Dearest Mother of Mine
Page 20

A shock of cold froze my chest. "He—he's dead?" Everything had happened so fast I hadn't had time to see the results of my strike.
"Yes, from what I have determined, he died upon impact."
I didn't exactly go around killing people, and even though the man had been trying to kill me, I still felt sick to my stomach. I'd accepted killing in self-defense as something necessary, but hoped I would never cross the line to cold-hearted lack of concern for life.
Lornicus resumed after a brief pause. "Unfortunately, this man also happened to be Victor Kassus."
"Kassus?" I said, my dread deepening. "You mean—"
"Yes. The man was Maulin Kassus's brother."
Chapter 13
His brother? "Now it's personal." A nauseating feeling turned my stomach. I'd seen enough mafia movies to know gangsters never gave up. It might be ten years later or a hundred, but a bullet to the brain was inevitable.
"Indeed," Lornicus said. "I must admit Kassus surprised me with the sheer manpower he devoted to finding you, and determined there must be some other factor in play. True, he would still want you dead for the insult of attacking any of the brotherhood, but would typically content himself using an outside contractor."
"Like an assassin?" I said, trying not to gulp.
"Precisely." Lornicus paused a beat. "Once I discovered the death and the deceased's relationship to Kassus, I immediately understood why this was a personal vendetta."
"They tried to kill us!" I said. "Doesn't he understand we're going to defend ourselves?"
"He only cares that you die, I'm afraid." Lornicus sighed. "Men like that are rather stubborn. He and his people will come after you until either they or you are dead."
"All of them?" I said, my voice sounding weak.
"Quite likely," he said.
I ran a hand down my face and groaned. This had gone from worst to most worsterest. "Anything else I need to know?"
"My assets are now actively patrolling and keeping a wary eye out for you," he said. "If you happen to notice anyone following you, it could be one of them."
"Uh, Elyssa might cut one of your golems to pieces if she thinks it's a member of the brotherhood," I said.
"Point well taken," he replied. "If you are unsure about someone's affiliation, simply tap your forehead twice. If it is one of my assets, they will respond by scratching their head."
"How do you tell them what to do?" I asked. "Is it a shared consciousness?"
"Not precisely," he said. "I can, however, send commands to multiple units at once."
"Sounds really complicated," I said. "Especially considering how many you have under your command."
"Not as complicated as one might think," he said. "Arcphones are rather handy."
I imagined using a program to command thousands of golems. Even that sounded unwieldy.
"I'm glad you decided to partner with me," Lornicus said. "I see a bright future ahead, Mr. Slade."
With mafiosos stalking me I didn't see how such a thing was possible. I disconnected and updated the others.
"We're even more screwed than I thought," Shelton said, shaking his head.
"Now, Harry, don't be so glum." Bella patted him on the back. "After all, we have an army of golems watching out for us now."
"An army that was, until recently, trying to kill Justin," he said.
"We need to be proactive," Adam said. "Let's track them down first."
"Already working on it," Bella said. "Speaking of which, it's time for another planning session." She, Elyssa, and Stacey left, heading to the war room.
"By the way," Shelton said after the women left. "We figured out how Jeremiah Conroy was spying on us."
"You did?" I asked, thinking back to how he'd stolen the Cyrinthian Rune right out from under our noses.
"Yeah, he was using nom equipment."
"Hidden mics?" I asked.
"Yep." Shelton sighed. "It's easy to overlook the ordinary when you're living inside a magical pocket dimension."
"The place is clean of bugs now?"
"If it ain't, we're screwed," he said with full confidence.
"I'm not entirely confident Darkwater will have the location of the Conroys," I said. "And I sure as hell don't want to pay Lornicus's price for finding Mom and Ivy. Have you made any progress using your bounty hunter contacts?"
He nodded. "Remember Oliver over at the Grotto?"
I pictured the stable boy who was one of Shelton's assets. "Yes."
"He's going to sneak a tracker onto the Conroy limo before it splits into illusions."
I felt my eyes go wide. "Are you sure using a kid like that is smart? What if you get him killed?"
Shelton held up a hand. "Relax, he knows what he's doing."
"Won't the limo be warded against trackers?"
