The Book of War, page 6
“You’ve said that before. I’m not sure Lucia would agree.”
Judy made a dismissive noise. “Lucia cares about results. She would grumble about it if you brought those people into the secret, but if they were a net benefit, she wouldn’t grumble much. And besides, what if that genetic difference made you more susceptible to being drained instead? They’d need to know to protect themselves. It’s just coincidence that you’re all protected instead.”
“You make sense.” I scowled. “I’ll see what these auguries say, but I think it’s time to let at least some of them know the truth.”
“How do you know a few of them know about magic already?”
I shrugged. “I had Campbell Security investigate all of them, in case that told me more about all of us in general. And there are strong hints that four of them are using their magic deliberately. Like, there’s one guy who’s a professional gambler, and another woman who tells fortunes for a living.”
“That could be coincidence,” Judy said.
“But they’re both precognitives. That’s way too much coincidence for me.”
Judy pursed her lips. “All right, that’s a fair point. Anyway, the more reason to bring them in on the secret. If they know about magic, they’re halfway to the truth already, and why not give them a chance to use their powers for something other than themselves?”
“That’s an interesting way to look at it.”
“The sensible way.” Judy turned and retreated into the stacks.
I carried my books to the office and put them into my capacious purse, then stood looking at the photo of Silas Abernathy, former custodian and later stone magus. I thought of him as a sort of guardian of the store, given that he’d overseen its dangerous transfer from its original home in England to its current location. “I wonder what you’d do,” I mused. “No, actually I’m sure you’d tell those four sports, because you always followed your instincts. And mine are telling me Judy is right. So maybe I didn’t need the auguries, after all.” I glanced down at my purse. “Or maybe I needed them to confirm what I already knew. Maybe they’ll tell me how to go about it, because I’m sure calling those people and blurting it all out is a bad idea.”
Silas regarded me in silence, his smile frozen on his lips for eternity, his hat tipped back on his bald head and his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his three-piece suit. “And maybe I need to stop talking to pictures and get back to work,” I said, though there wasn’t really any work to do. Sit at the front counter and wait for people to come in, probably.
So I did that for about twenty minutes during which no one came in for an augury. It was going to be one of those afternoons. I tried to remember how crazy busy we sometimes got and how frazzled I felt then, but mostly I was just bored. When the door opened, loudly jingling the bells, I sat up and said, “Viv. I’m so glad to see you.”
Viv unwound her colorful scarf from around her neck. “Is it that serious?”
“Is what serious?”
“You sure made it seem like Judy’s problem was too dire to discuss in front of Jeremiah.” She dropped her scarf to puddle on the counter and ran her fingers through her green hair, disordering her chin-length bob.
“Oh, that. I don’t know how dire it is, but it’s private.”
“What’s private?” Judy said, emerging from the stacks with the broom in hand.
I blushed. Viv fixed Judy with a sharp stare. “You tell me,” she said.
Judy scowled, but her normally rosy cheeks were redder than mine. “It’s not a big deal. I’m involved with Mike Conti. That’s all.”
Viv’s eyes widened. “That is a big deal. How long has this been going on? Since Helena’s wedding?”
“If you knew, why are you asking me now?” Judy sighed. “It’s just sex. Really, that’s all.”
“Except if it was just sex, you wouldn’t be so embarrassed,” Viv said. “Let me guess. You like him and you’re afraid he doesn’t feel the same.”
Judy leaned the broom against the counter and covered her face with both hands. “Not exactly. It’s supposed to be a no strings attached relationship, and he’s not interested in changing that.”
“Are you sure?” Viv asked. “Maybe you—”
“Don’t tell me to talk to him,” Judy said, glaring at Viv. Then she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “I just heard myself say that. I can’t believe I’m this pathetic.”
“Look, if you like him and you want more out of the relationship than sex,” Viv said, “you have to tell him that. At worst, he breaks it off entirely and you no longer have semi-illicit sex in your apartment.”
“Why semi-illicit?” I asked.
“Because her father would pop a vein if he knew about it,” Viv said.
“That is absolutely true,” Judy said. “But I find I don’t care about that so much anymore. It’s stupid that the factions are so antagonistic toward each other. I mean, what if Mike were my soulmate? Which I’m not saying he is, so don’t get excited,” she said, heading off Viv’s exclamation. “My point is, I shouldn’t have to choose who I care about based on how appropriate my father thinks he is. This isn’t the nineteenth century, after all.”
“So tell him,” Viv said. “Mike, I mean. Obviously it’s none of William Rasmussen’s business who you sleep with.”
Judy scowled again, but it didn’t look like her heart was in it. “I’ll…think about it,” she said. “Maybe. I don’t know if that’s what I want. But you’re right, I shouldn’t be afraid to bring it up.”
“That’s right,” Viv said. “Girls’ night out tomorrow? Helena already said yes.”
“Sounds fun,” Judy said.
