Chapter 35

I woke up about seven on Boxing Day and went upstairs. Mom, Dad, Aunt Kate, and Andy were all sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee. Everyone but Dad had some toast. No one else seemed to be up yet. I wished everyone a good morning.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Mom asked.

"I didn't have any trouble," I said.

"With the amount of napping you did yesterday, I didn't think you'd be able to sleep at all."

"I woke up once during the night. Other than that, I slept steadily."

"Are you coming down with something?"

"Not so far as I know. Anyway, I have to pee." I made my escape. Most of my stuff hadn't been moved downstairs yet, so before heading into the big bathroom, I quietly got some older clothing that Mom considered play clothes out of my former room. After relieving myself, I did the morning ablutions. Then I dressed warmly--long underwear, both top and bottom; a flannel shirt; wool socks; and khakis. I also had a pullover sweater that had passed into the ratty category, but it was too warm to wear in the house. I just carried it for the time being.

I moved my toothbrush to the small bathroom where it would be handier to the basement, and I took my pajamas downstairs. Now that I was dressed, I put my athame in my pocket. When I went back up to the kitchen, Mary was eating a bowl of cereal at the table and chatting with Aunt Kate. I got my own bowl of flakes and joined them. Mary was going on about the piano. I mostly ignored the conversation; I was already starting to concentrate my thoughts on the task ahead.

Have a piece of pie, Ursus thought, once I had finished the cereal.

For breakfast? Arthur thought.

"Everything in moderation" and "get it while you can" are both good principles, so we'll have a moderate slice of pie, Ursus replied. I fetched a small slice of chocolate pie.

Of course, Mom, who was putting cups in the dishwasher, remarked, "Pie for breakfast?"

"It's dessert. I had my cereal first." She shook her head but didn't say anything more.

When I finished eating, I went downstairs and got both the bike rack that Mary had given to me and the tools from Dad's workroom that I needed to mount it to my bike. I went back upstairs and pulled on the sweater before going out into the garage. With the big door shut, I figured the sweater would be warm enough while I installed the rack.

The rack came with instructions, so I didn't have any trouble. While I was working, Mary came out. "I like your gift a lot," I said. "Thank you."

"You mentioned a couple of times how handy mine was, so I thought you'd appreciate it. I like the gift you got me, too. Did you know Mom and Dad were going to lease a piano?"

"No, but I was confident you'd find a way to learn."

"You seem to have developed a lot of faith in me, lately."

"I've become less stupid and self-centered, and I started to see what a fine person you are. Or should I say, 'ek-skellent' person?"

Mary lowered her gaze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I need you to do me a couple of favors today."

"So, you were just buttering me up?" She smiled when she said it.

"No, but it seemed like a good time to ask."

"What do you need?"

"I'm going to track down the demon summoner this morning. If I'm not back by about ten, call Danny, Mike, and Terry and tell them that band practice is after supper today. (Kirsten already knows.) More importantly, if I'm not back by dusk, you need to tell Mom and Dad everything that has been going on. I'd prefer not to endanger anyone else, but this guy has to be stopped. Emphasize how dangerous things are. I doubt if they'll believe anything about magic or demons, but it might at least make them cautious."

"I want to go with you."

"You can't. I have a protective amulet, but you don't, and I need someone here who knows what's happening if things go wrong."

"You almost froze to death last time."

"I'm using a different technique now. I won't freeze."

"Why didn't you use it last time, then?"

Yeah, why didn't I? I asked Ursus.

At the time, I mostly considered it a training exercise--something to build us up and increase the understanding of my young brain mates. I had no idea how serious things were about to get.

"I was just starting to practice scrying then," I said, "and I was already primed for using my scrying pan. Once things turned ugly, I needed to invent a more portable method. I'll show you before I leave."

Mary acted as assistant as I finished up installing the rack. When we went back into the house, no one saw us, so I left my boots on and grabbed my old coat and took it with me as we went downstairs. No one else was in the basement. I moved the new pointing device to where it was handy and took up my guitar. I played until I had gathered some manna and then picked up the pointing device and fed it a trickle of magical energy. "See, it's pointing to the place the goat was killed, which is most likely the magician's basement."

"That's so cool!" Her expression turned serious. "But I wish it wasn't pointing you toward danger."

"Yeah, but I don't have any choice. I'll show you on the map roughly where I'm heading." I dug out my sketch of the local area. "See where the two lines cross? The magician should live somewhere around there." It wasn't a half-mile away, just a little west and then south of Cord. I could cross Cord at the traffic light in front of Thompson High School.

"We're not supposed to go over there without permission," Mary said.

I was about to tell her to get some perspective, but then I thought better of it. "OK, I'll get permission." I gave her the map. "Hang on to that. You can show it to Mom and Dad if I don't get home on time." I put my coat on and carefully wound the string of the pointer onto the pencil and gently put it in a coat pocket.

I picked up my guitar. "You go up first and turn into the kitchen so that you're mostly blocking the view as I put my guitar in the garage. I don't want people asking questions about why I'm taking it with me."

"OK."

