Codex Born (19 page)

I snatched up my satchel and pulled out an urban fantasy called
Heart of Stone
. The pages showed the faintest dusting of char, like someone had rubbed a pencil lead over the inner edges. I had used this book too often in my research, but I needed to understand what was going on out there. I yanked a pair of mirrored sunglasses from the story and slipped them on.

The enchanted lenses darkened my vision and painted a grid of glowing magical energy over the scene on the street. I could see the patches of wendigo skin, burning a sickly brown color that spread through the bodies of Harrison’s pet monsters. White light cocooned the automaton, the strands of Gutenberg’s magic encasing it in a dense web of power.

None of this was particularly unusual, though I rarely had to sort out so much magic all at once. But where I would normally have seen libriomantic magic pouring from the three books, there was only emptiness, like holes in the surrounding magic. Given what had happened to my spell back in the woods, I wasn’t entirely surprised that those holes formed the outlines of three people standing before the automaton.

Another blast of fire poured forth, and two of the figures moved in unison, stepping into the automaton’s magic and diverting it once again. The third joined in as the injured man retrieved his book from the street.

This wasn’t libriomancy. The books were…what, exactly?
Lamps for magic-eating genies? Charms to allow the ones who carried them to magically project themselves? Were the books simply bodies for a kind of creature we’d never before encountered or cataloged? Or were these the ghosts Nicholas had talked about, the ones who had distracted him from his conversation with Victor?

Two of the wendigos were dragging August Harrison toward a black pickup down the street. I aimed through the broken window and tried to stop them, but they got Harrison around the far side of the truck before I could fire. I adjusted the setting and sent a bolt of lightning into the truck, and was rewarded with the sight of one wendigo leaping back.

Unfortunately, my attack drew the attention of one of the three ghosts, or whatever they were. “Incoming!”

My warning did little good. Nobody else could see the figure that flew through the doorway, hesitated, then dove
through
Deb’s body. Deb’s magic dimmed, and she stumbled backward. The ghost continued to swirl around her, feeding on her power. And I had no idea how to make it stop.

Maybe another target would help. I jumped up and sent a volley of electricity toward the battle. One of the two remaining ghosts intercepted the shots, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Deb fall as her attacker turned to me.

I flung the gun out the window. It followed the weapon, and when it finished, not a trace of magic remained in my shock-gun.

A full-sized van, dark blue with tinted windows, screeched to a halt in the middle of the street. The remnants of Harrison’s team crammed inside as the ghosts continued to hold back the automaton. The ghosts vanished a moment later as both the van and the pickup truck sped away.

I ran out the door and waved my arms at the automaton. “Stop them, you overgrown pile of Lincoln Logs! Get August Harrison!”

It stepped after the van, then stopped as if confused. The damn thing reminded me of Nidhi’s idiot cat, whom I had once observed chasing a fly across the kitchen, only to stop halfway
and look around as if she had completely forgotten why she was in such a hurry.

“Go!” I yelled.

The automaton jolted back to life and began to run. It disappeared in mid-step, reappearing at the intersection in a flash of light. The truck screeched to a halt, but once again the automaton failed to finish the job. It stood dumbly as the van turned left and the truck sped off to the right. It snapped out of its trance again seconds later and resumed its pursuit.

“Not good.” I sagged against the wall and turned to look at the damage we had done. Broken glass littered the house. The door was destroyed. The road outside was even worse, from cars that had been ripped apart to the cratered blacktop and smoking yard beyond. Sirens were approaching in the distance. I fetched my phone and hit redial.

“Nicola? It’s Isaac again. I think we’re going to need some help cleaning this one up.”

Deb was in lousy shape, but she appeared to have recovered from whatever it was the ghost had done to her. She limped down the driveway to meet the approaching police cars.

The cars stopped a short distance from the house. Deb waited with arms spread as uniformed officers exited their cars with guns drawn. They crouched behind the front of the cars, where the engine blocks would provide cover against incoming fire.

I couldn’t blame them. Between the damage we had done and the sight of Deb DeGeorge standing there bruised and bloody, her skin making her look partially mummified, I wouldn’t have gone near her either.

I could see the moment Deb touched their minds. She might not have been as powerful as Sarah, but she was strong enough to lure her prey into dropping their guard. The police officers lowered their weapons, and by the time they reached Deb, they moved with a slow, relaxed pace that made me think
they were sleepwalking. Deb had gotten stronger since the last time I saw her.

As soon as they were fully distracted, I ran outside to retrieve my shock-gun. It was dead, as I had expected, but that could be fixed. You had to be careful, but it actually took less energy to use a book to re-form an existing magical item than to create it from scratch.

When I entered the house again, the crackle of bone and popping joints filled the room. Jeff had managed to tug off the moonstone necklace. It was glowing beneath the couch where he must have kicked it to block the light. When he finished wrenching himself back to human form, he collapsed into an old recliner and started pulling on his underwear and pants.

