It was tempting to try it in the light of day, for the unexpectedness of it, but in the end, I reluctantly admitted that midnight was best. I couldn’t afford to lose the power of the night. This was going to be tricky enough as it was.
Fortunately, the remade Petrana was even easier to access and manipulate than she had been the first time around. And we’d been working with each other long enough, and intimately enough, that I found her magical channels a cinch to explore and set my senses in.
Since only warlocks worked at the manufactory, I dressed her in dark robes, bound her hair in a tail behind her, and laid the appear-ance of a dull, middle-aged, middle-powered warlock on her, then added a big ole deflection spell on top of that. If this worked, the eye would slide off her just like mine had off Helios in the Spanish Market.
If not…well, I’d figure that out when the time came.
“I’m not sure about this,” Helios whispered to me. We stood in the woods about a half-mile from the old, original Grand Laurel Merenoc building, staring at my golem. Or trying to stare at her; the deflection spell was working really well.
“I’m not sure about anything,” I told him, “except for the fact that if we do nothing, more witches—maybe even more warlocks—are going to die. Or whatever that is, that isn’t even death.”
He gave a shiver, nodding, biting his lip.
“Just do like we practiced,” I told him, encouragingly. “You’re taking some expired supplies to put in storage. You carry a pile of boxes out there, put them in the building, leave the door unlocked, walk away. Petrana comes in after you’re gone, and looks around, with my guidance. If we find anything suspicious, she either carries it out herself, or she comes and gets us and we decide what to do from there.”
“I know, I know.” He paced back and forth in the dim, silvery moonlight. “I just…have a bad feeling about this.”
“You don’t have to help me any more,” I told him, seriously. “You’ve already done plenty. I can…figure something out from here.” I was already thinking about just having Petrana bust into the building. She was strong, she didn’t feel pain…
“No, I’m in this,” Helios said, standing a bit taller. Somehow, he’d reached in for his emotional bootstraps and given them a tug. “Can we check the lines of communication one last time?”
“Sure, but the less we use them, the less likely we are to be detected.”
“I know.”
But I’m happy to test them again, I sent him.
Thanks. He smiled at me. And the golem?
Petrana, please send us both a message, I said.
Yes, Mistress Callie, Dr. Spinnaker. What would you like me to send?
That will do.
I turned back to Helios. “Okay?”
He rolled his shoulders up and down, loosening some tension. “And you’re sure the baby won’t cry?”
“I’m not sure of anything in life, but she hasn’t yet.”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard her cry all day. That’s why I asked—she’s bound to get fussy sooner or later.”
“No, I mean she hasn’t yet, ever, in her life.”
Helios gave me a puzzled look. “That’s…weird. Isn’t it?”
“Extremely weird,” I said lightly. “I’m trying not to worry about it, and I really don’t want to get all focused on it right now, okay?”
“Okay, sorry!” He gave me a sheepish grin. “I’m just—nervous, is all.”
“Yeah. Of course you are. I am too.”
“You don’t look nervous.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been through a lot lately. Believe me, I’m all jumbled up inside.”
“Oh, well, that’s good then.” We shared an awkward smile, and I patted him on the shoulder.
“Go on,” I finally said. “It’s chilly; I don’t want to stand here all night. Get going.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And my golem and a young Old Country warlock I’d met twenty-four hours ago slipped off into the night.
The first thing that happened was a bunch of waiting. I opened my vision to watch the channel through Petrana’s eyes, though I didn’t want to ride her too much. It took energy, and there was a slim chance my presence would be detectable through her. So I just peeked through to make sure it was working. She walked toward the unused building and stayed hidden in some trees a few dozen yards away from the back door.
Any passive protection wards or spells would have triggered if a warlock, witch, or even human walked across the boundary, but Petrana was not alive, so she didn’t register as much as even a deer would have.
At least, that was what I was counting on. If a warlock were actively guarding the building for some obscure reason, he would see with his plain old eyes that something was not as it should be.
So here was hoping that didn’t happen.
