The Collected Christopher Connery (13 page)

Everything exploded into color and silence. Gail felt
like she was trapped inside a kaleidoscope, the world shimmering and stretching
around her, her ears finding only aching emptiness.

Then, like a bursting bubble, the illusion fell away.
Gail found herself curled on her side, a pair of severed arms clutched against
her chest. The rumbling of the boiler was painfully loud. Rolling on to her
hands and knees, she was happy to find the floor free of severed limbs –
except, of course, for the ones she was holding. When she touched her face, her
fingers came away damp with sweat but unbloodied.

Yikes. That had been – well, she guessed it was about
time her nightmares had gotten some new material.

As she climbed to her feet, she saw Nia bent over Arthur
who remained sprawled on the floor, fighting for breath. Kicking Connery’s arms
aside, she hurried over and dropped to a crouch beside Nia. “Is he all right?”

Nia’s head snapped up, her eyes a bit too wide and a bit
too bright. “You’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine, but what about him?”

Swallowing hard, Nia clenched her injured hand until
blood ran down her wrist. “In a moment, he will be fine.”

Gail could only watch with a mixture of admiration and
disgust as Nia used her own blood to draw a healing spell around Arthur. When
she triggered it, Arthur gave a sharp gasp and his chest popped outward like
someone had inflated him with a bicycle pump.

His ribs were crushed,
Gail realized.
That’s
why he couldn’t breathe.

Nia pushed the sweat-damp hair off of Arthur’s forehead
and managed to smile down into his frightened face. “You’re all right now,
Arthur, you’re all right.” Then she sagged forward and Gail barely caught her
before she fell across Arthur’s newly healed chest.

“Hey, princess,” she said worriedly as she held the limp
magician against her chest. “What did you to yourself?”

“I’m fine,” Nia mumbled.

“Whatever happened to being frank?” Gail lifted Nia’s
injured hand, hissing when she saw the angry red gash on the palm.

“I am being frank. I’m just… tired. It’s been a long…”
She didn’t get the rest of the words out before her head fell heavily against
Gail’s collarbone. There was a moment when Gail was afraid she had just up and
died, but no, if she held still enough, she could feel Nia’s heart beating. Its
rhythm was a little too quick, but it was there.

“Okay, princess,” she said, giving Nia’s hair an awkward
pat. “We’ll get you up to bed and you can rest.”

Nia, out cold, didn’t answer.

“Is she all right?” asked Arthur. He was trying to sit
up, but it was as if he had a pile of invisible rocks on his chest.

“She’s fine, just out of it. Don’t you think you should
rest for a second?”

“I don’t want to stay down here any longer than I have
to.” He did a lot of groaning and wincing as he clumped to his feet, but he
made it. “What happened to me? I remember…” Then he shuddered and shook his
head. “On second thought, maybe I don’t want to remember.” His eyes flicked
over to the other side of the basement where Gail had left Connery’s arms. “So
we actually found them. I wasn’t sure that really happened.”

“I’m not sure any of that really happened,” Gail replied,
“but yeah, we got the arms, whatever good they’ll do us.”

“At least this means we’re closer to done. We’re lucky he
didn’t hide each finger individually.”

Gail groaned. “Don’t even say that.”  I don’t care
what good it’ll do, I’m not spending the rest of my life hunting for Connery’s
toes and strands of hair.”

“We won’t need to find his hair,” Nia said faintly into
Gail’s shirt. “You don’t need hair to…” Her voice faded into the deeper breaths
of what Gail hoped was true sleep.

Arthur smiled down at them, though Gail thought the
expression looked a bit ragged. “We should get her upstairs. Do you want me to
carry her?”

Gail looked doubtfully at Arthur’s shaky legs. He had a
lean kind of strength to him, sure, but after the beating he’d taken, she
didn’t think he was up to carrying his own coat.

“Why don’t we carry her between us,” she said finally.
“That way we’ll be sure not to drop her and it’ll look less suspicious. We can
just say she had too much wine with lunch.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “In a bloody,
shredded nightgown?”

“Way too much wine.” But he had a point. Gail wriggled
out her coat and pulled it over the sleeping magician’s shoulders. She was just
about to try to work Nia’s arms through the sleeves when another idea occurred
to her.

