Library Gate 3, page 2
The woman gestured to a second door in the wall behind the desk. Thaddeus blinked. There had been only one door there only moments ago. Or had there? He thought back to all the times he’d visited the warehouse on mission business. He was sure there had been only one.
He glanced at Mason, who grinned back at him, waiting for a reaction. Thaddeus merely smiled. If Mason wanted a show of surprise, he’d come to the wrong person.
Jane held the door open as they walked through it and into a long, thin hallway. The hallway was lit with long strips of fluorescent lights, painted cinder-block walls, and polished concrete floors. Every so often they passed a door, but for the most part the hallway was just that, a hallway.
After several minutes of walking, they came to a second doorway made of heavy metal, painted a rusty shade of orange.
Jane turned to Mason. “Would you like to do the honors, sir?”
“You go ahead, sweetheart,” Mason said with a patronizing smile.
She pulled out an oversized keyring, the kind that a janitor might carry, jingling with hundreds of keys of all shapes and sizes, including what looked like hotel room card keys. While some were ornate, the majority were simple house keys.
Jane singled out one of the card keys. She held it up in front of a card reader against the wall next to the door. The doors slid open to reveal that the hallway continued on the other side. They started walking again.
This stretch of hallway looked the same as the first, except that the floor sloped downwards. Thaddeus thought of the second door behind the reception desk. He bet that it led to a fake warehouse. What would it contain? Wood? Exotic imports? Car parts? Something that would look like it belonged in the warehouse district in case someone got curious and stopped by to check on things.
They came to a wall—a dead end. Thaddeus glanced at Jane and Mason. Neither of them acted perturbed by this. Well, if they weren’t going to bring it up he sure as hell wasn’t.
Jane pulled out the keyring again. This time she unclipped a long, thin key that resembled a stylus. She took it and carefully spelled something out on the wall—her name? A password? The stylus did not leave any marks, so it was impossible to know for sure—on the wall.
She pulled the key away with a flourish, and the wall dissolved, revealing an elevator on the other side. They stepped inside. The walls were completely smooth—no buttons, not even an emergency phone. What would happen if they got stuck?
The elevator door slid closed, and he fought the urge to throw himself back out into the hallway and run for the exit. The hair on his arms stood on end—he could practically feel the magic swirling in the air around him.
“Going down,” Mason said, then laughed as though it were the funniest joke in the world. Jane chuckled politely.
At first, his stomach dropped like they were moving downwards, but then it felt like they weren’t moving at all. It was like being on one of those amusement park rides where they put you in a room and shake you around a little to simulate movement.
“How far down does this go?” Thaddeus asked.
Jane smiled. “It depends what you’re looking for.”
What kind of answer was that? She offered no other clarification. “What’s above us?” he asked. “Just dirt?”
She laughed uncomfortably. “Perhaps you should ask Mr. Mason these questions. He’ll be able to answer them more to your satisfaction.”
Or, more likely, she wouldn’t have to tread so carefully about how much information to give him.
Mason spoke up. “All in good time, Thad. Be patient. Don’t ruin the surprise!”
Mason wanted him to ask what the surprise was, like a five-year-old, didn’t he? Thaddeus didn’t say anything.
Finally, Jane took out the stylus-like key and wrote something on the elevator door. When she pulled away, the wall began to dissolve, revealing a large warehouse space. If it weren’t for the lack of windows and the fact that Thaddeus knew better, he would have assumed that they were on the ground level.
There was one issue with that, though: this space was far larger than the warehouse above was.
They stepped out of the elevator onto a platform that overlooked the warehouse floor.
It was so much larger than he could have imagined. Rows of gigantic shelves stacked with boxes and crates towered at least three stories high. Each row continued on further than he could see. A dozen workers wearing yellow hard hats and lab coats moved about the floor.
Jane stepped around a corner and came back with two hard hats and two pairs of protective eye goggles. She wore an identical set. “Safety first,” she said cheerfully.
Mason took one set and handed the other to Thaddeus.
“Thanks for your help, Jane. Now, I need to discuss a few things with Thad in private. We’ll find you again when we need to be let out.”
She nodded and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the massive space.
“What is this place?” Thaddeus asked.
“It’s the warehouse where we store our magical acquisitions.”
“I know that. But all this can’t all be filled with magic. It’s too big. What is the rest of the space used for?”
“Walk with me, Thad.” Mason led Thaddeus down a flight of industrial metal stairs onto the warehouse’s main floor. He could see the activity of the floor below through the mesh steel steps.
Workers holding clipboards walked by them. They appeared to be counting or otherwise recording the boxes’ conditions. Most wore lab coats, hard hats, and eye visors. Did they know those items were useless to protect them against the evils that lined the shelves?
Damn it. Twenty minutes ago he had no idea that this place existed. His ears buzzed as he became light-head, still unable to believe what he was seeing.
A horn beeped behind them, and Thaddeus moved to let a forklift pass. The vehicle stopped about twenty feet away, raising the forklift up and pulling a large metal box from one of the higher shelves.
“What’s he doing?” Thaddeus asked. Why would they need to move one of these objects?
