Finn Fancy Necromancy (35 page)

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Authors: Randy Henderson

BOOK: Finn Fancy Necromancy
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I waited until he was gone, then said, “Dawn, look, I—”

“It's fine,” Dawn said. “I get it. Bad things are after you, and I can't kick a witch's curse in the balls. I'm just telling you it's going to get old if this happens a lot, me getting left out or left behind.”

“It won't. I promise.” I pulled Dawn into my arms. “If Zeke says it's all clear, you can come in and be part of everything.”

Zeke returned and generously spared a frown for Dawn and me before saying, “All clear, far's I can tell. Let's go.”

We dashed across the yard, past Pete's cottage to the side door and into the house. I took Dawn's hand as we followed the sound of voices to the dining room. We found Mattie and Vee playing scrabble, while Sammy tapped intently on her phone and Father cleared the table of dishes.

Mattie looked up, her eyes going to Dawn's hand in mine, and back to our faces, and she beamed at Dawn. “Oh, that's so cool. Totally perfect. See?” she said, looking at Vee. “Anything's possible.”

Dawn looked surprised. Vee blushed and avoided Zeke's questioning look.

“How's Pete?” I asked.

“Good,” Vee said. “Healer came and went.”

Mattie's face scrunched. “Ooo. Yeah. Um, Heather is with him now, said she might be able to help with the scarring.”

“Heather's upstairs?” I said, and felt suddenly awkward. My hand started to slide from Dawn's.

Her grip tightened on mine, and she said, “I'd think carefully about the choices you make right now.”

I squeezed her hand back. “Sorry. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Except the EMP,” Zeke said. “Maybe we could concentrate on that?”

Mort headed for the far exit. “Knock yourselves out. I've got to come up with two hundred Thoths worth of magic for when you fail.” He left the room.

“I think I can help Pete,” Heather said as she entered the room behind us. “I can make a potion that—oh.” We turned to face her. She'd stopped by the door, her eyes on Dawn. “Hi.” Her eyes flicked to our held hands, and her eyebrows twitched. “Like I said, I can make a … lotion—”

“It's okay,” I said. “Dawn knows about our world.”

Sammy stood up and left the room.

“Oh,” Heather said. “I'm … surprised. Are you two engaged?”

“No,” I said, uncomfortably aware of how sweaty my palm suddenly became in Dawn's hand. “But she's practically part of our family anyway, and she could have been hurt today because she didn't know the truth.”

Dawn glanced between us. “So, Heather, you're a magic user like Finn, then? A witch?”

I winced. Heather gave a tight smile, then said, “I'm an alchemist. But speaking of witches, Finn, I assume you were out stopping the witches who so rudely interrupted our date yesterday? The same ones I assume attacked Petey?”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Dawn muttered.

“Excuse me?” Heather said.

Mattie sprung up and said, “Hey! I know. Ms. Brown, why don't I take you back to the kitchen and see if we have whatever you need to make that potion?”

“Sure,” Heather said and followed Mattie from the room. As she disappeared around the corner, I heard her say, “
Some
body's got a case of the mundies.”

I looked at Dawn.

“What?” she said. “I know you like her, Finn, but there's something not right about her. And I'm not just saying that because she wants you.”

“Heather's a friend. And she hasn't had an easy life, Dawn.”

Dawn patted my cheek. “You're so cute. You don't even know how dangerous it is defending her right now, do you? But I know it's just because you have a big squishy heart, so I'll let you off this time with a warning.”

Zeke blew out his mustache. “Enough with the jibba jabba! Can you please focus on the task at hand? We need to plan our break-in.”

“Sorry,” I said. “You're right. We can work out the broad strokes, but we'll need to gather the whole family for the details. I think we're going to need everyone for this.”

“I'll get them,” Vee said, and rushed from the room.

“Not Father!” I called after her. I didn't want to risk the enemy learning our plans through him somehow. I sat at the table, with Dawn next to me, and Zeke sat a few chairs down. “Okay, so, breaking into the EMP—”

Zeke and I went over his notes and discussed ideas until everyone had gathered around the table: me, Dawn, Sammy, Mort, Zeke, Vee, and even Heather. Mattie was assigned to keep Father in his room.

