Cold Days
Page 72
I nodded. All of that hung together, based upon everything I knew of magic. People always assume that magic is a free ride-but it isn't. You can't pull energy from nowhere, and there are laws that govern how it behaves.
"So this . . . time bomb. It has to come from how close?" I asked.
"The shores of the lake, I suspect," Vadderung said. "The island itself would be the ideal location, but I doubt that it will cooperate with any such effort."
"Not hardly," I agreed. "And you can't just scribble a chalk circle and pull this spell out of your hat. It's got to have an energy source. A big one."
"Precisely," Vadderung said.
"And those things tend to stand out."
He smiled. "They do."
"And whoever is trying to pull this off, if they know enough about futzing with time to be making this attempt, they know that the echoes will warn people that it's coming. They'll be ready to argue with anyone who tries to thwart them."
"They most certainly will." He finished his coffee.
I had made the right call here. Vadderung's advice had changed the problem from something enormous and inexplicable to something that was merely very difficult, very dangerous, and likely to get me killed.
"Um," I said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but . . . this is a high-stakes game."
"The highest, yes," he agreed.
"I'm thinking that maybe someone with a little more experience and better footing should handle it. Someone like you, maybe."
He shook his head. "It isn't practical."
I frowned. "Not practical?"
"It must be you."
"Why me?"
"It's your island," Vadderung said.
"That makes no sense."
He tilted his head and looked at me. "Wizard . . . you have been dead and returned. It has marked you. It has opened doors and paths that you do not yet know exist, and attracted the attention of beings who formerly would never have taken note of your insignificance."
"Meaning what?" I asked.
There was no humor at all in his face. "Meaning that now more than ever, you are a fulcrum. Meaning that your life is about to become very, very interesting."
"I don't understand," I said.
He leaned forward slightly. "Correct that." He looked at his watch and rose. "I'm afraid I'm out of time."
I shook my head, rising with him, blocking him. "Wait. My plate is already pretty full here, and if you haven't noticed, I'm barely competent to keep myself alive, much less to prevent Arkham Asylum from turning into the next Tunguska blast."
Vadderung met my eyes with his and said in a growl, "Move."
I moved.
Ilooked away, too. I'd seen too many things with my Sight already. And I had a bad feeling that trading a soulgaze with Vadderung would not improve my performance over the next day or so.
"Where are Hugin and Munin?" I asked.
"I left them at the office," he said. "They don't like you, I'm afraid."
"Birdbrains," I muttered.
He smiled, nodded to Mac, and walked to the door.
"Can I do this?" I asked his back.
"You can."
I made an exasperated sound. "How do you know?"
Odin turned to look back at me with his gleaming eye, his teeth bared in a wolf's smile, the scar on either side of his eye patch silver in the light coming through the door. "Perhaps," he murmured, "you already have."
Then he opened the door and left.
I scowled at where he'd been standing, and then slouched back on my barstool. I grabbed my beer, finished it, and set it down a little harder than I had to.
Mac was back at the grill, making some of his famous steak sandwiches for Thomas and Molly. I waved at him, but before I could say anything, he had already added another steak to the first two. My stomach growled as I got up and went to Molly and Thomas's table.
Perhaps you already have.
Now, what the hell had he meant by that?
Chapter Twenty-two
I filled Molly and Thomas in on what I had learned from Vadderung while we ate. Mac's steak sandwiches were too awesome not to eat, even if it was more or less breakfast time.
Molly blinked as I finished. "Uh. Who is that guy?"
Thomas gave me an even look. My brother had figured it out. He tilted his head microscopically toward Molly.
"A friend, I think," I said. "When you work it out, you're ready to know."
"Ah." Molly frowned and toyed with a few crumbs, pushing them around with a forefinger. She nodded. "Okay."
"So what's next?" Thomas asked.
I finished the last few bites of my sandwich in a hurry. Man, that tasted good. I washed it down with some more of Mac's excellent beer. Normally, a couple of bottles along with a meal would leave me ready for a nap. Today they felt about as soporific as Red Bull.
"Molly," I said, "I want you to go talk to Toot. I need the guard to gather up and be ready to move when I give the word."
"Scouts?" she guessed.
I nodded. "While you're doing that, I'm going to go figure out the potential sites for the time bomb spell so we know where to aim the guard. Order some pizza; that will gather them in."