Mostly, I paced quietly around the little patch of the woods Helios and I had decided was a safe (or safe-ish) place to wait: outside the Grand Laurel Merenoc property, not under open sky, not near any significant ley lines. It was indeed chilly, and I was indeed nervous. If I kept moving, I kept Rosemary entertained and myself warmer, and burned off some anxious energy in the process.
Elnor hated it, though. She wanted more than anything for me to sit down and make a lap. I could tell this by the way she swiped a claw-laden paw every time I passed the rock she was sitting on.
“Sorry, kitty,” I said to her, dodging so she wouldn’t scratch me again. She was going to ruin my new snaky pants if she kept this up. “I guess I should have left you in the hotel.”
She gave a low hiss and turned to look into the dark woods, as if suddenly detecting an approaching bear.
“You could have snoozed on the bed this whole time. But no, you wanted to come along.” At least, I was presuming that she’d wanted to, by the way she was not letting me step more than two feet away from her. “Life is full of hardships, and we all have to live with the consequences of our decisions.”
And now I’m lecturing to my cat, I thought. Great life choices.
I did send my witch-sight to following her gaze, though. I mean, I was pretty sure there was no bear there.
But wouldn’t it be inconvenient if there was?
I am heading out to the building now, Helios sent me.
I sprang to alertness. Good. Keep me posted when you can.
He didn’t answer, which was fine—we were keeping communication to a minimum, after all; I shouldn’t even have answered him.
I see the warlock, Petrana sent me, a few minutes later.
Good. I opened my visual channel to her again, briefly, just to take a peek. Yes, there was Helios, carrying an armload of boxes. He walked up to the front door of the building, shifted the boxes to one hip, and did something with his hands—probably the spell to unlock it—before opening the door and going inside. I left the visual channel, though I so wanted to keep watching.
Then, more waiting. A little breeze came up, making me realize how nice it had been when the wind wasn’t blowing. Ha, I’d thought it was cold before. I was dressed warmly, but it felt like I was wearing gauze; the icy breeze wasn’t strong, but it chilled me to the core.
Apparently that smart witch who’d solved the climate in Balszt hadn’t seen fit to bestow the same favor on the ’burbs.
I paced around faster and considered using some power to heat up my core, but I didn’t want to waste any in case I needed it later. But I would if Rose needed it. I put a hand on the top of her head, under the little cap I’d bought for her in one of the markets near my hotel. Nope, she was still toasty-warm.
Lucky witchlet.
Mistress Callie, more warlocks approach, came Petrana’s terse warning.
What? I opened the channel again.
Four robed figures approached the building’s front door.
Who are they? I sent to Petrana.
I do not know.
Stay hidden.
Yes, Mistress Callie.
I watched as they tested the door—finding it unspelled, unlocked?—opened it, and went inside.
Helios, I sent, hoping this wasn’t a terrible idea. But he would need the warning. Four warlocks just walked in. Watch out.
Did he not answer because he was trying to keep a low profile, or because he was in trouble?
I couldn’t stand it. I had to stand it. The worst thing I could do right now would be to rush in there and screw everything up. I had to trust that Helios could handle himself, that he knew what he was doing. He worked here; he almost certainly knew those dudes. We had planned for this. He was taking boxes to the storehouse, and storing them there, no big whoop. We’d even discussed his taking stuff that was random and unrelated, so that he’d have an excuse to spend more time in the storehouse, to poke around in several different rooms. He could talk his way out of this.
I paced, and fretted. I just wished Helios wasn’t so young, so nervous. If they confronted him, his guilt would be written all over his face.
Out of my hands. Nothing I could do. I rocked my baby and hummed under my breath. Why didn’t I know more lullabies? What was I thinking, having a baby and not knowing more lullabies?
As a distraction, fretting about lullabies lasted roughly four point seven seconds.
I opened my visual channel to Petrana again. What’s going on? I asked her, as we stared at a dark building in the middle of the night.
Nothing, she replied. No one has emerged. I have heard no sounds. Would you like me to go inside?
I hissed out a frustrated, anxious breath. Not yet.
Should I send another message to Helios?
Whose stupid idea was this anyway?
