“Never mind,” Jonah said. He was close to being petulant, but he didn’t care.
Gabriel sighed. “Losing Mose was hard on all of us, Jonah. You especially. Every time we lose a student, I feel like we’ve failed.”
This was the place where Jonah was supposed to say, It’s not your fault, Gabriel, everyone knows you’re doing the best that you can.
Instead, he said, “Tell me again why we have to be here? Are they actually voting on this motion today?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Mercedes has put it on the agenda for discussion. One thing I’ve learned in my years in the business is that personal connection is always more effective. Engagement prevents all manner of rumors from getting started. If you can just be your usual charming self, Jonah, I know it will go a long way toward allaying any fears.” After a long pause, he said, “We’d better go. I don’t want to walk in late.”
Jonah slid out of the car.
“Promise me you won’t get into any more fights with mainliners,” Gabriel said as they crossed the square.
“That wasn’t a fight.”
“What do you call it, then?”
“Sparring.”
“Still. When mainliners see that you are good with a sword, it makes them think. It makes them wonder how you developed that skill. They may remember there was a boy at the bridge.”
“Saving their children’s lives.”
“They may not see it that way.”
“So my job is to be pretty, and charming, but not too capable?”
“Your job is to be judicious about which capabilities you share with others,” Gabriel said, leading the way up a flight of stone steps to the door of a church.
The sanctuary was already half filled, so Gabriel and Jonah filed up the side aisle toward the front and turned into the side chapel. Jonah spotted Jack Swift and Ellen Stephenson at the back of the chapel, sprawled across the last pew, their swords propped up beside them. Working security, no doubt. Jonah and Gabriel found their way to seats three rows from the front.
Looking forward, Jonah saw that Leesha Middleton and Mercedes Foster were seated in the front row.
About a dozen people were ranged around a conference table that had been set up on the dais. McCauley was the only one Jonah recognized.
Mercedes Foster paused to speak with them on her way to the front of the church. “Hello, Gabriel, Jonah.”
The crowd in the sanctuary was restive, seething. Some of the spectators seemed to be in an ugly mood. “This looks like a lynch mob,” Jonah murmured. “Is it always like this?”
“Feelings are running high about the Montessori kidnapping,” Mercedes said. “I hope you wore your bulletproof vests.” She rolled her eyes. “Look on the bright side…it will make for a lively discussion.”
“Do you think we should defer introducing the representation proposal?” Gabriel asked.
Mercedes shook her head. “I hope we’ll get support, if not here, then in the town at large. Your Natalie was like a goodwill ambassador for the Anchorage when she was here. Everybody was impressed with her.” The sorcerer looked around. “I thought you were going to bring her today.”
“I was,” Gabriel said. “But then I had a request for a healer to see a seriously ill patient. I hoped she’d be back in time to come with us today, but I understand it’s been a tough case.”
That’s just what Natalie needed, after Mose, Jonah thought. Another tough case. Some savants lived with their extended families outside of Gabriel’s complex, but many of them still came to the Anchorage for health care.
As Mercedes walked on up the aisle, Gabriel studied the crowd. “I’ve never seen so many mainliners at one of these meetings,” he murmured.
Jonah recognized some faces from his previous visit to Trinity. The angry parents who had confronted McCauley were all there, and then some. Scanning the crowd, Jonah saw Ms. Morrison, Ms. Hudson, and Mr. Scavuzzo in the audience.
“Gabriel,” Jonah said. “There’s something you should know about what happened at the sparring match. Some parents seemed to think—”
Somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Ellen leaning over the back of the pew. “Jonah! Did you get my texts? We were hoping you’d come work out.”
“Oh. Right. I did get your texts, I should have answered back. I’ve been buried in—in schoolwork,” Jonah said.
“Jonah is serving an apprenticeship with me,” Gabriel said. “Learning the music business. Between that and school and his own music, he doesn’t have time to do much else.”
