The Collected Christopher Connery (7 page)

“How many is that?”

“Oh, only about one hundred and thirteen or so. It’s a
very uncommon procedure.”

“Uh huh. Anyway, you’re saying not one of those one
hundred and thirteen people wanted to live after being brought back?”

“Not one.” Nia had been passively aware of this before
she had begun her research, but reading the transcribed accounts of the
resurrected persons’ pleas for death had pounded the fact home. There had
actually been talk of resurrecting Nia’s mother in the days following the –
accident. Only six years old at the time, Nia had believed they could just
bring her mother back exactly as she had been and had cried bitterly when the
Directors had decided against the resurrection.

Knowing what she did now, she was grateful that her
mother had been spared the suffering and indignity.

Gail was still watching her with those keen dark eyes.
“So how many of these have you done?”

“Personally? None. There have only been two resurrections
performed in my lifetime. It’s not something undertaken without the greatest
need.” She met Gail’s eyes seriously. “And this is the greatest need.”

Looking down at the table, Gail seemed to ponder her
words for a long moment. Then she sighed and rubbed her temple with a finger.
“Fine. To be honest, I need the money, so I’m willing to play along for now.”
She sighed. “Which I guess doesn’t make me any better than the bastards I
worked with.”

Despite winning the argument, Nia found herself still
speaking. “But that’s not true. Not only could Connery’s magical knowledge
benefit every person in this city, but at the very least, we will discover what
types of dark magic are currently in circulation. That will help us prevent the
emergence of another Connery.”

There was another moment of hard staring, which made Nia
feel like she was under suspicion of committing a crime. She half-expected Gail
to shine a bright light into her face and demand to know her whereabouts at
midnight three weeks prior. But all the detective did was sigh and lean back in
her chair. “I guess this won’t be the first time I’ve played into Connery’s
hands in hopes of outwitting him. But –” And this “but” was as hard and sharp
as a crack in glass – “before I agree to this, I want a veto.”

Nia glanced at Arthur in confusion, but he only shrugged
back at her. “A veto?”

“You know, in a manner of speaking. I obviously can’t
stop the Academy from doing whatever the hell they want, but if things start
getting out of hand, I want to at least put a temporary stop to the
investigation until we can weigh our options and I want there to
be
options.
I don’t want to rush into anything when it’s clearly completely fucked. And if
I don’t like the sound of what you decide then you let me out of our contract
without any bullshit, okay? Obviously, I won’t take any money I didn’t earn,
but I want some assurance that I’m not going to get blacklisted if I decide I
can’t go along this. I know I can’t make you do anything, but I think I can
trust your word. So, what do you say?”

What exactly makes you believe that your assistance is
so valuable that we –
then Nia remembered who had found Connery’s head that
afternoon and who had nearly gotten herself killed in the process. The
detective’s naysaying might be irritating, but there was no arguing with her
effectiveness. She looked up and found Gail waiting patiently for her answer.

You’ve been working alone for too long, Nia. It’s
about time you learned to compromise.

“Very well, agreed.” She held out her hand. “I won’t make
you do anything you truly disagree with, detective.”

Gail smirked as if she didn’t believe her, but she shook
Nia’s hand nonetheless. “Thank you, Illuminator Graves, I appreciate it.”

“Please call me Nia. We’re partners after all.”

“All right. You can call me Gail then, if you want.”

“Oh, I’ll try!” Nia couldn’t quite smother her
embarrassed smile. “I may occasionally slip and call you ‘detective’ from time
to time, though. I don’t get to say that very often. It adds a certain something
to the experience, don’t you think?”

Gail laughed so hard that she almost knocked her drink
off the table with her elbow. She steadied it with one hand then looked up,
still smiling. “I guess it does.”

Arthur’s eyes flicked to the window behind Gail. “It’s
raining again.”

Normally that would hardly be cause for comment, but as
the wet summer months drew closer, everyone watched the rain with more
heavy-hearted interest, knowing that each storm might be the one to swallow the
sun for good. Nia watched the raindrops streak across the window, blurring the
lights of the marquee and turning the streets to black rivers. As much as Nia
loved the sunshine, she had to admit that there was something beautiful about
the way the wet city seemed to shine with its own light.

Beyond the glass, she could see people opening umbrellas
and pulling plastic ponchos over their heads as they hurried to cover their
cars. One or two unfortunate people who had forgotten their umbrellas and
ponchos scurried into shops for cover.

“If people cared even half as much about covering the
people down in Gracetown as they did about protecting their precious cars, we
wouldn’t have so many bad water deaths after every storm,” Gail muttered,
twisting in her chair to glare out the window.

Nia, who had finally gotten down to enjoying her
now-slightly-cold meal, looked up in surprise. “Does that happen often? People
dying from the water, I mean.”

“When I was still a cop, we got called in to deal with at
least five bad water deaths after every big storm.” Gail’s scowled. “And I’m
sure there were more that never get called in.”

“But people actually die? Because of the
rain?
I
understand it’s not fit for drinking or bathing, but surely death would require
a great deal of…” Nia glanced at Arthur, who seemed equally incredulous. “How
on earth could that happen?”

