Night Magic (33 page)

Senior gave Kemble a penetrating look and a tight smile as he stood aside. Maggie and Tristram stepped up to the front of the party. They were the first line of defense. Maggie was getting a lot better at pinpointing her
Calm. He hoped she wasn’t too nervous tonight to be precise. Otherwise she’d put the Tremaines to sleep, as well as any guards they encountered. Tristram he wasn’t worried about. Pulling power out of the earth was second nature to him now and he could target metal pretty easily. The family had left all metal behind them, except for Kemble’s little tablet, just in case. No belt buckles, no jewelry, no watches.

Kemble
fell in behind Senior and his mother. Keelan and Devin brought up the rear. The echo of their footsteps on the cement floor was disconcerting, even though they’d all worn soft-soled shoes. The corridor was lighted only by occasional dim work lights encased in metal cages. They wound their way through the museum’s underbelly. The stark, institutional rooms that opened off the corridor, where exhibits were prepared and records were kept, were a stark contrast to the opulent grandeur of the public rooms.

Tristram paused in front of the d
oorway they knew from the plans led into the display galleries and looked back over the crew to make sure they were ready. They had decided to skip the lobby entirely. Nods spread around the seven in the group. But Kemble held up a hand. He pointed to the keypad next to the door. Tristram backed up and let him pass. Kemble touched it, felt the door release and then faded back, nodding to Tristram.

His brother took a deep breath and pushed into the
first gallery.

*****

Jesse was having none of going back to sleep. He was full of a five-year-old’s questions about where his parents were and what they were doing and when they were coming back and why he couldn’t get up and play, and why he was staying in Devin’s room instead of in his own bed. Since his fretfulness was an echo of her own, Jane’s nerves were rubbed raw. She was just wondering whether she should have her tubes tied, just to make sure she never had a child of her own, when Jesse decided he was going to get up to play. Jane was too tired to resist. At least this way she could join the others in the vigil going on in the living room.

He prattled on about his Delta Ranger action figure that was just like Uncle
Michael, as he rummaged in the backpack his mother had packed for his overnight. Turned out Delta Rangers can beat cars that turn into robots when the chips were down.

They stomped through the foyer and into the living room. There was no
music, which actually seemed odd at the Breakers. Lanyon must be too on edge to play. Michael was playing old-fashioned solitaire, the kind with physical cards. Tammy was brushing Lancelot. That dog seemed to have enough spare black fur to make a Schipperke. As Jane walked Jesse down the two steps into the living room, Drew came in from the kitchen with a tray of coffee and cups.

“
Hey,” Michael said, looking up. “Couldn’t stay away?”

“
Jesse’s having trouble sleeping.” Jane rolled her eyes to indicate how much of an understatement that was.

“
Hi, Aunt Drew,” Jesse said, zeroing in on the most likely source of his favorite beverage. “You got any chocolate?”

Drew started a smile as she leaned over to place the tray on the coffee table. Then her face crumpled. The tray crashed the last few inches to the coffee table. Drew’s eyes went unfocused, but her look of horror, combined with her shriek, had everyone on their feet.

Michael was over to her in a second, holding her shoulders.

She shook her head convulsively, struggling with the vision that obviously had her in its grip. Her low moan finally brought her out of the trance.

“What is it?” Michael asked, his face a mask of concern.

“
I saw who was in the hospital bed,” Drew said, her voice anguished.

Then she fainted in Michael’s arms.

*****

Just inside the doorway of
first gallery, bathed in red from the lasers of the security system, the Tremaine expedition encountered the first guard. The man wheeled in surprise. An exclamation died on his lips and was replaced by a loopy grin only too familiar to Kemble. That was how people felt when Maggie doused them with Calm. Things were great, except for the fact that they felt tired. Very, very tired.

Tristram caught the guard under his arms as he collapsed and
leaned him up against the wall, outside the lines of red laser light. They looked like a collection of pick-up sticks crossing and re-crossing the room between the display cases. Tristram relieved the guard of his gun and spun it over into a corner, far enough away from the man to ensure he wouldn’t be hurt. Then Tristram took a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the gun began first to smoke then turn a dull red. By the time he looked away, all that was left of the weapon was a slagheap and a charred circle on the marble floor.

“
Good job,” Senior whispered. Kemble’s mother smiled at Tristram.

The next hurdle was t
he lasers that lanced across the room from several centrally located hubs in the ceiling and touched each display case. Kemble would have to take them out gallery by gallery so as not alert guards all over the museum that something was wrong. He held his tablet with one hand and touched the screen with the other. Before he could even type in any code, the feeling of sinking through the screen enveloped him. He staggered. Then there were hands, holding him up, strong, steady. He made a conscious decision not to focus on that, though. Instead he reached out along a path familiar to him from this morning. He wound down through code corridors into Knight, Inc. And there was the code he needed. He reached out in his mind and touched it. He felt the lasers shut off. He flipped off the lights in the display cases too.

Dimly he heard gasps around him. He opened his eyes. Senior and Devin had him by each arm, holding him up. The gallery was shrouded in darkness. Only the exit lights, glowing greenly, and small lights by the base of the doorways showed them their way.
Several small flashlights popped on. The family had prepared for this.

Kemble straightened up.

“You okay?” Senior whispered.

His mother put her hand on his arm. He felt her sending strength his way.

He nodded.

“
Pretty impressive, bro,” Devin grinned. “I didn’t even see you typing any code.”

Kemble glanced to his father, only to see his thoughtful frown in the dim light. His mother’s eyes were gleaming. They knew. Senior pointed to the north archway.
“Tristram, yours is the only flashlight. Everybody else, follow him.” The other small circles of light popped off.