"Okay," she said. "Um . . . money?"
I looked at Thomas. "She already came through for me once. Your turn."
"So this . . . time bomb. It has to come from how close?" I asked.
"The shores of the lake, I suspect," Vadderung said. "The island itself would be the ideal location, but I doubt that it will cooperate with any such effort."
"Not hardly," I agreed. "And you can't just scribble a chalk circle and pull this spell out of your hat. It's got to have an energy source. A big one."
"Precisely," Vadderung said.
"And those things tend to stand out."
He smiled. "They do."
"And whoever is trying to pull this off, if they know enough about futzing with time to be making this attempt, they know that the echoes will warn people that it's coming. They'll be ready to argue with anyone who tries to thwart them."
"They most certainly will." He finished his coffee.
I had made the right call here. Vadderung's advice had changed the problem from something enormous and inexplicable to something that was merely very difficult, very dangerous, and likely to get me killed.
"Um," I said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but . . . this is a high-stakes game."
"The highest, yes," he agreed.
"I'm thinking that maybe someone with a little more experience and better footing should handle it. Someone like you, maybe."
He shook his head. "It isn't practical."
I frowned. "Not practical?"
"It must be you."
"Why me?"
"It's your island," Vadderung said.
"That makes no sense."
He tilted his head and looked at me. "Wizard . . . you have been dead and returned. It has marked you. It has opened doors and paths that you do not yet know exist, and attracted the attention of beings who formerly would never have taken note of your insignificance."
"Meaning what?" I asked.
There was no humor at all in his face. "Meaning that now more than ever, you are a fulcrum. Meaning that your life is about to become very, very interesting."
"I don't understand," I said.
He leaned forward slightly. "Correct that." He looked at his watch and rose. "I'm afraid I'm out of time."
I shook my head, rising with him, blocking him. "Wait. My plate is already pretty full here, and if you haven't noticed, I'm barely competent to keep myself alive, much less to prevent Arkham Asylum from turning into the next Tunguska blast."
Vadderung met my eyes with his and said in a growl, "Move."
I moved.
Ilooked away, too. I'd seen too many things with my Sight already. And I had a bad feeling that trading a soulgaze with Vadderung would not improve my performance over the next day or so.
"Where are Hugin and Munin?" I asked.
"I left them at the office," he said. "They don't like you, I'm afraid."
"Birdbrains," I muttered.
He smiled, nodded to Mac, and walked to the door.
"Can I do this?" I asked his back.
"You can."
I made an exasperated sound. "How do you know?"
Odin turned to look back at me with his gleaming eye, his teeth bared in a wolf's smile, the scar on either side of his eye patch silver in the light coming through the door. "Perhaps," he murmured, "you already have."
Then he opened the door and left.
I scowled at where he'd been standing, and then slouched back on my barstool. I grabbed my beer, finished it, and set it down a little harder than I had to.
Mac was back at the grill, making some of his famous steak sandwiches for Thomas and Molly. I waved at him, but before I could say anything, he had already added another steak to the first two. My stomach growled as I got up and went to Molly and Thomas's table.
Perhaps you already have.
Now, what the hell had he meant by that?
Chapter Twenty-two
I filled Molly and Thomas in on what I had learned from Vadderung while we ate. Mac's steak sandwiches were too awesome not to eat, even if it was more or less breakfast time.
Molly blinked as I finished. "Uh. Who is that guy?"
Thomas gave me an even look. My brother had figured it out. He tilted his head microscopically toward Molly.
"A friend, I think," I said. "When you work it out, you're ready to know."
"Ah." Molly frowned and toyed with a few crumbs, pushing them around with a forefinger. She nodded. "Okay."
"So what's next?" Thomas asked.
I finished the last few bites of my sandwich in a hurry. Man, that tasted good. I washed it down with some more of Mac's excellent beer. Normally, a couple of bottles along with a meal would leave me ready for a nap. Today they felt about as soporific as Red Bull.
"Molly," I said, "I want you to go talk to Toot. I need the guard to gather up and be ready to move when I give the word."
"Scouts?" she guessed.
I nodded. "While you're doing that, I'm going to go figure out the potential sites for the time bomb spell so we know where to aim the guard. Order some pizza; that will gather them in."
"Okay," she said. "Um . . . money?"
I looked at Thomas. "She already came through for me once. Your turn."
