Chapter 12 #2
“We don’t want to be within 500 miles when ?avadeva re-enters this world,” she says, matter-of-fact.
“I would expect the population of San Francisco to perish within the first hour. The necrotic effects should permeate the remainder of Northern California shortly thereafter.” She rests the ancient book down on my desk, next to the discarded burger wrappers, and rises.
“I have another penthouse in Montreal. That should keep us clear until things settle.”
She takes the few steps to the couch and removes a cell phone from her purse. Standing behind her, I see her pull up the number of her Fixed Base Operator at SFO. (Because, yes, my mom actually owns her own private jet.)
“Wait, what about calling the Feds or something?” I sputter out. “I mean, once they know what’s at stake, couldn’t they, like, send in the paranormal equivalent of Seal Team 6?”
I get another you-stupid-idiot look from her.
“Even if the United States government did have the resources and know-how to effectively fight intelligent mind-controlling vampires—something I deeply question—by the time you were able to convince them to act, this would be all over. As it stands, I’d be surprised if the ritual isn’t complete by midnight. ”
“Um, then maybe we could go to the Dragon King?”
She doesn’t even bother with a withering glance this time, just keeps tapping at her phone—but I don’t need to get spanked to know I’m grasping.
Even if there were some way to alert the royal court in time, the supernatural hierarchy considers Earth a complete backwater, almost certainly not worth the effort of saving.
And the Dragon King doesn’t exactly have a reputation for compassion.
(He’d probably just get popcorn. Or, worse, steal the watch for an even more evil purpose.)
“But you could stop it!” I protest. “I mean, you’re not scared of vampires at all.” Desperate, I lay it on a bit thick. “And you are a total badass, right?”
That at least gets me an amused snort instead of scorn, but it doesn’t change who she is.
“I will admit that I am fond of this city. But once begun, the spell can only be disrupted in one very specific and very dangerous way. And the whole time, the ritual space will be filled with toxic magic. A single misstep, and it would tear me apart.” She raises her brows at me with a pointed look.
“I have no interest in throwing away my very long life on a very long shot.”
“You mean you aren’t willing to risk your life for anyone else,” I say, sullen.
“Potato, potahto, my darling boy.” She returns to her screen and presses the button to begin her call before smoothly raising the phone to her ear.
I drop myself back into my chair, sulky, as she arranges for her Gulfstream to fly out in the next hour.
When she finishes and puts away her phone, she says, “We’ll get you a hot shower and a change of clothes on the plane.
I keep a capsule wardrobe for both of us onboard that I think you’ll find quite flattering. ”
And there it is. A convenient and even luxurious path out of the mess I made with no real consequences for me except being in more debt to my mother. A debt she doesn’t even seem all that interested in collecting at the moment. I actually get the impression this is her looking out for me.
But she just revealed there was only one way to end the ritual and it’s in that book, so I already know my answer.
“I’m not going with you, Mom.”
I expect her to chide me for being stubborn or not holding up my end of trusting her, but she seems to know exactly what I mean.
“I could make you,” she says, hard.
“No, you really couldn’t,” I reply, just as hard.
And maybe it’s the resolve in my eyes, or maybe Collin was right and she suspects I’m more than your standard incubus, but she relents and throws up her hands.
“Ay! Why do I even bother worrying about savage gods and toxic magic when it’s painfully clear my own son will be the death of me?!” But it’s not a guilt trip. Again, she seems impressed.
“How do I stop the ritual?” I ask.
She sits back down next to me, clicks her tongue against her teeth, and makes a non-committal gesture with her hand.
“Well, first of all, you would need to get back into that room.” Her stare becomes flat and dubious.
She knows I’m out of juice. “Is that something you really think you can do again?”
“Let me worry about that,” I say. I honestly have no idea how I’ll get back in without getting torn apart, but I at least want to find out what she knows. “What do I do once I’m there?”
My mother quirks an eyebrow, letting me know it’s my funeral.
“Well, I have some good news for you. If you succeed, you actually get a twofer. The way you stop the ritual is by setting the Avatar free, just like you wanted. In the early steps of summoning ?avadeva, your ‘Collin’ will be separated from the artifact so he can act as a bridge between our world and that of the gods.” She leans past me to snatch up the book and quickly flips to an earlier part.
Then she grabs a random piece of printer paper and a pen from my desk, lays the sheet on one of the pages, and quickly scrawls out a few sentences in perfect old-school cursive.
“It turns out the grimoire contains another, shorter ritual that would instead release the Avatar safely to the other side, and it starts nearly identically. With your friend already outside the bounds of the artifact, you would merely need to grasp the watch, activate your mana, and say these words.” She crisply hands me the paper.