“Speaking of music, Mr. Mandrake, we’re looking for a local band to play at a private party,” Ellen said. “An indie band, that plays original music. Not too pricey. I thought you might have a recommendation.”
“If you e-mail Patrick in my office, he’ll be able to send you a list, by genre,” Gabriel said.
Just then, McCauley banged his gavel. “We have a full agenda, so let’s get this thing started,” he said. He looked around. “I see lots of new faces here. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Seph McCauley, secretary of the council.” He nodded toward a young woman on his right, who glowed brighter than anyone else in the room.
“I’m Madison Moss, council chair,” she said. Madison Moss was a tall, rangy girl whose wavy hair was pulled back in a clip. She wore a long, divided skirt, cowboy boots, and a handwoven scarf wrapped three times around her neck.
“That’s the Dragon Heir,” Gabriel murmured. “The source of power for all mainliners.”
Jonah had difficulty matching her up with the way he’d heard her described by wizards. She didn’t look much like a despot, to tell the truth. Just now the notorious Dragon Heir seemed to be doodling on a sketch pad hidden under the table.
“She’s not that much older than me,” Jonah said.
“She’s had to grow up fast,” Gabriel said. “She’s not entirely comfortable in this role.”
“I’d like to welcome back Leander Hastings and Linda Downey,” Moss said. “As y’all know, they’ve been cataloging the weaponry, manuscripts, and other heirloom items at Dragon’s Ghyll in the UK. They’ll be presenting a report on their progress.”
Hastings raised one hand in acknowledgment. He looks more like the despot, Jonah thought. Hastings had a hard, ruthless face under a tumble of dark curls. Linda Downey stood, briefly, so she could be seen. She was small, with exquisite features and spiky black hair. Like a flare of light in the darkness, she drew every eye in the room.
“They’re McCauley’s parents,” Gabriel said. “They were active in the underguild rebellion for years. Hastings is a wizard, Downey an enchanter.”
“Really?” Jonah had never seen an enchanter in the flesh—if you didn’t count looking in the mirror. He leaned forward, angling for a better view. Then, just as quickly, he shifted his gaze away. He knew what it was like to be stared at.
Madison Moss introduced the others around the table, which included representatives from each of the mainline guilds.
“We expect Rowan DeVries to be here as well, from the Wizard Guild,” McCauley said, gesturing at an empty chair. “He must have been delayed.”
“Now,” Moss said, scanning some notes in front of her. “Before we get into the agenda, are there announcements?”
Gabriel stood up. “We have a quick announcement,” he said.
“Of course,” Moss said, squinting to see who had spoken. “Mr.—”
“I’m Gabriel Mandrake,” he said. “And this is my associate, Jonah Kinlock.” Gabriel motioned to Jonah, who reluctantly pushed to his feet. “We want to remind you all to buy your tickets for the annual Thorn Hill benefit concert, which will be held on March fifteenth, at the Keep.”
A murmur ran through the sanctuary, mingled excitement and disapproval.
“As usual, we have a fantastic lineup…some great local bands, as well as rare appearances by Lisbet and Fallen Angels.”
“We’re going, Jack,” Ellen whispered, behind Jon
ah. “I love Lisbet.”
“Tickets go on sale next week,” Gabriel continued. “And they’re expected to go fast. In the meantime, I hope you’ll check out our silent auction online. You’ll find lots of rare and one-of-a-kind artifacts and donations by musicians from all over the world. And if any of you have donations for the auction or the cause, Jonah here…” Jonah raised his hand. “Jonah will be happy to take your pledges.”
A buzz of excited commentary followed. Fragments reached Jonah’s ears. I wouldn’t set foot in that place.… Lisbet! Can you believe it—Lisbet!
“Let’s move on to new business,” Moss said, over the muted din. “Mercedes?”
The sorcerer Mercedes Foster stood. “We have a request from the survivors of the Thorn Hill disaster to be given representation on council. I support this request, and I would like to introduce this issue for discussion in preparation for a motion.”
“All right,” Moss said. “Is there discussion?”
