The Warlock's Curse (29 page)

“I don’t get it,” said Will. “What truth? What Agency? What’s a Goês?”

“Gee, don’t they teach you Greek out there in California?” Court said. “The whole thing is a goof on the Stanton Institute. You know what a Sophos is, right?”

Will shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a title. Like a president or something.”

Court made an exasperated sound. “In Greek, Sophos means wise man. A Goês is the opposite of a Sophos. A charlatan, a fool. But you know the old saying—only the truly wise man knows he is a fool.”

“All right,” said Will. “So some fool wrote a book confessing something. So what?”

“This book reveals the truth about The Great Change. What really happened.”

“So what really happened?”

“I’ll let you know after I’ve read it,” Court said. “Which I can only do if I give my friend of a friend who’s managed to get a copy an address that isn’t ... well, you know.
Monitored
.”

“Come on, I’m sure they don’t open your mail here,” Will scoffed. Court raised his eyebrows significantly but said nothing.

Will paused, brow wrinkling with concern. “You don’t think they’ll be opening
my
mail, do you?” And the minute he said it, he realized that it wasn’t his mail he was worried about.

“Of course I don’t, dummy,” Court said. “If I did, I wouldn’t be asking to use your mailbox. So how about it? Deal?”

“Deal,” said Will, absently. But despite Court’s reassurances, he resolved once again to remind Jenny to be careful.

And he did remind her that night as they sat up late at the kitchen table, each working feverishly over their own project. He laid down his mechanical pencil, leaned back in his chair, and looked at her.

“What?” she inquired sharply, after he’d stared at her in silence for a long time.

“Court doesn’t think they’ll watch our mail,” he said. “But you’ll be careful, right, Jenny?”

“What are you talking about? Who’s Court?”

“Another one of the apprentices. He’s a good guy. He wants to use our mailbox to have some stuff sent to him, because Tesla Industries monitors the mail the apprentices get.”

Jenny snorted, shook her head. “Your Mr. Tesla sure runs a tight ship.” Then she returned to her work without another word. She was scrutinizing the stock pages of
The Detroit News
, making neat little notes by issues that seemed of particular interest to her.

“They’re looking for us, you know.” Will did not need to say who.

“Of course they are.” Jenny didn’t bother to look up.

“I mean
really
looking for us. They’ve already contacted Tesla Industries. Everyone’s furious. And now they’ve got all your dad’s money on their side—”

“My dad can go soak his head!” Jenny snapped. She kept her eyes on her papers, but he saw her expression soften and grow slightly wistful. “Darn it.” She was silent for a long time. “I only need a couple of weeks, William. Once your patent is filed, I’ll go away and they won’t make trouble for you any more.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

Jenny sighed. “Yes it is. Or at least it should be. I may be helping you with your patent, but I know I’m hurting you just as much. If I weren’t here, your parents wouldn’t be half as mad as they are.”

Will rubbed his tired eyes. “What have we done that’s so wrong?” He found himself thinking back on the conversation he’d had with Nate in the barn. Nate had said Will should try to take his father on faith. “Why can’t they have faith in
us?
”

“It’s not that our parents are bad, or mean, or unkind,” said Jenny, softly. “They just don’t understand. They
can’t
understand. Things were different for them. They lived in a different world, and they’re trying to hold us to those standards. We have to teach them. It’s our job to show them, even though it’s hard, even though it may make them ... hate us.” She paused, biting her lip at the thought.

“Your dad won’t ever hate you,” said Will.

Jenny seemed oddly unconvinced. “I’ll wire him tomorrow. I’ll tell him I’m coming home.”

“Jenny!”

She answered the alarm in his voice. “I’m not really going to go! It’s just to stall for time. I’ll tell him I’m coming home, but only if he makes your parents promise to stop bothering Tesla Industries about you. It takes days to get to California by train, and that’ll keep everyone out of our hair for at least that long.”

“And when you don’t show up at the station?”

“All we need is a head start,” she said. “I’ll work harder between now and then to make sure I have everything I need to write up the description. If I have to go before you’re done with the schematics, I’ll find a way for you to send them to me.” She reached across the table and placed her warm little hand on his wrist, pressing it encouragingly. “Like I’ve said, William, I have plans, and you’re a part of them. But it just wouldn’t be fair if my plans spoiled yours. They won’t. I promise.”

Will contemplated this. It satisfied the strict business requirements of their deal, but he did not find it very satisfying otherwise. In fact, the thought of Jenny leaving—going off into the cruel world by herself, with no one to watch out for her—was downright disheartening. He laid his larger hand over hers.

“Can you at least tell me what Claire meant when she said that you were doing something dangerous?”

Jenny drew a deep breath. Withdrawing her hand from beneath his, she lifted her head to fix him with a steady gaze. Will was struck by how her eyes—the color of the summer sky when she was cheerful—could become the color of tempered steel when she was annoyed.

“Why don’t you think of it this way?” she offered. “The word Claire should have used was
risky
. And yes, what I’m doing is risky.” She laid a hand on the stock pages. “But everything in life is risky. That doesn’t mean it’s dangerous. What I’m doing is not going to cause either of us any harm. All right?”

