Cracks in Reality (Seams in Reality Book 2) (15 page)

"Definitely," Charley said.

Tonya clenched her fists and faced the homunculus. "Be gone you foul abomination!"

She marched forward. Mike made a moaning noise which sounded like timbers creaking, and he backed away from her. She chased after it.

"But I just want love!" he whined.

"Love this!"

Tonya reared back and punched the monster in the mouth. It inflated like a balloon. Charley glimpsed confusion on its make-believe face before it popped silently and vanished. There was nothing left.

"Interesting technique," Charley said.

"Physical gestures help me reach peak power," Tonya said.

"You killed it so quickly."

"I've had plenty of practice, unfortunately."

The sound of footsteps made Charley look down the hall. Andrew came around a corner and ran up to them.

"Tonya!" he said. "Thank God you're here! Charley, are you OK?"

He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

"Yes," Tonya said, "barely. Where were you?"

"I was guarding the seam. I came as quick as I could when I realized what was happening."

"We thought the homunculus was just another sorcerer," Charley explained in an apologetic tone.

Andrew helped her to her feet. Her legs weren't strong enough to support her weight, so she clung to Andrew. He held her tightly by the waist.

"That's not a satisfactory answer," Tonya said. "I ordered you to stay together."

Dan, Tungsten, and Runic were lying on the filthy floor of the hallway. Their eyes were closed, but they were breathing. Tonya leaned down and checked the agents' condition.

"They'll recover," she said, "but they'll be weak. Of course, all this could've been avoided if Andrew had been here."

"I thought..." Andrew said.

"You thought wrong!" Tonya barked at him. "What if Blake had been here instead of a mere homunculus?" She shook her head. "Until this mission is done, you're an inseparable team. Am I clear?"

Andrew and Charley nodded solemnly.

"It's not his fault," she said softly. "It was my idea to split up."

Tonya glared at Charley, and she wilted.

Tungsten moaned and opened his eyes. "I feel like I got hit by a truck," he muttered. "What was that thing?"

"A dream to some," Tonya said, "a nightmare to others. Don't worry. It's gone now."

Dan and Runic also woke up. They sat against the wall but were too weak to stand.

"Are there any other threats?" Dan said.

"Not that I'm aware of," Tonya said.

"Good." His head sagged. "I could really use a strong cup of coffee or twelve hours of sleep. I think I almost died. Was there any way we could've protected ourselves?"

"No."

Runic took out his phone and called his two colleagues who were still waiting by the car. He requested more agents and at least two ambulances.

"As long as I'm here," Tonya said, "I might as well examine the scene of the crime."

She and her two apprentices found their way back to Vivian's seam.

Vivian was still unresponsive. Charley felt bad for the woman, but she only had herself to blame.

Tonya knelt down, put her hand on Vivian's head, and closed her eyes. Nobody spoke for a moment.

Finally, Tonya stood up. "I assume this is your work, Andrew."

Andrew nodded. "She attacked me first. In fact, she tried to get me twice."

"Well, there's no point in having her stand trial now. This is worse than any prison sentence."

"Will she get better?"

"Maybe," Tonya said. "You broke things that don't heal easily. You really should be a little more careful. Maybe Keene can help her, if he's willing. He specializes in fixing fractured minds."

She walked around the room and stopped in front of the sketch pad. She lifted the pages one at a time, revealing beautiful works of art. There was an exquisitely detailed sketch of a honeybee on a flower. A darker image was a self-portrait of Vivian hanging from a gallows.

"So talented." Tonya sighed deeply. "What a waste. There are so few sorcerers in the world, and yet, we insist on destroying ourselves in the stupidest ways. There is a reason the BPI doesn't trust us."

Charley noticed Andrew had a distant expression.

"What are you thinking?" she said.

He furrowed his brow. "If we worked together more, our odds of survival would be better."

Tonya snorted. "Good luck. Sorcerers have been stubbornly independent for thousands of years."

"That doesn't mean we should give up."

"I suppose you're right. One must maintain a positive attitude despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary."

