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  “Dante, my friend, we are surrounded on all sides by dangerous women.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  +

  I rubbed my stomach. Salisbury steak night had not been kind. Spinoza paced back-and-forth with his clipboard. His long riding coat flapped around behind him. It was like a pseudo-cape. I had always hoped capes would make a comeback. This guy was giving me hope.

  “Forty-five days. We have forty-five days.”

  I looked at the remnants of Lambda Squad. Sadie was picking at the enormous wrap around her right arm. Roster was slouching on his cot. Sheila and Dante were re-adjusting one another’s ice packs…how romantic.

  “Ms. Rice,” Spinoza growled. “Can you please tell me what happens in forty-five days?”

  “We go active, sir. We travel to Las Vegas. We investigate Carrera’s organization. We find evidence of ACT, and we deliver that evidence to an ICE representative. That would be you, I presume?”

  “Correct. And how do you intend to achieve that objective?”

  “Sir?” Monique asked.

  “You have just over a month to prepare for this mission. You are in command, Ms. Rice. I am but a consultant. What is your plan?”

  Monique frowned.

  Spinoza threw his pencil against the ground. “Never mind. Mr. Resnick, what would you do?”

  I jumped at the question. I was sitting next to Jules on one of the cots. It was ten in the morning, and I was still struggling to wake up. Spinoza’s question caught me off guard.

  “Sir?” I asked.

  “What would you do, Mr. Resnick? The people in this room are your resources. Tell me how you would achieve this objective.”

  I was about to tell Spinoza to shove it when Jules elbowed me in the kidney (again). “Ouch! Well, sir, um, judging by that DEA slideshow, if we confronted Talmax head-on, we’d probably all get killed.”

  “Are you suggesting a covert action?”

  “I guess so…” Covert sounded better than Custer’s last charge. “But something’s been nagging me about Talmax. Both times we’ve fought them, we’ve only had to face a single mage. The rest of the men looked like hired guns. I think that makes Talmax vulnerable.”

  “How so,” Spinoza asked.

  “Well…”

  “I get what he means,” Monique said. “Dieter is saying that Talmax is an organization with a small, loyal coven and lots of hired help. They aren’t going to work for free. Carrera has to pay them. But Carrera can only trust his coven to do the paying. That means the mages are the ones using ACT devices and handling the cash. If we want to find ACT devices, all we have to do is track the flow of drug money back to its source.”

  “Good,” Spinoza said. “Now develop your plan, Ms. Rice.”

  “We want a small footprint on the ground so we don’t attract attention. That means we should divide the squad up into smaller teams: an insertion team to go undercover and gather information, a tactical team ready on standby, a containment team to recover a device, and…” Monique frowned. “Darn it. We need some way of getting the team out fast. We can use surprise to catch them off guard, but it would be only a matter of time before they ran us down.”

  Spinoza turned to Maria. “Mija…”

  “Don’t call me mija,” she retorted.

  “Spinoza’s her father?” I asked Jules.

  Jules nodded. “Bad divorce.”

  I smirked. Espinoza was like ex-Spinoza. It was stupid—but it probably drove daddy crazy.

  Spinoza cleared his throat. “Fine. Maria, what is your current range with a two meter aperture?”

  “Five hundred meters.”

  “Whoa. Awesome,” I interjected. Find me a nerd who doesn’t want to teleport, and I’ll give you a million dollars.

  Maria blushed. “But I need line of sight…unless you want to end up like that Talmax squad did in Colorado.”

  Roster coughed, “Paella.”

  “That was six thousand kilometers,” Maria shot back. “And you don’t get to keep bringing that up anymore, Mr. Faceplant.”

  “Ah, I remember your mother’s paella,” Spinoza said wistfully.

  “And I remember catching you with your secretary.”

  What could I say? The girl was on a roll.

  “Maria, you said you needed a direct line of sight. Is there any way around that?”

  “Linked circles,” Jules replied. “You set up one circle at the origin and chalk down another at the target. That provides a focus point.”

  Maria nodded. “Then we’d only be limited by my mana reserves. If Jules or Sadie did the other circle, I could do ten kilometers, no problem.”