I let myself in by the back door and inhaled the tangy aroma of beef stew. I used the slow cooker a lot during the winter, both because I loved hot meals and because I liked having those hot meals ready when I got home. I kicked off my shoes and padded down the short hallway to the kitchen, where Malcolm was occupied tossing a salad. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said. “It’s my day to cook.”
“I got home early and it’s no problem,” Malcolm said. He carried the salad bowl to the table in the breakfast nook, which I could see was already set. We never used the dining room, with its table that could seat twelve, when it was just us.
I took the lid off the pot and gave the contents a little stir, releasing more of the delicious smell, and then turned around. “Wait. You said you had an afternoon meeting. How did you get home early?”
Malcolm returned to my side and took me in his arms. “I cancelled the meeting,” he said, “on account of another meeting taking precedence. Warden business.”
The way he said it made dread creep up my spine. “You’re going on the attack.”
“Three nights from now, at midnight.”
I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against his shoulder. “Can you tell me the details?”
He held me a little more tightly for a moment and then released me. “Let’s serve dinner, and we can talk.”
I’d thought the knowledge that Malcolm was going into danger yet again would kill my appetite, but the stew smelled so good, and it had been a long time since lunch. I blew on a spoonful of beef and potatoes and said, “Where are you going?”
“Lucia’s people have located one of the Mercy’s secret hideouts,” Malcolm said. “She believes it is their primary stronghold. We intend to destroy it, or at least make it useless to them. At the same time, other nodes around the world will attack the Mercy in their areas. A coordinated strike, intended to cut off the Mercy operatives from their leaders and weaken the organization to the breaking point.”
“That sounds huge. Where is it? The one you’re attacking?”
“Somewhere in Montana, which is why Lucia is overseeing the operation. Herb Lavigne, who has responsibility for the central north region, doesn’t have the resources to mount an operation like this alone. The team leaders met this afternoon to go over the strategy. It’s…different.”
I took another bite. “That sounds like a bad kind of different.”
Malcolm shook his head. “No, but it is interesting. It seems the Mercy has set up a peculiar kind of security on its stronghold. Humans can’t pass through it unless they are accompanied by an invader.”
“But—” I stopped with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “Does that mean familiars, too?”
“You’re quick,” Malcolm said with a smile. “We will use the Nicollien familiars to breach their security, and then we will strike.”
“So…the factions have to work together.”
“They do.” Malcolm took a bite of salad, chewed, and added, “It frustrates me that none of them were happy about it. In fact, some of them argued vehemently that we should find another option rather than work with ‘damned Nicolliens.’ Their animosity has become ridiculous.”
“I agree. We have a common enemy—why can’t they see that?”
“Habit,” Malcolm said, “and the human tendency to want to take sides in any conflict. But it has become a matter of almost religious zeal, and I’m afraid it’s going to get people killed.”
We ate in silence for about a minute, me thinking about my friends in both the Nicollien and Ambrosite camps and how I wished they could overcome their differences. When I’d first become custodian of Abernathy’s, Ambrosites and Nicolliens had mingled freely on the premises without any more conflict than the occasional insult. Now, the Board of Neutralities had ruled the factions had to come to the store at different times, and even the Mercy’s devastating attacks on the South American nodes hadn’t done more than create a temporary cease fire.
“Don’t worry,” Malcolm said abruptly. “The plan is sound, and I don’t think the Wardens will be in any more danger than usual. The Mercy has no idea we’re coming.”
“Oh. You know I worry anyway.”
Malcolm took my hand and squeezed it. “This could represent a turning point in the Long War. If we can cut off the head of the snake, the body will wither and die.”
“But what will that mean for fighting invaders?”
He shook his head again, letting go of my hand. “I don’t know. We still don’t know how long the Mercy has been in existence. It’s possible they’ve been supporting invader attacks for longer than the factions have existed, in which case we should see some difference in how the invaders operate. But it might mean nothing more than eliminating one enemy.”
“Which would still be valuable,” I said.
“Of course.”
I laid my spoon in my empty bowl. “Maybe I need to talk to Lucia.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows went up. “About what?”
“About these auguries I received. They were in response to me wishing there was something I could do to help in the fight. And with the oracle acting preemptively all those times, I wonder if I’m not meant to participate in Lucia’s attack.”
Malcolm shook his head. “You’re no fighter. I refuse to believe the oracle would endanger its custodian by sending you into battle.”
“No, not that, but…my auguries are increasingly clear that the sports are meant to do something to fight the enemy. And Lucia knows better than me what that is.”
“True. But she’ll likely just tell you to stick to your job and let her do hers.”
“She needs all the information she can get. I think I should take that chance.”
Malcolm shook his head again, this time in resignation. “I just hate the idea of involving you in the war more directly.”
“Do you ever wish the war was over?”
“All the time, love.” Malcolm stood and began clearing the table. “Though I have trouble imagining what my life would be like if there was nothing left to hunt.”
“You’d still be a magus,” I pointed out as I picked up the salad bowl. “You could…” My voice trailed off. “You’re right, I have trouble imagining what else you might do with magic. Would people even still want magical security systems?”
