The Collected Christopher Connery (22 page)

They made good time. Arthur was a hell of a driver. He
had them flying through intersections and around sharp corners without so much
as wrinkling his brow in concentration.

“So, doc,” she said when it became clear that speaking
wouldn’t cause him to slam them into a streetlamp. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never
been able to see across town in my sleep before. If I could, I’d be a lot
better at my job.”

Arthur deftly guided them around a stopped trolley. “I
was worried this would happen.”

Gail waited.

“I’ve told you that I’m not any kind of magical expert,
right?”

“Yeah, you said something like that,” Gail answered
vaguely. She didn’t know how to let Arthur know what Nia had told her
yesterday. It seemed only right to tell him she knew his secret, but so far she
hadn’t hit on a way to do it without sounding like an asshole.

“My official magical education ended when I was nine, but
when I started studying to become a surgeon, it was necessary for the Academy
to teach me about a few very particular types of magic, specifically the ones
that overlap with physical health. One of the topics was the effect of
excessive magical exposure on laymen.”

“Huh? But we’re exposed to magic all the time.” She
gestured through the windshield at the stoplight. “Those are magic. Hell, almost
all the lights in the city are magic. The water we drink is purified by
machines powered by magic. Now you’re saying it’s bad for us?”

“That’s all different from direct exposure.” He stopped
speaking for a minute to let a couple pedestrians scurry in front of him before
roaring through the intersection on their heels. “Even illusions aren’t that
dangerous. I mean, they might drive someone mad, but magicians are equally
susceptible to that. Laymen actually do better with them sometimes.”

Gail thought of Arthur trying to stab that shard of
broken glass into his throat and Nia weeping on the endless stairwell, craning
toward something that only she could hear. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“The trouble comes with magic performed directly on the
body. Magicians, even bound ones like me, can process magic. Our bodies use it
and get rid of any excess, just like food. Laymen’s bodies can’t do anything
with it, though, so it – builds up.”

“Builds up?” Gail touched her forehead, remembering the
awful stabbing pain she’d felt before passing out. Was that magic build-up?
Against her will, she imagined the magic like a mass of shattered glass,
expanding until it tore into her brain and cracked her skull. She grimaced and
rubbed her head hard, trying to convince herself that the ache she felt was
just a remnant of the earlier attack and not a sign of something worse to come.

“It means –” Arthur sighed, hands tightening on the
steering wheel. “It means that over time, the magic can cause permanent damage
to your body.”

It was probably her imagination, but Gail’s head suddenly
hurt a lot worse. “That’s fucking fantastic. So what caused this, Nia healing
me before?”

Arthur nodded. “And when you put that spell on the spider
door, though that was only a small exposure and probably wouldn’t have hurt you
at all if not for the healing.”

Gail sighed. “Well, I guess she didn’t have much choice.
I wish she would have told me, though, even if I am pretty happy not to be
dead.”
But for how much longer?
How long could a layman live with magic
clogging their brain? Arthur said it would do permanent damage, but how much
damage was he talking about? Fatal damage? Or just forgetting the names of
friends and loved ones damage? And could the damage be reversed? But all those
questions stayed in Gail’s throat. Better to save them for after the rescue.
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain the dreams.”

“In laymen, magic build-up can have strange side-effects.
One of them is the manifestation of certain magical abilities. The layman can’t
control them, but they’re there.” Arthur craned his neck to peer at a street
sign then turned sharply across the intersection, dodging three other cars and
one unhappy cyclist.

“So what I wrote on that paper was magic?”
IT’S DARK,
BUT THE EYELESS BULL ISN’T BLIND. I SHOULD HAVE WORN THICKER STOCKINGS. THE
STONE IS COLD. THERE WASN’T MUCH BLOOD. UNTIL THEY STARTED TO PULL ITS SKIN
OFF.
It had seemed like gibberish when she’d first read it, but now she
could begin to make sense of it. The eyeless bull was the train tracking Nia.
The stockings part referred to Nia too – her stockings had certainly torn
easily enough when scraped across the concrete. The last part though… That
still didn’t make any sense. Hell, it sounded too horrible to be real, but if
it wasn’t real then it had come out of her own head, which was almost worse.
No, definitely worse.

