Page of Swords (The Demon's Apprentice Book 2) (15 page)

BOOK: Page of Swords (The Demon's Apprentice Book 2)
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The paper disintegrated in a sparkling flash as the energy consumed it, and the chalk dust flew at the mirror. A distortion wave spread out in a circle with a warbling sound, then reality settled down. In the mirror, I could see the chalk slowly coalescing into a human form, then it fell away from the mirror to reveal a woman in a black shirt with an oversized ankh necklace around her neck. A Sentinel. What the hell was a wizard cop doing in my school?

The woman stopped in her tracks. For a moment, she looked down at herself, then her head turned to face the mirror. Dark eyes bored into me like a pair of black holes, sucking any emotion into them.

“What the hell?” she said. I was just as surprised. Sentinels were some of the best mages out there. They had to be, given what they did. But somehow, I’d managed to penetrate her concealment spell.

“How did you do that, warlock?” she scowled.

I gave my best nonchalant shrug.

“By accident?”

“Why did you assault me?” she demanded.

I realized I was hearing her voice in my head and that bugged me. But I had a bigger problem to deal with. Attacking a Sentinel was pretty much an instant death sentence from the Conclave.

“Because I didn’t know you were running around invisible at my school!” I told her. “And aren’t you supposed to not do that? This is neutral ground, or did you miss the big flag flying out front?”

Neutral ground was pretty serious stuff, since the flag in front of it essentially claimed the school as a public place, off limits for anyone to claim as their turf. The best the Conclave could do was operate undercover, like Dr. C did. Overt agents like Sentinels were completely forbidden, or so I thought.

I took a few steps closer to the mirror so I could see her better. She was pretty ordinary looking, brown hair, dark eyes, and a plain, round face that was easy to forget.

“You’re still a fugitive from the High Council’s justice,” she said. “Even with the Council’s indulgence to pursue your Ordeal, anywhere you go, I have leave to follow.”

“Let me guess . . . you can’t do squat to help though, can you?”

“No, I can’t. My orders are only to follow and observe, unless you do something that goes against the Laws.”

“Why?” I asked. “It’s not like it’d be hard for you to find me now.”

Her face went blank at my question. I’d done my share of poker face moments to know she was trying not to give something away.

“Who told you to follow me?” I demanded. Her eyes narrowed, like maybe she was considering her options before she answered.

“I . . . can’t tell you which Council member ordered me to follow you. Or why.”

Something in her eyes told me she wasn’t lying, but there seemed to be more to what she was saying. Something I wasn’t getting. I took another step closer, so I could see her for real, but when I came around the corner, I didn’t see her. She was still visible in the mirror, though. In the mirror, I could see her eyes tracking back to the reflection, and a knowing smile spread across her bland face.

“Would you mind getting out of my head?” I asked.

“That isn’t my doing. It’s your spell. I hid myself from sight and hearing, but I didn’t consider a reflection. You didn’t break my concealment; you just stumbled around it. You’re hearing me through the mirror. It seems we both learned something today.”

“Yeah,” I grumbled. A wave of my hand dispelled the casting. “Not sure I’m real happy about it, though.”

 

When I told Dr. C about it during sixth period, he reacted about like I figured he would.

“Those pompous, back-stabbing pricks!” he hissed. “My bet is that Polter is behind this. He’d love nothing more than to catch you breaking one of the Laws. And sending in someone else to do all the work is just his style. Round face, brown hair, kind of young, I’d bet?” he recited my description of the Sentinel.

“Yeah, pissed off look. You know her?”

“Maybe. It could be Jane Dearborn. I’m betting the Council heard about your trip to the jail this weekend. That would be enough for Polter to convince them to set a Sentinel to watch your every move. Still, that shouldn’t slow you down much, since you’re not planning on breaking any of the Laws any time this week . . . right?” He gave me the raised eyebrow at the last, and I gave him a shrug to mess with him. He stalked away muttering about me getting him killed.

