Magic Without Mercy by Devon Monk Page A

except the caster, so Shame can get to it when we need to.”
    “Not that it’s going to prove a damn thing.” Shame wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He flipped up his coat collar to cover his neck and stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching as if the room had suddenly frozen over.
    “We might be wrong, you know,” he said. “That smoke and tar in the well might just be a temporary muddying up because of the cisterns being fouled.”
    “Which is why we need a sample from each well,” I said. “Shame, can you send a message to your mom? Tell her we need a sample from the Blood well if she can get it. And Victor too. Ask if he can get a sample from the Faith well.”
    “How many of the damn things do you intend to dip into, Beckstrom?” he asked.
    “All of them should do it.”
    “Do what, exactly?” Shame asked. “Besides get us caught or killed?”
    “Dad said the combination of magic from each well might be enough to help us find an antidote to the poison, or a way to cleanse magic.”
    “And who are we going to take this antidote to once we prove our theory?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    “You don’t know yet.”
    “You’re the one who doesn’t like planning too far ahead. Just tell your mom and Victor. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
    I turned to Zay. “Can you close the well?”
    I hated asking him, but I couldn’t use magic, so I was out. Shame had just handled three large spells in a really short space of time right on the heels of a fight. He was currently rocking a hell of a fever from that last spell.
    Maybe it would be better to ask Shame to do it since he hadn’t just dragged himself back from the edge of insanity.
    Shame tapped the bracelet at his wrist, though I noticed he was shivering. “Sure, ask the crazy guy,” he said. “This ought to be interesting.”
    Zayvion didn’t say anything. He simply drew a Disbursement, a short hard pain that snapped a thick black line down his spine. Zay stepped forward to the edge of the well and drew a Lock spell.
    The glyph for Lock hovered in front of him, stretched to touch the ceiling and all four walls. Then it speared straight down into the well.
    Zayvion threw his arms wide, then pulled his hands together, palm to palm. He said one word and the Lock spell set lines of bronze fire through the floor under our feet. The wood rolled and spiraled like gears flowing in oil. Magic, stone, and wood closed over the well.
    The floor was just a floor again. Locked tight.
    In the sudden un-magicness of the room, things seemed too quiet. “I think we should be going,” I said.
    “I’ve been saying that for an hour,” Shame said, “and you get twitchy only now?”
    We started across the floor, Stone trotting along behind, then ahead of us. Shame opened the door for him.
    “Did you contact the others?” I asked.
    “Yes. But that’s not going to do us a lot of good if we don’t know where to meet.”
    Stone sniffed at the bottom step of the staircase back up to the outer world, then took off up it, half climbing,half winging and clawing. If anyone was coming down those stairs, they were about to get a face full of gargoyle.
    We started up after him, listening for sounds of people above.
    I thought through possibilities of where we could meet up. The den was out. Not only did the Authority know that I owned it, but so did everyone else, including the police. We could return to Shame’s place, but after that Gate Roman opened I was pretty sure it would be under observation, or wrapped in yellow tape by now. Not Maeve’s place at the inn, not Zay’s place, not my place. Maybe Grant’s under Get Mugged. No, I’d already used him as a cover once. Twice felt like pushing it.
    Collins,
Dad suggested.
    There’s someone I wasn’t sure could be trusted. Sure, I’d hired him to take care of Davy after Davy had been bitten and infected. I knew Collins had no love for the Authority, for how they had Closed him, and nearly