Advanced Mythology (36 page)

Keith was alarmed at the tone of panic in his voice. “What’s the matter?”

“There are people outside the farm. They’ve been here three days already. We’re staying out of sight, but the constant scrutiny is making us nervous. So far they have not managed to come onto the property, yet they will not go away.”

Keith sat up straight. “How many people?”

“Six men and a woman. She has black hair and wears furs.”

“Oh, my God, the scary lady. She can sense magic. She’ll figure out what you are. Is there a big guy? Brown hair, laser beam blue eyes, fancy coat?”

“There’s one like that,” Holl said.

“He’s their leader. Do not, repeat, do not let him get his hands on you. Don’t even let them see you.”

“We have stayed out of sight, but we cannot stop all comings and goings. Marcy went out for groceries. They tried to follow her when she returned. They could not go through the aversions, but they are not giving up. We raised the wards again, but such a thing takes time to come fully into effect. Everyone is frightened. They’re afraid of being taken prisoner, like Dola was. Can these Big Folk break down the protection charm? Do they have the means?”

“I don’t know.” Keith got up and began to pace, one hand twisted in his hair, wishing that he could teleport down to the farm and see for himself. “Can’t you make yourselves vanish, the way I’ve been doing?”

“Don’t be silly. We need to see one another.”

“This is terrible,” Keith said. His mind raced. “You can’t let them see you. The rest of us could protect you. You could teach us some kind of concealment charm. If we can make you seem to vanish, maybe they’ll go away.”

“Who is the rest of us?”

“Well, you know. The other Big students. I could teach Diane—no, not Diane,” Keith corrected himself, since she hadn’t spoken to him in a month, “—and some of the others how to do the ‘Look the other way’ charm, and maybe some of us could help with avoidance spells. We wouldn’t even have to come onto the property. We could set up shop in the forest preserve next door.”

Holl was silent for a long time. Keith checked to make sure they hadn’t been cut off.

“Hello?” he said.

“Keith Doyle, I have to tell you something that Enoch should have months ago. There is no one else. You’re the only Big Person we’ve ever found who can do what we do, cast the same charms we cast. Before you, no one had ever asked. Since you began to learn, we have looked hard at other Big students who come to us, but you have potential that no other has had.”

“But that’s not true,” Keith said. “What about my brother? He could get the whole Fairy Godmothers Union involved, or the genies. They do magic.”

“With a wand or a lamp,” Holl corrected him. “And they have many restrictions upon their talent. It may not be the true wish of a child to save us, and where will you find enough lamps?”

Keith became very still as realization dawned upon him.

“Then it’s just me,” he said simply. “All right. Holl, you’ve got to stop everyone from doing magic. Nothing. Don’t plug leaks, don’t enchant shortbread molds, don’t swat flies. No anti-teething charms. Just turn up the electric fence, and sit tight.”

“What are you going to do?” Holl asked.

“I’m going to get their attention,” Keith said resolutely. He hung up on Holl’s protest.

* * *

Beach paced up and down before the narrow driveway like a tiger in a cage. How frustrating to be so close to his goal, but not to be able to enter it!

A rustic sign next to the drive identified the property as Hollow Tree Farm. He was frustrated. All the threads he’d been following had come together at last, but they ended in one large knot. The database that Vasques had copied from the Chicago art gallery had an entry in its vendor file for Hollow Tree Studios, using the same UPS account as Hollow Tree Industries. If only he had known that Doyle was selling fine artwork as well as toys and trash, he could have ended this hunt a long time ago! In Galleria Tony, Maria had gone after the scent like a bloodhound but because they hadn’t known what they were looking at, they had not made the connection. He had wasted time, something he abhorred. He had a personal score to settle with Keith Doyle. The boy had lied to him about everything. Impressive, in a way. He wouldn’t have thought a soft American suburbanite would have had the guts.

He had power, though. Try as they might, they could not go farther along the driveway than the first dip. One step more brought them smack into an invisible barrier as impenetrable as a brick wall. No, not a wall, but a compulsion to go away.
Very
impressive.

“The spirits are gone!” Maria complained, huddled in her fur hood. “All of the magic has gone away!”

“Ridiculous,” Beach said. “How can it be there one moment and gone the next?”

“I do not know, but it is as if it was never here.”

Stefan cleared his throat. “This is maybe why Maria cannot always feel this place,” he said. “It is only magical perhaps when Doyle calls upon the power?”