“Hey, doc, bring me the arms.”

“Ah, the doc thing, I’d hoped that was part of the
illusion too.” But he did what she said, plucking the arms up by the thumbs and
carrying them back with his own arms outstretched to keep Connery’s limbs as
far from him as possible. When he dropped the arms beside Gail, she picked up
one and set it against Nia’s coat-covered shoulder. They weren’t going to be
quite the right length – Connery had been a good bit taller than Nia – but it
would serve until they got back to their rooms.

Arthur’s face wrinkled in disgust as Gail began working
the arm into the sleeve. “Ugh, you can’t be serious.”

Gail glared at him. “Do you have a better idea? Anyway,
it’ll hardly touch her and it’s in my coat.”
I’ll have to boil it before I
wear it again.
“We could stuff it inside your jacket if you prefer, but I’m
guessing you don’t.”

Though his face didn’t grow any less judgmental, Arthur
knelt and helped hold the coat still, so Gail could wedge the arms inside one
by one. Even after they were fully tucked inside, they jutted out at strange
stiff angles, but pulled over Gail and Arthur’s shoulders, they’d look
realistic enough.

Arthur continued to grimace, but he leaned closer,
studying Nia critically. “We’ll have to make sure her arms stay out of sight. A
four-armed woman won’t look any more normal than a pair of man-less arms.”

“Good point.” Gail bent Nia’s arms behind her back,
taking care to be gentle with the injured hand. Nia mumbled a little, but
didn’t wake up, so Gail loosely tied her wrists together with the strip of
cloth she had been using as earmuffs. Hopefully, Nia wouldn’t wake up and think
they were kidnapping her. Then Gail buttoned the coat to the chin, glad the
garment was long enough to hide most of the bloodstained nightgown.

She glanced at Arthur. “Convincing?”

He made another face.

“That helps.”

“Gloves.”

“Huh?”

“We need gloves. Connery was paler than Nia.”

True. Gail scowled for a moment at the too-light hands
poking from the sleeves then she held out her own hand toward Arthur.

He took a step back. “What?”

“Oh, come on, I know you’ve got them on you. Hand them
over.” She thought for a moment. “Was that a pun?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Arthur said mournfully as he
pulled a pair of fine leather driving gloves from his pocket and gave them to
Gail. “I’ll never be able to wear those again.”      

“He’s inside my coat, so I don’t want to hear any
complaining.” Gail said as she worked the gloves over Connery’s stiff fingers.

With the pigment issue corrected, the disguise was about
as convincing as it was going to get.

“Okay.” Gail climbed clumsily to her feet, one of
Connery’s arms pulled around her neck. She could feel the fabric of the coat
straining to support Nia’s weight. “Let’s hurry. If this whole thing rips apart
in the middle of the lobby, we’ll be in a river of shit.”

Arthur gingerly pulled the other arm over his shoulder,
wincing when Connery’s gloved hand brushed his face. “This is going to look
ridiculous,” he said as they made their way toward the basement stairs with
slow precise steps.

“Nah,” said Gail. “It just looks like we’re helping our
dear friend to bed after an exciting afternoon. Or it looks like we’re
arresting her, but either way, I don’t think anyone will pay much attention.”
The one good thing about their ordeal inside Connery’s illusion was they were
no longer remotely recognizable as the finely dressed Illuminator and her
assistants. “We just have to move fast.”

Arthur snorted in response, but he did make an effort to
walk a little more naturally, wrapping his other arm around Nia’s waist to keep
her upright. Meanwhile, Gail put on her best “what the hell are you looking
at?” cop scowl to deter any onlookers from staring for too long.

That worked until they made it to the second floor
corridor when Arthur, tripping over a rucked bit of rug, fell to his knees.
Feeling the fabric of her coat pull precariously tight, Gail dropped down to
his level.

“We have to get up!” she whispered harshly to Arthur,
knowing that any minute someone could step into the hallway. How the hell were
they gonna explain why they were hunched over with Nia’s arms stretched between
them like she was made of taffy?

“I’m trying, I’m trying! But her arm’s coming loose.”

Gail leaned forward so she could see Arthur’s face around
Nia. He stared at her with a wild-eyed panic that would have been funny under
other circumstances. “What?”

“Not her arm,
his
arm. It’s coming loose.”

