The Scarlet Crane: Transition Magic Book One (The Transition Magic Series 1) (26 page)

He glared at her. “This isn’t like your American TV. You
will
talk.
Everyone
talks. I’ll return tomorrow to continue our conversation. Enjoy your time with my comrades.” He pushed himself upright and two of the guards moved to his side. He barked several commands in Chinese, shuffled into the darkness, and disappeared.

Another guard stepped in front of Stony, holding a Taser tipped with electrodes like the jaws of a massive spider. He bent, shoved the probe against her vulva, looked her in the eye with a smile, and pulled the trigger.

Hoeryong

The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea

Senior Colonel Zhi stood before the tall windows in his darkened office, staring into the North Korean night. The glow from the Crane compound threw the tips of the tall grasses protruding above the snow into stark relief.

Three days. Thanks to Eng’s success with the children, in three days I’ll use magic to cure Wu and bend him to my will.

Zhi turned toward the soft click of his door being opened. Eng stuck his head in and said, “Comrade Wu is calling on the secure line.”

Zhi glanced at his watch. It was almost 2200. He and Eng planned to drive to Hoeryong and enjoy the strippers at a new underground lady bar.

“I assume this will be quick. We’ll leave after.”

Eng nodded and closed the door.

Wu never called this late. Puzzled, Zhi strolled to his desk, sat, and punched the button on his speaker console to connect the call.

“Good evening, Comrade Wu. I hope the late hour doesn’t indicate some sort of problem.”

Wu hacked and coughed. He sounded exhausted. “No, Senior Colonel. I have news that I thought you’d want to hear promptly. We’ve captured one of the American agents. The woman. We’re holding her in an abandoned factory outside the city for questioning. I am returning from there now.”

“What? Where did you find her?” Zhi asked.

“At the Beijing airport.”

“What of the old man?”

“They split up soon after reaching the departure terminal. My men followed the woman and grabbed her as she was leaving the ticket counter.”

Zhi smacked his desk in frustration, caring little if Wu overheard him. “They followed the woman? Both should have been taken, but if they could only grab one, it should have been the man. He’s the leader. Your team was poorly briefed and out of position.”

Wu’s voice was harsh. “Don’t presume to lecture me, Senior Colonel. This call was a courtesy.”

Calm yourself. There may be an opportunity here.

“Perhaps my words were hasty. I’m sure the situation was more complex than I appreciated. What have you learned from your prisoner?”

“Nothing directly from her, but questioning has just begun. She is surprisingly stubborn for an American female. I anticipate more progress by tomorrow morning when I return to the interrogation.”

“And indirectly?” Zhi asked.

“According to China Airlines’ records, she canceled two tickets to Shenyang and rebooked for Xi’an.”

“Shenyang, Comrade Wu?” Zhi’s voice rose in alarm. “Could the Americans know about Wu De and our child procurement program? Why would they cancel Shenyang for a trip to Xi’an?”

Wu began to speak, choked, coughed and started again, savagely sarcastic, “Thank you for your concern for my son. I phoned him just moments ago. Nothing is amiss. He received a coded call earlier today from Upland. She’s to meet with him in Shenyang the day after tomorrow. As for the Americans’ trip to Xi’an, who knows? They must be chasing a false lead.”

“Surely the American who escaped your team’s grasp has been alerted by the disappearance of his colleague.”

“Most likely he fled to the U.S. Embassy. It will be impossible for us to get to him, at least anytime soon.”

Zhi heard a soft tap on his door, followed by light flooding into his office from the hallway beyond. Eng, in silhouette, mimed looking at his watch. Zhi smiled.

My new ally values naked women more than he values Comrade Wu.

He shook his head and waved Eng inside, pointing him to a chair. The patchouli scent from a burning joss stick followed him. Eng was addicted to incense.

Zhi’s mind raced, trying to assemble the few pieces of the puzzle before him. “Normally, the embassy would be a haven, true. But perhaps not in this instance.” He paused to emphasize his next words. “Give me the American. I’ll use magic to learn her secrets. Then I’ll deal with her colleague, regardless of his location.”

