Game Of Cages (2010) (32 page)

Annalise sighed. "Let me show you my identification," she said. She reached into her jacket.

"Boss--" I was suddenly afraid for Balding's life. But Annalise pulled out a white ribbon and showed him the sigil on the bottom. Balding suddenly closed his eyes and turned his back on us. Then he stretched out on the road and went to sleep.

She frowned up at me. "Did you think I was going to kill him?" We started walking again.

I glanced back at Kripke. He was watching me, his face pale and sweaty in the chilly morning air. He turned around and went back inside.

Catherine started to follow us.

"What did I hear about a spell?" Annalise asked. All trace of the tiny smile she'd greeted me with was gone. "You didn't ransom that investigator--"

"No," I said. "No way. I know better. I gave him a fake." I explained how I set up the arson, then got Yin to believe me when it came time to give him the spell.

Annalise nodded but still didn't smile. "That's all right, for this time. But don't do it again. People do crazy things for spells, Ray. If word started to spread that someone bartered with you for a spell, it could cause trouble for you."

I could imagine. "Gotcha. Can I ask a question?"

Information shared is information leaked. But Annalise turned to me and said: "You've earned it. Go ahead."

"Is Zahn a primary, whatever that is? Are you?"

"That's more than one question, but okay. No, Zahn isn't a primary. He's a quaternary, at best, but probably isn't even that high. And before you ask, I'm a senary. Now I'm guessing you want to know what that means."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"There are only three real spell books in the world. They're the source of all the magic on the planet, but they don't have any actual spells in them. They're also not really books, but never mind that. When you read one, you have visions. Dreams."

She fell silent for a moment. "After the visions are over," she continued, "the primary writes them down as clearly as possible, and that becomes what most of these idiots think of as a spell book."

We turned the corner. Annalise's battered Dodge Sprinter stood on the shoulder of the road. I was glad to see it again. I said: "So, if the primary passes the written-out spell book--one named after him, like, Mowbray Book of Oceans, to an apprentice, that apprentice becomes a secondary."

"Right."

"And the secondary casts the same spells, but they're weaker. Because, I guess, you can't pass on a vision to another person without having it change a little."

This time Annalise did smile, just a bit. "Very good."

"And the Twenty Palace Society doesn't have those three original spell books anymore, so you've been slowly losing power."

"We had two, but that's right. Several centuries ago, they were stolen. It's an ugly part of our history."

We reached the van. Annalise gave me the keys, and I got behind the wheel. It was just like old times.

Except I wasn't thrilled the way I had been when Catherine picked me up. It wasn't an adventure anymore. It was a job. An ugly job. I couldn't understand how I'd been so excited to come back to it a few days ago. "Are more peers coming?" I asked.

"No. Why would they?"

"First Pratt, then you--"

"Pratt was assigned by the peers. He won't be replaced until his death is confirmed."

"Then why did you come, boss?"

"Because I'm checking on you, Ray. You're my wooden man. You belong to me."

Catherine pulled the driver's door open. "Are you going to leave me behind?"

"Yes," Annalise answered.

"You can't. Not after all this."

"Hey," I said, "what happened to this is not part of my job?"

"I can't walk away from all this," she said. "Not now. All these years that I've been snooping around, making a phone call and then bugging out. I've been hiding, making the easy choice.... Last night, with the horses and that little girl ... and I was watching those people set up for their festival, but I couldn't feel anything at all because of the ghost knife. They were working so hard in the dark and the cold--sometimes stopping to hold someone while they cried.

"But I couldn't feel anything, not until I woke up this morning when the effect had worn off. I haven't ... God, that little girl apologized for hiding. I can't walk away from that. I need to do the right damn thing. Again."

Annalise leaned across the center of the van toward Catherine. "Will you be my wooden man?"

I mouthed No! "You're already an investigator. A good one."

Catherine frowned at me. "Pratt was a quinary, wasn't he? And Zahn killed him."