I grabbed my jacket from the floor, pulled
Time Kings
from one of my pockets to fix my gun, then froze. Mister Sanchez was staring at us from the hallway. The black Lab cowered behind his legs.

I watched as he gathered his courage. His hands were shaking, but he straightened and stepped closer. “What are you?”

Nidhi spun. “I asked you to stay in the bathroom, Laszio.”

He stared at the broken window and door, the bloodstained carpet, and the ruins of the yard and street outside. “This is about the man who used to live here? The one who was murdered.”

“Yes,” said Nidhi.

He gave a small nod, looking simultaneously grateful and frightened by her honesty.

“We’ll find a way to cover the damages,” I said softly. If the Porters wouldn’t take care of this, then I would, and to hell with the rules. There were plenty of books I could use to produce everything from gold to gemstones.

His attention flitted about, stopping briefly with Jeff, then moving to Lena and her broken sword, and finally to me. His gaze dipped to Smudge. “Your spider. Is it on fire?”

I looked down. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Laszio, look at me.” Nidhi moved to impose herself between him and the rest of us. “We came here because of Victor
Harrison, but this fight wasn’t about him. It was about us. You and your family will be safe once we’re gone.”

He managed a nervous smile. “No offense intended, Doctor Shah, but if that is the case, I hope you’ll leave quickly.”

“We will,” Nidhi promised.

And once we were gone, Nicola would send someone to alter the family’s memories, just as easily as a Hollywood writer reworked a script. Just as Deb was manipulating the minds of the police outside, burying the truth beneath layers of magical falsehoods.

“He’s a fire-spider. His name is Smudge.” I think the words surprised me as much as anyone else. Nidhi gave me a sharp look, but didn’t argue when I lifted Smudge’s cage to eye level. With my other hand, I grabbed the Red Hots. “I created him when I was in high school. He’s saved my life several times.”

I brought a candy to the edge of the cage and waited for Smudge to snatch it up.

Laszio took a half-step closer, the fear in his eyes joined by a glimmer of curiosity. “He eats junk food?”

“Every chance he gets,” I said. “He loves chocolate, but that can get messy. He tends to melt it, and you end up with stains all over the carpet.”

Laszio looked down at the bloody, blackened carpet. “Yes. We wouldn’t want that.”

He sounded so serious, and I laughed before I could stop myself. He joined in a moment later, though I think it was more a release of fear and exhaustion than humor.

“The fire,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt him?”

“It’s how he protects himself. How he protects me and helps me to stop people like the ones who attacked your home.”

“I don’t understand.” Laszio kept watching as Smudge devoured his treat.

“I know,” said Nidhi. “Neither did I, the first time I saw something like this. You’re handling it far better than I did.”

I doubted that, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I returned Smudge’s cage to my hip and opened
Time Kings
. Laszio
flinched when I lifted the gun. He looked back to the hall, and I knew he was thinking about his wife and children.

“It’s all right.” I shoved the gun back into the pages, letting the words and images of the readers transform the weapon from an empty relic back into a fully-charged shock-gun. “This is what we do.”

“Ay dios mio,”
he whispered. Both Nidhi and Lena were watching him very closely now, ready to intervene if he lost it. “Those creatures outside. What did they want?”

“You should see to your family,” Nidhi interrupted. “Reassure them. We will be gone very soon, and I promise we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

I took that as my cue. “Lena and Jeff, could you come with me? We need to inspect every house on this street to make sure Harrison’s swarm left with him.”

I pocketed the shock-gun. Deb appeared to have things under control outside. One of the police cars was already pulling away, its sirens dark.

“Why did you tell him about Smudge?” Lena asked as we exited the house.

“Because it didn’t matter.” I was surprised at the anger boiling up inside me. “Because we’re going to rip every memory of today from his head. Not to protect them, but to protect
us
.”

They wouldn’t remember what had happened, but we couldn’t completely erase the trauma. Even after we stole their memories, they would be exhausted and jumpy for a long time.

Lena stopped at the end of the driveway to pick up the broken mailbox. She twisted the post free and turned it in her hands, shaping it into a serviceable club. Then she looked back at the house. She stood there for so long I thought something was wrong. Had she spotted one of Harrison’s bugs? But when I touched her shoulder, she merely turned to kiss my cheek. “I think you’re wrong,” she said softly. “I think it did matter.”

None of the neighbors had emerged to see what was happening. I took that to mean they hadn’t yet woken from Sarah’s
magic slumber. Smudge didn’t turn into a fireball when we entered the first house, which was another encouraging sign.

“Do you think the automaton will be able to stop them?” Lena asked.

I thought about August Harrison and his swarm, the half-breed wendigos, and the ghosts that had devoured our magic. “No.”