I needed to ditch the Sentinel to go after the asshole who had threatened my family. Collins was probably going to go orbital when he found out, too. If he found out. I waited until Dr. C was a couple of tables away before I leaned forward over the table and gestured for Lucas to get closer, too.

“Need you to text Donovan. Ask him if he can meet me at Finley Park around three,” I whispered to him. He gave me a grim look.

“Are you sure, dude?” he asked softly, even as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

For a guy like Lucas, who saw his whole future revolving around his GPA, what I was about to do was almost blasphemous. He thought in terms of years. There was a missing girl out there, and her life might only be measured in days. Or even hours. With the Council’s Ordeal to finish by Wednesday, I could relate.

I was going to have to skip class.

 

Skipping class is easy if you’re a normal kid. If you’re an apprentice mage and you happen to have an illegal
neglinom
charm you beat up a necromancer to get, it’s a breeze. Skipping class without being caught by a teacher, a Sentinel, and a street-smart cop? That’s a little harder. I had to step into wood shop so my Sentinel saw me go in, then get the
neglinom
charm on and slip back out without bumping into anyone, and I had to do it before the door closed to start the period. The trick was in the timing.

Once I got out of the class, I still had to make it to Finley Park by three, which meant I had to run.
Neglinom
charms are good at making you forgettable, but that’s only if you’re not drawing attention to yourself by doing something like running. So, once I was clear of the school building, I made my way across to the stadium and jumped the drainage ditch that ran behind the football field. Once I was on the other side, I slipped the charm off and broke into a jog. Finley was about half a mile from the school, and I made it there only a couple of minutes after three.

Donovan was waiting by the skate park on the east side of the park. Half a dozen skaters were already there in jeans and zippered hoodies, all of them giving the big guy on the motorcycle the wary eye from under their hoods or backwards baseball caps. Me showing up didn’t make them jump for joy, either. Combat boots, jeans, and a leather jacket didn’t fit with any one group, and I wasn’t wearing my hair in any style that said I was a jock or a Goth or whatever. Besides, as I found out on Friday night, I was already getting a rep as the guy who knew magick.

Dr. C had told me once that outside of a very few friends, I’d probably never really fit in anywhere because I was a mage. He’d called it being “distinctly Other.” I didn’t think about things other kids thought about, didn’t talk about what they talked about, and wasn’t interested in the things they were interested in. Even when I ditched seventh period, I wasn’t just hanging out with friends or something fun. No, when I skipped school, I did it to avoid a mage cop and find the guy who’d threatened my family. I shook my head as I realized I lived in a completely different world than the kids around me.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said as I walked up.

“No problem, man,” Donovan said. “What’s up?”

“I need to track someone down.” He nodded.

“Lucas told me about Sunday morning,” he told me as he tossed an extra helmet my way.

“Good. Less explaining. Head for my house,” I said as I slipped the plastic bowl over my head.

“Aren’t you gonna catch a lot of crap for this?” He asked a few minutes later as we sped down a side road.

“Only if I don’t make it back in time,” I answered.

He leaned forward and poured on a little more speed. A few minutes later, we were pulling into the alleyway behind my house.

I slid off the back and handed him the helmet, then I knelt down and took my backpack off. From inside it, I pulled my indigo chalk, my
athame
and
boline
, and the baggie I’d tucked the handkerchief with Fedora’s blood on it into.

While most seeking spells were supposed to be able to be done from anywhere, I’d always had the best luck when I cast them near the last place what I was looking for had been. Even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else, it made sense to me, and all magic was fueled by the caster’s will. If I believed it would work better this way, it would.

It took a minute or two to draw the casting circle and to get the symbols inside it right. I closed it with a whispered “
Circumvare
,” and felt the world seem to go silent around me. Really, it was just the absence of all the rest of the background noise against my mystical senses, but my brain told me it got quiet. I held my amethyst over the blood-stained cloth and uttered the spell, willing the connection between my little crystal and the blood beneath it.


