The Conclave of Shadow (9 page)

“He got himself carried in to where we were being held hostage, rolled in this old carpet that had metal threads through it. Silver and gold. Asha dragged me through. He got trapped when he tried to follow. Resonance built up after too much prolonged contact. Helluva way to find out you're half-Djinn, huh?” She shrugged and went back to shuffling artifacts around when my appalled expression refused to give way to anything approaching humor. “Well, it was for me.”

“Abby, I–”

“What about you?”

I wasn't surprised by the subject change. That sort of confidence required a bit of time to process. But I wasn't sure why she'd decided to change the topic to me. “What about me?”

“Oh come
on
, Masters. You are the poster child for fucked up family relations. Or you would be, if anyone knew who you were. What about your family? I assume you didn't spring fully grown from your grandfather's head. What happened to your mother? Your father?”

When had this become share time? I straightened the band on my hat and wished Sadakat and La Reina hadn't left. Fucking São Paolo. “My grandfather never knew who my father was, and my mother died when I was born. My grandfather raised me. He's the only one I talk about because he's the only one I had.”

Which was both true and not true. Johnny was my family. Doris Han and her brood. Jian Huo had become my family. And there were my kids. I jammed my hat back on my head and then had to fix the resulting dent. “Satisfied?”

“Not really. You never wondered? What your mom was like, what happened to your dad. He could still be out there, you know.”

I suspected a bit of transference on Abby's part – absent fathers and all that – which was the only reason I didn't shut the conversation down. I sat a little straighter, let the shadows creep back over my face. “No, I never wondered. Of the two who might still be out there, I'm more inclined to be concerned about Mitchell.”

Abby wouldn't let me retreat. She snatched the hat from my head and held it out of reach. “That's weird. You know that's weird, right.”

I scowled at her, but I refused to play keep-away. “Look, it was always my grandfather and me. He talked about my Grandma Anne more than he talked about my mother or father. It never… it just wasn't important. By the time I realized it was something that mattered to other people, my grandfather was gone and I had bigger shit to worry about.”

“No. No, that is not how this works.” Abby threw my hat back at me. “I grew up without a parent. Everything reminds you of that lack. The stories you read, the stuff in movies and on TV. Star Wars and Harry Potter and every Disney movie ever fucking made about kids with lost parents. The other kids at school and parent-teacher night and Daddy-and-me dances. I'm not saying a two-parent home is necessary or better in any way. I'm just saying that when you grow up without one, the world makes sure you know you're missing something. And you care.”

My jaw had tightened during her rant to the point where my teeth ached with clenching. Deep breathing kept me from trembling, but the unsteadiness escaped with every breath. I couldn't find the words to answer her around the rush of blood to my face and ears. I stood, and that seemed to help as much as the deep breathing had.

“I know what happened to my mother. She died. I couldn't care less what happened to my father or my grandfather. They left. I think we're done here.”

Abby left off glaring at me to look at the final collection. “Yeah. Fine. I can finish up on my own.”

“Then I will meet you at the Academy whenever Sadakat and La Reina return.” Donning my hat and pulling the shadows back around my face, I quit the room. The loud clacking of my heels on the hallway formica was an unsatisfying vent to my anger.

S
everal days passed
before I got a text from Abby letting me know that everything was ready. The California Academy of Sciences was dark when I arrived on the appointed night of our ritual, no yellow crime scene tape to be seen, but a pall lingered. The veil still felt thin here, the darkness thick as velvet. I wriggled my fingers and could almost feel it against my pads like the softness of cat fur.

Abby and two agents waited for me by the front entry. “Old Man,” she said. We hadn't spoken since our conversation about families, and it seemed we weren't going to speak of it now. “This is Agent Fuller. Agent Byrd. They're in charge of security. They're having a field day up there. Take us up, Fuller.”

The more baby-faced of the two agents – Byrd – frowned. “We'll need some sort of identification.”