I stood up at the head of the table and said, “Thank you all for being here—”

“Oh look, Finn Fancy Necromancy Pants is thanking me for being in my
own home,
” Mort said.

I took a calming breath. “What I'm trying to say is, thank you all for coming together like this. I know things have been crazy since I've come back, and I'm sorry for that. I really am. I didn't want any of this, believe me. I have no idea why someone is trying to kill me, or send me back into exile. But I wanted to share with you what we do know, and what we plan to do about it.”

“And you need our help,” Heather said.

“Yes, I do. I—”

“The way you needed my help in the library yesterday?” She looked at Dawn.

I blushed, and avoided looking at either of them. “No. This is a little more serious than
research
.” I cleared my throat. “Here's what I know. Twenty-five years ago, somebody used dark necromancy on Felicity, possibly with her help, and framed me for the attack, someone who might have been her lover, someone who could get past our house's protections, someone who had the power and influence to block her clan's immigration efforts. Then during my return from exile, somebody attacked the Fey. And Felicity … she came to warn me, but they killed her in the changeling's trailer, probably as another attempt to frame me.”

“And I was attacked,” Mort said.

“Yes. Someone is using feybloods to try to stop us from Talking to a spirit our family warded, to protect some powerful secret, I assume. And in every attack, it seems my enemy didn't want me harmed, only stopped, and framed.”

“Someone who?” Sammy asked. “And why do they want you exiled so bad?”

“I don't know,” I said. “But we hope to find out, by doing exactly what they're trying so hard to prevent. And that brings me to asking for your help. Because the only person of significance our family warded near the time of my exile is Katherine Verona. And she's under the EMP.”

Mort shook his head. “Even I can't get you into there.”

“I know,” I said. “That's why we're going to break in.”

“You're crazy,” Mort said. “Even a wizard would be challenged to break into an ARC Sanctum, and you're no wizard. I heard what that warden told you. They have layers of security using all five magics.”

Zeke stood up. “We got a plan to get past that. But it's gonna take all of you.”

I glanced at Zeke. “Zeke and I have two plans, actually,” I said. “Plan A is we break into the EMP, find out who's doing this to me, to us, and stop them.”

“So plan A is suicide, got it,” Mort said. “And plan B?”

“Zeke and I fake our own deaths and disappear.”

“For how long?” Vee asked.

“Forever,” I said. “You'd never see us again. It's the only way to be sure you're all safe.” I glanced at Dawn. Would she come with me into hiding? She'd traveled the world with her last boyfriend. Was it fair even to ask her?

Sammy crossed her arms. “Except we'd have to hope that whoever's doing this believes you're really dead and doesn't try to use one of us as bait to draw you out, right?”

“Yeah,” Zeke said. “And our enemy'd get away with whatever they're doing.”

Heather shifted in her seat. “I hate to be the one who says this, but … maybe you should turn yourselves in?”

“No,” Vee said.

Heather leaned toward me. “Finn, you know I'm no fan of the ARC, but even I have to admit they've changed, have better spells and rules now then when you were exiled before. Surely they'll figure out the truth. I just don't want to see you hurt, and this all sounds way too dangerous, too big to deal with on your own.”

“He's not on his own,” Dawn said. “He's got his friends, and family.”

Mort gave an irritated sigh. “None of the options look good for the family's reputation.”

“Right,” I said. “Obviously, there're risks whatever we choose to do. So which is it going to be?”

24

Smooth Criminal

DAY 3

After a long night of planning, I spent my last day of freedom preparing for our final all-or-nothing gambit, and fitting in as much quality time with my family, and with Dawn, as I could, sharing memories and talking about plans for a future life I had little faith would happen.