  “Very good,” Spinoza said, “Give me your assignments, Ms. Rice. We shall form training plans accordingly.”

  “Okay. Dieter, you’re from Las Vegas. I’m putting you, Dante, Rei and Jules on the insertion team; Roster, Sheila and myself will be on tactical; Ichijo and Sadie will handle the ACT; and Maria, you’re in charge of getting us in and out of this mess.

  “Hold on,” Sadie said standing up, “I want to be on the strike team.”

  I raised an eyebrow. She’d said it with such a focused determination in her voice. Burning all the skin off her right arm didn’t seem to have phased Sadie one bit.

  Spinoza frowned. “Ms. Thompson, my condolences, but I will remind you that this mission is not about obtaining vengeance. It is about obtaining evidence. If you get me that evidence—I assure you—I will be your very own St. Michael.”

  Sadie didn’t flinch. “Sir, Ichijo doesn’t need my help with containment, and no one on the strike team can do mid-range casts.”

  “Ms. Thompson, your involvement would be unwise,” Spinoza said shaking his head.

  I thought back to my conversation with Rei on the train. About the importance of mages keeping their opponents at a distance. We couldn’t just throw Roster and Sheila at them like pawns. Not if we hoped to get everyone out the door in the end.

  “Sir, I think Sadie’s right. We need something like a machine gun, something to lay down cover. If we don’t have that, we’re gonna get chewed up at the exit.”

  Sheila shifted her icepack. “Dieter is correct. A portal is exactly like a landing zone. Without suppressing fire, we would be extremely vulnerable during entry and exit. Sadie’s new technique is perfect for that…as long as she doesn’t cut Roster and me down from behind.”

  “I won’t,” Sadie said with confidence. “I swear on my parents’ names I’ll be ready.”

  Spinoza shrugged. “If Dregs and Mordred are fine with having that blowtorch at their backs, I don’t give a damn.” He tapped his clipboard. “Bueno. Let us begin. Mr. Resnick, how’s the shoulder?”

  I moved it around in its socket. It actually felt pretty good. Hard to believe Rei had pulled it out of its socket only three days ago. “Stiff, sir. But it moves.”

  Spinoza smiled.

  I bit my lip. The correct response was ‘Terrible.’

  “Ms. Nelson, is he stable enough?”

  Jules looked at me with a dour expression. “If and when he focuses, yes.”

  “Good.” Spinoza turned to Sheila. “Ms. Mordred, how about some target practice?”

  “Sir?” I whined. Even Polimag was sounding good right now.

  Chapter 7

  SHARPENED STICKS

  Sheila cleared her throat.

  “Distance training, sir? I don’t think I’m the best choice for that.”

  Spinoza tossed Sheila a simple wooden staff. He didn’t appear to be listening.

  “Diablillo, answer me this: How does a mage kill?”

  “Kill?” Murder wasn’t exactly part of the Elliot curriculum. “Um, can’t we just suck the life out of them or something?”

  Spinoza’s jaw tensed. “We Magi are not vampires, diablillo. To kill, we must bend the elements.”

  “Huh?”

  “We cannot touch life, Dieter,” Sheila explained. “But life requires four elements to exist. Air fee
ds the breath. Water feeds the gullet. Earth builds the vessel. And fire warms the hearth.”

  “Correct, Magus Mordred. A mage cannot touch another’s Ki.”

  I scratched my head. “Then how come you can die if you cast beyond your limits?”

  “Magus Mordred.”

  Sheila nodded. “Cities are almost always built on leynodes because life naturally gathers around great sources of mana. You see, Dieter, while life attracts mana, mana also attracts the life. The two need each other to survive.”

  “So you’re saying that if I expend all the mana swirling around my Ki…”

  “Then your Ki will go looking for mana elsewhere. We call this process corrosion. Fragments of one’s Ki are stripped off and drawn to the nearest pool of mana. A healthy Ki can survive quite a bit of corrosion, but if enough of it flakes away…”

  “Your life will wilt like a flower in the midday heat,” Spinoza concluded. “This is the danger of casting beyond the limits of your own mana.”