“You said you wrote it unconsciously, right?”

“Yeah, it was like someone else was using my hand.” Gail
shivered at the memory and flexed her fingers a few times make sure she was
still entirely in control of them.

“My guess is that because Nia was the one who exposed
you, the magic inside you connects you to her. That’s why you could find her
and warn her.”

“But how did I – I thought I was dreaming. You’re telling
me my mind or my soul or whatever just wandered out my body and –” Fuck, how
was she supposed to understand this shit with her brain swelling up against her
skull?

“You remember when I explained the difference between
bound and unbound magic?”

“Yeah.”

“What you did was essentially a kind of unbound magic.
You projected your magic and caused it to have the effect you wanted. It wasn’t
focused or controlled, but you did it.” He glanced at her before turning his
attention back to the road. “You must have been worried about Nia.”

Gail looked out the window, watching the clouds darkening
on the horizon. “Yeah, I was. She was acting so strange this morning, but I
couldn’t work out what the problem was.” She snorted humorlessly. “Now I guess
we know.”

“But why would she have gone without us? Why all alone?
Nia can be a little impulsive, but she’s not stupid.” Arthur’s jaw was tight as
they finally reached the street they were looking for. He took the turn so fast
that if any pedestrian had tried to dart in front of them, they would have been
reduced to a smear on the pavement.

“Maybe she thought we’d talk her out of it. I certainly
would’ve tried.”

“But the Academy said they were sending help, right? So
–” Arthur breathed in sharply through his teeth. “That’s not what the message
said, was it? They weren’t going to send any help.”

“I’m guessing no.”

Arthur cursed, roaring around another corner fast enough
to make Gail’s vision blur.

“Fuck,” she growled, gripping her head tightly in both
hands. It felt like if she just squeezed hard enough, her skull would fracture
into a million tiny fragments.

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked, glancing over with concern.
“Should I stop –”

“No, keep going, just… talk about something else.
Distract me.”

“What should I –”

“Oh, come on, doc, be creative for hell’s sake!”

“All right.” Arthur was silent for so long that Gail
thought she’d have to start counting the explosions in her temples. Then he
said, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to ask, but your friend…”

“Which friend?”

Arthur shot her another sidelong glance. “The only one of
your friends I’ve ever met.”

Right. Xavier. “Okay, smartass, what about him?”

Arthur’s hands shifted on the steering wheel. “What –
what happened to him?”

“What do you mean?”
Did Xavier tell him about Wayne?
But
that didn’t seem likely. Arthur might have been as nice and as good-looking and
as clever as Xavier could want, but he didn’t like talking about Eric Wayne.
Not even to Gail who had seen the man’s sick work firsthand.

“I mean, he’s got these scars –”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He told me his doctor has
him giving himself some shots. He’s not shooting vernix. That’s not Xavier’s
style.”

“I didn’t mean those,” Arthur said, sounding like he
hadn’t even considered the vernix angle.

Ah,
thought Gail,
the life if a sheltered
Academy magician.
“I wouldn’t worry about the others either. You can’t grow
up in Gracetown without getting a few scars. It’s no big deal.”

Arthur seemed unconvinced. “If you say so.”

“It’s just a different world,” Gail said with a shrug.
“It leaves its mark on you.” She checked out the window again and tapped on the
glass. “Okay, it’s right up here.”

Arthur pulled the car to the curb. His hands slid from
the wheel. “I can usually tell when she’s lying. She’s never been very good at
it. I noticed she seemed jumpy, but I thought she was just nervous about
talking to the Directors.” He put his face in his hands. “I should have
realized.”

“Hey.” Gail took hold of his shoulder and gave him a
light shake. “We can worry about that later. Let’s get her out of there first.”

“You’re right.” Arthur shoved his door open. “Let’s go.”