Shelton shrugged. "Probably. Doesn't hurt to try though."
"Coming from you, that's pretty optimistic." I stood and paced restlessly. Even with golems watching out for our wellbeing and the other precautions we'd taken, sitting around felt too defensive. It seemed like we were always reacting to evildoers instead of whatever the opposite was—proacting? Elyssa's plan to break into Darkwater—much as it scared me—was a positive first step. But placing all our eggs in that basket was risky. We needed to split push on several fronts until something gave.
Shelton took his leather duster from the coat rack and shrugged into it. "Doesn't look like you're any better at waiting than I am."
I sighed. "It makes me feel like we're just sitting around waiting for the axe to fall."
"I know the feeling," he said. "But jumping into a fight with the brotherhood will only get us killed faster."
"Then why did you put on your coat?" I asked.
He chuckled and placed his favorite wide-brimmed hat on his head. "I just realized that not every problem needs a complicated solution."
"Oh?"
He motioned me down the stairs toward the arch. "I got to thinking about how Jeremiah bugged us with simple nom tech that Bella and I didn't think to search for. Using a magical tracker is just the sort of thing the Conroys ward against."
"But if they use nom tech for spying, wouldn't they also think to have countermeasures to it?"
"Of course," he said, walking through the cellar and toward the staircase to the arch room. "So we go even simpler."
"We steal a variety of bird eggs and train the hatchlings from birth to follow the Conroys, leaving a trail of bird poo along the way?"
He stopped in his tracks to give me a look. "You and that mouth of yours." He resumed walking. "What I have in mind is stupid simple."
"Lead the way. I can't wait to see you do something stupid."
We traveled via the omniarch to a dingy alley on the west side of Atlanta, and closed the portal behind us. Shelton said a word, and a nearby brick wall vanished to reveal a non-descript blue sedan, quite a departure from his pickup truck. The inside of the car smelled like stale sandwiches and old coffee. Brown stains on the upholstery confirmed my suspicion that he'd used this car for stakeouts.
"Ever heard of a car wash?" I asked, wrinkling my nose since my supernatural olfactory senses launched background smells into nauseating hyper-drive. I noticed an old fast-food wrapper in the floorboard, and realized with disgust mold had overgrown it. Using my fingers like pincers, I tossed the long-dead remains into a trash heap in the alley, figuring nobody would notice the addition.
"Don't want it too clean," he said. "Sparkling clean cars draw attention even if the model is common."
"I'm talking about cleaning the interior," I said, noticing even more discarded food wrappers in the back. "It's like a rat's nest in here, man."
He waved away my complaints. "Ah, you'll get used to it." He drove us to Phipps Plaza in Buckhead, a ritzy place in North Atlanta. We entered the parking garage through the back entrance, and drove straight through a concrete wall—rather, the insubstantial illusion of one. A winding ramp led deep underground to the Grotto way station where an Obsidian Arch allowed Overworld citizens to travel across the extensive network. Before we reached the way station, Shelton stopped near the base of the ramp. He put on his hazard lights, threw the car into park, and got out. He walked across the driveway holding what looked like the kind of colorful handlebar streamers one might see on a kid's bike. Removing some duct tape from his duster, he attached the streamers to the wall.
I stared at him as he slid back into the car and drove inside the cavern housing the Obsidian Arch. A large parking lot spanned nearly half of the massive space.
"Not only stupid simple," I said, "but also plain stupid. What the heck are handlebar streamers gonna do?"
Shelton sighed. "Think about it. What's the difference between an illusion and the real thing?"
I thought about it a moment before his meaning clicked. "Illusions are immaterial. They go through physical objects. They also don't make a breeze when they go past."
"Exactly."
"But what about solid illusions?" I asked, thinking about the barrier illusions we'd used in the past to block off places we didn't want people wandering. They were solid.
He shrugged. "Spells don't come free. They cost aether. An illusion spell is already pretty expensive to cast, even if you have arcane generators helping. Illusion plus solidity doubles the cost. Now imagine casting that spell times a dozen illusions. We're talking astronomical aether usage." He nodded toward the streamers. "So the Conroys hop into their car as usual. It duplicates into illusions, and they drive out of here in a line, right?"