The magic mirror the eve.., p.13
The Magic Mirror (The Evermores Chronicles Book 7), page 13
Enfield and Winslow stood in front of the containment unit that held the Source. The two of them were glowing with all the power they’d been able to absorb and clearly couldn’t take any more. Instead, they fought with staffs, battering at the bugs as they approached, crushing them against the walls and floor. Enfield’s movements were awkward as he struggled to keep his balance while fighting, and he winced whenever he had to stretch out.
Some of the bugs had got past Enfield and Winslow. These had clustered around the containment unit. Instead of the frantic movement they showed when fighting, they were gathered in one place and slowly pressing against the magical field, a growing number of them adding their weight and magic. The field sparked and wobbled, and it was bending in. The Source watched, hands clutched together.
“Fran, the containment unit,” Winslow called. “You have to get them away from it.”
Fran ran that way. As she approached, Enfield took a step sideways, and his injured leg gave out under him. He fell to one knee, his staff clattered against the stone floor, and the bugs swarmed in upon him.
Still swinging her pickax, Fran lunged to the rescue. She swept half the bugs away with a single sweep of her weapon, then started grabbing the others. As she touched each one, she opened the paths of magic wide, and power raced up her arm. It was too hard, too fast, too uncontrolled, and each surge was a jolt that ached and threatened to throw her from her feet, but she kept going. She couldn’t let them overwhelm her friend.
Enfield brought his other leg around so he was on both knees. His staff was too long and unwieldy to fight with while he was down, but he took it in both hands and gritted his teeth as he strained. There was a splintering crack, and he held two halves of the staff, wielding them like clubs. He knocked one bug out of the air and crushed another against the ground.
“Winslow’s right,” he said. “You’ve got to get them away from the Source before they breach its containment.”
Fran took a swift stride past, right up to the unit, a perfect magical step that brought her exactly where she needed to be. She swung her pickax through the bugs crowded against it. The blow knocked some away, but others from behind pressed in to take their place. The pressure against the wavering magical field was relentless.
Fran dropped her pickax, which clanged against the ground, and turned to face the chamber's back wall. She raised her hands and unleashed all the power she’d absorbed. A torrent of light and sound poured from her. It hammered the wall, the light scorching the stone while the sound shook it. Sections of solid rock that had stood that way for decades, if not centuries, fell to the ground with a crash. She kept pouring out the power until there was none left in her, and it burned on the way out. Her arms hung limp as she turned back to the containment unit.
The Source was looking at her, as were the buzz bugs that had pressed against the containment field. Fran swung her aching arms around, grabbing as many of those bugs as possible. Their light and sound flowed into her, replacing the power she’d flung away, and each one burst as she took its power. Within moments, half of them were gone, and the rest tried to scatter. Fran grabbed them, catching as many as possible, draining their magical energy. A few got clear, only to be struck down by Enfield and Winslow.
At last, the room went quiet. Fran and the other two Evermores stood catching their breath, the three of them glowing almost as brightly as the Source.
“Well done, Fran,” Winslow said. “That was smart thinking. Although we might need to shore that wall up now if we don’t want to abandon this room.”
Fran sank to the floor. She felt exhausted and energized at the same time, her muscles weary while her nerves tingled with magical power. Her brain was buzzing too, partly with power, partly with worries about what was happening here.
She looked at the Source. It pressed its hands against the containment field as it stared at the damaged wall, then at Fran. It slammed a fist against the field, where the buzz bugs had been trying to get through.
“Do you think these bugs have something to do with him?” Fran asked.
“Perhaps.” Winslow stroked his chin.
“Of course.” Enfield put his head in his hands. “It’s so obvious once you say it.”
“It is?” Fran asked.
“Of course. Of all the people here, I should have worked it out by now.” Enfield slapped his hand hard against his damaged thigh.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had a lot of distraction, with recovery and everything.”
“Exactly!” Enfield hobbled across the room to fetch his walking stick from where it rested against the cluttered workbench. “I’m the one closest to the Source, not only in how much time I spend around him but in how we’re living. I feel so frustrated, unable to do the things I used to, my freedom to run forever gone, trapped in a shrunken world by this.” He tapped the stick against his injured leg. “Now imagine how he feels, trapped in there.”
“This is hardly a revelation,” Winslow said. “We have always known that this creature’s instinct is to break free. To call it frustrated is to state the obvious.”
“We’ve never thought through the implications of that frustration.” Enfield pointed at the workbench. “Look at this, all the work I’ve put into a single project as a way to deal with my situation and vent my frustrations. I’ve been walking too and started doing exercises that don’t need my leg. You should hear some of the arguments over stupid little things that I’ve gotten into with Taldiss when even that wasn’t enough venting. It’s a good thing she’s got a thick skin and knows not to take it personally, at least until I come back and apologize.”
He sighed and pointed at the Source with his walking stick.