“Perhaps someone in another division needs it for a mission,” Mason said. “Who knows? You’re always so focused on the details, Thad! That’s why I brought you here today.”
“It is?” Thad watched the forklift recede into the distance.
He walked to the base of the shelving. A clipboard hanging on a hook read statues—cursed, enchanted, otherwise spelled. Thaddeus started to ask what use a cursed statue could serve to another division, but he stopped himself. It was against protocol to ask about another operative’s work. It could endanger the mission.
Instead, he said, “Why haven’t these items been destroyed? They’re dangerous.”
Mason shrugged and looked over at Thad. “You’ve had as much experience with magic as me, possibly more.”
Definitely more, Thaddeus thought, but he didn’t dare say it out loud.
Mason continued. “Have you ever seen a magical object decommissioned?”
“That’s not my department,” Thaddeus said. “I acquire the objects and then deliver them. After that they’re someone else’s problem.”
“You’re a good soldier, Thad,” Mason said, clapping him on the back. “You do what you’re told and believe everything, or at least don’t ask questions. That sort of numb obedience is important at a certain level, don’t get me wrong. But I’m going to pull back the curtain a bit.”
Thaddeus was stunned. A soldier? Numb obedience?
Mason continued. “Magic, in its very basic form, is energy. Energy cannot be destroyed.”
“But it can be converted,” Thaddeus said.
“True,” Mason said, “But what’s conversion of magic other than wizardry? And who knows, we might accidentally convert these things into something even more unstable. It’s best to keep them here, where they’re safe.”
Thaddeus took a step towards Mason. “So you’re telling me that none of the items I’ve turned in have been destroyed? They’re all just sitting here in this warehouse?”
One of the nearby workers glanced at them nervously before tucking his clipboard under his arm and striding away. Thaddeus realized he’d raised his voice.
“Whoah, sport.” He patted Thaddeus on the shoulder again. “It must come as a shock… but part of you must have known deep down. You’re too smart.”
Thaddeus thought of all the times the opposition had accused him of stealing their magic. Collectors, they called them. He always hated the name, but took solace in the fact that it was a misnomer. Why let the words of filthy magic wielders get to him?
But they were right.
Mason was still talking. “It’s here so we can protect it.”
“You mean protect the world from it,” Thaddeus corrected.
“Of course.” Mason waved his hand dismissively as though there was barely a distinction.
“What if someone finds this?” Thaddeus asked. “What if someone breaks in? What if one of the workers becomes power-hungry—”
“Calm down. None of that is going to happen. Did you see all the hullabaloo Jane went through just to get us down here? And that’s with knowing what needs to be done. And the workers are paid very, very well. But if they do get ideas… well, let’s just say they won’t like the results.”
Was Mason implying that the workers would be harmed if they tried to steal any of the items? No, that wasn’t possible. The agency protected people; it didn’t hurt them.
Thaddeus gritted his teeth. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I think I’ve made you wait long enough for your surprise,” Mason said, gleefully, ignoring his question “Do you have any guesses? No?”
Why didn’t Mason just get on with it, already?
Mason looped an arm around Thaddeus’ neck, then steered him away from the shelf. “You’ve been one of our most effective operatives. You’ve deserved a promotion ten times over, but we’ve kept you in the field because you’re so damn effective. You make me look good to the partners. But it’s time you reap some of the benefits of your hard work and dedication.” He spread his arms wide. “Say hello to your new office!”
Thaddeus stopped. “You’re taking me out of the field? Sir—”
“We’re promoting you, son.”
“But the Pagewalker—”
“You’ll be more effective against her this way. Don’t think I didn’t take that into account. We’ve already assigned a new lead to your squadron.”
“But—”
“I’m promoting you, Thad. Try to show a little bit of gratitude.” There was a note of warning in Mason’s voice. This wasn’t an offer.
Thaddeus swallowed. “What exactly does this promotion entail?”
“You’ll be undertaking a more… managerial role,” Mason said. “We’ll go over it in more detail later, but in a nutshell, you’ll put your experience to better use overseeing magical acquisitions and storage.”
Mason’s meaning started to sink in. “You mean you want me to work here? Surrounded by all this?” Thaddeus said. He glanced up at the shelves. They now seemed to be pressing in on him, threatening to fall down and crush him.
“No. You’ll have your own office in a separate part of the building. Like I said, all those details still need to be worked out. I just thought you needed perspective on the true scope of your job to understand what an honor this is. We’re not just pushing you off to some desk.”
Thaddeus’ heart sank. Even if he wasn’t working here with all this evil surrounding him, this meant no more field work. How was he supposed to fulfill his father’s legacy from behind a stack of papers?
“Your yearly salary will double,” Mason said, his voice raising in pitch enticingly.
Thaddeus forced himself to nod. There was no use arguing with Mason now. All he could do was let him play out his show and hope he could fix this later when Mason was in a less dramatic mood. “Thank you, sir.”