Wu was silent for several moments. “I can get answers from her using the ancient methods faster than—”

“We both know torture is unreliable,” Zhi said. “You said the bitch was stubborn. What if she dies without talking? Think of the intelligence we would lose.”

“Let me finish. I don’t want your experiments to risk the lives of the Transition kids who might be needed to cure me.” He wheezed into the phone. “I’m loathe to admit this, but I have little time remaining.”

“I understand, Comrade,” Zhi said. “Your health is a great concern. Just before you called I finalized a plan for your cure. I was going to phone you first thing in the morning—”

“When? When will you be ready?”

“In three days, as soon as the necessary training is complete.”

Healed, yes. But compliant with my every wish.

“This is better than I dared hope, Zhi Peng.” Wu sounded energetic and engaged for the first time during the call. “Each day brings me closer to the abyss. What exactly are you proposing?”

Zhi said, “Don’t let your goons kill the American. Put her on a transport tonight. I have six kids in Transition. I’ll use three of them to heal you and prepare the three others to empty the spy like a shattered vase. But not until I’m certain you are well.”

Zhi leaned back and gazed at the ceiling as he waited for Wu to respond.

I’ll be the most powerful man in the People’s Republic. On the planet.

Wu’s voice rumbled from the speaker. “I wish it weren’t so, but my life is in your hands. I will arrange the immediate transfer.”

“Thank you, Comrade. I’m honored—” Zhi’s phony reassurance was interrupted by the sharp hum of a dial tone.

Intermont, North Carolina

The United States

Jonah stood staring through the den window. It was dark outside, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Streetlights had clicked on, struggling and failing to penetrate the icy fog wrapping the town.

He grabbed his book and moved to his favorite spot, lying in a corner with his back cushioned on the floor, his skinny legs stretched up the wall. A solitary light spun a yellow circle around him in the darkened room.

He was soon spellbound, fighting in the far reaches of the universe, his toes clenching as he dodged alien attacks.

A wet, rattling wheeze knocked him out of the story. He’d been hearing the sound for a while, just beyond his awareness.

Jonah stopped reading and listened. “Megan?” Chemo had made her asthma worse.

A gasping sob cut through the quiet room.

He dropped his legs and glanced at the den’s sound monitor, part of the network his parents had installed to track him during Transition. A glowing red indicator for Megan’s bedroom screamed for attention. The speaker on the squat black box moaned and choked.

He rolled to his feet, bounded into the hall and up the stairs to Megan’s room, where he found her lying across her bed. Her lips were purple; she wasn’t getting enough air. She seemed paralyzed, her eyes frantic, like some monster had just grabbed her.

Jonah had never been more scared, so scared he couldn’t think or move. He exploded into tears. After standing frozen for what felt like forever, an irresistible urge possessed him. He had to do something—anything—to help her.

“Hang on Megan, I’ll get help!”

He sprinted into the hall. “MOM, MEGAN CAN’T BREATHE!”

He raced back into the room and propped her up with pillows.

He couldn’t spot her bright yellow inhaler anywhere. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head, chest heaving.

He tore down the hall into the bathroom, got an inhaler, ran back to her, pumped the tube twice, and got her to suck a little of the medicine into her lungs. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, pleading, still unable to speak.

He heard his mother running toward the bottom of the stairs as he raced into his parents’ bedroom, grabbed the phone, and mashed 911.

* * *

His mom rode in the ambulance with Megan while he and his dad followed in the car.

“Megan will be okay, Jonah. She was already better by the time the paramedics arrived. You did exactly the right things to help her.”

“Uh huh.” Neither of them said anything else for the remainder of the trip.

When they reached the emergency room, a doctor came to the lobby and told them Megan was breathing more comfortably and was still receiving treatment. His dad led Jonah to a seat near the reception desk. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I check with your mom.” He stopped by the receptionist, explained that Jonah was in Transition, and asked her to watch him. She nodded, staring at Jonah’s eyes.

She looks like a foul-tempered troll. I bet she hates kids, especially kids in Transition. Or maybe she’s afraid of kids in Transition.

The nurse’s gaze froze him to his seat.