"Are we done here?" Andrew said. "Did we pass our final exam?"

Tonya looked at Vivian. "I wouldn't give you an 'A+,' but yes, you passed. Your mission to kill Blake has officially begun. You'll go to Washington and wait for orders from Director Webster. I have to return to Chicago to guard my seam. The peace and quiet will be nice."

"Come on," Charley said. "You'll miss us. Admit it."

Tonya smiled wistfully. "I suppose I will."

"What about our classes?" Andrew said.

"I'll tell your instructors your mothers have cancer."

* * *

Blake smiled with pride as he looked at Phillip. Molding the boy's mind into a mirror of Blake's own had been a lot of hard work. It had felt like building the Eiffel Tower out of toothpicks, but finally, the job was done, and none too soon. Blake needed to get back to his master plan.

"How are you feeling?" he said. "Do you still have a headache?"

Phillip was sitting comfortably on a chair in Tad's Truck Parts warehouse. Dust, food stains, and drops of dried blood marked Phillip's clothes. His brown hair was a greasy, tangled mess. He had lost a little weight in the last two weeks, but he was still in good health. He was a sturdy kid.

"I'm fine," Phillip said. "The headache is gone. I haven't hallucinated all day."

"Good. Your energy flow is stable. Any tremors?"

Phillip held up his right hand, and it was rock steady. "No."

"Create an illusion as a test."

Blake was seated facing Phillip, and a seam floated in the air between them. Blake sensed the boy's energy swell as he drew power from the seam.

Suddenly, Blake was surrounded by a steamy green jungle. Birds twittered in the trees, and bugs crawled on the ground. A snake slithered along a branch.

He looked around. "Excellent. The detail is remarkable. I couldn't have done any better myself. In fact, you did exactly as well as me."

The illusion vanished.

Blake stood up. "I think we're finally ready to go. Is there anything we need?"

He looked around the interior of the warehouse. A trash can in the corner had flies buzzing around it, and he could smell the rotting food from across the room. For the last two weeks, all the meals had been delivered and eaten on paper plates. The garbage had piled up.

Luggage was on a table, but the clothes inside were still mostly clean. Blake and Phillip had changed only a few times. Personal hygiene had taken a back seat to focusing on the longest and most complicated spell Blake had ever attempted. He had stopped only to sleep and not for more than three hours at a time. Tad's Truck Parts didn't have a shower on the premises either, and the man and the boy stank.

The Russian Eye also lay on the table. Blake hadn't needed it during the long spell because the big seam in the warehouse provided far more energy. He wasn't looking forward to depending on the tiny seam inside the jewel again once he left.

The warehouse had long shelves covered in automotive parts. Blake had put them to good use as intellectual tests for Phillip. Clusters of parts were assembled on the concrete floor like three-dimensional puzzles. Phillip had put together most of a transmission by just following written directions.

"Just the luggage," the boy said, "but we should spend a night in a local hotel before flying to Arizona. We both need to sleep in real beds and take long, hot showers before going out in public."

Blake had been thinking exactly the same thing. Being with a miniature version of himself felt a little spooky. Phillip looked like a young boy but acted like an old man. He even had the same accent and mannerisms as Blake.

Blake walked over and grabbed the suitcases. "By the way, for the record, I'm in charge of this operation. I give the orders."

"Why?" Phillip said. "We're the same person. We should have equal responsibility."

"Not quite. I created you, and that counts for something. And you're just a child. People won't take you seriously."

"Thanks to you. My big mind is stuck in this little body."

"The spell wouldn't have worked on a more mature, inflexible brain," Blake said.

Phillip frowned. "I suppose a second childhood doesn't sound too bad. As long as the operation is successful and I share equally in the rewards, I'll settle for being your lieutenant."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I need to gather up my assassins. It's time for everybody to get back to work."

Chapter Seven

Andrew stared through the scope of a sniper rifle using one eye. He was lying on his belly with his elbows on the floor, but it was still hard to hold the weapon steady. The long barrel was awkwardly heavy even from a prone position. He was aiming at a paper target at the far end of the gun range, a hundred yards away.