“I don’t know how it works! I can’t find the young fool! Can you see Doyle anywhere?” Beach demanded, as Vasques came around the corner from the north. VW were using binoculars to scan the land. According to the plat of survey, the boy owned 20 acres. Most of it was farmland, but there were thin patches of woods, and a stream wove most of the way around the perimeter.

The swarthy operative shook his head. “Not so far. I saw that girl again. Not the same one who was in Chicago. Dark hair.”

“I’ll have Ming run the license plates from that land barge she drives. Wait, what’s that?”

“I dunno. The girl?”

“No,” Beach said. “Someone with light hair. Give me those binoculars. Hurry!”

He grabbed the glasses and peered through them. Before the person behind the window dropped out of sight he had a brief glimpse of large eyes, silver-white hair and tall, pointed ears. Beach goggled. “Did you see that?”

“Oh my God,” Vasques breathed. “It was, like, a pixie, only bigger. A whaddaycallem, a fairy?”

“So that’s what Doyle is hiding!” Beach exclaimed, amazed and delighted. “What are they? And where is Doyle?”

***

Chapter 34

“I’ll bring the boat back in about an hour,” Keith called as he steered the light motor launch away from the rental slip at Navy Pier out onto Lake Michigan.

“No problem,” the owner called, waving a hand at him. “Enjoy!”

Keith angled the boat south, aiming for the mouth of the Chicago River. The weather was mild for early spring, so he tossed his hat and scarf under the low seat. It’d be plenty warm soon.

For the sake of his friends he was determined to take on Beach and his minions. He had always feared the day would come when somebody tried to invade the Little Folks’ space. Now the worst had happened: somebody had discovered where they were, somebody who knew what they were and what they could do. Keith had to draw them away from the farm. The scary lady could feel it when people were doing magic. That should have dawned on him when she found the “glamour” on him, several months back. She was attracted to the emanations from the farm. Well, in just a few minutes he was going to make the biggest dent in the mental airwaves since Merlin moved Stonehenge. That should bring the creeps running north again faster than you could say “Abracadabra.”

His control had improved enormously after living for months in the shelter of the misdirection charm, but his natural strength wasn’t enough to do what he had in mind. He needed an external source of power. Thanks to Liri and Rily, he had found the biggest river of power in the state, and it happened to flow directly underneath the Chicago River itself. He couldn’t draw on it unless he was right on top of it, but that was easily remedied, with an outlay of cash and a little fast talking. It was possible he’d get in a lot of trouble for doing what he was about to do, but the date was on his side.

The little green motor launch putt-putted into the canyon of buildings. Before Keith started looking for his power source, it found him. He knew what it felt like when Holl put out a thread of sense, like a tickle at the back of his mind. The well of magical energy underneath the river reached up to prod the tiny intruder coming into its midst. The sensation nearly knocked him out of the boat, like Moby-Dick capsizing Ahab’s ship. Hastily, he pulled back all his feelers, and waited while the giant presence sniffed him all over, then subsided, evidently deciding there was no harm in him. He hoped it would feel that way when he was through.

“Hey,” he asked it, “would you like to come to a party?”

Traffic on the river was light that day, for which he was grateful. He brought the launch to a halt well lakeward from the first bridge and shut off the engine. He didn’t have to worry about concealing his presence, since he knew Beach’s entire gang was at that moment besieging the farm.

Focusing hard, he began building the mental structure that underlay his fire charm. When he and Enoch had discussions about doing magic, the black-haired elf always told him to create a stable base in his mind so that the evocation of the charm itself was like setting light to the tinder under a bonfire. How apt a metaphor
that
was. Over time he’d internalized the process until it was second nature, just like the way his friends did it. His usual trick was to hold his hand as though there was a lighter in it, and let the flame hover above the circle described by his thumb and forefinger. This time, the difference in scale would be massive.

“Scary lady,” Keith said, moving to stand in the very center of the boat, “this is for you.”

He threw his arms wide and his mental ring wider, creating the world’s largest thumb circle for a practical joke, and lit his imaginary fuse.

Whoosh!
A blazing column of flame shot up from the depths of the river. Keith hit the deck, huddled in fetal position to shelter his face, but even close up the blaze wasn’t that hot. The fire was well contained by all the preparation he’d done. Keith uncurled and sat enjoying his pillar of fire as it shot heavenward like a geyser, ten, twenty stories into the air. White-hot light lit up the river, reflecting off the water, the bridge, and windows of the hotels and office buildings to either side. He could almost see the gleam on the underside of the fluffy white cloud way overhead. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, a dozen Fourth of July fireworks displays all rolled up into one big Roman candle. That ought to do it.