  “But what if you were to spend all your mana really fast. Would your Ki just sit there and take it?”

  Spinoza turned to Sheila and smiled.

  “This is why I like this one…he thinks dangerously, yes?”

  Sheila didn’t look as pleased.

  “Diablillo, if one were to spend all of one’s mana quickly enough, another phenomenon occurs. The energy housed inside the Ki—the very life of the person—bursts outward in one sudden wave.”

  “Would it cause an explosion?” I swallowed. That sounds just like what happened to Tyrone…

  “If unsculpted. But there are ways of guiding the release.”

  Sheila looked like she’d had enough.

  “Sir, you’re talking about death curses. Those are illegal.”

  “Yet rarely prosecuted,” Spinoza said with a smirk. “But we are getting off topic. What is crucial—what you must never forget—is that a mage cannot kill a man with mana alone. Mana must be transmuted into an element to do any proper damage. But here we encounter an interesting quandary. There are four major elements: air, fire, earth, and water. Air is wet but hot, fire is hot but dry, earth is dry but cold, and water is cold but wet. Each mage has a strong preference for one element, a weak preference for a second, is neutral to a third, and is opposed by a fourth.”

  “That sounds like Pokémon.”

  “Of course it does,” Sheila said. “The Japanese Shintoists were in complete agreement with the European alchemists, as were the Greeks, and the Babylonians, and the Buddhists, and the Hindus. Where do you think Pokémon got the idea from?”

  “So we’ve just gotta catch them all?”

  Spinoza smiled. “Exactly, Diablillo. Magus Mordred, cast air, fire, earth, and water spells in succession. Magus Resnick, counter everything Sheila throws at you.”

  “I officially hate you,” I grumbled.

  “But I’m training to be a cataphract,” Sheila said. “I’m not very good at long distance—”

  “I’m well aware of your deficits, Magus Mordred. That is why I handed you a staff. Now get to it.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, her broad shoulders sagging.

  Looking rather displeased, Sheila pointed the tip of her staff at my torso.

  “Why does the knight get to use a stick?” I asked.

  “To aim.”

  “To aim? You mean a staff makes it easier?” I frowned. “Jules never let me use a stick. Why didn’t Jules let me use a stick?”

  “Because ya suck bad enough, ya focker!” Jules shouted from the cots.

  “Firing!” Sheila announced.

  My Sight flared, and a gust of wind surged toward my midsection. Without even thinking, I threw up a hasty extraction field and discharged the mana I recovered into the ground.

  “Wow,” I said gasping. “That was really fast, Sheila. I barely had time to get my hand up.”

  Spinoza was giving me the oddest look.

  “Diablillo, I asked you to counter Magus Mordred’s cast. Why did you extract the mana from it instead?”

  “Because extractions are easier.” Duh.

  “Easier?” Spinoza extended his hand. “Try this.”

  What looked like a glob of molten lead formed in Spinoza’s hand.

  “Penetrus!”

  The lead glob surged toward me at an incredible pace, but I had my hand out and at the ready. I caught the slug in another extraction field and it slowed down to a crawl.

  “Fascinating…” Spinoza headed off across the flat cement slab, Sheila and I trailing after him. He led us past a quizzical looking Jules and Dante, straight into the men’s bathroom. “Get under the spigot.”

  “Sir?” I asked. He’d only turned on the cold water.

  “Don’t think. Just get under the flow and extract it.”

  Despite the chill, I forced myself under the ice-cold water and threw up another field. My first attempt failed, so I turned to my Sight. There was energy there—I could Sight it just fine—but I couldn’t sort out the extraction. It was like trying to gather up packing peanuts while wearing thick winter gloves.

  “I can’t,” I said finally.

  Spinoza switched the water to hot.

  “Now try again,” he ordered.

  Grateful for the warmth, I fired up my Sight again. The change was like night and day. I opened my field and sucked in the warmth. Mana surged into me—but the water kept coming. And now the water was cold as ice. I’d only managed to take the heat out of it.

  Spinoza turned off the water and tossed me a towel.

  “Theories, Magus Mordred?”

