The Veil
Page 25
“Which one of us are you talking to, Hawkins?” Liam asked.
He smiled at Liam. “Weapons?”
Liam pulled up his shirt, showing the gun belted at his lean hip. He removed it, handed it over.
Hawkins nodded, scanned it, placed it in a locked box beneath his console. “You know the drill. You can retrieve it on the way out.”
When Liam nodded, Hawkins brushed fingertips across his control panel, and the security grid disappeared.
“You’re about to leave the city of New Orleans and enter a territory of the United States government,” Hawkins recited. “The U.S. government makes no guarantees regarding your health, welfare, or safety while you are inside Devil’s Isle. Magic is prohibited inside the walls. If you observe magic, report it immediately to the nearest Containment agent. Other than that, have a good night, and be careful in there.” Hawkins leaned back into the gatehouse and pressed a button, and the gate began to slide open.
I followed Liam through the gate, into the area that had once been the Marigny. And just like that, I was inside Devil’s Isle.
I tried to calm my ragged nerves. “Anything you want to prepare me for?”
“You haven’t been in the Marigny since the war?”
I shook my head.
“It looks a lot different now. That can be hard for people who lived here, or have memories of here, so just plan on being surprised. As for Paras, keep your eyes ahead of you. Don’t stare at anyone, don’t talk to anyone. Stay beside me. If someone approaches us, let me handle it.”
The sun had long since set. “It’s late. You think we’ll have issues?”
“Some Paras are nocturnal, and most aren’t too fond of humans. Guards will be posted everywhere, and you don’t want to stare at them, either. And don’t do magic. Like Hawkins said, it’s banned, and there are monitors everywhere.”
“We’re already in Devil’s Isle,” I murmured. “What else could happen?”
He didn’t seem to appreciate my sarcasm. “Gunshot wounds from a guard’s service weapon, or solitary confinement in a jacket.” He glanced down at me. “You’ve seen those before? The ones they capture wraiths in?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have.”
“Basically, you don’t want to draw any undue attention to yourself. You want to blend.”
The warnings aside, that actually calmed me. “Blending I can do,” I assured him, and blew out a nervous breath. “Where are the wraiths and Sensitives kept?”
“There’s a clinic. It’s on the other side of the neighborhood. We won’t be going near there tonight.”
That made me feel a little better.
“You do what I say, and get this done, and you’ll be fine. I promise. And try to keep an open mind.”
I glanced at him. “About what?”
Hands on his hips, he settled his gaze on the streets and buildings in front of us. “About everything.”
• • •
The Marigny had been a mostly residential neighborhood with blocks of Creole cottages and shotgun houses. The streets were in pretty much the same place as they’d been before, but half of those buildings were gone.
War had knocked some of them down. Containment had left some of the lots empty, probably to improve their lines of sight from the tall guard towers in the middle of each wall and on each corner. Other lots had been refilled with long metal temporary buildings.
There were uniformed guards every few hundred feet in familiar gray fatigues, guns belted at their waists. And above them, mounted on the buildings, were the magic monitors.
He smiled at Liam. “Weapons?”
Liam pulled up his shirt, showing the gun belted at his lean hip. He removed it, handed it over.
Hawkins nodded, scanned it, placed it in a locked box beneath his console. “You know the drill. You can retrieve it on the way out.”
When Liam nodded, Hawkins brushed fingertips across his control panel, and the security grid disappeared.
“You’re about to leave the city of New Orleans and enter a territory of the United States government,” Hawkins recited. “The U.S. government makes no guarantees regarding your health, welfare, or safety while you are inside Devil’s Isle. Magic is prohibited inside the walls. If you observe magic, report it immediately to the nearest Containment agent. Other than that, have a good night, and be careful in there.” Hawkins leaned back into the gatehouse and pressed a button, and the gate began to slide open.
I followed Liam through the gate, into the area that had once been the Marigny. And just like that, I was inside Devil’s Isle.
I tried to calm my ragged nerves. “Anything you want to prepare me for?”
“You haven’t been in the Marigny since the war?”
I shook my head.
“It looks a lot different now. That can be hard for people who lived here, or have memories of here, so just plan on being surprised. As for Paras, keep your eyes ahead of you. Don’t stare at anyone, don’t talk to anyone. Stay beside me. If someone approaches us, let me handle it.”
The sun had long since set. “It’s late. You think we’ll have issues?”
“Some Paras are nocturnal, and most aren’t too fond of humans. Guards will be posted everywhere, and you don’t want to stare at them, either. And don’t do magic. Like Hawkins said, it’s banned, and there are monitors everywhere.”
“We’re already in Devil’s Isle,” I murmured. “What else could happen?”
He didn’t seem to appreciate my sarcasm. “Gunshot wounds from a guard’s service weapon, or solitary confinement in a jacket.” He glanced down at me. “You’ve seen those before? The ones they capture wraiths in?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have.”
“Basically, you don’t want to draw any undue attention to yourself. You want to blend.”
The warnings aside, that actually calmed me. “Blending I can do,” I assured him, and blew out a nervous breath. “Where are the wraiths and Sensitives kept?”
“There’s a clinic. It’s on the other side of the neighborhood. We won’t be going near there tonight.”
That made me feel a little better.
“You do what I say, and get this done, and you’ll be fine. I promise. And try to keep an open mind.”
I glanced at him. “About what?”
Hands on his hips, he settled his gaze on the streets and buildings in front of us. “About everything.”
• • •
The Marigny had been a mostly residential neighborhood with blocks of Creole cottages and shotgun houses. The streets were in pretty much the same place as they’d been before, but half of those buildings were gone.
War had knocked some of them down. Containment had left some of the lots empty, probably to improve their lines of sight from the tall guard towers in the middle of each wall and on each corner. Other lots had been refilled with long metal temporary buildings.
There were uniformed guards every few hundred feet in familiar gray fatigues, guns belted at their waists. And above them, mounted on the buildings, were the magic monitors.
