Game of Cages

better, but it feels like it’s alive. And it’s mine.”

I could see that she had more questions, but all she said was “Thank you.”

“Did you get all that,” I asked, “with the list of books and people?”

When she answered, her voice was low. “Yes, but we don’t need it. The society has a mole in their group. That’s how we knew about the auction. I was just testing him to see how compliant your little spell made him.”

Sure, now that she knew she couldn’t have it, it was a little spell. “How do we find this mole? Maybe he can give us better information.”

“He’s not here, unfortunately. Not only did he give us this information at the last possible minute, he’s gone into hiding. Probably ice fishing in Canada or something.”

“So, this group without a name—”

“The Fellowship.”

“Okay. This Fellowship: What do we do about them?” I wasn’t sure whether the society wanted to dig into their secrets or if they wanted us to keep our hands off in case we flushed out their rat.

“Just don’t kill them all,” she said, her voice tight. Apparently, that was all she had to say.

She finished photographing the license plates, then we followed the path Horace had made in the mud to the house.

Catherine pulled herself up and peeped into a window. “Empty,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She hurried to the back door. I saw a keypad on the wall and a sign announcing which security company would send a car if the alarm went off. Luckily, Horace had propped the door open with a hand truck.

She went inside and I followed. I didn’t like it, but I followed. The oppressive warmth and bright lights made me feel like I’d been captured already.

“This way,” Catherine said. She moved the hand truck quietly against the wall.

She led me through a mudroom into the kitchen. We passed a gas grill, a fridge that had a door larger than my bed, and a long stainless steel counter.

“There.” Catherine hurried into the pantry and began inspecting aprons hanging from hooks. When she reached a white, double-breasted jacket, she yanked it down and held it against my chest. “Put this on. It’ll let you get close enough to these guys to do your mind-control thing.”

I stripped off my jacket and gave it to her. “It’s not mind control, you know. All it does is make them sorta docile. They get all apologetic if they’ve been trying to kill me, but that’s it.”

“What if they’re not trying to kill you?” She grabbed a tray off a metal rack and placed a plate on it. “What if you just need information from them?”

“I tried that,” I answered. “But only once. I didn’t like the results.”

I pulled on the white jacket. It was too small; my wrists and shirttails stuck out. She picked up a silver tray, and then we heard footsteps. I slapped the light switch off, and Catherine swung the pantry door until it was just open a crack. She peeked through the opening, and I joined her.

At first we could only see an empty kitchen. We heard a rattling doorknob and a woman cursing under her breath, then she hurried into view. She was at least seventy, hollow-looking, with long, stringy hair. Her nightgown was dingy and speckled with food. It looked like she hadn’t bathed in a long time.

Heavier footsteps followed her. She grabbed a ladle and held it in both hands. I didn’t think she had the strength to hurt a squirrel, but she looked enthusiastic. “Keep away!” she said. Her voice had an air of lost authority.

Then the man she was warning off stepped into view. He was about thirty-five, with the pouchy face of a hard drinker. He wore sloppy nurse whites and had just enough muscle to push around old women.

“Regina,” he said with warning in his voice, “you know better than this.”

“You keep away,” Regina said, her voice high. “You’re fired!”

“Regina, if you come peacefully—”

She swung the ladle, hitting him on the fat part of his shoulder. The blow didn’t have enough force to dent a stick of cold butter, but the nurse bared his teeth. “How many times do I have to teach you this lesson?” He snatched the ladle out of her hand and tossed it clattering into the sink. Regina cowered, but he wasn’t in a merciful mood. He grabbed her wrist and pinched the skin of her upper arm viciously. Regina’s face contorted with pain, her mouth making a silent oh oh oh as she tried to slump away from him toward the floor.

Cold revulsion flooded through me and rekindled a fire that I’d been lacking for months.

Catherine must have sensed something because she held her hand in front of me, trying to keep me in hiding. Unfortunately, I wasn’t made for investigating.

I pulled a skillet off a hook, not caring how much sound it made, and stepped forward. Catherine backed away from the door and let me pull it wide. She knew there was nothing to be gained by scuffling with me.

When the nurse noticed me, his smugness turned into astonishment. I charged at him. He shouted “Hey!” An instant later I was on him. He threw his hands up and flinched, but it was all instinct. Instead of swinging the skillet in a wide arc, which probably would have killed him, I jabbed with it, angling it between his elbows. It struck the side of his jaw.

He tumbled backward onto the floor. He was out like a light, and I felt no satisfaction in it.

Regina was still crouched beside the sink. I offered her my hand, and she looked at it as if it might burn her. She stood without my help.