Without my consciously having decided to do so, I realized I’d walked a little closer to the property boundary. I couldn’t see it visually, but I could feel the energy of the spells guarding the place. I’d searched for them before, and set my attention to remain aware of them.
I stopped, well shy of the border line.
Well, I didn’t know for a fact that it would alert someone to my presence if I stepped over it…
Yes, yes I did. I mean, not a fact per se, but a more-than-reason-able assumption. Dr. Mar had met me upon my arrival at the company last night, hadn’t he? I hadn’t even had to knock on the door. Clearly, they knew when intruders stepped onto the property.
It’s what any magical company harboring deadly secret crimes would do.
More minutes had dragged by. Still nothing? I asked Petrana.
Still nothing.
Helios was in trouble. I just knew he was. I had to get in there and…what? Save him? What could I do against four Old Country warlocks? For all I knew, they were as powerful as Gregorio Andromedus, or even more so. What was I going to do, march in there with my baby strapped to my chest and smite them down with my mighty maternal mojo?
Elnor bumped against my heel. Right, I thought. My mighty maternal mojo and my fearsomely ferocious familiar.
Helios, I sent, before I could talk myself out of it. What’s going on?
No response.
I took a few steps back, and sent my magic very tentatively out, opening my witch-sight to its fullest, taking the measure of every single magical thread in the vicinity. The boundary spell glowed a dim blue, passive and quiet. It didn’t contain a lot of power. I looked more closely at it. Did it repel, or only detect-and-report? I couldn’t tell for certain, but it looked just like detection.
I tested it, sending a tiny flicker of magic at it. A thread thrummed, then went still. Nothing sparked, nothing bounced back on me.
Okay, detection; and I’d committed myself, so that’s how I forced myself to walk in there, behind my own back.
“Come on, Elnor,” I said, marching forward across the boundary spell. I felt its inquisitive magic brush over my skin, and I told myself that by the time anyone came out to deal with me, I’d have found what I was looking for anyway and it wouldn’t matter. And that I could brazen my way through—whatever.
As I walked past where Petrana was lurking, she said, “Mistress Callie, what are you doing?”
“I’m going in there,” I told her, though it must have been obvious. “He’s in trouble and he’s not answering.” Before she could ask me the same questions I’d asked myself about just what I was planning to do about it, I added, “Stay out here and—guard the entrance.”
“Yes, of course, but I believe the danger is within.”
Uppity golem.
“If I’m not out in five minutes, then come in.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.”
“And if you’re challenged—go for help.”
“I will.”
I walked up to the building, where I spent several precious seconds debating whether to try the back door that Helios was supposed to leave unlocked for me, or just go in the front. Might as well try, I told myself, and headed around back.
Locked, and spelled.
“Well, crap,” I whispered. Front door it was.
I went the other way around the building, in case there was any other entrance I’d missed, but no luck. Then I was back at the front door. It was much less prepossessing than the current headquarters, more like a smallish warehouse.
I put my hand right over the doorknob, seeing whether I could sense any spells or traps. Nothing. So I opened it and stepped inside, closing it softly behind me.
I stood in a vast, empty space; it looked to be roughly half the size of the building. It was indeed used for storage—I saw old, decommissioned equipment, parts, and stacks of cardboard boxes nearly to the ceiling. Bits of trash littered the floor, and the space was pretty dark, lit only by candles in sconces set irregularly around the huge room.
What I did not see were any people—not Helios, not the four warlocks in dark robes.
I held my breath, listening as hard as I could, but I heard nothing. At my feet, Elnor’s nose twitched. “Check around,” I told her, and she started sniffing in a near corner. Even in the dim light, I could see her tail sticking straight up in the air and her back arched, her fur fluffed up so that she appeared almost twice her size. Full alert.
I took a few tentative steps forward, keeping my footfalls as silent as I could. When this didn’t produce any response, I opened my magical senses, seeking for signs of life in the building.
There: near the back, but it was blurry. I couldn’t get a count. They were hiding their natures, and their numbers.
This didn’t surprise me; what I found hardest to understand was why they weren’t more protected. They were obviously up to no good, and Helios was clearly in trouble. But it smacked of typical warlock arrogance for the four to have come in here, not locked the door, and put the barest of shields over themselves.
