Siegel and Sedgwick.”
“They’re not in my pocket, Selena. I can’t just fetch them.”
She’s already ended the call.
I’m glad that Lucian went home earlier. I don’t want to have to keep waking up beside him with shitty secrets. I think about the text that I saw on his phone, but only for a second. “Bro” is something guys say because they dislike the texture of words like “sweetheart” and “beloved.” Maybe the text came from a necromancer school buddy. That would make him a necro-bro, which, now that I think about it, sounds offensive.
We take the van to Stanley Park. I can see flashes of light coming from inside the grotto of the Seneschal. The floor is made of hard-packed earth, so shoe covers don’t seem necessary at this point. Becka photographs the walls. Her blue forelock glows in the dark. Linus sorts through an already-overflowing box of bindles, all labeled, sealed, and time-stamped. Cindée, who almost never leaves the lab, is talking to Selena while holding what looks like an ancient Dutch
haakbus
. The place has been completely ravished. All the Seneschal’s beautiful and dangerous things lie scattered in piles on the ground, some broken, others angrily trying to get away. A clockwork duck walks around in circles, as if building up steam. As I watch in fascination, it shakes itself, then deposits a lump of metal close to my shoe.
I walk over to Selena and Cindée. “Where is the body?”
“In the bedroom,” Selena says. “Cindée, put that down.”
“It’s got a lovely firing mechanism.”
“It’s old and loaded. Put it down.”
“Fine.”
Derrick raises his hand. “Question. Why is Tess here?”
“That’s tricky,” Selena says. “Follow me. Don’t step on anything. He was a hoarder, and I’ve already learned once tonight that the little things are weirder and more dangerous than the big ones. Just be alert.”
We go down a narrow hallway. A spider crawls across the wall, and I wonder if it’s real or mechanical. There’s a spinning box on the floor. I gingerly step around it.
Hellraiser
taught me that pointy boxes are just bad news. The bedroom is little more than a cell with a stone slab. When I see the body, I can’t help but think of the legend of the phoenix, who gathers the kindling for her own pyre. What was once the Seneschal, an avian demon, is now a calcined nexus of bones and charred cloth. The smell is overwhelming. We pass around the Vicks bottle in silence.
“Is the stone actually burnt?” I ask finally.
“Oh, yes. It’s melted in places.” Selena turns to me. “The body isn’t what I needed to show you. Look up.”
“No. Not again—please let it just be the friendly giant this time.”
“Just look up.”
I do. My name is on the air,
Corday
, written in smoke.It drifts around the uppermost part of the cavern like a dazed moth.
“Is that Polybius magic?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Then why didn’t you call Lucian?” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. I feel the need to come to the defense of my boyfriend, despite the fact that I know he doesn’t actually work for us.
Selena gives me a look. “Necromancers aren’t the only ones who know smoke magic. And I’m sure the Seventh Solium has enough fallout to deal with. Right now, what concerns me, Tess, is that your bloody name is hanging over us. Why would someone just leave your name here?”
“How should I know?” I feel myself growing defensive. “There are loads of Cordays in the BC Yellow Pages.”
“That’s pretty weak.”
I sigh. “You’re right. What does this mean, exactly?”
“It means that we’ll need to interview both you and your mother.”
“I hardly see what she has to do with this.”
“Maybe nothing. But she’s a Corday. She has to come in.”
“This is ridiculous. More so than usual.”
“You know,” Miles says. “There might be a way to tell where the smoke magic came from. I can ask the room.”
Derrick
Yenthu Wentz
Aneesa Price
Suzanne Weyn
Mary Marks
Craig Johnson
Patrice Michelle
Kate McMullan
Sherryl Woods
Steven Savile
Hallie Swanson