The day passed too quickly, until Zeke, Sammy, and I sat in a corner of Pop, the restaurant inside the Experience Music Project building. The loud music, bright lights, and shiny decor made me feel like I was in a Jem and the Holograms music video, along with a hundred other people talking and eating and drinking. Sammy's computer screen lit her face, her brows scrunched in intense concentration as she hacked the lines of code I could see reflected in her black-rimmed glasses. Zeke wore a hat to hide his distinctive Mohawk, and his mustache had been waxed and pressed to his face until it looked more like a thin Vandyke from a distance. Zeke and I pretended to talk, but our real attention was on Vee at the bar nearby.

Vee wore a shimmery, slinky black dress that didn't look quite natural on her. Maybe I was just used to seeing her in jeans and a sweatshirt, or perhaps it was the way she sat hunched in on herself, obviously uncomfortable with the dress and the crowds. But the man beside her didn't seem to notice, given that the dress barely covered her private bits.

The man wore the security guard uniform and red wizard's persona ring of an EMP warden. Vee talked to him, laughing at what he said and occasionally flipping back her long blond hair in a stiff, rehearsed way like a bad actress. Zeke fidgeted constantly. I could tell he wanted to call the whole thing off and get Vee out of there.

The waiting was certainly nerve racking, leaving me little to do except to keep running over the plan, tripping upon everything that could go wrong.

*   *   *

“Plan A it is, then,” Zeke said, surprise in his voice. He looked at his notepad and I glanced around the dining room at everyone sitting with determined looks on their faces. At least, I think it was determination. Those faces were a little blurry thanks to the tears that burned the edges of my eyes.

Not one of them voted for Plan B, for Zeke and me to run and hide. And nobody but Heather voted to go to the ARC. Not even Mort, though he had taken the longest to agree. I wanted to believe it was because he wanted to help us fight and not just because of the deal I'd made with Priapus, but I'd take his help either way.

“For Finn to do his Talking thing,” Zeke said, “he's gonna have to actually reach Verona's body. And that ain't gonna be easy. The friggin' place was built from the ground up to keep out unwanted magics.”

*   *   *

Seattle's Experience Music Project building was an interesting structure indeed. It sat in the shadow of the Space Needle and covered about half a city block, but there wasn't a right angle to be seen on its surface. It was all curves and odd angles, and actually looked like several weirdly shaped buildings made of rainbow-hued metal all welded together. Sammy said officially it was supposed to represent the fluidity and energy of music, maybe the visualization of a sound wave or even smashed instruments. But the true purpose of its shape was to help deflect any magical energy aimed at it or its contents, thus preventing attacks, scrying, or summoning of anyone or anything within. And that was just the visible structure. That didn't count the invisible layers of wards and traps that the ARC had added.

Inside, the museum held a series of large chambers filled with twists and turns, divided and subdivided into musical and pop cultural displays meant to induce ooos, ahhhs, meditative trances, and maybe the occasional seizure. It was an unsettling mix of pop cultural museum and music club, and, judging from the crowd at the bar in Pops, a singles watering hole.

I barely touched my appetizer as I watched Vee, too distracted to eat. And I wanted plenty of room for the pizza I'd ordered. I glanced at my Pac-Man watch: 6:47
P
.
M
. The EMP closed at 7:00. Vee didn't have much more time.

*   *   *

“Now, there's three levels we gotta get through to reach Verona,” Zeke said. “The first level is breaking in past normal mundy security, doors and alarms and cameras and such. Sammy, that's your job. For the second level, we need to have a warden's persona ring, and know the day's password.” Zeke glanced at me, a miserable look on his face. We'd fought over this, but it really was the only way. “Vee, sis, we'll need you to go to the bar at the EMP before it closes and flirt with one of the wardens. We've been told a couple of them hang out there between shifts, hoping to pick up dates. You'll need to read the password from his memory, without that sucka knowing any better. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, but—” Vee glanced at Heather. “Maybe you can help me though? It … It's been a while since I flirted with a guy.” She blushed scarlet.

“Oh sweetie, don't you worry about that,” Heather said. “A man at a bar won't be interested in your words. Not with the dress I have in mind.”

*   *   *

Vee touched the security guard's arm, leaning in and exposing even more cleavage. She said something, her left hand running up the side of his head and through his hair. The man's smile grew slowly wider at Vee's words.

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