Kind of like not really warding the property.
Elnor had reached the right-hand wall, or as near as she could come to it, around all the boxes and parts and dead machines. She remained on high alert. “Come on, kitten,” I whispered to her. “They’re in the back.”
She followed me as I walked across the gloomy, dusty room toward a small doorway at the far end. I rested a hand on my daughter’s head. She was looking around with wide eyes, keeping utterly silent. As (almost) always.
A faint light showed through the doorway, growing a little brighter as I approached. My eyes adjusted, but I still walked slowly, not knowing what I was going to see through that doorway. I knew I was coming closer to the living beings in here—whoever they were, however many of them there were.
I got to just this side of the doorway and stopped. Elnor took another step, peering around the corner, and went even more rigid than she had been before.
This was not good.
I took a deep breath, swallowed some sudden spit in my mouth, and stepped forward.
The door opened into a much smaller room than the first one, but still fairly large. It was almost entirely empty—no boxes, no old equipment.
In the center of the room lay a very dead man.
I knew he was dead, because of the ten tall swords piercing his back. Pinning him to the floor. Blood pooled around the motionless body. The resemblance to the Ten of Swords tarot card could not be accidental: this was a message. A ritual murder, a most gruesome one.
I knew who he was. It was Helios, it had to be. He was wearing the same clothes Helios had been dressed in. His body was the same size. Who else would it be?
All this tumbled over me in an instant. I stifled a gasp and just stood there, heart pounding, stomach sick. I didn’t realize I’d put my hand to my mouth and nose until I started missing breathing. I pulled my trembling hand down and dragged in a breath, and made myself walk up to the body.
Now I could see the side of his head, part of his face; and yes, it was poor Helios Spinnaker, an expression of surprise and dismay forever frozen on his face. “Oh, Blessed Mother,” I whispered, bending down to look more closely. “I am so, so sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, witch,” came a cold voice from the far end of the room.
I shot back to standing, nearly wrenching my back in the process (having forgotten the baby weight strapped to my chest) and throwing a protection spell around me, Rosemary, and Elnor with my left hand.
The four warlocks who stood across the room from me lifted their left hands in unison. The one on the end closest to me—the one who had spoken—sneered and said, “You dare to challenge the Iron Rose?”
Then they flung a blast of power at me so hard, it blasted my protection spell apart and knocked me to the floor.
I landed hard on my back, all the wind knocked out of me. Rosemary gave a little surprised whoop, but she still did not cry. Instead, she sent me Strong again, and then Bad.
Yeah, hon, these are very bad guys, I thought to her, almost too surprised to be terrified. Also I was struggling for breath. I guessed adrenaline would come in a minute; right now, all my thoughts were moving in eerily calm slow motion.
The warlocks—the Iron Rose warlocks!—walked over to me. The one who had spoken, yes, it was Dr. Mar, just as I’d begun to suspect. He peered down at me as I gasped like a fish out of water, a look of bored disdain on his face. Then he turned to one of his companions. “Put her in the cellar.”
The second warlock reached out with his right hand, and consciousness left me.
I came back to awareness in a dark, nasty, cold, stinky little room. I had a moment of panic before my hands found Rosemary, still strapped to me, and still breathing. A second check told me Elnor was beside me. She was out cold, but also still breathing.
“Whoo,” I exhaled, and pulled myself to a seated position. There wasn’t much room to move around down here—the ceiling was low, it was a cellar indeed—but I scooted over to the wall and leaned against it, so I could take stock.
Helios Spinnaker was dead, clearly killed because he meddled in the business of the Iron Rose. Because he was searching for the souls that Gregorio Andromedus—and who knew how many others—had extracted from unsuspecting witches and warlocks, after draining them of their essence.
Or killed because he was simply asking questions, raising doubts. Surely they knew. Surely, if the Iron Rose was involved in this essence-stealing scheme, it was far larger and more organized than I’d suspected.
Poor Helios.
So why hadn’t they killed me too?