Will sighed. Nothing she’d said made him feel better. Picking up his mechanical pencil, he leaned back down over his work.

“All right,” he said, as he began drawing again. “Just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll ask me for help if you need it. Remember what you said? Geniuses need people to protect them.”

This made her smile softly, and blush, but she said nothing more.

Chapter Eleven

Working with a Will

T
WELVE DAYS UNTIL THE FULL MOON

Dear Will:

I am in receipt of your telegram confirming that you’ve sent Jenny home. Good for you. You’ve made a wise choice. I’ve had a very interesting letter from Mother describing the hullabaloo you’ve caused back home. She says Jenny made it a condition of her return that everyone had to stop bothering Tesla Industries about you. Loyal little wife you’ve got there! Sometime you’ll have to tell me what the hell you two were thinking. Didn’t I tell you to watch out for girls?

Mr. Hansen got Mother to agree, but apparently Father was a lot more pigheaded about it. So now she’s almost as mad at Father as she is at you. She knows it was his pigheadedness that drove you to take such desperate measures—and while it was her duty to support him, she can’t figure out why he was so riled up about you going to Tesla Industries in the first place, or why he cares so much now about getting you back.

Well, anyway. Leave them to hash it out amongst themselves. You’re at Tesla Industries, and the parents won’t be bothering you anymore, and I hope things can really get started for you in earnest. I am still hoping to come visit you, as I promised. It is very difficult to get away at the moment because we at the Institute are all working very hard on the promotion efforts for the new Dreadnought Stanton moving picture that Edison Studios is putting out.

It occurs to me that you’ve probably wondered just what it is I do at the Stanton Institute. Especially since it is a magical institution, and I’ve described at length how my ability to practice magic was taken from me at a young age.

My work isn’t especially glamorous (if you’ll excuse the pun). I’m what is called a Jefferson Chair, but that really reflects more of how my position is funded as opposed to what I actually do. My official title is Senior Mantic Research Associate. I compile detailed reports on magical artifacts of particular power or interest for Sophos Stanton. He uses my research—and the research of many others like me—to decide what artifacts he needs to take into the Institute’s safekeeping. Of course, his retrieval of said artifacts is usually not quite as dramatic as is portrayed in the pulp novels. Most of the time, in fact, we just buy them. But it’s a good day’s work, especially when we can take something particularly dangerous or malign out of the hands of those who might seek to use it for nefarious purposes.

Anyway, I will send you details about my arrival when I can. I am looking forward to seeing you in person. It’s been such a long time, and we have so much to discuss.

Your brother always,

Ben

A
ll the other apprentices at Tesla Industries got Sundays off. For them it meant a day of rest on which they could enjoy a special vegetarian meal in the cafeteria, a few extra hours of meditation in the Buddhist temple, or participation in a Tesla-approved gathering of unquestionable moral value. While the other apprentices—especially Court—grumbled about the dullness of their Sundays, Will would gladly have traded places with any of them, because it would have meant he didn’t have to deal with Jenny coming into his room at the crack of dawn to shake him awake.

“Good morning!” she chirped in his ear. “Let’s make the best use of this day, shall we?”

Growling, Will rolled over and turned his back to her. “Let’s just leave me the hell alone, shall we?” he mumbled sleepily. “
We’re
not doing anything but sleeping.”

Jenny gave him a firm shake. “This Sunday and next Sunday are the only two full days we’ve got to work before the patent has to go in,” she reminded him. “Come on, get up.”

Will found that he couldn’t care less. He was exhausted. In the past week, under Jenny’s merciless whip hand, he’d averaged little more than three hours of sleep a night. He had just drifted back into a peaceful slumber when a torrent of cold water came splashing down on his head. He leapt out of bed, spluttering. “Jesus!”

Jenny had retreated to the other side of the room, water glass in hand. She was trying to look firm and resolute but he could tell she was also trying not to giggle. He glared at her.

“It’s like living with Genghis Khan!” he yelled at her. “Can’t I take one stinking day off? Just a couple of stinking hours, even? Please?”

“No,” she said. “You can’t. This has to get finished, and it has to get finished before the end of this year. Remember? Plans?”

“Right,” Will sighed. “Plans.” He wiped water from his face. “Fine. I guess a couple weeks without sleep never killed anyone. Just made them
wish
they were dead.”

Jenny’s smile returned, brighter than ever. She handed him a towel.

“C’mon, there’s fresh coffee,” she said. “And I’ve got an idea that will make the time just fly.”

After shaving and dressing and downing two strong cups of coffee in succession, Will felt almost ready to face the morning, even though the sun hadn’t yet risen and the apartment was still pitch-dark. Arranging his implements before himself—t-squares and protractors and mechanical pencils—he winced as Jenny switched on the light that hung over the kitchen table.

As he was rolling up the sleeves of his old blue workshirt, he heard her gasp. He steeled himself to defend his sartorial rights—Sunday might be just another workday, but damned if he was going to dress up like it was!—but then he saw that she was looking not at his shirt, but at the burn on his arm.

“William! What on
earth
did you do to yourself?”