Scavuzzo raised his hand. “There are representatives from every guild on the council already. Why single them out for special treatment?”
“I can speak to that,” Gabriel said. He stood. “We believe that the issues confronting the savant survivors of Thorn Hill are different enough from those of the mainline guilds that they could benefit from having a voice on council.”
A seer stood up. “Will we have a representative for every kind of disability, then? How about nearsighted people?”
Linda Downey raised her hand. “It seems to me that the distinction is that here we’re speaking of magical differences, not physical or racial distinctions. If the savants are magically different from the other guilds, then that might warrant their being given representation on council.”
Morrison stood, claiming the floor. “It seems to me that residents of Thorn Hill are either in the magical guilds or out. If they are in the guilds, then they are represented. If they are out of the guilds, then they don’t belong on this council. Jack Swift, for example, is a mongrel of sorts, yet he is considered a member of the Warrior Guild.”
Jack snorted softly, behind Jonah.
Hudson chimed in. “Perhaps we should investigate the kinds of magical mutations present at Thorn Hill so that we can make a better decision.”
Jonah slid a look at Gabriel, knowing he wouldn’t like that idea. As Lilith had said, he liked to keep his secrets.
“We need to move on,” Moss said. “Is there a motion?”
“I move that we accept written comments over the next two months,” Mercedes said. “Madison can appoint a subcommittee to summarize them and present them to council in…um…February.”
And so, effectively, the idea was tabled. Gabriel looked disappointed, but Jonah figured it was better than having it voted down.
Moss seemed relieved to be moving on. “Now, to old business: Alicia Middleton and Mercedes Foster will update us on the Trinity Montessori incident.”
Mercedes and Leesha stood up, so that Jonah and Gabriel were looking at their backs.
Leesha took the lead. “I spoke with a reliable source in the Trinity Police Department. According to him, the Cleveland police are pretty much stymied. They did spot a suspect on the lift bridge with the children, but somehow he got away.”
A rumble of displeasure arose from the spectators.
“Why are the police investigating what is clearly a magical matter?” Scavuzzo shouted.
“The police don’t know it’s a magical matter, Mr. Scavuzzo,” Mercedes said. “If you don’t believe in magic, you don’t go looking for a magical explanation. That puts them at a tremendous disadvantage. As you can imagine, they are under considerable public pressure to solve the crime.”
Hudson sniffed. “Since we all agree that the police investigation is a waste of time, what have you uncovered in your investigation?”
“There were approximately two hundred corpses scattered on the bridge deck and on both banks of the river,” Mercedes said. “I’ve examined the cadavers. They seem to be a mixture of fresh bodies and…ah…‘seasoned’ corpses. Some of them apparently came from Mapleside Cemetery west of Cleveland. How they were transported to the Flats, we don’t know.” She hesitated. “The children mentioned zombies.”
A murmur rolled through the crowd.
“The tabloids have been having a field day,” Leesha said. “Several companies have sprung up, offering what they call Zombie Walks in the Flats.”
“The corpses…could you detect anything magical about them?” Leander Hastings asked.
The sorcerer shook her head. “If there was any magic there to start with, it was gone by the time I arrived. They had all been chopped into little bits.”
“How would that have happened?” Moss asked, looking mystified.
“We thought at first they’d just…you know…fallen apart, being old and all,” Leesha answered. “But some of the bones were sliced right through or battered into pieces. The children we’ve interviewed mentioned a boy with…with a big stick, but disagreed about whether he was allied with the zombies or fighting against them.”
Jonah looked down at the floor, feeling conspicuous.
“As you can imagine, the children have been difficult and inconsistent witnesses,” Mercedes said. “One other thing: shredded nightshade was found scattered over the bridge surface.”
“Nightshade?” McCauley said. “Then it’s tied to the other attacks on the gifted.”
Mercedes nodded. “We’re thinking it was either the same people, or someone trying to cast suspicion on them.”