The rain was beginning to fall as they got out of the car
and ran to the entrance of Ferris Street station. Gail reached automatically
under her coat for her umbrella, only to realize that she had left it at the
hotel.
A little water won’t kill you,
she reminded herself as she felt
the familiar tightening in her chest.
You’ve got more important things to
worry about right now - like the magic grinding against your brain.

They ducked under the old weather-beaten sign that marked
the station door. The gate was held shut by a chain, but it was so rusted from
long water exposure that a few hard kicks were enough to break the padlock.
With Arthur’s help, Gail dragged the gate open and together they started down
the long steep
stairs.          

Somewhere far below, Gail heard something bellowing in
savage animal rage.

It’s just my ears playing tricks on me.
She forced
herself to run down the stairs, each step multiplied a hundred times in her
throbbing head.

Nia had almost decided to give up and climb the stairs to
the street – though if she were truthful, she had almost made this same
decision several times before – when she heard several loud bangs. She leapt to
her feet, looking wildly around, certain it was the train returning to crush
her to a pulp.

Then she realized the sound was coming from above her. It
was followed by the sound of dragging metal and then rhythmic pounding –
footsteps! She ducked into a shadowy corner, slipping a piece of paper into her
hand. If this was another trap, she would be prepared.

When the two figures charged off the last steps, she
almost triggered the spell – then she recognized them.

“Nia!” Arthur called. “Are you here?”

“Arthur!” Nia stepped into the light and threw her arms
around his neck.

He hugged her back tightly. “Nia, you scared us half to
death. What were you thinking?”

Nia just held him more tightly. After the initial blind
terror had passed, she had a long time to reflect on what would have happened
if she hadn’t been quick enough to escape the train. The thought of never
seeing Arthur again, of him being left to return to the Academy alone, had
brought tears to her eyes.

She finally managed to unwind her arms from his neck and
looked at Gail. The detective was scowling at her, one hand on her hip. The
other was massaging her temple.
She’s angry at me.

“Detective, I –”

“Later. I just want to get out of here before –” The
lights began to flicker wildly, like flames caught in a high wind. “– before
some more fucked up shit starts happening, come on!”

Nia didn’t object when Gail grabbed her arm and pulled
her toward the stairs. She reached out her other hand to grasp Arthur’s. Nia
could make out a square of gray light at the top of the stairs. All thoughts of
failure and shame were forgotten, all she wanted at that moment was to reach
that light and stumble on to the street, all of them safe and –

A horrific metal crash, like a thousand steel doors
slamming at once. Nia and Arthur stumbled, stunned by the noise, while Gail
fell to her knees, clutching her head.

“Gail!” Nia knelt beside her. “What’s wrong?” She had to
shout to be heard, but Gail only hunched her shoulders and held her head more
tightly.

The crashing grew louder. Nia couldn’t tell what was
causing it or where it was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere at once.
Arthur had his hands over his ears now and Nia thought she could feel the sound
vibrating in her teeth.

Gail swayed on her knees, almost crumpling to the floor.

Not knowing what else to do, Nia wrapped her arms around
Gail’s head, trying to block out the sound. “It’s all right,” she murmured
though she knew the detective couldn’t hear her, and, “It will stop soon,”
though she had no way of knowing if that were true. Perhaps this was Connery’s
trap. They would remain here, stunned by the din until –

The horrible noise stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
The silence rang in Nia’s ears. For several seconds, she stayed on the floor
with her eyes closed, cheek pressed to Gail’s hair.

A light touch on her shoulder drew her head up.

Arthur stood above her, rubbing his ear with one hand.
“What was that?” he said a little too loudly.

“I – I don’t know. It – oh!” She started as Gail flinched
away from her voice. “I’m sorry, detective, I –”

“Please,” Gail choked out, holding up one hand while the
other stayed pressed to her forehead. “Please don’t talk. Don’t make any noise
at all – just don’t.”

Nia stared up at Arthur who only frowned anxiously. She
wracked her mind for something that would help. She couldn’t use healing magic,
not again, but there had to something she could do that wouldn’t involve direct
exposure. There had to – she reached up and unwound her scarf. Trying not to
scrape the pen too loudly across the paper, she drew a circle. She set the
scarf down on top of it and almost immediately the cloth grew icy cold.