He heard a siren echoing down the river. A fancy speedboat with a revolving blue light on top arrowed toward him. Keith let the flames die down into the water, and sat waiting for the police boat. One of the two uniformed officers raised a loud-hailer.

“Sir, drop any weapons and put your hands in the air!”

Keith raised his arms up over his head. They pulled alongside.

“All right, buddy,” said the first cop, a burly man in his fifties with graying black hair and a pockmarked complexion, “what’s the big idea?”

“April Fool!” Keith called out.

“What?”

“It’s April Fool’s Day!”

“What’s the joke?” the other policeman asked. He was a young African-American with a long jaw.

“Oh,
you
know,” Keith said with an innocent grin, “making a bonfire on the river. Like the East River in New York, the one that actually caught fire? Well, the Chicago River’s not polluted like that one.” He smiled at them, trying to make it sound obvious. “That’s why it’s a joke.”

“Oh, yeah,” the younger policeman nodded, looking as though he thought he understood. “It looked cool. I saw photographers running from the two newspaper buildings. You’ll probably make the papers.”

“Hope so!” Keith said cheerfully.

“It’s dangerous to play around with fire like that,” the senior officer said.

“I was careful,” Keith assured them.

“What kind of incendiary device did you use?”

“Nothing but the power of positive thinking. No explosives, no chemicals. I didn’t even drop a gum wrapper. Look for yourself!”

The policemen did, scanning the surface of the river. Except for a few fish that probably wished they could blink, Keith hadn’t left a permanent mark anywhere. He showed them his most harmless geek-face.

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“Well …” the older officer began, looking Keith over thoughtfully. “You can’t really call it criminal damage to property. I mean, setting fire to the river? It was weird, but it doesn’t seem to have endangered anyone else. I don’t see any debris or chemical residue. It’s not like you dumped dye in the fountain on St. Patrick’s Day. Okay. You can go.”

“Great!” Keith looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work. My lunch hour’s almost over. And I’m expecting a very important phone call.”

“Gedadda here,” the older officer said, with a half-amused, half-annoyed wave. He nodded to his partner, who clambered back behind the wheel.

Keith didn’t have long to wait for his call. The kingfisher-blue cell phone erupted, sounding almost frantic. He took it out of his pocket with delicate thumb and forefinger, and touched the SEND button.

“Hell-oooo-ooo?” he asked musically.

“
What did you do?
”

“Got your attention, didn’t it?” Keith asked pleased. Beach sounded mad enough to chew solid metal.

“
Where the hell are you?
”

“In a motorboat. But that’s not important right now,” Keith said. “We need to meet.”

“Where? Down here at your property?”

Keith blanched, hearing the farm referred to as his, but knew it would be better if he played along. The guy didn’t deserve an explanation. “No. Somewhere neutral. Meet me … in front of Sue. The day after tomorrow. One o’clock.”

“Sue? Sue
who
?”

But Keith didn’t say anything else. Ignoring the shouting coming from the receiver, he just punched the END button and put the phone back in his pocket. Humming, he started up the motor and drove the boat back to Navy Pier.

* * *

“Sue?” Beach snapped, speeding back along the narrow rural road toward Chicago, heedless of the speed limit or the safety of the others in the car. “Who is Sue?”

Stefan, in the front passenger seat, cleared his throat sheepishly. “The tyrannosaur.”

“The what?”

“Big skeleton, in the museum.” He tilted his head toward Maria in the back, sandwiched between Vasques and Wyzsinski. “We went to see it our first day in Chicago. Is very impressive.”

“Hurry, Beach,” Maria said agitatedly. “The spirits call me. He is stronger than ever we dreamed.”

“Yes,” Beach said, leaning over the wheel. He ground his back teeth together, glaring at the lane ahead. “We underestimated him again. I’ve got to stop letting that silly face of his fool me.”

* * *

A few minutes later Keith’s phone rang again.

“They are leaving,” Holl said. “The woman became very upset and made the men get into their cars.”

“It worked like a charm, then. Sorry about the pun. On to phase two!”

“Be careful, Keith Doyle.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Keith said blithely. “I’m on a roll. Stay battened down.”