“He doesn’t have the outlets I do to vent his frustrations. His power is as well-contained as anyone can manage here. Fran and her team did great work, but it could never be the same as his old prison, which we refined over millennia. As his frustration builds, so does the unvented energy, and it’s spilling out as these buzz bugs.”
Winslow looked from Enfield to the Source. He drummed his fingers against his upper leg. “It’s certainly a theory. Do you have proof?”
“He’s a creature of pure energy,” Fran said. “So are the buzz bugs.”
“There are other energy creatures in the world.”
“Ones who tried to get him out of there at the first chance they got? Ones that are trying to break the cause of his frustration?”
Winslow nodded slowly. “You’re right. This goes to prove what I’ve been saying all along. We need to get this creature back to proper containment, where we safely held it for twenty-six thousand years. Holding it like this isn’t enough. It’s time to end your little experiments and get to the inevitable. I’m sure you can both see that now.”
He looked at them with a calm, steady gaze. This was the old Winslow, back in control, and Fran wondered if he must be right.
“No.” Enfield stamped with his injured leg. “This proves how inhumane we’ve been, locking him up for thousands of years until he’s so frustrated that it’s manifesting in the world, his hurt emerging as buzz bugs, coming to hurt us for hurting him. This has to end. We have to let him go.”
“You would take the creature that attacked us like this and let him go to wreak more havoc who knows where?”
“I would free a prisoner who has committed no crime.”
“He just attacked us!”
“We locked him up!”
“Guys!” Fran held up her hands. “Please, stop, take a breath.”
She looked at the Source. It was pressed against the energy field, fingers running down the power that caged it.
“We’re doing our best,” she said, addressing it directly. “Once we can empower the Earth’s magic another way, we’ll let you go. People like Winslow will have no excuse to go hunting you then.”
“No excuse?” Winslow flung his hands in the air. “You’re talking about undoing the world we’ve spent twenty-six thousand years protecting.”
“Good,” Fran said, and behind her, a chunk of the broken rock wall crashed to the ground. “The world shouldn’t be like that anymore, running on one magical’s stolen power. We can’t hold him much longer, so we’ll work faster than ever on the technology. We’ll finish making the generator. We’ll re-empower the Earth, and we’ll let him go. All of this can end.” She glared at Winslow. “You can’t stand against us once we’ve proved that we’re right.”
“I won’t need to. You are both so clearly, utterly wrong.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Josie sat in her office, going over a piece of analysis Ted had done on skills they needed to improve their department and a list of the people working under her. Now that their projects were under control, she wanted to give her staff some time away from their regular work, a chance to grow and develop.
The change would be good. It would prove that the pressure was off, and by improving their skill base, it would mean they could avoid facing that sort of pressure again. Better management, better design, and better relationships within the team—some training and practice could help with all of those things.
She’d always loved working with spells as practical tools, experimenting with how they worked, deconstructing them to see what else she could do with their parts or refine them to work better. While she’d been in the thick of managing unhappy people amid the tensions caused by Howard Phillips’ leadership, she’d missed that technical work. She’d occasionally wondered if she should go back to it.
Now she realized that she could get the same satisfaction from deconstructing an organization like her department, working out what else she could do with its component people, and how they could refine themselves to achieve even more. What she’d needed hadn’t been different work. It had been the time to do her job properly.
There was a tapping. Debby stood in the open door, looking sheepish.
“Are you okay?” Josie asked.
“Oh yeah, fine. I wanted to talk to you about, um… Recruiting testers for the new Manaphone apps?”
“We talked about that yesterday.” Josie leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow. “What’s really going on?”
Debby looked around, then walked in and closed the door behind her. “Okay, fine, I wanted to take shelter here for ten minutes. This is the best place to be if you don’t want to be part of whatever’s going on out there.”
She gestured toward the rest of the office.
“What is going on out there?” Josie asked. “What’s so disconcerting that you don’t want to be part of it?”
“Please don’t judge me for it. I’ve got nothing but respect for the man. He’s done extraordinary work. It’s just a matter of personal taste.”
“What are you talking about?” Josie was used to Debby’s chattering style of conversation. It was part of why they got on well—Debby reminded her of Fran. Sometimes it was necessary to cut through the noise.
“It’s Mr. Phillips. He’s doing one of his floor tours, going from desk to desk, asking people how they’re getting on, and I don’t want to be there for that. Sorry, I know it’s poor team spirit, I just… Just no.”
Josie made a puzzled face. She’d thought that Phillips’ appearances around the company were a good thing. Sure, she didn’t want to be near them after everything she’d seen, but most people didn’t know the truth. As far as they were concerned, this was their top boss, one of the most powerful and respected men in the world, coming to pay them personal attention. Why would anyone object to that?
On the other hand, a guy who did what she’d seen Phillips do had to be capable of other terrible things. Perhaps he’d done something to hurt Debby in the past, or perhaps he was using this image of the reformed character, the newly friendly CEO, to get away with things he shouldn’t.