“Gimme your flashlight.” Abby took it from the agent and shone it in my face. I refrained from flinching away. The shadows around my face were more than enough to withstand the glare of a flashlight. Fuller also managed not to flinch, though Byrd didn't exhibit such self-control. Abby handed the flashlight back to him. “Proof enough?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Fuller led us through the atrium and up the main stairwell. The displays from the Argent exhibit had been cleared out, even the model of the
Kestrel
and the fountain of clacking pins. The only light came from the rainforest dome, a soft blue glow that fluttered occasionally with the passing of birds and butterflies.

After the quiet of the building below, the activity on the rooftop was jarring. Floodlights lit the observation platform and the faces of the seven model hills. The grass covering those hills was a bit wilted from all the people tramping over them to set up more lights and cables and pedestals atop every hill with the nodes we'd selected from Abby's collection.

No wonder Argent had trouble attracting qualified magic practitioners. My solitary translation in a darkened room was the proper environment for such workings. This circus… was not.

I spotted Sadakat first, her shell-pink hijab standing out from all the dark suits. Abby and I made our way to her side. “You have to dismiss all of these people, or this won't work,” I said.

She cast me a rueful sidelong glance and a tired smile. “I know. I have told them this. But our security heads are insistent, and they have some legitimate concerns after Lahore, Melbourne, São Paolo, and Johannesburg.”

“Johannesburg?”

Sadakat grimaced. “There was another attack last night.”

I bit my inner lip to keep from cursing. Stupid. I was so stupid. Lung Di had warned me. I'd watched Sadakat and La Reina take off to deal with São Paolo, and it still hadn't occurred to me that I had tools at my disposal. “I have a set of sigils that might help ward against these attacks. I'll give them to you after we're done here. Where's La Reina?”

Sadakat looked up. “Patrolling. If our actions invite another incursion, she'll be more useful than this entire lot, no matter how well trained they are.”

I nodded. Nobody could be trained for something like this. “How much weight do I have to bring to bear here?”

Sadakat's brows raised, and some of the exhaustion lifted from her eyes and shoulders. “Mr Masters, where Shadow is concerned, you are the proverbial eight hundred-pound gorilla.”

“Excellent. You lot!” I raised my voice and pointed at… everyone, really. I swept my arm to include the agents fiddling with the cables leading to the floodlights. “All of you. Finish whatever critical task you're about and then leave.”

“Mr Masters.” Agent Fuller exchanged a look with the agent he'd been conferring with – I recognized her as the young woman with the crush on Skyrocket. “The Academy has requested these security precautions to avoid another incident. Our presence is a requirement for our use of this facility.”

“And your absence is a requirement of my assistance. Go. All of you.” When he hesitated, I tipped my hat. “Or I can go. It makes no nevermind to me.” I headed for the stairs.

“No, wait.” Fuller's outstretched hand closed into a fist when he realized I'd backed him into acquiescence. He exchanged a few more words with his associate, and she left to round up the other agents.

In very little time, the rooftop was cleared of everyone but myself, Abby, and Sadakat.

“Old Man, some days I could just kiss you,” Abby said into the descending quiet.

“I do hope you'll manage to restrain yourself, professor,” I murmured in reply, watching a gold-lit figure descend, the tails of her duster rising with the currents caused by her churning wings. La Reina landed on the edge of the platform and came to join us.

“The area is clear,” she said. “The veil is thin, but I don't sense demons amassing on the other side. You?” She gave me an expectant look. Accepted my nod with one of her own. “We'll summon the fire demon at the convergence of the seven nodes and the four quarters. That should contain her until we can secure her cooperation.”

“You're certain this contract is binding? That she'll abide by the terms?” I murmured. From what little I knew about Asha, she didn't seem the sort to keep her word or follow the rules.

La Reina plucked a feather from her wing – one of the long flight feathers, gold-tipped and easily the length of my forearm. Jaw tense, she set the feather in the center of the geomantic diagram the Argent agents had crafted out of tape and chalk. “If she does not wish to permanently join my Host, she will. Let us begin.”