From this angle, Gail could see what he meant. Apparently
her poor old coat was more elastic than she thought and Connery’s left arm was
beginning to slide through the sleeve. For the moment, only a thin line of dead
flesh was visible above the gloves, but judging by the way Arthur was clutching
the arm, it wouldn’t be long before the whole limb came sliding out.

“It’s going to be fine, doc. We just need to work
together.”

Arthur gave her a clench-jawed nod in response.

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two –”

“Do you need help?”

Shit.
“Hold her,” Gail whispered to Arthur. She
slipped out from under the arm on her side, tucked it as close as she could to
Nia’s side, and stood up to deal with the helpful nuisance. “Hi, no, we’re all
right, we just – holy shit, Xavier, is that you?”

“Gail?” Xavier Rivers, resident of the Gracetown
neighborhood of Westbridge – so named because it was in western Gracetown and
contained a bridge – was a big man, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested with
arms that looked like they could break a back with a single squeeze.

 
Luckily, he was
also one of the nicest bastards Gail had ever met.

Breathing out a long sigh of relief, she caught him in an
awkward one-armed hug, jostling the trumpet he held in his right hand. “What
the hell are you doing here, Xavier?”

Xavier held up the trumpet.

“I thought you gave that up to teach full time.”

“School’s out for the rainy season and the band pays the
bills.” He leaned around her to look at Arthur who currently had Nia bundled
against his chest like he was hoping he could squish her down small enough to
fit in his pocket. “What’s going on?”

“It’s kind of confidential. Academy business.” Arthur was
staring at her like she was out of her mind, but Gail knew Xavier could be
trusted. She’d helped him out a few years back with a shitbag stalker named
Eric Wayne. When Wayne’d started leaving dead animals artistically arranged on
Xavier’s doorstep, Xavier had gone to the police, afraid that Wayne would start
going after the kids Xavier taught next. Naturally, the police hadn’t done
shit, but working together, he and Gail had managed to collar the asshole just
before he did exactly what Xavier had feared he would. “I’d explain, but you
know.”

“Gotcha,” said Xavier without batting an eye. “Still,
looks like you could use a hand.”

“You could say that. Our associate here – uh – got into a
bit of a scrape. She could use some help getting back to her room.”

Xavier didn’t ask any questions –
bless you, buddy –
just
waited patiently while Gail quickly freed Nia from her coat, letting the
garment fall to the hotel floor, extra arms and all. He only whistled softly
under his breath when he saw Nia’s blood-soaked nightgown. “Damn, is she all
right?”

“She’ll be okay. She’s a magician and her brother here is
a doctor.”

Still sitting dumbstruck on the floor with his mouth
hanging open, Arthur didn’t look particularly professional, but Xavier didn’t
express any doubts. He got down on his knees and said to Arthur, “Is it okay if
I carry her? I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I –” Arthur glanced at Gail, who nodded back at him.
“Yes, of course, just… be careful of her head.”

Setting down his trumpet, Xavier gathered Nia in his arms
as gently as a doting father lifting his baby daughter. “Where’s her room?”

Arthur finally pulled himself together and scrambled
upright. “This way. I’ll show you.”

While Arthur was doing that, Gail quickly snatched up the
arms, bundling them up in her coat before following. When she reached Nia and
Arthur’s room, Xavier was setting Nia on the bed while Arthur watched. As she
stepped into the room, Gail put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and whispered a
quick, “Don’t worry, he’s decent, trust me,” then went up to Xavier.

“Thanks, Xave, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He glanced down at the awkward bundle under
her arm. “I take it that’s Academy business too?”

“Nah, just a new hobby.”

Arthur’s eyes practically bulged out of his head at that
comment, but Xavier just laughed.

“All right, I’ll get out of your hair.” Before going, he
gave Gail a proper hug, patting her warmly on the back before releasing her.
“You going to be around for a bit? It’s been what, six months since we got
together?”

“Something like that. I’m on the clock just now, but I’ll
find you when I’ve got some free time.”

Xavier smiled. “Great.” He jerked a thumb back toward the
hall. “I better go get my instrument before someone walks off with it.” But he
took a moment to lightly pat Nia’s still hand. “Feel better, ma’am.” He
inclined his head politely to Arthur on his way out.