“What did he do?” She emerged from behind her desk to take one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of the room, where Debby could sit as her equal, and they could chat more informally. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” Debby said. “He hasn’t done anything. I just find this new Howard Phillips a bit creepy. Maybe it’s something about the way he talks, or how he’s suddenly different from before, or the way he looks at people, I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing at all, but something about being around him creeps me out.”
“You’re sure it’s not about anything he did to you? Or something you’ve seen or heard?”
“Oh no! Sorry, I didn’t want to make this into a big thing. There really, genuinely, isn’t anything you need to deal with. It’s like when you’ve got a friend of a friend, and you’re supposed to like them, but you don’t, you know? It’s easiest to avoid him.”
“Okay.” Josie was willing to accept that, especially given her attitude toward the man. “You can hide in here.”
“Great. I’ve got something I can work on. I’ll try not to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I think I’m going to step out for a few minutes. Not avoiding you. Something else I have to do. If anyone turns up, take a message, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks, Josie.”
“No problem.”
Josie headed out cautiously into the office. She could tell where Phillips was by the slightly raised noise level as people talked to him or used his presence as an excuse to break off their work for a bit and converse with their neighbors. She wasn’t going to worry about that. A change of activity once in a while was good for concentration and the quality of work. Besides, it was Phillips she was interested in.
She peered around a corner, watching him talk to members of staff. His mannerisms didn’t seem quite right. Something in the way he held himself didn’t match the man she’d met. Yet it was familiar like she’d seen those mannerisms before.
Up until now, Josie had thought her reaction to the new, reformed Phillips was all about what she’d seen on the roof. Maybe there was something else going on, something she’d noticed, but not consciously, something that Debby had also picked up. She trusted Debby’s judgment, and now she decided to put a little more faith in her own. Something was amiss.
Phillips got up from his seat, slapped one of their lead testers on the back, and waved at the people around him before heading for the elevator. Josie followed at a distance, unsure what she was watching for but hopeful that she would recognize it when she saw it. Some gesture, some sign, some slip in the mask of friendliness and camaraderie. Something that would tell her what was wrong. This was a wizard who had summoned black magic and nightmarish beasts. It wasn’t a big jump to assume that something was wrong again.
Phillips got into an elevator. On instinct, Josie jumped out of her hiding place and ran over, sliding through the doors just before they shut.
“Josie.” Phillips smiled at her. “It’s good to see you. What floor can I get you?”
His thumb hovered over the elevator controls. The button for the top floor was already illuminated.
“All the way to the top,” Josie said. “I need to talk to Julia about something.”
“I’m not sure she’s there today. It’s the big meeting with our component suppliers.”
“I’ll check just in case, and if not, I can get Forin to find me a slot in the calendar.”
“Makes sense.” Phillips smiled and tapped his foot gently as the elevator ascended with a distant whir. “How’s your work going?”
“Great, thanks. We’ve started on some initial designs for a new weather app that will automatically generate spells depending on the conditions. So if it’s raining, it’ll summon an invisible umbrella over your head. If it’s sunny, it’ll provide a protective field against cancerous rays, and so on.”
“A very nice idea.”
“Thanks. I can’t take the credit. It came out of brainstorming in the team.”
“Don’t understate your influence. You make that team what it is. Your support, your encouragement, the space you create for them, that’s what fosters good performance.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding.
“After you,” Phillips said.
“Thanks.”
Josie approached the PA’s desk outside the CEO’s office. Forin was sitting there, typing away. He looked up as she approached.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Bullworth,” he said with a bright smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve told you before. It’s Josie.”
Phillips was walking past. Josie bent as if to adjust her shoe and covertly pulled out her wand. A whispered vocal and a twitch of the wrist were enough for a small spell that flicked a ball of scrunched-up paper out of the waste paper basket behind Forin. The paper rolled across the floor to the doorway of Phillips’ office. The door swung closed behind Phillips, but thanks to the paper, it didn’t quite click into place or lock shut.
Josie quickly stowed her wand away, straightened, and smiled at Forin.
“I saw when I was up here last week that you’ve got those good whiteboard markers,” she said. “The ones I’ve been using keep drying out in meetings. I don’t suppose you’ve got some spare that we can use for a brainstorming session this afternoon? I can order more to replace them, of course.”
“No problem.” Forin got out of his seat. “I keep some in the closet around the corner. Back in a moment.”
As soon as he was out of sight, Josie went over to the door and listened. There was movement inside the CEO’s office. She hesitated, one hand on the door handle. What was she planning on doing once she was inside? What could she say to justify the intrusion? She wasn’t even sure. She just felt in her magic that something was amiss.
She nudged the door open, kicked the paper aside, and stepped through. The door shut properly behind her, with a click as a lock slid into place and a trace of magic as security spells kicked in.