Mason clapped him on the back once more. “That’s more like it. Now, I hate to run off, but the headmistress at my daughter’s school has a vendetta against her,” he explained with a grim look on his face. “the bitch says she’s been bullying the other girls. She’s suspended her for a week. Can you believe it? I have to fly there and straighten this out. I swear they do this so they can extort money out of me.” He sighed. “My assistant will be in touch to schedule a follow-up appointment.”
Mason waved his hand. “Have a look around. When you’re done, just let Jane know you want to leave. You don’t want to get stuck in the elevator.”
Thaddeus stared after him as he left, dumb-struck. Once Mason disappeared, he glanced around the shelves. He wanted to leave, but… he felt he needed to get a handle on just how big this place was.
He started down the aisle. He walked for nearly twenty minutes and still he could see no end to the shelves stacked with boxes. Was that magic too? How much more was there? And this couldn’t be the only such facility like this, could it? Europe would have one, as well as the other major city centers in the states. So much magic concentrated in one spot. Centuries’ worth. He’d thought he’d been working to destroy it. What a joke.
They’d called them the collectors. They were right.
He walked to the nearest clipboard. Moles, curse breakers, and counter-spells. Those were at least useful, he supposed. But what about the rest of it?
He continued walking until he came to a break in the shelves. He turned left, moving towards what he thought was the center. The next several rows he passed were the same as the first, stacks upon stacks of boxes, barrels, and crates.
But then the rows opened onto a square structure, a building within a building. It could have been a direct-access motel where the rooms opened to the parking lot. It stood three stories, each holding around twenty doors. A fetid human odor permeated the air, the smell of body odor and excrement.
In the center of each door was a small window with bars, below which was a small, thin slot. A worker pushed a cart around the first level. At each door he removed a tray from the slot, then pressed a new one in. What was he doing?
A second worker climbed up the stairs to the second level, his feet clanging on the mesh metal stairs with every step. A keyring identical to Jane’s dangled from his belt. How many such keyrings existed? What security measures were in place to make sure that one didn’t end up in the wrong hands?
The worker stopped in front of one of the doors, checked his clipboard, then unlocked the door. He pulled out an old man, roughly pushing him up against the wall. The prisoner was so thin that Thaddeus feared he might snap in half from the rough treatment. The worker slipped a pair of cuffs onto his wrists. As he pulled him away, the man looked around him as though drinking in the details. His red-gray beard nearly touched his belly button.
This man wasn’t just awaiting trial. He’d been in that cell for months. Maybe years.
Thaddeus shivered. In the academy there were stories about what became of agents who broke their oaths to the agency. Some said they were executed, others spoke of a prison where operatives went in but didn’t come out. Thaddeus had always assumed they were nothing more than urban legends used to haze new recruits. Was it possible there was a kernel of truth to them?
The prisoner looked up and met Thaddeus’ gaze. Even from a distance Thaddeus could make out the vibrant green of the man’s eyes. The man’s expression changed. It looked almost like he recognized Thaddeus. But that wasn’t possible…
Thaddeus’ throat became dry and paper-like as he tried to swallow. He turned to walk away, colliding with someone as he did so.
“Jesus!” He focused on the person in front of him. It was Jane. His face grew hot. Why was he getting so worked up? “I didn’t see you,” he said, his voice higher-pitched than normal.
“Mr. Broker,” she said, giving him a strange look. “I hate to hurry you along, but I’m needed elsewhere.” The way her eyes darted around as she spoke made Thaddeus suspect that he wasn’t supposed to be in this section of the warehouse. Why not just tell him so?
“Of course.”
“I truly am sorry,” she said, her smile forced, like a dog expecting to be hit.
“It’s no trouble at all. I was about to come find you.” He looked back at the prison. “What is this place?”
Jane began to look even more nervous. “Those are very bad people. They deserve to be in there.”
“Who are they? What did they do to deserve this?” Thaddeus shivered. He could think of nothing worse than being locked down here, hundreds of feet from the sunlight and surround by a hoard of magic.
“You should really ask Mason these questions.” She repeated apologetically. “Sorry. Just doing my job.”
“Of course,” Thaddeus said, and he allowed himself to be led away.
Chapter Four
“How long have you been rooming with Randall, Dorian?” Gram asked.
“A couple of years?” Barty said it as though he was asking the question instead of answering it.
“I see,” Gram said. They’d been in the living room talking for several minutes. “It’s quite a pleasure to meet the man who’s been keeping my April out so late.” Gram glanced at the couch between them. They were separated by eighteen inches of space, each with their hands clasped together over their knees. They lapsed into an awkward silence.
“Well,” Barty said with an oversized smile, “I’d love to see the house.” He clapped his hands together expectantly.
April nodded. Gram probably found the request a little sudden, but she didn’t care at this point. Anything would be better than this uncomfortable conversation. “Do you mind if I give Dorian a quick tour, Gram?”
Gram stood, apparently just as eager as they were to get out of the stiflingly awkward introduction. “You two go ahead. I’ll call when dinner is finished.”
They stood, and as she and Barty walked towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms when Gram grabbed April’s arm. “Middle Eastern?” she whispered, her eyebrow raised.
April faltered. She’d forgotten she’d told Gram that detail. “I guess it doesn’t show much.”