“Detective,” she whispered. “Hold still. This will help.”

Gail’s jaw was clenched painfully tight, but she held
still long enough for Nia to press the cold scarf to her brow. A violent
shudder wracked the detective’s body, then she sighed and sagged forward on her
hands, letting Nia stroke the scarf across her temples. The cold made her
fingers ache, but she continued until Gail sat up and took the scarf from her.

“Thanks,” she said hoarsely. “That helps.”

Nia could only nod, horrified into silence by the haggard
look on Gail’s face. Only last night she had been staggered by Gail’s smile.
Now the detective looked like she might never smile again. The deep red of the
scarf clashed garishly with her pallid face.

For several minutes, all they could do was wait in
silence for Gail to recover. Finally, she struggled to her feet, scarf pressed
to her head. She looked like a breeze would knock her down, but she somehow
managed a weak smile. “That was – less than pleasant.”

Nia almost reached out to touch Gail’s cheek, but drew
back at the last second, remembering Gail was likely not particularly happy
with her. “Oh, detective, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. My head’s just killing me.” Gail winced as she
slid the scarf to her temple. “That noise didn’t help.”

Arthur leaned in close to whisper, “It’s the magic. It’s
starting to affect her.”

No. Oh no.
Nia had hoped against hope that they
would be lucky, that the exposure wasn’t as large as it had seemed, that Gail’s
resistance would be greater than average, but her hopes had come to nothing.
Oh,
detective, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I only wanted to help you.

Gail either didn’t see or didn’t recognize the horror on
Nia’s face, because she just said, “It’s not so bad. I think it’ll pass again.”
She turned toward the stairs. “And I’ll feel even better once we – oh, hell.”

Following her gaze, Nia saw the reason for the curse. The
gate that blocked the door at the top of the stairs had multiplied tenfold
blocking the exit from the door to the bottom of the stairs. The gray light
from the surface was now completely obscured.

“Tell me you can open this, Nia,” said Arthur.

“I – I think I can.”
I hope I can.
She stepped
toward the first of the gates, running her hand across the closely crossed
bars. She gripped one bar and shook it. This gate, unlike the original, was
sturdy and hardly rattled. But even that small sound made Gail wince.

Kneeling on the floor, she drew a circle carefully on a
piece of paper. The spell would be stronger if she could draw it on the bars
themselves, but the crisscrossed metal would not hold the chalk well. The paper
spell would have to be enough.

She tried to keep any doubt off of her face as she
pressed the paper against the bars.
Open,
she begged silently.
Open,
open, open.
She felt the gate tremble beneath her hand, but then Connery’s
spell pushed back. She yanked her hand away just before the bars smashed
together like metal teeth. If she hadn’t let go, she would have left fingers on
the other side of the grating.

“I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Gail
from behind her.

“He’s layered his spells,” Nia said softly, holding her
hand against her chest. “Damn him, damn him.”

“What does that mean?” asked Arthur.

It means I’ve made another mistake. It means I can’t
open the gate. It means we’re trapped.
But the voice that came out of her
mouth was flat and toneless. “Connery layered his spells. The gates depend on
the train which depends on whatever bit of Connery is hidden within it. I can’t
open the gates without breaking the spells that control the train and whatever
other spells are protecting Connery. His associates couldn’t have done this
magic. Magic this complex can’t be bound to paper. He did this himself. Months,
perhaps years in advance.”

“But can’t you –”

Already knowing what Arthur was about to ask, Nia said,
“No. I can’t undo the gates alone. I never expected magic this complex. I
assumed everything had been done with predrawn spells, which meant I could
combat them alone, but this…”

“Don’t feel bad, princess,” said Gail with a grim smile.
“Connery has a knack for ruining people’s plans, even when he’s in pieces.”

“What can we do?” said Arthur. “If we can’t open the
gates then how –”

Nia took a breath. “We have to stop the train.”