“You should send a team to the Anchorage if you want to find the culprits,” Hudson shouted. She avoided looking at Gabriel and Jonah. Some in the crowd murmured in agreement.
Mercedes swung around to stare Hudson down. “Hilary, there’s not one scrap of evidence linking the Anchorage to the bridge incident.”
“We need to find evidence,” Scavuzzo said, openly glaring at Gabriel. “We should hold an informal lineup. Bring in our children, and see if they recognize any of the labrats.”
“We can’t put the children through that,” Hudson countered. “It’s insane. What we should do is collect DNA from the inmates at the Anchorage. See if we can make a match with what we find at the crime scene.”
“You’ve been watching too many episodes of CSI,” a man shouted from the audience. “The students at the Anchorage are not criminals. They’re differently gifted.”
By now, a half-dozen spectators were on their feet, shouting, demanding the floor.
Jonah looked over at Gabriel, who sat calmly, apparently scrolling through messages on his phone.
“Hey! All of you…shut up!” The voice echoed through the nave.
The shouting died instantly.
Ellen glared around the room, fists on hips. Jack stood beside her.
“Ellen and I are here to remind you that this is a meeting, not a brawl,” Jack said.
Ellen nodded. “So the next person that talks out of turn is going to get pitched right out of the window.”
“So now you’re using thugs to stifle dissent?” Morrison shouted.
Ellen vaulted over the pew in front of her and strode toward Morrison. For a moment, Jonah thought he was going to see wizards fly, but Morrison sat down quickly and Ellen returned to her seat.
Shooting a grateful look at the warriors, Moss said, “We need to give Mercedes and Leesha time to do their jobs. I know emotions are running high, and I assure you we’ll follow the evidence wherever it leads. If anyone has information that might help us, contact Leesha or Mercedes. They’ll keep in close touch with the police and the preschool administration and let us know of any…um…developments.” She paused. “Let’s move on. Is there an update on the cataloging of the Hoard?” She looked at Linda Downey and Leander Hastings.
Linda stood, but before she could speak, someone else did, in a carrying voice that rang through the church from the rear.
“Perhaps you should distribute the weapons
to those of us in the guilds who need them for their own protection.” It was a woman’s voice, cold and cutting.
Jonah turned to look.
Three wizards stalked down the aisle—an angular woman with cropped, reddish-brown hair, a whippetlike man with an early-morning five o’clock shadow, and a young man with sun-streaked chestnut hair.
Rowan DeVries.
Jonah sat bolt upright, his heart accelerating. Then, just as quickly, he slumped down, concealing himself behind those in the rows ahead.
“What is it, Jonah?” Gabriel asked, putting a hand on his arm.
“That’s Rowan DeVries. Remember? He’s the wizard that was there when Jeanette was murdered.” And, oh, by the way, I killed his sister. “I don’t know the other two.”
“That’s Nancy Hackleford and Granville Burroughs,” Gabriel said. “They’re known to be longtime associates of the Black Rose. They’re not on council.”
Moss and McCauley exchanged glances, then waited until the trio had made their way to the table and stood behind the only empty seat. “Burroughs? Hackleford?” Moss said. “It’s been a while. And Rowan? Glad you could be here.”
“Sorry I’m late,” DeVries said. “I was delayed by a death in the family.” His amber eyes rested on Moss. “But maybe you already knew that.”
Moss shook her head, eyes widening in surprise. “No! How would I—”
“My sister Rachel was murdered, along with seven other wizards,” DeVries said.
“Including my daughter, Brooke,” Hackleford said. “She was just seventeen.”
Everyone started talking at once, their voices rising higher and higher, but they didn’t drown out the voice in Jonah’s head. You know what it’s like to lose a sister. He will never, ever stop hunting you.
Finally, Moss slammed the gavel down. “Hang on! Let’s hear what he has to say!”
The din diminished.
“Unless you’d rather we took a brief recess so that we can talk in private,” Moss added.
“No,” DeVries said. “We want everyone on the council to hear this.”