La Reina's ritual was very different from the sorts of ceremonies I'd become accustomed to during my years in China. The numerology in particular had me cringing as she called the four quarters and invoked the protection of the four archangels as represented by the four elements and four and four and four.

“Not inspiring of confidence,” I muttered as I initiated my portion of the ritual. I chalked my translated sigils along the taped lines of the seven-pointed star that connected the seven hills and the seven bits of metallic junk that we had deemed most resonant with our quarry. According to Sadakat, their combined resonance would create a prison that Asha wouldn't be able to escape from without trapping herself permanently in one of the artifacts.

Assuming we were able to call her to our location in the first place.

“Turn off the floodlights,” I instructed when I was done with the sigils. The lights flickered out, leaving us bathed only in the ambient orange glow of the city. I took my position in the north quarter, waited for my three associates to take theirs, and began reciting the verbal translation of La Reina's Enochian summoning ritual. I went slowly so as not to stumble over the Shadow speech. Shimizu's
Klaatu Barada Nikto
was forefront in my thoughts. I was
not
going to foul this up with a stupid pronunciation error.

The darkness around us thickened, grew heavier, taking on the cat-fur feel I'd sensed on the ground level. The ambient light receded. In the east and west, Abby and Sadakat shifted uncomfortably. Across from me in the south, La Reina held herself still and ready, only the sound of the breeze ruffling her feathers differentiating her from a statue. I rubbed the pads of my fingers against my thumb and continued reciting.

As I spoke the last syllable, something crackled along the tape lines, a quick
buzz-snap
! like the charge of an active bug zapper. I held still, searching the darkness as I knew the others could not. Except for a faint smoke that rose from the tape lines and smelled of ozone, I didn't see anything out of place.

“You said this would only work if she was in the Shadow Realms?” I asked La Reina.

She nodded. She, too, was looking around, wings raising and taking on a soft glow that was still too bright for me to look at. “We will have to try again later and hope she didn't sense this attempt.”

“You didn't mention that was a danger,” Abby said, enunciating each word with the care of the supremely pissed off.

La Reina's wings rustled and dimmed as she shrugged. “It is always a danger, especially with a trained practitioner, as I suspect she must be.”

I looked around again. Granted, I had no idea what a successful ritual was supposed to feel like, but that bug-zapping charge hadn't felt like failure.

“Your chalk,” I whispered to Sadakat. “Give it to me.”

She cast me a puzzled look, but she handed over the chalk without argument. In the center of our circle, I scrawled out the string of sigils that had gotten us into this mess. The moment I chalked the final diacritical, I reached through the non-existent veil, grabbed what lurked on the other side, and pulled with all my might.

I emerged with a squirming armful. Nails raked at my face, knocked my hat askew. A braid thick as a rope whipped against my shoulder.

“Abby,” I grunted. “
Someone
. Grab her. I need to close the veil.”

Asha's struggling form was dragged from my grasp. I used my coat to smudge out the first set of sigils, then scrabbled for the chalk to scrawl a second set outside the boundaries of our circle, setting down the counter-ward so that she couldn't flee the way she'd come.

I sank back on my haunches, breathing heavily. My hat appeared before me. I looked up. Abby held it out to me, grinning wide enough to split her face.

“I owe you one, Old Man. We got her.”

“
T
his isn't getting
us anywhere,” Abby growled after an hour of Sadakat and La Reina explaining Asha's situation to her and the requirements for her freedom. Asha sat in the center of our seven-pointed binding, turning La Reina's feather over and over in her hand. She had met those explanations with silent composure, her gaze never leaving Abby.

And Abby, who had agreed to let cooler heads try to prevail, was finally losing patience with that steady gaze. She and I stood in the shadows at the edge of the observation platform, but that didn't seem to prevent Asha from noticing Abby's growing agitation. Every time Abby shifted position, Asha's full lips tightened with the hint of a smirk. When I placed a restraining hand on Abby's arm in response to her low growl, one of Asha's perfectly drawn brows lifted.