Velle, virtutem quaero, videtur tacta, 1llust tenere
!”

As the last word sounded, I felt the power of the spell build, and the pendulum started to move in a slow circle, getting faster with each rotation. After the seventh time, I nudged my boot across the chalk line and broke the circle. The pendulum stopped spinning and leaned to the south-east. I hopped the steps down and crossed the yard at a jog.

“What the hell is that?” Steve asked.

“No time for questions. Game’s afoot and all that!” I called out as I straddled the bike again. I slid the helmet on and held the amethyst out where he could see it. “That way!”

“Straight?” he asked over his shoulder, pointing to the garage we’d have to plow through to follow it.

“That way-ish, then. You know the drill. We follow it until we find it, and hope we do it quick!”

“Your ‘ish’ is my command, sahib,” he quipped before he gunned the throttle and we headed down the alley.

The stone held true as we hit a southbound street, only moving a little to the east as we went. When we saw a sign for the freeway, I pointed it out to him, and he nodded. Less than a minute later, we were on Highway 71 east with the wind in our faces and cars sliding by on our right as he took over the fast lane. I had to lean back and cup the pendulum in my hand between his back and my body to keep it from getting blown all over the place.

The pendulum started to swing south, and I tapped Steve’s shoulder when it got close to pointing all the way to my right. He yelled something into the wind and the bike leaned to the right. Three lanes of asphalt slid by under us, and I fought to keep my cool as he cut across the path of a semi with only a few feet to spare. We hit the off ramp at speed, and I felt myself slide forward on the seat as he braked hard. The front of the bike dipped down as we slowed down, and I pointed to the right. The light was green, so he took the turn without stopping, and we headed down Republic Avenue. The pendulum swung to the left as we went, until it was pointing across the fifth red light we came to at a club called Inferno.

“Jackpot,” I muttered as it swung to keep Inferno on point as Steve crossed through the intersection. I pointed at the club, and he nodded, then circled around until we were turning into the parking lot.

Inferno was all white concrete and glass in front, with a neon marquis. The club’s name in flaming letters showed on the sign, then spun away to show that the club was closed for renovation until Thursday. It dropped to announce Love In Chains was playing Friday, opening for Personal AntiChrist. Then it came back to the Inferno logo.


Ego sum inter illustrator,
” I whispered as I got off the bike and pulled my helmet off.
I am among the enlightened.

A series of vampiric glyphs flared to life above the doorway. I could recognize vampire glyphs, but I only knew the meanings of a few of them. The two I did understand were enough to make my blood turn cold. The first one was common to any territory claimed by a clan of vamps, basically saying, “This is our feeding ground, don’t hunt here.” The second one was a cabal mark, and it was one I recognized.

“What is it?” Steve asked as I hissed a curse. He’d come to stand beside me while I was staring at the glyphs.

“This just got complicated,” I told him. “This is a vampire clan’s feeding ground. Which means the messenger boy we followed here works for one of Lord Thraxus’ minions.”

“Which means exactly what?” Steve asked. He turned to face me, and his eyes flicked to the marquis. I gave him a hard look.

“Which means we can’t just go in there and start with the smackdown like I want to. Not unless we want every vamp in the city after us with sanction to drain us dry.”

“There’s evil in there, Chance, I can feel it. It’s like a thousand ants on my skin. I’ve never felt it this bad before. We can’t just walk away from this.” His jaw set and his eyebrows settled like thunderclouds.

“Steve, we
have
to. As much as I want to go in there and shed the light of day on every single one of these bloodsuckers, we can’t. You have to understand how sanguinary politics works. This guy isn’t far down the ladder from Thraxus, maybe a lieutenant or even a trusted lieutenant, depending on how literal you take the Evil Overlord list. And I’m in the know, uh,
inter 1llustrate
. Which means I can read the glyphs over the door and I know who this guy answers to. If I do that, then Thraxus has to hit me back hard.”

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