people think we’re a couple, they’re less likely to suspect we’re up to anything.”

  “Oh, they suspect we’re up to something.”

  I punched him in the arm. “You know what I mean.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “That’s it, you’re not allowed to hang out with Kendall anymore. She’s a bad influence.”

  Fael chuckled, but then his face sobered. “She mentioned your actual boyfriend.”

  My heart winced. “Yes.”

  “He’s a ... um ...”

  I glanced around, but we were so far down the paths we couldn’t even tell there were buildings nearby. Still I kept my voice down. “A Void. Yes.”

  “One of the ones we ... you know.”

  “Yes.”

  “And ... how does that work?”

  “The same way it does for any other two people.”

  “But you’re literal opposites. That ‘opposites attract’ garbage only applies to magnets, not personalities. How are you able to stand being in the same room together when he’s literally spent his life persecuting your people?”

  I stopped. “Is that really what you believe all Voids are like? After everything you’ve seen?”

  “I saw them at their lowest point, captured and tortured. I’ve also seen them in power, and I didn’t like that version of them much better. You’ve convinced me you’re not like the Mentor, but I haven’t seen any such evidence for the Voids.”

  “They’re people, just like us.”

  “But they’re immune to magic. Not just unable to use it, like normals. They can’t feel any of its effects. When you see a beautiful sunrise, or hear a gifted musician play ...”

  “Those aren’t magic.”

  “Aren’t they? How do we know they actually experience the world the way we do? How do we know they can even coexist with us?”

  “That’s Geralt’s rhetoric talking.”

  “Maybe. But it’s all I know.”

  “You’ve seen Axel around. Probably his girl–his wife, Cassie, too. They get along with the enchanters here.”

  “They avoid us as much as possible. It’s not the same thing.”

  “No, I guess it’s not.” I studied the leaves strewing the path. What words could break through a lifetime of learned, and not entirely undeserved, prejudice? “I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will convince you. But if you met Desmond–a real meeting, not a two-second conversation during a rescue attempt–you’d see. He’s warm, friendly, and hardworking, and the most self-disciplined person I know. He carves furniture, beautiful pieces with scrollwork and arches and delicate floral patterns. He’s always been there for me, however I’ve needed him, even when it cost him. But he doesn’t only do that for me. One of our customers wanted this in-demand model of a train station for his miniature Christmas village. Desmond stayed up until midnight tracking one down, then paid to have it shipped across the country to our store. That customer still brings us cookies every Christmas.”

  I smiled fondly. “Desmond is also a terrible liar. His ears take on this red undertone when he’s embarrassed, and a few pieces of his hair always stick up. He’s not a monster, and he’s not defined by his immunity to magic. No more than you’re defined by your access to it.”

  Fael was watching me closely. “You really love him.”

  “I do.”

  “Despite what he’s done.”

  “You and I have done some things, too,” I said quietly. “The Void Union drew him in, just as Geralt has drawn you. How he drew me. You can’t blame Desmond for the Void Union’s policies any more than you blame Sydney or Lauren or yourself for the paranormals Geralt is terrorizing.”

  Fael opened his mouth, then closed it. “I hope I can meet your friends one day. I’m coming to realize a lot of things I thought I knew about the paranormal world aren’t quite accurate.”

  “None of us has the whole picture,” I agreed. “We only get in trouble when we think we do.”

  We reached the compound’s parking lot. Most of the vans usually taken by patrol teams remained here thanks to Geralt’s lockdown. They sat parked in a neat black and white row, save for one white van that some moron had planted at an angle to everybody else.

  Four of the vans were missing, probably in use by teams on patrol today. Sydney was out on one of her recruiting missions, so Fael and I were on our own.

  A glance up showed me another pair of dark wings popping out of the clouds before disappearing into them again. “Let’s keep up appearances,” I murmured.

  Not far from the parking lot sat a metal pole about five feet tall, topped with a bright yellow sign showing the number one. A metal basket encircled the pole about three feet off the ground. Inside the basket, a pair of plastic flying discs waited to be used. Fael snatched the green disc, leaving me to claim the loud orange one painted with multicolored swirls. I didn’t mind; the colors suited me.

  We retreated to where a yellow line had been spray-painted on a tree, and took turns trying to sail the discs into the basket. I came close on my first toss but went far afield on the second. Fael managed a perfect toss on his second try.

  “Cheater,” I grumbled, retrieving my disc yet again. “Are we even playing this right?”

  “One of the badminton guys knows the rules, I think.”

  “I’m not going back to ask him.”

  “That’s okay. Most people who come out here make up their own rules and then get bored by the third round.”

  I tried again to glide the disc into the basket, and it went completely sideways before crashing into one of the parked vans. Just then, not one but two birds dipped down out of the cloud bank.

  As I retrieved my disc, I said casually, “Get ready. I think they’re gearing up.”

  We stood there pretending to play disc baskets, or whatever it was called, for a couple more minutes. Fael actually took it upon himself to coach my form, showing me how to stand and fling the stupid plastic circle. I made it closer to the basket but never managed to actually touch the thing.

  On my tenth try, footsteps crunched toward us along the gravel, coming from the direction of the front gate. I frowned, peering down the path.

  Enrique appeared, strolling along with his hands in his pockets. He met my eyes, then tilted his head toward the road. He moseyed past us, but paused before the path turned. He gave me another significant look, then disappeared.

  “What was that about?” Fael whispered.

  “I don’t know.” I frowned after Enrique, wondering about the gesture. Was he trying to send me a message?

  Suddenly a brown bird, probably a hawk, zipped through the treetops. Our disc basketball game had frightened the other wildlife into hiding, so its appearance was easy to spot. If I hadn’t been specifically watching for it, though, I wouldn’t have noticed.

  My fingers closed tightly around the edge of the disc, the hard plastic digging into my skin. I nudged Fael and jerked my chin toward the trees. He didn’t look up, but gave me a small nod of understanding. Then I threw the disc again. It clacked against the outside of the basket, then tumbled to the ground. “That counts as a point,” I said loudly.

  Fael scoffed. “It certainly does not.”

  “Yes, it does. Let’s move to the next basket.”

  “Hole.”

  “It’s not a hole.”

  “I know, but they call them holes.”

  “That’s silly.” I picked up the fallen disc and plopped it in the basket, rattling the chains.

  “Why don’t I meet you at the next hole,” Fael said. “Need a bathroom break.”

  I waved him away. “Go on, it’ll give me more time to practice so I can beat you.”

  “I’m planning on coming back within the decade.”

  I laughed and shooed him off. He gave me a questioning glance, and I nodded. This was part of the plan. I’d be fine.

  After Fael disappeared around a turn on the path, I headed off in the direction I’d seen the little bird flying. According to Kendall’s intelligence, Taevas’s people were sending an early attacker to cause a distraction, probably by slashing the tires on our vehicles. I was going to catch the culprit in the act, which would give me an excuse to alert the rest of the compound.

 

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