“Do people just forget the water’s toxic?” Arthur asked
with a slightly derisive smile. “In the Academy, sometimes a child will drink
some bad water accidentally, but like Nia said, it would take a lot of water to
cause death, even in a child.”

Gail answered without looking away from the window.
“You’ve never lived outside the Academy. You sure as hell have never lived in
Gracetown. A lot of people there don’t have roofs over their head. Yeah, the
water won’t hurt you if you’re only out in it for a little while, but if your
house is a knocked-together hovel or a box, it takes its toll, especially if
you’re drinking it too.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “So they
do
just forget
that it’s toxic?”

“No,” Gail replied. “They don’t have a choice.”

Nia tugged on her necklace as she shared a bewildered
glanced with Arthur. “But the Academy has water purification facilities. The
wells –”

“Don’t reach all of Gracetown and the pipelines that do
reach partway through break or get clogged on the regular. Even when they’re
working perfectly, some people aren’t strong enough to haul water every day.
When people are hungry or thirsty, they can get a bit dumb. They think ‘a few
cups won’t make me sick,’ but it will, and if they’re really young or old or
already sick then…”

Something about Gail’s voice stilled Nia’s tongue, though
her mind was buzzing with questions. It sounded almost as if the detective were
speaking from personal experience. Very unhappy personal experience.

“It starts as one desperate act every now and again, when
the well’s clogged or the pump’s broken and your kids won’t stop crying. The
trouble is that even just once or twice can make you sick and once you’re sick
everything gets harder and the harder things are, the more desperate you get.”
Gail finally looked at them again. “So it doesn’t get better.”

Arthur was looking at the table. “I think I understand.”

“Glad to hear it, but anyway, that’s not what we’re here
to talk about.” She picked up her fork.

“Would more purification apparatuses help?” Nia asked.

“Of course they would, but good luck getting the money to
build them.”

That was a depressingly good point. Many of the older –
and therefore powerful – members of the Academy still viewed Gracetown as an
unfortunate stain on the city, best left unacknowledged whenever possible, but
if people were actually dying…
Even if the Gracetown residents hated the
Academy as much as some magicians believed – well, it seemed to Nia that they
had good reason to, the way things stood, and leaving the residents to poison
themselves on bad water would hardly ease hostilities.

“I will make inquiries.” Nia realized how weak the words
sounded the moment they fell off her tongue, so she added, more firmly, “I will
personally see that something is done.”

For a moment, Gail looked like she was going to say
something biting in response but instead she shrugged. “I guess it can’t hurt
to try, can it? Thanks.” She took another sip of her drink then seemed to
recollect what they were really there to discuss. “Getting back to it, you said
there’s more of Connery is nearby?”

“Yes, quite near actually.” Surprisingly near, if she
were honest.

“Fine. We’ll start looking in the morning then.” Gail
pushed away from the table, leaving her mostly untouched plate behind. “But if
you’ll excuse me, I’m pretty worn out. I think I’ll make an early night of it.
What time do you want to get started tomorrow?”

“Oh, early I should think!” said Nia, secretly relieved
that the conversation could move away from such uncomfortable topics. “After
all, why waste time?”

As it turned out, magicians could find plenty of reasons
to waste time. Despite her ordeal the day before, Gail had pulled herself out of
bed by 7:30 and was washed and dressed before she realized that she had yet to
hear a peep from the magicians’ room.

She tapped on their door but got no response.
It’s
still early,
she thought.
They’ll be up soon.

Around nine, she was starting to get a little irritated.
The Illuminator had said “early,” right? She didn’t think anyone classified
after nine as “early.” Maybe it wasn’t quite late, but it definitely wasn’t
early.

At ten, she was ready to go down to breakfast without
them. At half past ten, she did just that and she when came back up at eleven,
she knocked on the door again, much more forcefully than last time.

When no one answered, she called, “Illuminator Graves?
Mr. Graves?” She waited. “Nia?”

Dead silence.

God damn it, Gail had dragged her sore body out of bed at
the crack of dawn to continue an investigation she was still considering
walking off of and now she was waiting around for the supposedly great
magicians to get their lazy asses up. She tried the doorknob in her
frustration, but found it locked.

Annoyance boiling under her skin, she stomped downstairs
and through the quiet lobby to one of the public phones. She would see if the
contact number the Academy had provided in her contract still worked. If she
did get through, they would probably just tell her to tough it out and call
back when she had a real problem, but damn it, at least they would know she
thought this was the stupidest and most poorly executed plan anyone had ever –

She had snatched the phone from the hook and was halfway
through dialing the number when she realized that there was no dial tone. All
she could hear on the other end of the line was a soft intermittent buzz.

Frowning, she gave the receiver a sharp shake, but the
buzzing only grew slightly louder. When she tried to dial the operator, she
heard a faint click then just more buzzing.
Must be busted.
She shrugged
and set the receiver back down. She supposed she ought to let someone know that
–

She froze, one hand still on the phone, as she stared
around the silent lobby. “Where the hell did everyone go?”