  Sheila spun her staff like a top on the cold grey tiles. “Dieter has the best extraction ability I’ve ever seen, but the talent is still limited to three elements.” Catching the staff as it fell, she pointed it at my face and gave me a warm gust of air.

  “Thanks,” I said, teeth chattering. “But what does that mean?”

  “That we just discovered your opposing element. Like Alguacil Spinoza said before, each mage has a strong, weak, neutral, and opposing element. We can both attack and defend using our strong element, defend with our weak, repel our neutral, but are overcome by our opposing.”

  “So I should avoid ice cubes at all costs?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hey, Shiela, so that makes me like a fire mage, right? Is that super rare and awesome?”

  Sheila shook her head. “Fire is the most common.”

  “Oh.”

  “Common does not mean bad, diablillo. A fire-wind preference is ideal for combat…and forest fires.”

  “Hey, that wasn’t on purpose.”

  “One wonders,” Spinoza replied. “So, Mordred, what is the best way to kill this boy?”

  “He blocked your slug. That means he must be neutral to earth. But he was purely opposed by water. He couldn’t even deflect the flow.” Sheila strummed her chin in thought. “Neutral to earth and opposed by water…thus, Dieter’s defense would be weakest to an attack with ice.”

  “Correct,” Spinoza replied. “Ice is the fusion of strong water with weak earth. It is also the least common offensive style. I don’t even know who we could use to train him.”

  “So I’ve got this thing the bag?” I headed towards the door. “If you need me, I’ll be on my cot.”

  “No, diablillo, your reliance on extraction fields is almost as unacceptable as Ms. Mordred’s refusal to integrate her weak element into her air spells.”

  “But—“ Sheila began.

  “Yes, yes, you wish to become a cataphract, you have no need for offensive spells, you need but some hard forged steel and armor…but what has this attitude gotten you? Nothing but a firm crack on the head. The two of you have trained the opposite ends of the same strengths. Now you will mend one another.”

  “Wait, so what you’re saying is you want me to teach Sheila how to set me on fire?”

  Spinoza grinned. “Exactly, Diablillo.”

  Chapter 8

  KING LEER
<
br />   Time passes quickly when a six-foot tall cataphract in training is firebombing the hell out of you. By the time I limped out of Central’s basement, the sun had already slid over the horizon. I had six more weeks of this to look forward to…and then we had to start fighting for real. Stars above, what a mess. I brushed out a few singed hairs. At least Sheila’s terrible aim had saved me a haircut.

  Exiting Central’s big double doors, I found the entire campus abuzz. Since the dorms had been destroyed, students had been sleeping anywhere they could find heat. Classrooms, hallways, and broom closets were all fair game. The faculty didn’t dare let them off campus. With Talmax thugs roving the countryside, they’d decided it was time to hit the mattresses. The students had made the most of it. They were building mattress forts everywhere.

  Outside of Central, dump trucks were carting off the remains of the dorms. The process was going to take weeks. Rebuilding the dorms, perhaps a year or more. Floodlights blared down on the workers assembling large white tents on Elliot’s lawn. They’d serve as semi-temporary replacements. Watching all the action was fun, but a full five hours of drills had left me starving. I headed over to the cafeteria for a hot meal and some coffee.

  At Elliot, we eat lunch in the late afternoon and dinner around 10:30. Magic doesn’t mix well with daylight, so our entire schedule is shifted nightward. I got to the cafeteria a little early, so they only had out the cold stuff. (Not that I was complaining. Free food was free food.) I slapped together some PB and J’s, grabbed two cups of pudding, and poured myself a cup of the crappy cafeteria coffee. Then, dodging all the sleeping bags strewn across floor, I made my way to one of the burgundy booths by the window. I didn’t eat in the cafeteria that often. Jules had me on a strict training schedule. We usually grabbed dinner on the go and ate it as we walked into the woods. But since visiting New Haven, Jules had been giving me the cold shoulder. She hadn’t even watched Sheila and I train. She just sat over there on the cots reading magic crud. What made this spat so special was beyond me. We were basically arguing all the time. I was still mulling that over when two large shadows fell over my booth.