Chapter 4
The flight had been quiet, dark, and frustrating because the plane had been full and I’d been unable to talk things over with Benedict.
Who knew who might be listening? It hadn’t been a red-eye flight, but it was close, and the gates to the restaurants and shops were down as we made our way from the terminal to ground transport.
No one spoke, and the entire planeload of people moved at the same tired pace, roller bags making a familiar plastic-on-tile hum.
Benedict and I each had one bag, and if not for me having been requested to check my three-foot-long dross-cored staff—tucked within a case to house a fishing rod—we could have gone right to the cabstands.
“Any cabs waiting will be snapped up this time of night.” Benedict looked up from his phone as we walked. “It’s either a call-for-hire or my intern, and I don’t want to owe my intern that big a favor.” He scanned the people ahead of us. “I should have called him before we took off.”
I linked my arm in his, head dropping to thump against his shoulder as we walked step for step together. “You want to grab a cab while I wait for my stick?”
“Could do.”
There was a small knot of people at the escalator to baggage claim, and I loosened my grip on his arm so he could go first. I filed in behind, the need to talk to him growing.
My meeting with the marshal was right after the guild meeting, and it wasn’t so much the lack of sleep I was worried about as Benedict and me getting our story straight.
If the mage courts wanted my statement, they’d want Benedict’s, too.
Benedict, though, didn’t seem concerned, his back to the short wall of the escalator, fiddling with his phone as we went down.
So it was only me who saw the curly-haired, somewhat short woman in a cap and suit standing at the bottom of the stair, one hand holding what looked like my fly-fishing case, the other a tablet glowing with the words Grady and Strom.
Smiling, I nudged Benedict’s elbow.
Benedict looked up, made a pleased grunt, and closed out his phone. “Cool. Ryan, I owe you big.”
The woman’s round face beamed in a friendly smile as she noticed us and Benedict’s obvious pleasure. “She’s got my checked baggage,” I mused, not sure I appreciated that or not.
“Ms. Grady?” the woman said in a high voice as we got off the escalator, and when I nodded, she tucked the tablet in an oversize pocket inside her jacket. “I’m Beth from We Drive. Let me take that, ma’am.”
She was reaching for my roller bag and I let it go, more concerned about my stick tucked under her arm. “Did Ryan arrange this?” I asked as she somehow managed Benedict’s bag, too.
“I get the call, I show up.” She glanced at the carousel. “Do you have any more checked luggage? This came out first thing. Matched the info I had.”
From my shirt pocket, Pluck fizzed for me to not look for moon shadows in the sunlight, and I reached for my stick case before she hit it on something. “No, this is it.”
“Great! I’m right out front.” Beth turned, her pace fast in her black, no-nonsense shoes as she headed for the big glass doors, confident we would follow.
Both roller bags trundled along behind her like obedient puppies until she dragged mine right over a haze of dross.
I winced as the glittering distortion spun around on the wheel until the energy broke and sent the roller bag crashing into Benedict’s.
“Mundane,” Benedict whispered as the small, now-flustered woman righted my bag and continued on. “You’re moving up, Petra,” he added as the wide doors opened and the welcoming, warm night air whooshed in. “I love seeing you get the credit you deserve.”
“Your name was on that tablet, too,” I said, and he gave me a sideways hug. “Ryan is more interested in knowing when I get in than anything else. That, and he knew we didn’t have a ride home.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He grinned, arm in mine as if we were walking into prom.
And damn me if his arm didn’t feel nice there, even if Pluck bubbled sourly and dropped deeper into our shared thoughts.
Beth stopped at a black sedan parked illegally in the white zone, and Benedict and I scuffed to a halt as she popped the trunk. “Wow,” I said. “They let you do that?”
The woman’s gaze followed mine to the airport police ignoring us. “They do after midnight. I’ve got these. Get yourself settled. There’s water and food bars.”
Benedict lurched to get my door, his expression still soft with pride for me. “You deserve the full experience,” he said as he opened it with a flourish. It made me feel special, and I grinned as I got in, carefully putting my stick in its fishing rod caddy in the back window.
As Beth had said, there was water and a wooden box with food bars. It was too late to eat, though, and I settled into the cushy seat wondering if anything had ever felt so nice. Smiling, I checked my phone, then shot Ryan a texted thank you for the car.
Benedict’s door opened and he sighed as he got in, immediately cracking a bottle and taking a large gulp. “You want a sip?” he asked, and I shook my head.