"Pratt was an arrogant ass," Annalise said. "He thought everyone would tremble at the sight of his big hat and long coat. I'm not as precious. And I have help."

"I want to help, too. I won't be a wooden man, but I'll do what you ask me to do."

"Get in," Annalise said.

I unbuckled and slid out of the driver's seat to let Catherine sit there. I gave her the keys. While she started the engine, I sat on the deck. The van was cold and my clothes were still wet.

"Ray, you've been to the cabin before?" Catherine asked. I gave her directions, and in a few moments we were on our way.

Annalise said: "Zahn isn't the only dangerous one here. Issler is trouble, too."

"Who's Issler?" I asked.

"Zahn's tattooed bodyguard. He's good. Three years ago, he took a hand off a full peer."

"A peer?" Catherine said. "Wow."

No one spoke again for a while. I thought about how close I'd come to killing him on the steps outside the Wilbur house. Things might have been simpler if I had succeeded. Or maybe not. At least I was going to get another chance.

I looked out the back window and saw a boy standing in the open doorway of a house. He was looking up and down the street, and I was pretty sure I knew what he was searching for. I hoped someone would call Sherisse about him soon.

"Is there a plan, boss?"

"Yes," Annalise said. "Catherine is going to drop us off at the entrance to the property, then drive into town to look for the predator."

Catherine stared at her. "Is that really what you want me to do?"

Annalise grunted. "When I brought Ray in, I had hours to put spells on him and prepare him to face a full sorcerer. With you, I have five minutes. You're not ready. You're still as soft as Jell-O."

Annalise looked back at me. "Here's our part of the plan. We sneak up on the cabin and kill Zahn and his people."

"I'm not sure I can remember all the steps," I said. "You know what would be useful? An Apache helicopter."

"Some peers use military equipment overseas. It draws too much attention in the U.S."

We were at the turnoff. Catherine slowed to a stop, and Annalise and I piled out.

"My cell is off," Annalise said. "If you find the predator, leave me a message. Use the one in the glove compartment."

Catherine opened the glove compartment, took a slender cellphone out, and dropped it into her pocket. "Can I try to kill it?" she asked.

"Sure, after you've left the message. Try not to get killed unless you can make it count."

I stepped back into the doorway and set the sawed-off shotgun on the passenger seat for her. Just in case. I closed the door and she drove off.

"What if Zahn already has the sapphire dog? What if both of them are up there?"

"What do you think?"

"Kill them both. I get it. But what if I have to choose?"

She stopped and stared at me. "Nervous, Ray? Asking questions you already know the answer to isn't going to make this easier. Now shut up. I don't know if Zahn has extra-sensitive hearing or not."

We started up the muddy drive. Of course I knew the answer to my own question: the sorcerer summoned predators, so he was top of the hit list. At least, that's how I saw it.

I was surprised that no one had strung police tape across the drive. I'd heard Steve call the state cops, although I was a little fuzzy on what he'd said. Still, considering what had happened, the National Guard should have been marching through.

Instead, there was only us.

I didn't care about Yin or his people. They were assholes. I did care about that housekeeper. She'd been murdered right in front of my eyes, and there was no one but me to make that right.

But this was a problem. I was the one who needed to believe the person I was going after was a murderer or worse. I was the one who needed more than "knows magic" as a reason to kill someone.

That wasn't the job I had come here to do. I wasn't here to kill a murderer; I was here to kill a sorcerer. Knowing he had killed, too, made this one job easier for me. But the next time--

"Your mind is clear, right?" Annalise asked.

"Absolutely." I forced myself to imagine the cabin and the land around it. I still wasn't sure Merpati was being straight with us about Zahn staying there. Somehow, I didn't think he was bedding down in the ski aisle.

I walked along the center of the path where the ground was relatively dry. All I could hear was the sound of my breathing, the wind rustling the trees, and our squelching footsteps. We were almost at the top of the drive when fat, wet snowflakes began to fall.

The BMWs and the Maybach were still in place. I kept low while I headed toward Yin's cars, leaving Annalise to slip into the underbrush.