She had been so focused on getting to the phone that she
had somehow failed to notice that the lobby was completely deserted. There had
been plenty of people milling around while she had eaten breakfast and according
to the sign above the desk, there was supposed to be someone manning the
reception desk twenty-four hours a day, but now…

No one.

Had the fire alarm gone off and she’d somehow missed it?

There was a soft thud behind her. Turning, she saw that
the phone had slipped off its hook and was hanging toward the ground, twisting
slightly on its cord. She picked it up, but stopped short of hanging it up
again.

There was a just barely audible voice coming from the
receiver.

Gail slowly raised the phone to her ear and heard the
soft voice whisper, “Detective Lin?”

A chill scuttled up Gail’s spine. “Illuminator Graves – I
mean, Nia? Is that you?”

“Don’t listen to it,” the voice whispered.

“What?” It
sounded
like Nia, but a voice that soft
could sound like almost anyone. “Don’t listen to what?”

“Any of it. Anything. Don’t listen to anything.”

Gail’s fear was pierced by a jab of annoyance. “I’m
listening to you, aren’t I?”

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end of the
line, then a piercing scream that shocked Gail into dropping the phone. Her leg
caught on a chair as she stumbled backwards and she landed hard on the floor.
As she clawed back to her feet, she swore she heard a low chuckle coming from
the dangling receiver.

“Is this a joke?” Gail snapped breathlessly. “Is this
supposed to be fucking funny?”

The lobby answered her by plunging itself into darkness.

Nia had woken at half past eight that morning and had immediately
set to work on the locating spell. She had considered waking Arthur and
Detective Lin –
Gail,
she corrected herself – but what would have been
the point? They couldn’t do anything until Nia had determined Connery’s
location. Better that she let them sleep and have a good plan ready and waiting
for them when they woke.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb Arthur in the
adjacent room, Nia pulled the hat box from under the bed and carefully took out
Connery’s head. She studied it for a long moment, taking in everything from the
vacant expression to the clammy texture of the skin. If she was going to do her
work successfully, she could not afford to feel disgust or fear. Connery’s head
had to become just another tool, no more repulsive than her chalk or her
compass.

Finally she set the head down on her slate and began
drawing the locating spell around it. She feared that she had made an error in
her work yesterday – a single line out of proportion could spoil an entire
spell – and that today she would discover that Connery was actually on the
other side of the city or perhaps at the bottom of the river.

But no. Though she checked and rechecked her work several
times, the results remained the same. Connery was here, as good as directly
under her feet. It was either hidden in one of the neighboring buildings or
right here in the hotel.

Unfortunately, the spell was not precise enough to tell
her which. Location spells were broad by design; they could tell you that your
favorite ring was lost somewhere in the house but not in which drawer you had
left it. Thankfully, Nia knew another way. Just like in that horrible house,
there were bound to be spells protecting Connery here. True, she hadn’t sensed
any strange magic in the immediate vicinity and as far as she could tell,
neither had Arthur, but a skilled magician could make his spells undetectable
to the senses. The overly sweet magic in the house yesterday had been a
deliberate lure.

And a successful one,
she thought with a light
sigh.
I really do have to be more careful.

But even if the spells were hidden from eyes, ears, and
tongues, they could be revealed by a magical detection spell. Of course
detection spells were complex and required minute accuracy to function
correctly, making them difficult for even Illuminators to perform under
anything but optimal conditions.

Happily, conditions didn’t get much more optimal than a
quiet hotel room with warm morning sunlight – sunlight! It seemed the rainy
season hadn’t completed its conquest of the city yet – spilling through the
window.

Well, a cup of coffee would have been welcome, but Nia
wasn’t one to complain.

The spell took nearly three quarters of an hour to
complete, Nia stopping every few minutes to check her measurements with the
measuring tape she kept in her tool case. She did not want to have to redo the
entire spell because of a careless mistake.

When the spell was complete, she stretched her arms over
her head, pulling the stiffness from her back. For a moment, she considered
fetching Arthur and Gail before triggering the spell, but just as quickly
decided it against it. Better that she get a sense of what they were up against
first.

So, sitting back on her knees, she triggered the spell
with a tap on the center ring.

Nothing happened.

She scowled. What had gone wrong? She had drawn the spell
correctly; she knew she had. So what –?

Something warm fell on to the back of her hand. She
looked down and saw bright red blood running down between her fingers. Too
bewildered to be frightened, she lifted her hand close to her eyes, searching
for a wound. Maybe she had cut herself on one of her measuring tools and hadn’t
noticed?

Another drop fell from above her, plopping on to the
sleeve of her pale purple dressing gown. Slowly lifting her eyes, she saw a
familiar body suspended from the ceiling. Blood dripped slowly from the wound
in her mother’s chest, running across her neck and face before falling toward
Nia, striking her below her eye and rolling down her cheek like a tear.

“This –” was all she managed to whisper before her
mother’s head turned toward her, eyes growing wide as they found Nia’s. Then
her mouth opened and blood gushed from between her lips.

Before the blood could reach Nia, the lights died and she
went mad for a little while.