Their destination was three galleries over. They were just seven shadows moving through the silence behind the small circle of light from Tristram’s flash
dancing on the floor. They encountered two more sets of guards, these traveling in pairs. Didn’t matter. Two guards at once were no match for Maggie. For such a little thing with such an odd power, she was an extremely effective weapon. Best of all, the guards would awake in an hour or two none the worse for wear. The Tremaines left several piles of molten metal in their wake. Somebody would have trouble explaining those to the police when the theft was discovered. Kemble only hoped the family was long gone by the time that happened.

At the entrance to the third gallery, Kemble shut down the lasers, feeling slightly queasy. Keelan slipped up into the crowd of Tremaines.
“Just keep breathing,” she advised everyone. “It feels a little overwhelming, but you get used to it. Devin and I were much better last night than we were with the Wand.”

“
In that case, why don’t you two lead?” Senior said to Kee and Devin. The two newlyweds looked both proud and serious at once. At last the family stood in front of the case that held the Chalice of Charlemagne. Tristram ran his flashlight around the case. The goblet gleamed. Its intricate carving cast shadows on the surface of the gold. The cabochon stones, red, green, blue, seemed to have stars winking in them. It was a beautiful piece, worthy of its status.

Kemble’s
stomach was turning summersaults and his breathing was shallow and gaspy. If he’d needed any confirmation of his situation, that was it. He was affected by the Talisman. He couldn’t help his excitement, on two fronts. They were really going to get one of the Talismans. That would go a long way to evening the score between the family and the Clan. And he had a power. The event for which he’d waited twenty years had happened almost without him realizing it. He could travel the highway of code that wound around and through the world. He could control it. Would Merlin have even recognized that as magic? Kemble almost chuckled. Merlin would think computers were themselves magic. Kemble couldn’t help but wonder if possessing a Talisman would increase the family’s powers. That might even include his now. The satisfaction that coursed through him pushed out the niggling problem of how those powers had been raised. He’d deal with that later. He had a power.

Everyone stood, staring. Maggie and his mother held their hand
s to their lips. They must be feeling its power. Senior pressed his lips into a line. That was about as much an admission of vulnerability as Kemble’s father would ever give.

“
How do we get it out?” Devin asked. The kid was always the practical one.

“
We just lift the glass. The alarms are all off,” Kemble whispered, but he didn’t move to do it. It was up to Senior to declare who would have the honor of doing the deed. They all looked to their father.

Senior nodded to Devin. Yeah. Good choice. The kid had nea
rly made the ultimate sacrifice while trying to get a Talisman for his adopted family. That effort had failed. But no one could fault Devin. It should be his honor to claim this one.

Devin took a deep breath and put a palm on each side of the small cube of glass. It was about eighteen inches high by about twelve inches square. He lifted. No alarm. No death ray. Thank God. The glass just came up off the pedestal. Kee
lan lifted the goblet with two hands, reverently. You couldn’t help but feel reverent around an object that was so overwhelming in its power. Devin set the glass down.

Kee
lan turned and handed the goblet to Senior. “You should take it out, Father.”

Senior nodded and took the goblet and the responsibility that went with it. Who was
more fit to wield a Talisman than Brian Tremaine? “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

Tristram and Maggie led the way again, Tris
tram’s flashlight wobbling over the marble floor. Back they trooped into the next gallery, as quickly and quietly as they could.

Tristram stopped so suddenly they all almost ran into him. In the beam of his light there were the bodies of two guards, their necks twisted at odd angles.

“What the fuck is this?” Tristram said, forgetting to whisper and to clean up his language in front of his mother.

The overhead lights in the gallery flipped on, nearly blinding them.

Right in the middle of the room, an empty space near the viewing benches filled with people materializing out of nothing.

“
Morgan,” Keelan breathed.

A tall woman, maybe fifty and dressed in a long
red cloak, stood in front of a group of others. She had yellow eyes. Kemble had heard the description. Morgan Le Fay. She held a long staff. It was silver, intricately carved with what looked like dragons wound around it. The emeralds that served as their eyes gleamed balefully. The Wand. Its power cascaded over them, magnifying the power of the Cup Senior held. The others behind Morgan were steely-eyed: a spectral man, maybe six-six, a voluptuous redhead who looked like she stepped out of a Victoria Secret catalogue, a greasy-looking geek, a hard-faced man with a buzz cut and light eyes, and several more.

Morgan pointed to Maggie.
“Phil, that one.”

“
Phil!” Maggie exclaimed. “Is that you?”

A slender guy, nondescript, hesitated, then stepped forward and made a shoving motion with both his hands.
Kemble knew that guy, though he’d only seen him from a distance. He’d felt that disembodied shove though. Maggie was lifted into the air by unseen forces and hurled into a display case. Tristram gave a guttural cry and made a dash for her. Half the Tremaines turned. His mother broke from the group to help.

“
Jason?” Morgan’s voice was calm as you please.

The light-eyed guy pulled out a nasty looking snub-nosed pistol. The crack of the gun was deafening in the big gallery. The whole thing happened so fast. Kemble didn’t know where the gun was aimed. He looked around. Everyone
was shocked, even Senior. Then his father swayed.

“
The Cup,” Morgan yelled. As Senior slumped, the Cup levitated into the air as the geeky guy pointed to it.

“
Daddy!” Kee cried, crouching. That brought his mother’s attention around. Kemble saw the look on her face as though from a great distance. He knew he would never forget that look as long as he lived. He stared down at Senior. Blood welled from the side of his head just behind the ear. He looked like he was asleep, relaxed, uncaring. Except for the spreading pool of blood. Kee was sobbing. His mother scrambled over to him and laid her hands on him.