Because they know who you are, my brain told me. Helios was just a young warlock studying to be a scientist. I was…
Who was I?
I was the daughter of a middlingly accomplished new world researcher and a young witch in her first union. I was the inamorata (maybe) of the son of Gregorio Andromedus. I was well-known enough in my own community, and a thorn in the side of my coven, but not especially famous or important or anything, even in San Francisco.
I was the mother of a half-breed daughter, but then, did they know that?
I was the witch who’d built her own freaking golem…and then rebuilt her, stronger and more supple than ever.
With this thought, I realized that far more than five minutes had to have gone by since I’d told Petrana to come in after me—or to go for help. We’d spent at least five minutes sniffing around the first room; something must have kept her from coming in.
Petrana will save us, I thought, sending the words to both myself and to Rosemary. She gave a little giggle—oh thank the Blessed Mother, she was awake.
“Oh, sweetie,” I whispered to her, rocking her gently. “You’re okay, tell me you’re okay?”
Strong, she sent again.
What did she mean by that, exactly? “You’re strong? Is that what you’re telling me? Of course you are. Or do you want me to be strong? I’m working on it.” I knew her words would be limited. I was just glad she had any at all.
And I was so glad she didn’t seem to be harmed.
Now to get in touch with my golem. I began by trying to reopen the channel between us, to see out of her eyes once more. But that line was blocked.
I was only a little surprised; Petrana would have severed it prior to going for help, and she might even have been clever enough to cut it before sneaking—or bursting—into the building. Any magical connection leaves a trace of itself, which was how I’d managed to see the boundary spells here (not that that had done me any good).
Ætheric communication, however, was something else entirely. Petrana, I sent. Where are you?
There was a pause. I almost tried again, but then got an answer: I have gone back to the city for help. When you did not emerge in five minutes, I tried to enter, but the way was blocked.
Wow, the city; enterprising. Okay, that’s great. Listen, I’m being held captive, and Helios…met with a bad end. These are warlocks of the Iron Rose, so I don’t know how much help is going to, um, help right now.
What do you want me to do?
I thought about it a minute. I sure wished I knew more about the Iron Rose, about who was involved and what their true aims were. I didn’t know who I could trust. Everyone back in Balszt had been really friendly, but…Can you come back here for now? I don’t know who you should go to, is the issue.
Another pause. I had thought to start with the helpful desk clerk at The Majestic, she said. Magrit.
She is very helpful, I allowed, but what if she’s a supporter of the Iron Rose? A collaborator? Stranger things had happened in the world.
That is a good point. I will come back to Zchellenin, and let you know when I arrive.
Good. A noise overhead pulled my attention back to the room I was in. I’m going to go now—when you get here, don’t send me a message; I’ll contact you when it’s safe.
Then I cut the connection.
Footsteps, that’s what I heard—footsteps on stairs, most likely. I hoped they hadn’t noticed the ætheric communication going back and forth. But if they did, would it matter?
I told myself it wouldn’t. That in fact they would assume I would seek outside the building for help; it would be weird not to.
That’s as far as I got when Dr. Mar entered the room, followed by his three cronies or whatever they were. They had their hoods pulled so low over their faces, they looked like extras in a cheesy 1970s horror movie.
Naturally, I did not speak this thought aloud. I just met Dr. Mar’s eyes as he stepped in, and did not get to my feet.
“My apologies for detaining you,” he started.
I raised an eyebrow. Beside me, Elnor stirred awake, and moved to sit right next to my thigh, glaring at them.
“My colleagues and I have been discussing the matter,” Dr. Mar went on, when I didn’t give a verbal answer. “You will be pleased to know that we have decided not to kill you.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you.”
His eyes narrowed at my sarcasm. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. We would be well within our rights to do so.”
“You were out of swords?” Oh, stop it, Callie, I told myself. No one likes a smartass.
Smart, Rosemary sent me.
Trying to cover my surprise, I jiggled her a little, then did my best to smile up at the looming warlocks. “Sorry,” I added. “I tend to babble when I’m nervous.”