* * *

Though the huge, classic hall was filled with people, Beach had no trouble spotting the bright hair of his adversary. The boy stood at his leisure, leaning against a rail just beneath the fearsome five-foot skull that Stefan whispered to him was Sue.

Beach nodded to his associates, who spread out throughout the crowd surrounding the dinosaur skeleton display. He pushed through until he was standing before Keith. The boy looked up at him with lazy interest, not seeming at all afraid of him. When had the balance of power slipped his way? Beach cudgeled himself mentally. When he’d come running at the boy’s command, that was when. Well, it was going to change back, right quick.

“Hi,” Keith said. “You’re exactly on time. Can you believe it? This is supposed to be the most complete skeleton of a T. Rex ever unearthed. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Beach almost spluttered with indignation as questions burst out of him. “What are you? Who are those people in your farmhouse? How are you doing what you’re doing? Did you inherit the ability? And why are you making knick-knacks when you could be making weapons?”

“Weapons?” Keith said innocently, enjoying the beet-red color rising on the big man’s face. He glanced around. Stefan and the others had to be pretty close. He needed to keep his escape route open. “That’s for people with enemies, right? No one hates me. They think I’m a goof. You did for a long time, didn’t you? But you don’t now. Do you?”

He was taking his text right out of the comic books he used to read as a kid. It was amazing how easily the Evil Overlord trope clicked into place. Keith only hoped he was channeling Professor Moriarty instead of turning into someone like him.

“Yeah, I did,” Beach said, pulling himself together with a visible effort. “I won’t underestimate you anymore. We’ve got your number now.”

“Fine. Then we understand one another,” Keith said, one eyebrow raised loftily. “I want you to leave … my property alone. And stop following me around. What’ll it take?”

“I want your power,” Beach said, loudly enough for Keith to want to shush him, but the deafening roar in the high museum hall kept anyone not standing immediately beside the two men from hearing him. Still, Beach noticed the concerned look on his face. “You’re trying to keep your power a secret. Let me put it this way. If you choose not to cooperate, I will make my knowledge public. With one word,” he held up a cell phone not unlike Keith’s, “I will unleash an e-mail barrage which will make your cover company’s annual output look like a mimeograph machine. Everything about you and your mysterious cohorts down south will be known around the world in minutes, and you won’t be able to call it back.”

Keith frowned dramatically. Pat had coached him all morning on how to look desperately reluctant. “How do I know you won’t do it anyhow?”

“If you cooperate?” Beach shook his head. “There’s no honor among thieves, Mr. Doyle, but I’m not a thief. I am a businessman, and this is a transaction.”

“I see,” Keith said, moving away from the rail. Two eight-year-olds had been digging into his sides trying to get behind him anyway. “What do you want?”

“Now we’re getting to specifics,” Beach said. He looked to his right and left. The dark-eyebrowed man and another huge thug appeared out of the crowd and flanked Keith.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Keith said, with a glare at the two thugs which made them take a step backward.

“You bet you’re not. I want to learn how to do what you do. You’ve managed to make yourself invisible for six months. Teach me that. You caused some kind of disturbance that Maria picked up on all the way downstate. Teach me that. You hold the secret to those little toys that can make fire or store images, all without technology. I want to be able to do those things. Once I can,” Beach said, sweeping a hand sideways, “no worries. You’ll never see me again.”

“Or your minions?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow. The huge thug on his right seemed to take offense at the word “minion.” He started to move toward Keith.

Beach swept up a hand, stopping the man in his tracks. “None of us will ever cross paths with you. We’ll respect one another’s territories. Fellow wizards. What do you say?”

Broodily, Keith put his chin on his knuckle and his elbow in his other palm. He took a dramatic moment to consider. “Very well,” he said mysteriously. “I have to prepare. You will hear from me. Now, leave me alone. I have work to do.”

With that, he brought all his strength to bear, focusing the vision of three grown men on a nearly-invisible spot on the floor.

By the time they freed their gaze, he was gone.

* * *

“What do you plan to do?” Holl asked.

With the kingfisher phone held to his ear, Keith tripped lightly down the stairs of the Field Museum, knowing that he had at least a five-minute head start on his adversaries. “I’ll give them what they want, of course. It’ll be great.”

Holl sounded skeptical. “Great? Beach wants you to grant him something that comes from natural talent, instruction, hard work, and years of practice.”

“Right,” Keith said blithely. “So it must be easy to pass along, mustn’t it? See you in a couple of days. I’ve got to get back to work.”