The snowflakes melted on contact with the cabin windows, distorting the view inside, but I wasn't interested in the cabin. The second car had a strip of gray cloth hanging out of the trunk. I was certain it hadn't been there when I'd passed through last night.

The key for this car was probably on one of the dead gunmen. Assuming they were still inside, there was no way I was going to search them all unless I had to. And I didn't. I slid the ghost knife back and forth until it cut the latch. The trunk opened.

I loved my little spell.

Inside, I found empty halogen floodlight packages along with a car battery wired to an AC adapter and a three-pronged plug.

It had to be part of a carrier for the sapphire dog. The real question was simple: Where was the cage itself? I hoped Steve didn't have it. He'd be tempted to use it, and nothing good would come of that.

Or did Issler--I had to get used to thinking of Tattoo by that name--and Zahn have it? More important, were they still here, and could we kill them in their sleep?

I backed away from the trunk. It couldn't be closed again, so I left it up. That was a good thing, though. I was the wooden man. It was my job to draw attention to myself so Annalise could attack from behind.

I strolled back to the cars and the front of the cabin, doing my best to fake a casual calm I didn't feel. Issler might be aiming a gun at me from one of those darkened windows, or Zahn might have sent him to fetch the lightning rod.

Or maybe they were sitting in the back office playing cards. Why didn't I ever imagine good things?

I stepped up onto the wooden porch and tried the doorknob. The door wasn't locked. It swung inward, letting sunlight into the darkened store.

The smell had gotten worse--the door and windows had been shut for hours, letting the stink of blood, shit, and spoiling meat seep into everything. I flicked on the light switch by the door and saw that the bodies were still there. Steve had pulled camping blankets off the shelves to cover them, but no one had come to take them away.

What the hell did it take to get help in this town?

I looked around. Zahn and Issler were not napping among the dead. I went into the office. The interesting goosenecked lamp was on, which was strange, but there was no one there. I went out the back door and flicked on the porch light. Yin was covered with a heavy tarp weighted down at the edges with skis.

I shooed away the crows that were trying to get under there, and if the squawking they gave me didn't draw enemy fire, there was no fire to be drawn.

Annalise came out of the underbrush. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," I answered.

She stepped up onto the porch. "You came through the building pretty quickly. You checked the second floor, too?"

"There is no second floor," I said.

She gave me a funny look and went into the office. "What do you call that?" She pointed at the wall.

"A wall." If it had been anyone else, I would have thought she was joking. She gave me a funny look again, then her brow smoothed as if she'd had an idea. She went to the wall.

Whatever. The light over the desk was still on, which I still thought was strange. Something about the light was-—

Wood cracked and splintered. I spun around, startled, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off me.

Annalise was standing beside a flight of wooden stairs. She pointed at the broken bottom step. Black steam fizzed out of it. "See that sigil?" I looked at it, although every time I did, I felt an unbearable urge to look away. The urge grew less and less powerful as the magic drained out of it, and I felt much less fascinated by the very ordinary desk lamp across the room. My iron gate ached.

"Oh, crap." I rubbed my face. Issler could have shot me from that step, and I wouldn't have seen it coming.

"These are on the roads in and out of town," Annalise said. "No one leaves and no one comes in, and they all think it's their own idea. Let's go."

I followed her up the creaking steps. She reached under her jacket and took out a green ribbon.

There was a yellow door at the top of the stairs. She pushed it open and went inside.

I followed her into a small living space. To the right was a kitchen that was little more than a dent in the wall and an open door that led to a bathroom. To the left was a chair and three mattresses on the floor. Blankets were bunched in the corner, but there were no suitcases or clothes nearby. A threadbare couch sat beneath the far window.

"Pretty spartan," Annalise said.

"Boss, could they still be here? Could they be watching us from a corner where we can't see them?"

"Yes," she answered. Then she sighed. "I think they're gone. There's no luggage, no vehicle out front. They might come back, but--"