“You are forgiven. But please do keep a civil tongue. Several of my colleagues were in favor of eliminating you, as we were forced to do with the unfortunate Dr. Spinnaker.”
I just nodded, making a big effort to keep quiet. But that only made it more frightening. Mouthing off had been a way of venting the absolute panic I felt. If they wanted to kill you, they’d have done so, I reminded myself. I petted Elnor’s back, trying to let the softness of her fur calm me.
“But I argued for compassion. After all, you are a young witch with a new child, and healthy younglings are rare enough in our society that we cannot afford to be dispatching them every time they stray into our business.”
I shook my head. Nope, you sure can’t afford that, nope.
“However, the question remains: what to do with you?
What, indeed? I wondered.
“You have come here, to our country, to our enterprise, asking questions which do not concern you, showing very little comprehension of our culture and our ways. Despite being a witch, you are behaving as though you were human.” He gave a little shake of his head, and was his lip curling up just the tiniest bit? Oh, how dreadful to be acting like a human.
Asshole, I thought.
He couldn’t read my mind, but he was surely seeing the expression on my face. “What you will do, Calendula Isadora, is walk out of this building. You will return to Balszt and begin preparations to go home immediately, and you will never speak of what you have seen here to anyone, ever.”
Holy Blessed Mother, what? I got to my feet, only swaying a little, grabbing Elnor on the way up. She didn’t even squawk. “Yes, absolutely, I will do that. No worries. Thanks.”
“And what we will do,” he went on, as though I hadn’t spoken, “is ensure that you will hold up your end of the bargain.” Now his ugly old face cracked a small smile. I didn’t like that smile. Not one bit.
“What…how?” I asked, my head filling with examples of the dreadful magic that Jeremy and I had performed on Flavius Winterheart. The innocent Flavius Winterheart. We’d cauterized his very magic out of him. Had these monsters perfected some sort of…silencing procedure?
Dr. Mar’s smile grew. “Oh, nothing that you need to worry about. In fact, soon it will be as though all this never happened.” He turned to his cronies. “Come, let us take her upstairs.”
Two of the robed warlocks stepped forward, as if to bodily haul me along. “I’m coming, no need to manhandle me,” I said, stepping out of their reach.
Dr. Mar shrugged. “Fine. Do not step out of line. You will stay with us.”
Petrana’s voice came into my head, faint but real: Here.
I didn’t even get mad at her for disobeying my orders. I just sent her an immediate message back: Stand by. Don’t answer.
She didn’t.
We returned to the first floor of the building, continuing down the passageway leading off from the room where Helios’s body still lay, pinned to the floor by those dreadful swords. Not much time had passed; his blood still looked fresh, and it hadn’t spread much. I swallowed and looked away.
Dr. Mar led me to a small room. In it was a chair, with straps on the arms and a silver helmet-like device at the top. It looked for all the world like an electric chair, except without the electricity.
“What’s that?” I blurted out.
The old warlock smiled proudly. “It will not hurt a bit, as the old saying goes. It merely…sorts through your memories and removes particular ones. Particular inconvenient ones.”
“Wait, what? You guys need a machine for that?” I was so bemused, I almost forgot to be afraid for a moment. Why, I’d fogged a whole evening out of Raymond’s mind not all that long ago. Of course, he was just a human, but still.
“We do if we want calibration. Measurability. Precision.” He waved a hand dismissively. “This is much more effective, and much more permanent, than just a ‘forget-this’ charm.”
And much more damaging, obviously. Fog could be cleared; a burnt-away memory was gone forever. Now my dread returned. I couldn’t let them do this to me. They’re going to suck my memories out of my head with a machine! I sent to Petrana.
Shall I break in?
I thought wildly. Even a golem was no match for four powerful warlocks. They would just break her, and then return to breaking me.
No! Stay outside. But…here.
In a mad mental rush, I sent her everything I knew of everything that had gone on here. Helios’s murder. What this awful device looked like. As much as I could glean from the other warlocks. “How does it do that?” I asked Dr. Mar, both stalling for time and genuinely curious, baffled even. “Does it read minds?”