"Inhale and hold it," Tungsten said. "No flinching this time."

I'm trying,
Andrew thought.

He held his breath and pulled the trigger with a smooth motion. He was wearing ear protection, but the gun still sounded like a cannon exploding next to his head. The stock pounded his shoulder, layering a fresh bruise on top of others.

He recovered his composure and looked through the scope again. There was a new hole in the paper target, but it was high and right.

"Close," Andrew said.

He looked up at Tungsten. The ex-soldier was wearing a white shirt and black slacks. He stared through binoculars at the target.

"With that rifle at that distance, you should be within an inch every time. You're still flinching."

"I'm doing my best," Andrew said. "The gun is loud!"

"It's loud after you pull the trigger, not before."

"Technically, that's true."

"You're next, Charley," Tungsten said.

Andrew looked over at his girlfriend. Gun grease had smudged her green sweater. He liked what her snug jeans did to her legs and butt when she was lying down. Her sniper rifle was lighter than his but still big. She clenched her jaw anxiously.

Charley steadied her aim and fired. The recoil jerked her entire body. A spent shell casing flew over Andrew's head.

Tungsten looked through his binoculars. "Better than Andrew, but still not acceptable. Are you guys even paying attention to my instructions? I've explained the technique five times."

"It hurts to shoot this thing," she said through her teeth. "It's like getting kicked by a mule."

"Then you're not doing it right. I told you to pull hard against the shoulder before firing. Make sure the stock is wedged in tight so it can't move around." He frowned and looked back and forth between the two apprentices. "Take a break. Settle down and get your heads right. Be back here in an hour."

They eagerly got up, handed their rifles to Tungsten, and left the gun range.

Andrew and Charley walked into the rock tunnel outside the gun range. They were in the underground section of BPI headquarters.

"What do you want to do for an hour?" he said.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's too early to eat lunch."

"And the cafeteria sucks anyway. You'd think a powerful government agency could afford better food. It's almost as bad as the cafeteria back at the university."

"Let's just walk around." She rubbed her right shoulder with her left hand. "Ouch! That will be sore for days. I hate guns, especially big ones."

They walked down the tunnel. Their footsteps on the cement floor echoed off the walls. The only other sound was the ventilation system, and Andrew felt like he was in a tomb.

Other tunnels branched off of the main one. The BPI agents had let the apprentices wander on their own for the most part, and Andrew had explored much of the secret underground facility. Occasionally, a man or a woman in a blue suit would appear and turn them back. Surveillance cameras were everywhere, and Andrew expected agents were watching him constantly. He knew if he caused any trouble, he would quickly attract a crowd.

He stopped at a window with a laboratory on the other side. The oddly shaped equipment had a multitude of buttons, and he could only guess at its purpose. Scientists were performing experiments or working at computers.

"Let's go in," Andrew said.

Charley gave him a funny look. "That would be rude. They're working."

"It's got to be more interesting in there than walking back and forth in a tunnel."

She had a dubious expression.

"What's the worst that can happen?" he said. "If we're not welcome, they'll send us away. Come on."

Andrew took Charley's hand. He pulled open a door, and they went into the laboratory together.

A woman with short black hair and thick glasses turned to them. She was wearing a yellow shirt and a brown skirt. He could tell she wasn't a regular agent by her clothing.

"Can I help you?" she said.

Andrew walked over to her with a disarming smile. "Yes. We were just wondering what you're doing. This laboratory looks very interesting."

She raised one eyebrow. "And you are...?"

"Andrew Kenworthy and Charlotte Lemay."

Her eyes widened. "Oh. I heard about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"I'm Dr. Plank." Plank shook Andrew's and Charley's hands. "We study sorcery in this laboratory."

Andrew looked at a white machine shaped like a giant octopus standing high on its eight legs. A steel table was underneath.

"I don't feel any sources of energy," he said. "There is no seam. How can you study something without actually doing it?"

"We analyze samples taken in the field and perform experiments. Sometimes we study live subjects."