my class at the police academy, and it was a point of pride. I figured I’d have to argue it, but to my astonishment, Jane handed the keys over, got in the front passenger’s seat. Laz got in behind me, and Jane played navigator all the way out of the city limits toward the rich green swamps of the bayou.
Any other time in my life and I’d have reveled in just the drive. The roads weren’t good, but I’d cut my teeth on narrow, twisting Appalachian trails, so not good was a familiar variable. And the rest of it was amazing, the rich green scent of rot from old trees and stagnant water accompanying the endless buzz of mosquitoes, loud enough to be heard over the Eagle’s engine when we paused a time or two to decide which way to go. There were alligators and snapping turtles and birds I didn’t know the names of out there, and I dearly wanted to stop the car and roll around in it all. On the other hand, I also dearly wanted to know how we’d gotten to this world, and rolling around in slimy, duckweed-coated water would not get us any answers.
After a while Jane’s directions started getting a little fuzzy, and I pulled over to trigger the Sight and see what it could tell us. At home I would guess nothing: magic was hard to track. But here, with Amaury dragging power out of every adept in the region, there was a constant pull, active magic being used, and that I could see.
We were just about on top of a power drain. Gorgeous rich red and gold magic spiraled into the sky, drawn inexorably toward New Orleans. I exhaled, relieved, and opened my door. “We’re here. We’ve just got to get out and root around a little. Everybody be careful, though. If this woman can call up demons, we don’t want to piss her off.”
Jane and Lazarus climbed out of the car, and as we slammed the doors shut, the station wagon exploded.
I had shields, mental constructs that I’d finally—after being bitten by one of Hollywood’s favorite monsters— learned to keep in place always, all the time, quote the raven forevermore. They kept me from being roasted alive.
They did not keep me from being knocked ass over teakettle halfway across the bayou. Cars, despite what movies told us, did not explode at the drop of a hat. When one did, the resulting concussive fireball was not something our heroes should idly or easily get up and walk away from. I hit water with a cannonball splash any twelve-year-old boy would be proud of, and came up flailing and coughing thick green muck.
Lazarus was a shadow in flame, unmoved by the inferno around him. I couldn’t seen Jane at all, not even her aura: the magic-born fire’s colors blocked everything else from my sight. I stood up—the water turned out to be only hip-deep—and was envisioning my shields extending to cramp the fire, to take away its air and put it out, when it winked out all on its own.
All right, not quite on its own. Lazarus came clear as the flame faded away, magic flexing around him. Dirt brown, primarily, and gold that glittered and shone and faded, like it was sucking up the fire and dispersing it into the air. I stood there in the water, mesmerized by the flow and flex of power. The whole act was performed in such a concentrated, braided way that it made me think of covens. I’d seen a dozen witches working together braid threads like that, but never an individual. The man had been big guns wherever he came from, that much I was sure of.
And speaking of big guns, he tugged the burnt ruin of his shirt off, exposing some of the most flawless pectorals I’d ever laid eyes on. Bits of cloth smoldered against his skin. He brushed them away without concern and I gave myself a shake. Standing around gawking at beautiful men would not deal with the problem of whatever had exploded our car, and I still didn’t know where Jane was. I waded out of the water, realizing the Eagle had only exploded about five seconds ago. My ears were only just beginning to ring, a slightly delayed reaction to the eruption. I got back to Laz’s side and shouted, “Are you okay? How’d you do that? Where’s Jane?” without being able to hear myself, then remembered I was a healer. I’d even dealt with hearing problems in the past, and it wasn’t hard to clear the bells away.
Laz bellowed, “Fine, I fine. Dat was eart’ magic, cherie. Fire eat de air, but soil snuff it out,” back at me, then looked startled when I put my hand on his cheek and shot a bolt of healing power through him to clear his ears too. He dropped his jaw a couple times after, and said, “Jane,” in a more normal voice, and shook his head.
I took a breath to start being worried with, and had it stolen by the scream of an infuriated big cat.
Beast hates fire. Fears fire. Jane is quick, but not quick enough. Take control, force shift, leap. Away from fire, away from burning-magic smell. Dark stink. Strong stink. Easy to track. Not-witch woman smells big over the fire: wet, not scared. Hollow-man smells of earth magic, not fear. Safe from fire. Good.
Beast hunts.
My stomach dropped through my shoes. I was halfway over the burnt-out Eagle, trusting my shields to protect me from its lingering heat, when Laz collared me and hauled me backward. “Don’ be a fool, witchy-woman. You go after d’cat, den we all separate an’ whoever out dere, dey pick us off easy. You and me, we find our enemy, den we find de cat.”
My nostrils filled with the scent of sulfur as he spoke. I glanced at my hands: coated in yellow dust, as if the car had been hit with a colored dust-bomb, not a fireball. That seemed slightly important, but less so than glaring futilely at Laz. I nodded. I’d shouted it at every horror movie I’d ever seen: don’t split the party. “Arright. Okay. But what the hell hit us?”
Sulfur’s stench faded, replaced by the cleaner smell of salt. I hadn’t even known salt had a scent, much less one I could recognize, but it permeated the air, sparkling like fairy dust. Then as if remembering it had come from the sea, it sucked water up from the swamp and attacked Laz and me.
I snapped shields around both of us, creating a bubble of air that I figured would last maybe three minutes. This was going to have to be a very short, decisive fight, or we’d suffocate. Teeth bared, I pushed back with my shields.
Water being what it was—malleable, permeable, probably other things that ended with -able too—it rolled around the shield. I had the distinct feeling it was examining my magic, or at least the shields. I hadn’t doubted there was a real live person somewhere in the swamp directing it, but that solidified my certainty. Our voodooine was nearby, controlling the water as it studied my shields. The magic covered my shield, wrapping around it until the rest of the outside world was only a wavering mass.
Then it began to squeeze.
I had never thought of myself as claustrophobic, not until I’d gone crawling through narrow tunnels deep under Seattle. Since then I’d had a dislike of small enclosed places.
All of a sudden the safety of my own shielding felt like a small enclosed place. The water was dark, much darker than it should be, like the whole damned swamp had come up on us. Even the generally shimmery blue-silver of my shields didn’t have much effect against that dark. I squeaked an I’m-being-brave little laugh and knelt down, focusing on the ground as I tried to breathe.
Creepy-crawlies crept up my spine and settled at my neck. My skin turned to goosebumps as water started dripping on my nape. It shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t possible. My shields were stronger than that. They should hold against pretty much anything as long as I believed they could.
The drip turned to a deluge. I whispered, “Laz?”
“Eart’, fire, air,” he said, sounding strained, “dey ain’t notin’ dat stand against water, cherie.”
I looked up to see his black skin sallow and his eyes wide and white with fear. He stood rigid above my coiled-up ball, the two of us making an example of what the numeral 10 would look like if terrified out of its wits. I gave a high-pitched giggle and struggled to my feet so we were at least a petrified 11, standing back to back. “The air’s going to run out.”
“Den maybe we better do sometin’ dramatic.”
I was halfway through saying, “Right, good plan, got any ideas?” when the goddamned fool blew up the earth we were standing on.
I didn’t see how he did it. Dirt and mud simply exploded under my feet, rupturing a hole big enough that the Eagle fell halfway in. So did we. The water, though, fell apart: our enemy hadn’t expected that. Fair enough,