“Not in the sense that you are undoubtedly thinking,” he said, looking proud. “But particular thoughts and emotions make specific patterns in the brain. With much laborious research, and much trial and error, we have found a way to remove particular…subjects, shall we say, from the brain. Particular concerns. Then, it is a simple matter to apply spells to cover the gaps convincingly. To write a new story, as it were.” He smiled. It was not a pretty smile.
“Why didn’t you just do that to Helios?” I kept my ætheric channel to Petrana open, thinking my words at her too, sending her everything I could. “Why did you have to kill him?”
Dr. Mar sighed. “Of course, we did try this route. More than once. But he just kept wondering…kept returning to his questions. Questions which were no business of his. We could not disable his underlying inquisitiveness without destroying his mind entirely—and then he would have been useless as a researcher.” The warlock shook his head sadly. “He was just too curious. And you know what they say about curiosity.”
I clutched Elnor closer. “Yes, I do.”
Behind Dr. Mar, two of the silent warlocks shifted, clearly growing impatient. Wanting, no doubt, to haul me onto that machine and strap me in.
I needed to get more information out to Petrana. “Do you keep the souls in this building here?” I blurted out.
The old warlock looked at me with a hint of surprise on his face. “Souls?”
“The ones that Dr. Gregorio Andromedus stole from dozens of witches and warlocks, when he was also stealing their essence—for whatever nefarious reasons he had for doing that. With one of your devices.”
“I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“But you do.” I glanced back at the robed figures behind him. I didn’t have much longer. “I saw the bodies, back in Berkeley. He’s stashed them in the basement of the library building, right next to the extracting machine. The one that Helios Spinnaker told me he’d help build. He told me everything.”
I knew that was too much even as I said it. Dr. Mar’s face hardened. “That is enough,” he said, turning to his confederates. “Put her in the chair.” Then he looked at me with a grim smile. “But thank you for laying out your concerns so specifically. It will make the process easier.”
The two warlocks who had been fidgeting sprang forward and grabbed my arms, one on each side. Elnor hissed and swiped at the one she could reach. He cursed and dropped my arm, then reached back to strike her. I let go of her and she sprang to the floor and darted into the far corner, still hissing. “Elnor! Don’t,” I cautioned her.
The warlock she’d scratched looked undecided for a moment about whether to go after her or take hold of me. He settled on grabbing me again and glaring at her. Fine. I’d rather lose my memory than my familiar.
Both warlocks started hauling me toward the chair. I resisted, but not hard; I had no idea how I could overpower or outwit them all. All I could do was keep feeding Petrana everything I knew, everything that was happening. Close down the link when they start, I told her. I didn’t want anything of what they were doing to me to make its way to her.
We were in front of the chair now. They yanked me around and pushed me down into it. I landed hard, jarring my tailbone. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
On my chest, Rosemary gave a sudden shriek. “BA!” It was the loudest sound I’d ever heard out of her. All four warlocks jumped; I wanted to rub my ears, but my two captors were already strapping my arms down. “BAAA!” she yelled again.
“Shut that child up,” Dr. Mar said. The or else was strongly implied.
“I don’t control her!” I wailed. “She’s an infant!” If I didn’t want to lose my familiar, you can probably guess how I felt about my daughter.
“You can speak to her mind,” he said, dismissively. “All witch mothers can.”
Sweetie don’t antagonize them! I sent to her, near panic. We’re going to be okay. Just bear with me. I couldn’t even rock her or cuddle her or pat her head; I was now immobilized in the chair. The warlock goons pulled the headpiece down.
Remember, I swear she said back, but that couldn’t have been; she hadn’t articulated such a complex notion to me yet, and it was quite unlikely that she would start now. Then she added, Strong, which at least she’d said before.
Be strong, I thought, to her and to Petrana and to myself. And even to Elnor, backed in the corner across the room, looking at me—and my captors—with such fierce intensity. If looks could kill, we’d be waltzing out of here right now, stepping over four dead bodies.
But they couldn’t, and we didn’t. Instead, Dr. Mar went to a panel on the wall and pushed a few buttons.
Then he turned and gave me that ugly smile again. “As I said before, this will not hurt a bit.”