“This incantation cuts the tethers that bind the Avatar to his prison. Say them when the moon is traversing its deepest arc below the horizon—any time between the hours of eight and ten o’clock tonight—and your vampire king will lose the bridge along with any opportunity to reach his god. ”
Huh. Casting a spell with actual words. Supposedly that’s how wizards used to do it before almost all magic was lost to the world, centuries ago. Even Stryker just uses runes…
There’s a lot I could learn from a book like this—if I could figure it out. I look at what she wrote, and she’s phonetically spelled out everything. I scan it over to see if there’s anything I’d have trouble with, but it actually seems super clear. Mom really knows her stuff.
“Of course, you’d actually need to be able to access your mana for the incantation to work,” she coos, before reaching over and sucking in a sip of my Diet Coke, lamb-eyed. “It’s not automatic like the physical boost you get from feeding. So—have you figured out how to do that yet?”
She might be unaware of the fire I conjured with Collin and its limitations, but she’s fully aware that I’ve struggled with not feeling any mana inside me, and that she has deliberately taught me nothing about how I might find it.
She also knows I’ve recently had access to the Avatar of Knowledge, which might have changed that equation. She’s clearly fishing.
Two can play at that game.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to figure that out, too,” I reply casually, folding the paper and sticking it into my windbreaker pocket. “Unless you have any insight or tips you’d like to share…”
Her eyes narrow, unpersuaded. “What I’d like is for you to get on the plane with me, so I’d know my son wasn’t a sentimental fool. I was merely pointing out the futility of your plan.”
“Thanks. Super helpful, Mom.” I grimace blandly back. “Anything else?”
She places the cup back on the desk and gives a slight shrug.
“Only the most important thing—during the ritual, the room will be flooded with toxic magic.” She draws the fingers of one hand through the air dramatically.
“The spell pulls in a section of the wall that was erected between Earth and the Hell of the Old Gods, temporarily bringing it into our reality so the ritual magic can puncture a hole. Folds of that barrier will almost completely envelop the watch, and they could extend anywhere throughout the space. You do have a singular talent to detect magic, so you might be able to avoid them. But this energy is caustic enough to deter titans—one accidental touch, and you will be completely obliterated. Your vampire king will know that and will surely find a way to use it against you.”
Awesome. So, in sum, this really is a nearly impossible task that I have pretty much no chance of completing. Yeah, that tracks with how my life works.
“You think the watch will still be in his pocket?” I ask.
“No. He’ll need to have it out for the spell, most likely placed on that silver altar you thought was a birdbath.
At that point, as far as magical rules are concerned, it won’t be ‘in his possession.’ During the ritual, you won’t actually be able to remove the artifact from the room but, technically, anyone could claim it—which means you shouldn’t have any trouble using magic on it. If you get that far.”
Well, heck. It’s a small advantage, but I’ll take it.
“Alvin, I hope you realize the only reason I’m telling you any of this is that I know you aren’t stupid or suicidal.
I expect that once you come to your senses and realize that this is beyond you, you’ll undoubtedly join me.
I am prepared to wait a short while in my plane for that to happen, but once I sense ?avadeva’s influence, I will leave you behind. ”
Well, look at that. While winding up for her threat, Mom actually said I wasn’t stupid. That’s practically like a normal parent buying their kid a new car for their graduation. I think I might tear up again.
But instead I stand and hold out my hand for a handshake. After all, this might be the last time we see each other. Our relationship might be totally messed up, but she is the only mother I’ll ever have—and she did actually help me here.
“Thanks for pep talk. Enjoy some poutine for me.”
She snorts, amused, and returns the book with the pen to the desk so she can also stand. Then she bypasses my hand, pulls me in, and, for the first time in my life, gives me a hug.
“You truly are an insufferable creature, you know that? But my world was gray and empty before you. And there are days you disappoint me less than others.” She presses her cheek against my temple, and says very quietly. “I would like to believe this will be one of those days.”
I close my eyes and squeeze back.
“I love you, too, Mom.” I say, under my breath.
She thrusts out her arms, gripping my shoulders and drinking me in, like she’s committing me to memory.
She has tears in her crease-free eyes, but they’re contained enough to not threaten her mascara.
(Because let’s not get crazy.) Still, it feels like we actually have a real moment.
Finally, my mother huffs out a rueful scowl at my existence, releases me, and strides out of Stryker’s office.
That leaves me alone to figure out how in hell I’m going to do this.
She said I needed to get there sometime between 8 and 10 p.m., and it’s just a little after 5 o’clock now, which means I only have a few hours.
Trying to access my magic has its own risks, but the real challenge will be getting close enough to that watch to say the magic words she’s given me—and getting there in one piece.
Luckily, I remember I have one last desperate card to play.
And I’m finally ready to pay its terrible price.