Chaos shattered the silence. Three ambulances screamed up to the ER doors, their lights engulfing the emergency room in a flashing red glare. Doctors, nurses, and police scrambled everywhere. A doctor yelled for the nurse at the reception desk and she leaped from her chair to help.

This is my best chance to use magic to heal Megan. Maybe my only.

He jumped up and darted into a narrow hallway that led away from the emergency room. The passage ran about twenty feet, ending at a blank wall. A doorless room with a couple of chairs and a sputtering overhead light beckoned on his right. He dashed into the comforting solitude and sat down.

He’d practiced the words required for Transition for more than a year. He knew he had to say them exactly for the magic to work and, now that the time had come, he worried that he’d screw it up.

How does anyone know if this works if every kid who tries it dies?

He swallowed a deep breath and began in a shaky but clear voice:

“I invoke my birthright to the Power granted by Transition. I beseech this Power to grant my request. I honor the requirements of Transition and affirm …

“That I make my request with respect and humility …” Jonah felt like he had plunged into an ice-filled pool. His hands glowed dimly.

“That my request is my own …

“That my heart is pure …” He ached with the cold as the world around him was swallowed in lavender.

“That my request is worthy …

“That no request like mine has been uttered since time began …

“That this is my own true wish …

“That I willingly surrender my life if I am found unworthy or my request is found wanting in any measure …” He closed his eyes to block the distracting aura.

“Hear me. Heal …”

“JONAH! STOP!” His dad shook him, startling him into silence. The aura and cold disappeared.

He had failed.

* * *

His dad was breathing like he’d been in a race, his face twisted and furious. He jerked Jonah to a chair and sat down facing him, their knees touching. “Look at me!” his dad demanded. “Why? Why do you think you’re different from any other kid who’s tried this? Did you think at all? Can you imagine what your death would mean to Megan? To your mom? To me?”

“I can explain—”

“There’s no possible explanation, Jonah. I’m deeply disappointed. I thought I could trust you.” He stood abruptly. “Come on.”

He took Jonah back to the emergency room and into a maze of curtained treatment rooms. Jonah scurried to keep up. The smell of bleach and cries coming from behind the curtains creeped him out. His dad pulled back the curtains to Megan’s bed. She chattered and giggled as if nothing had ever happened. His mom’s welcoming smile changed to alarm when she saw the look on his dad’s face.

“Stand right here,” his dad said. “Your mom and I need to talk. Entertain your sister.” They left, pulling the curtain behind them. Megan was hyped, telling him about the ambulance ride and the hospital visit. His mom and dad stood close enough for him to hear their muted conversation.

His dad’s voice was hoarse. “The reception nurse got distracted. Jonah used that to get away and start the Transition ritual. I stopped him just as he was finishing. Another few seconds and he would’ve been dead.”

“Oh, Jesus. After all we’ve said and done, I didn’t think we had to worry about him.”

“Me either. But now we have to assume he’ll try again if he gets a chance.”

Both were quiet, then his mom said, “We have no choice. The doctor said he needed a day to get a court order for the sedation and arrange for a room. One of us can stay with Jonah around the clock until then. Can you get your brother to come over and sit with Megan?”

“Yeah. And I’ll call Doctor Shepard to get things rolling.”

His mom came back. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face as white as the curtains surrounding them. He could hear his dad walking away, talking on his phone.

She reached over and pulled Megan’s hair out of her eyes. “Honey, the doctor says you are doing great, but he wants to keep you in the hospital overnight just to be safe. We need to take Jonah home, so Uncle Matt is coming over to stay with you until you go to sleep this evening. We’ll come get you first thing in the morning.”

Jonah rode home in tortured silence.

* * *

As soon as they were in the house, his dad turned and walked toward his office without speaking.

“Jonah,” his mom said, “let’s go sit in the backyard for a few minutes and talk.”

Jonah shrugged, yanked his jacket back on, and trailed her to the picnic table. Snow began swirling though the pines as they sat down.

“Honey, were you trying to use magic to cure Megan?”

“Yeah.”

No sense lying now.

“I heard you and Dad talking about how the treatments haven’t worked. I’m not stupid, I know what that means.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. You must not have heard our entire conversation. We’ll find new treatments.”

“Dad’s given up, Mom. You said it.”