Beth slid in behind the wheel, her head down over her tablet as she brought up her GPS. “Two drop-offs, yes?” she said as she swiped through a menu. “Ms. Grady, you’re out past the commons, and Professor Strom, you’re across town from that.”
“That sounds right.” Benedict slumped in the seat, eyes closing.
That is, until I took his hand in mine. “You can stay with me tonight if you want,” I said, and his eyebrows went high in question. “You’ll get to bed a good half hour earlier. I’ve got that meeting in the morning, though.”
He leaned across the console, our fingers still entwined.
“Go to bed, yes. Asleep, no,” he whispered, and I smiled as Pluck fizzed sourly.
“Thanks,” he said, louder this time. “I’d appreciate that.
” He leaned forward, clearly talking to the woman.
“My car is actually at Petra’s apartment.
Dropping me there would save me some time in the morning. ”
Beth’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “I usually don’t do this, but it was your idea, ma’am.”
Ma’am. She was calling me ma’am. There was no way she was younger than me. But she wasn’t moving, and I nodded that that was what I wanted to do.
“Then the commons it is,” Beth said softly as she put the car in drive.
The sedan’s suspension was like heaven, and I hardly noticed the speed bumps as we drove out from under the airport lights and into the darkness.
Benedict hadn’t let go of my hand, and he closed his eyes again, clearly tired.
“Any chance you can get that meeting shifted a couple of hours?” he asked.
“I’d like to drive you in so I can eavesdrop. ”
“On my solo meeting?” I said, and he nodded. “I doubt it. I was going to bike in, but you can meet me there if you want. Unless you want to listen in on the group meeting, too.”
“Never mind,” he said with a sigh, and I stifled a smile. Despite his leggy physique, he was not a cyclist. I’d already checked the weather forecast for tomorrow. Arizona winter mornings were perfect cycling weather, and I was eager for a little pedaling.
Beth cleared her throat, and my eyes met hers in the mirror. “You mind if I listen to my music?” she said as she worked her earbuds into place.
“Please,” I said, and she put her attention on the road, alternating between it and her tablet stuck to the dash.
My grip in Benedict’s tightened. We hadn’t been able to talk on the plane, and tomorrow morning would probably be too busy. Benedict was not a morning person. “Benny?” I gave his hand a tight squeeze.
Immediately he opened his eyes, his brow furrowed in question when he saw my worry.
Smiling, he brought my knuckles to his lips.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, gaze flicking to the driver.
“Cameron is meeting with everyone, not just you. I’m sure the courts simply want to get the facts firsthand so they can dot their i’s and cross their t’s. ”
Probably, but it was the private meeting afterward that had me worried. Not to mention if they were talking to me, they’d eventually talk to him, and I flicked a glance up at the driver. “I’m, ah, I’m going to take the blame for the inert-dross field under the auditorium.”
Benedict’s frown deepened. “I am the one who made it,” he whispered.
“You turned the escaped dross inert to save me,” I countered. “I’ll take the blame.”
“No. I turned it inert to save Pluck. A shadow. It will mean more coming from me.” He shifted, letting go of my hand to flip the console up from between us, and slid over.
Up front, Beth didn’t seem to care, fixing her gaze on the dark road when she realized we were shoulder to shoulder, our heads together like scheming preteens.
Or lovesick teenagers, I mused, and Pluck fizzed at my memories sifting through both our thoughts. “Save him, save me,” I said, confident that Beth wasn’t listening. “It’s the same thing. No, I want you out of it. I’m telling the marshal that I fixed it inert to draw in the desert shadows.”
“How?” Benedict eyed me sternly. I was sure it worked on his students, but I just stared back. “Ten years’ worth of dross in an unstable field? Through twenty feet of rubble? All at once? Petra, you’re good, but you’re not that good. It needs a spell, and you can’t do it.”
“She doesn’t know that,” I countered. “You seriously want to tell her you used dross to power the spell? The feral shadow that conjured nearly killed us all.”
“I’ll tell her I had a couple of hidden lodestones.” He took a sip of water—as if that was it and that was all there would ever be. “My pride broke the vault. I’m taking the blame.”
My hand felt cold without his in it, and I made a point to take his again. “No,” I said lightly. “One of us needs to walk away from this with their reputation intact, and I’m used to having people look at me like I’m a pariah.”