“Probably, since those work against mundane threats too. I suppose I would eventually fall into new habits. And you wouldn’t have any more sleepless nights, waiting for me to return home.”
I blushed. “I thought you didn’t know about that.” Ever since we’d moved into this house, I’d had trouble falling asleep when I knew Malcolm was on the hunt.
“It makes sense, Helena. Hunting is dangerous work. But you’ve never tried to stop me, even though you hate it when I’m gone.”
I loaded our bowls into the dishwasher. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in your skills.”
“I know.” Malcolm finished scraping the rest of the stew into two plastic containers that would be my and Judy’s lunch tomorrow. “Your faith in me gives me strength.”
The look in his eyes, as if he saw right to my core, warmed me all over. “Let’s watch a movie,” I said. “Naked.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know how much movie watching will happen if we’re naked.”
I put my arms around him. “Then choose a boring movie.”
6
“Lucia,” I said to her voice mail, “I have an important augury to discuss with you. Call me.” I ended the call and shoved my phone into my pocket. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that Lucia screened her calls and answered them according to her own ideas of what was important. Today that habit made me want to scream. I’d studied the auguries last night, what was left of last night after some extremely satisfying sex, and I felt increasingly confident that the oracle wanted the sports to play some role in fighting the Mercy, or the invaders, or both. Whether that meant taking part in Lucia’s upcoming attack, I didn’t know. But I was sure Lucia would. If she ever called me back.
The store brightened as the sun temporarily came out from behind the clouds. The day was overcast, but in a patchy way that made the light dim and brighten as the clouds shifted. It felt like the sky was taunting me. It was one of those days where I craved sunlight. I propped my chin on my hands and watched the shadows on the street outside. At least it wasn’t raining.
Judy emerged from the stacks. “Lunchtime,” she said. “Unless you’re not done with the mail-in auguries.”
“No, they’re finished.” I nodded at the stack of books on the counter next to me. “We can pack them up after we eat.”
I hopped off the stool, making it wobble—I hadn’t been kidding about the need to replace the rest of Abernathy’s furniture—and followed Judy to the break room. I put my container of leftover beef stew in the microwave and watched it slowly revolve. The rich, meaty smell reminded me of my conversation with Malcolm the night before. “I wonder how things would change if the Long War was over,” I said.
“You mean, what would all those fighters do, or what would we do?” Judy replied. “In a way, I hope—no, that’s wrong. I want the war to be over and all the invaders gone. But the Long War gives the Wardens purpose, and if that were gone…it’s like how all those men came home from World War II and there weren’t enough jobs or housing. The war’s end would be hugely disruptive.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. Mostly I’d thought about what the magi would turn their magic to if it wasn’t fighting invaders.”
“And would they stop creating new magi?”
I hadn’t considered that, either. “No more magi.”
“And if there’s no more magi, is there any need for the nodes? Or the Neutralities?”
I tried to imagine Lucia out of a job, entering the private sector, so to speak, and my mind came up blank. At that moment, my phone rang. As if my thinking of her had conjured her up, it was Lucia. “Thanks for calling me back,” I said.
“I don’t have a lot of time, Davies. What’s this about an augury? Another unasked-for one? You aren’t supposed to read other people’s auguries.”
“This isn’t one for you. It’s an augury the oracle gave me.”
Lucia made a dismissive noise just shy of a snort. “Sounds like Abernathy’s is getting pushy. All right. What does your augury have to do with me?”
“Well…” I’d already discussed the auguries with others, but telling Lucia was different, if only because her irritated impatience was palpable even through the phone. “I…told the oracle—”
“You talk to the oracle?”
She sounded more surprised than disdainful, which heartened me. “Yes, sometimes. It doesn’t always pay attention, but now that I know it’s a living creature, it feels like the polite thing to do. Anyway, I told it I wanted to do something to help—”
“That astounds me in the sense that it’s no surprise. What next?”
“It gave me an augury. Do you know—did Mr. Wallach tell you about me? About the others like me?”
“He might have made a report which is filed with all the other reports on my desk. Why don’t you sum it up?”
Filed on my desk meant in a stack I’m ignoring. I suppressed a sigh—it felt like I’d told this story a hundred times before—and explained quickly how Wallach had confirmed that I was a genetic sport, how that meant I was immune to being drained by an invader, and that I’d identified others like me. “The augury says that the sports—me and the others like me—can help fight the invaders. Or are important to defeating them. It’s not clear on the specifics.”
“It does, huh?”
My heart sank, because Lucia’s tone of voice was entirely too familiar: slightly sarcastic, a little dismissive, and one hundred percent ready to end the call and move on. “It does. But you know more about the fight than I do. I was hoping you would understand what the augury means in practical terms.”
“Davies, you know I don’t disregard the oracle. But in this case, I have no idea what use I’d make of a handful of people, most of whom know nothing about the Long War or magic or Wardens, whose sole advantage is an immunity every wood and steel magus has. Or do those magical talents have more usefulness than you suggest?”
