her baby, and hurt Kevin, one of their own. I didn’t know anything that would justify those actions. Not even this. But I was willing to tame the storm first and take names for ass kicking later.
Shame strode toward the wall of magic that had been cast in such a masterful Illusion that it mimicked the park perfectly. I started off after him, and pushed through the spongy resistance as I crossed that magical barrier. Someone who wasn’t determined would not be able to get through the Illusion-it had a weight and a Diversion woven in it that would repel people and animals.
This, apparently, was a private party.
I don’t know what I expected to see on the other side. Something gothic, magic going off like fireworks, maybe wizards’ robes and pointed hats and wands, which I had yet to see in all my time in the Authority.
What I saw was even better.
The Authority, all the men and women who were supposed to make sure magic was used correctly, that the common citizen wasn’t destroyed by it, that the world benefited from it, stood shoulder to shoulder, creating a circle.
No longer in street clothes, they wore what I could only assume they liked to cast magic in. Maeve had on her leather pants and stiletto heels, Hayden his leather bomber jacket and lumberjack boots. The twins Carl and La wore loose-legged pants and kimono-like shirts. The rest were in a variety of leather, tight-or loose-fitting coats and jackets, none longer than knee-length, and all of them had weapons at their sides.
I expected the atmosphere to be grim. What I didn’t expect was the mood behind the magic.
The magic users did not like one another.
The magic users did not like being here, working together.
The magic users were all waiting for someone to make a wrong move.
Angry, suspicious, explosive. Just the kind of situation I liked to stay far, far away from.
There were two places open in the circle. One next to Terric, which I was surprised to see Shame stride over and fill, and one next to Sedra. I supposed that one was mine, though I wondered if it had once been my father’s, or Zayvion’s.
I crossed the grass uphill, conscious of the body language of everyone who stood still and focused. Even though the general mood was hate, they were, for the moment, each doing their job. They held their hands in front of them, and as I came nearer, I saw why.
At the feet of each of them was a disk. Small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, the disks were silver and black. Since I’d gotten a pretty good look at the one in Greyson’s neck, I knew the disks had glyphs carved through them.
The disks gave off a soft pastel light. Magic I could see with my bare eyes rose in wisps, held in stasis by the magic user’s hand and will.
I took my place beside Sedra. There was no disk on the grass in front of me.
What? The new girl didn’t get to play?
“This completes our circle,” Sedra said before I could point out that I didn’t have a shiny toy like everyone else.
“This completes our power,” she continued. “We stand together facing a common threat. Magic rises in our world, claiming the sky. It is our duty to bring it once again to the heart of the earth.”
A few people looked over at her, or pointedly avoided her gaze. Wasn’t that interesting? Liddy didn’t look at her. Neither did Mike Barham, and half a dozen other people. No, instead they looked at one another.
Uh-oh.
The sky above us clotted with color. Lightning flashed again, shattered the sky with wild glyphs so bright I couldn’t blink away the burn. Even flash-blind, I thought I saw a shadow moving back by the trees on the other side of the wall of magic. Short, female.
It was Mama Rositto, the woman whose youngest boy had been used as a Proxy, and almost killed, to cover up my father’s murder several months ago. I used to Hound for her, but after her boy had been hurt, and her son James had been thrown in jail, she’d made it clear I wasn’t welcome in her life.
What would she be doing out in the park in a storm?
With the Illusion up, she wouldn’t see us, couldn’t see us. And if we did our job right, she’d go her way, take her walk or whatever it was she was doing, without ever suspecting that the most powerful magic users in Portland were about to bring the sky, and all the magic in it, crashing down in her backyard.
Lightning flashed and thunder exploded so close they joined.
A drop of rain hit my head. Then another.
Great. Why did it always rain when the world needed saving?
The disks around the circle flickered as rain pattered through the rising magic.
I looked around, uncertain as to how this was a storm rod that was going to channel the magic. Unless they intended to channel bits of the magic into the disks at their feet. Even so, there weren’t nearly enough disks to contain that storm.
The big, heavy figure of Jingo Jingo lumbered out into the center of the circle. He carried a sack over his back. Lightning struck, painting him pale as a horror-movie Santa Claus. A flash of ghostly faces, children’s faces, swarmed around his body, tied to him, clinging to him in sorrow and desperation.
Darkness returned, snuffing out the ghosts.
But I knew I’d see them in my nightmares.
Jingo swung the bag off his back and upended it.
Disks poured out, dozens and dozens, striking one another in sweet glass tones, primal music and magic, ringing in song so pure I caught my breath. Disks and magic poured into a pile, a mountain, a treasure of glittering, beautiful power.
I moaned softly. I wasn’t the only one.
There it was-the unattainable dream. Easy magic.
Safely contained, safely used. No price to pay. Ready to do what you wanted it to do. At no cost.
I wanted it to stop a storm. I wanted it to help me open a gate so I could get Zayvion back.
I looked around the circle, at faces brushed in liquid light from the disks at their feet. I saw awe, doubt, greed. I saw anger, and fear. All the good things a human could feel and all the bad, played out across the faces of those gathered.
The Authority, Zayvion had told me, was on the brink of a war.
And someone had just poured a pile of loaded weapons at their feet.
“Allison Beckstrom,” Jingo Jingo said. “Come forward now.”
“What?” Thunder struck, covering my voice. I shot a panicked look at Shame and Terric, both of whom looked away from the thrall of the disks and at me. They looked as confused as I felt.
“We need a focal point,” Sedra said softly next to me. “I had hoped there would be another way. If Zayvion hadn’t fallen, he would be the one standing here. I would not have asked this of you.”
“Asked what of me? Explain-” Lightning, thunder. I waited them out, or at least until the thunder’s volume went down a notch. Tried again, “Explain what you think I’m going to do.”
She smiled, and it looked out of place beneath her cool, brittle eyes, as if there were two different people with two different emotions behind that face. “You are going to direct the wild magic. You don’t need to wield it, don’t need to absorb it. You simply need to Ground it, into the disks.”
How had she not noticed that I sucked at Grounding? I thought my teachers reported to her about me. I wasn’t even any good at keeping control over the magic inside me and never left home without a void stone anymore.
“I don’t Ground.”
Her eyebrows flicked up. “You will do so now. If you are the Soul Complement to the Guardian of the Gate, then you will be strong enough. We will divert the wild magic to you, and you will Ground it. Using the disks.”
“I’m a lightning rod? A storm rod?” I blinked back rain that trickled into the corners of my eyes. “I tapped into a wild storm and it almost killed me.”
“Zayvion wielded all manifestations of magic. It is now your time to prove you can do the same. Prove that you really are his equal.” This last bit she said with more anger than I expected. I got the feeling she didn’t like me