His mom’s face flushed. “You know how you sometimes say things you don’t mean when you’re upset? Like when you said I was ruining your life because I wouldn’t let you go to a sleepover at Tommy’s? Well, adults do that too. Your dad’s already called Duke about getting Megan into a new program.”

He closed his eyes to keep from crying. “There’s no time, Mom. I’ll be out of Transition in three weeks. What if the treatments don’t work then?” Snowflakes drowned in his tears.

“Jonah, you must trust us.”

“I do, Mom, but it’s not enough.”

His mom sat quietly for a minute. “I don’t know how to say this, but you need to hear it.” She wiped her eyes and caressed his cheeks with her wet fingers. “If the worst happens, I can’t lose you too. Magic will kill you. Your dad and I would be totally lost.”

“No, it won’t! I’ve figured it out. I’ll be okay, so will Megan. See, if I …”

His mom cut him off, her face red with anger, “Stop it, Jonah. It doesn’t matter what you’ve figured out. Do you honestly believe no one ever thought of it before?”

He looked at the ground, unable to withstand her glare.

“You’ve left us with no choice. As of now, either your dad or I will be with you every minute. All doors in the house will be left open. No exceptions. We’ll sit by your bed tonight, and tomorrow we’ll take you to the hospital where you can sleep until Transition is over.”

“Mom, please —”

“Our decision is final.”

“Nooo! Megan is dying, and I’m her only chance. I can cure—”

“Final, Jonah. No more discussion.”

As promised, they never left him alone. At first, they tried to talk with him, like things were normal. If he answered at all, it was with grunts or one word answers. They soon left him to his thoughts.

By this time tomorrow I’ll be in the hospital
.
When I wake up, Megan will still be dying and I won’t be able to help.

He sought refuge in reading but kept staring at the same page, his mind circling the terrible reality of his failure.

* * *

When his dad woke him early the next morning he felt like he’d betrayed Megan again by falling asleep.

A cold wind skated over four inches of wet snow as they drove to the hospital. Jonah climbed from the car and walked toward the hospital, his parents close by his side. He stumbled, as if his legs were bound by enormous chains.

He jerked upright and was stunned to feel his burden fall away, replaced by the same irresistible energy that had compelled him to help Megan when she couldn’t breathe. He sprang away from his parents, not glancing back, sliding blindly down the street.

His dad lunged after him bellowing, “NO!”

It was early, with no one on the streets to interfere with their icy ballet. Neither gained on the other for the first block, then the gap began to widen.

Megan’s life depends on me.

Jonah accelerated and peeked over his shoulder. His dad had stopped and was bent over, his ragged breath blowing clouds of fog.

“JONAH, PLEASE!”

He turned and ran even faster.

Where do I go?

He lived in a small town with no secrets. His dad would call the police. No place was safe.

Off the streets. Now.

He left his dad behind and slowed, turning one corner, then another.

Where?

He realized he was moving toward the mountain pushing against the edge of town. His uncertainty lifted, like a fog clearing the mountaintop on a spring morning.

Yeah!

He and his friends played on a limestone outcrop about halfway to the peak. There was a small cave where he could be alone. Not for long, but maybe enough.

I can do this.

He cut between two houses and plunged into the woods. It was snowing heavily, but he figured his dad or the police would still be able to find his trail. Pine boughs heavy with snow slapped his face as he pushed up the mountain.

He hadn’t noticed the cold as he ran through the streets, but now that was all he could think about. His feet were soaked, he shivered convulsively, and his chattering teeth gnawed at his lips.

Magic couldn’t be any colder than this.

The snow, thick overcast, and dense woods conspired to darken his path. The woods were eerily quiet, his harsh breathing the only sound. He slogged on interminably in the obscure gloom.

The craggy stone outcropping erupted abruptly, painted by patches of lichen and snow and shrouded in a lambent light. The pines stood well away, as if fearing the rocky intrusion.

Jonah skirted the base, looking for the cave. His jacket was stiff from the cold. He couldn’t feel his toes.

There!

He scrambled into the sheltering depression and spun around, sticking his head out and listening carefully. Sound carried long distances in the mountains. Faint voices drifted up from below.