“Sid has probably forgotten more runes, castings, and wards than any Arch Mage will ever learn in their lifetime.”
“Right, making a mental note to never piss off Sid.”
“Always a good policy,” Rey said with a smile. “You ready?”
“Ready? Ready for what?”
Rey nodded to Sid, who nodded back.
“I apologize for the abruptness, Simon,” Sid said. “But we’ll speak again soon. I look forward to it. Brace yourself…this might sting a bit.”
“What? What are you…”
A white flash blinded me, and I found myself pushing up on the door at the top of the stairs leading away from The Dive. I shoved the door open, and rolled out into the afternoon heat, coming just short of the busy street.
“We should get off the street,” Jessikah said from behind me as she looked around. “This city is peculiar. Did no one see you exit and tumble out of an underground tunnel?”
“If it doesn’t directly impact us, we don’t care,” I said. “Especially if it’s going to make us late somewhere. Then, we don’t even acknowledge its presence, no matter how bizarre it can be.”
I turned back to look at the exit we had just stepped out of, but it had disappeared. I couldn’t even sense where the tunnel was. Whatever runes Grey had used, they were excellent at camouflage.
“You’re right though,” I said, looking around. “We do need to get off the street. We need to go somewhere your friends, or my enemies, would think twice about attacking.”
“You know another run-down, seedy clubhouse we can go to?”
I pulled out my phone and pressed a button.
“You destroyed it?” Cecil answered, with a certain amount of restrained joy. “Did you kill the Dark Goat? How did you survive? Tell me everything.”
“Always great to hear your voice too, Cecil,” I said. “Good morning, how has your day gone? Oh, mine? Thanks for asking. Well, aside from the fact that some maniac is out there trying to blow me to bits…”
“You’re going to need to be a bit more specific, Simon,” Cecil said. “That sounds like a normal day for you and Tristan.”
“Tristan is in trouble,” I said. “I’m headed to Erik’s and need the Dark Goat delivered there.”
“You mean it’s still intact?” he asked, sounding somewhat defeated. “I thought you called to tell me it was in pieces. You know, your usual.”
“Still in one glorious piece of automotive art,” I said. “I don’t think the Dark Goat can be destroyed.”
“What happened to Tristan?”
“Schism, but I’m not going to let him go dark if I can help it.”
“Damnation,” Cecil answered. “A schism is tricky business. Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Not really, but I figure I’m the best chance he has.”
Silence.
“Call Dex,” he said after a good twenty seconds of empty air. “There are things happening here that you need to know. He can help you with Tristan, as well.”
“I will,” I said, intrigued. “In the meantime, I need a ride. Can you send Robert?”
“Robert is away on a delivery,” he answered, and I heard him punching some keys. “I have your location. I’ll send one of the other drivers in one of our new experimental models—the LUMPS edition. We’ve had good results with it so far.”
“LUMPS?” I asked, confused. “Do I even want to know?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Is this driver any good?” I said, looking down the street. “We may have some nastiness after us.”
“I would feel more confident about the vehicle returning intact, if he drove,” Cecil answered. “I think you’ll like him. He drives like you. Wear your seatbelt.”
“Thanks, I think?”
“Five minutes. Sit tight.”
“Thanks, Cecil…really.”
“You can thank me by helping Tristan,” Cecil answered. “Call Dex.”
He hung up.
SIXTEEN
Five minutes later, a dark purple Lamborghini Urus screeched up to where we stood and stopped exactly where we were standing.
A young man unlocked the doors and beckoned us to enter the vehicle. It was an exact replica of the one we destroyed in London. I say “destroyed,” but it was really a victim of circumstance. The circumstance was we were driving it—the demons attacking us preferred we were dead, so they blew it up.
I want to say it was a misunderstanding, but we understood the intent pretty clearly. Cecil was livid with Monty for weeks after that. The fact that he sent me another Lamborghini only demonstrated how worried he was.
The young man gave us a grin as we got in.
“Nice ride,” I said, as the young man opened the doors. “I’ll ride shotgun. Jessikah, will you and…?”
Ink was gone.
“He’s close,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
“Not worried,” I said, worried. “Just hope Peaches doesn’t start poofing off on his own.”
“I don’t think hellhounds ‘poof’ anywhere,” Jessikah said, looking down at Peaches, who approached the back seat like he owned it. “They more or less whomp wherever they want, especially this one.”
Peaches jumped into the back seat, but left some room for Jessikah. He was a Sprawlmeister with style, and yes, he did sort of whomp when he finally settled in. Jessikah sat next to him. He placed his enormous head on her lap, giving her the puppy-dog look and a nudge of her hand to get some head rubs. She looked down with a smile and obliged the ham. He gave off a low rumble of pleasure.
<You made some room for her. That was nice of you.>
<She still smells scared. Being next to me will calm her down.>
<You are many things, boy. Calming is not one of them.>
< I think she’s scared of you.>
<Me? Why would she be scared of me?>
<You made a ball of energy. It was scary. Plus, you smell.>
<I don’t smell.>
<I think your smell scared the cat man away. Is your nose broken? I can smell you from here.>
<I’m working on the smell.>
<I don’t smell like you. I smell calm. You smell angry.>
<Right, I’m sure her fear has nothing to do with the immense, aluminum-chewing hellhound next to her. There’s no way she would be scared of you.>
<I’m too cute to be feared. You smell, and it’s a scary, angry smell. Should I lick you?>
<Just