We did that. I was only in the garage long enough to lean the guitar against the wall on the hinge side of the door. I didn't necessarily have to bring my guitar with me, but I didn't want to start out, find that I needed to collect more manna, and not have it.

I went back inside and stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the little hallway that the laundry room, small bathroom, basement stairs, and backdoor all came off of. "Hey, Mom, I'm going for a bike ride. Is it OK if I go to the subdivision on the other side of Cord?"

Mom and the other adults were at the table with Susan and my brothers. Pretty much everyone was chattering at once. "Why do you want to go over there?" Mom asked.

Time to lie. "Well, the junior high is over there. I'll be attending next year."

"Are you thinking about next year already?"

"The solstice and the new year are natural times to think about the future, aren't they?"

"I guess. Is Mary going with you?"

"I don't think so. Mary has other things to do."

"Yeah, uh," Mary said. "I was going to read some and maybe practice the organ."

"You're really enthusiastic about music, aren't you?" Aunt Kate asked Mary.

I decided it was a splendid time for me to do a slow fade and headed for the garage. I put the big door up and waited a little to make sure Mom wasn't going to stick her head out. When I was satisfied, I took a glass pop bottle from one of the cases stacked against the wall and slipped it under the spring clip of the bike rack.

Even though I knew they were there, I felt to make sure I was wearing both my star amulet and my protective-circle amulet. I pulled on a ski mask, slung my guitar on my back, and walked the bicycle to the end of the driveway.

I turned the guitar around and played long enough to collect a little manna. Taking out my athame, I cut a symbolic door through the inner circle. I then went through it and redrew the circle while feeding it some energy. I did the same to the outer circle. Once I was outside the circles, I put the athame away, pulled on some gloves, and set out. I hoped that anyone who saw me just chalked my behavior up to typical weirdness.

I turned left at the corner of Dewey and Bradley and then right at the corner of Bradley and Cord. The snow along the main road had turned from white into a mixture of black and gray since the last snowfall. I pedaled down the sidewalk of Cord for several yards and then got off the bike, held my gloves in my teeth, and played long enough to collect as much manna as I could hold. Hang on to the energy, Arthur, I thought. He didn't argue. I could feel him focus his attention on the job.

I took the bottle from the rack, slipped the toothpick with the goat hair inside, and unreeled the pointing device. The bottle would protect the toothpick from the effects of the wind, and in extremis it would serve as a weapon that didn't necessarily look like a weapon.

Ursus started feeding the pointer a trickle of manna while chanting point, point, point. I turned the guitar back behind me, pulled my gloves back on, and then stood still long enough for the toothpick to quit moving. It pointed south, or nearly so, maybe a bit west, too. I slipped the bottle into one of my big coat pockets. Carrying a glass bottle that way wasn't the smartest thing to do, but getting the toothpick back out would be tricky, and I didn't want to put the bottle back on the rack with the toothpick still inside. Jostling along with it lying on the side of the bottle could mess it up.

I got back on the bike and pedaled until I was in front of the high school, a red brick ugliness on which all architectural niceties had been spared. I checked the pointer after Ursus started giving it manna again. It now pointed both south and east, so I had gone too far west. I went up to the traffic light in front of the school and waited for it to change.

The north-south street coming perpendicularly off Cord and almost in line with the driveway of the high school was named Silver Avenue. I needed the street one block east. I didn't yet know its name.

I crossed Cord once the traffic stopped. I was on the east side of Silver. A fire station was on the west. When Mike, Terry, and I were younger, we used to run to the corner of Dewey and look down Bradley in hope of seeing a fire truck go by when we heard the warning horn on the fire station. To Arthur, those days felt long ago.

I went back east along the sidewalk. I learned that the street I needed was named Weiner Avenue. I waited at the corner while Ursus fed the pointer manna as a double check. It more-or-less pointed down the street. I headed south on Weiner.

I hadn't gone far when three kids, two boys and a girl, walking north on the sidewalk saw me. I guessed they were a bit older than Arthur. "Hey, kid," the girl called. I wasn't going fast, and I slowed some more. "Why are you riding around with a guitar?" She had dark blonde hair hanging out from her winter hat.

My first impulse was to ignore them, but that might piss them off, and I couldn't afford trouble at that moment. I stopped. More lies were needed. I felt a little sick to my stomach, but I didn't want kids involved with the situation. "Have you ever heard of busking?" I asked.

The girl shook her head, but one of the guys said, "Isn't that, like, when you go around playing on street corners and stuff in the hopes that people will give you money?" He was fairly tall.

"Yeah," I said.

"You picked a hell of a day to do it, dude" said the other boy, who was shorter.

"On the bright side," I said, "most people are off work." Only emergency workers and those providing essential services worked on Boxing Day, by law.

"Good luck on finding them outside," the tall boy said.

"Perhaps I'm overly optimistic," I said.

"Play something," the girl said.

"What's in it for me?"

She pulled a package of candy from her pocket. "I'll give you a licorice stick."

I shrugged. It would probably be the quickest way of ending this without unpleasantness. I got off the bicycle, shoved my gloves in the pocket on the other side of the coat from the one with the bottle, turned the guitar around front, and began to play. I strummed "Up in the Air" while I sang the words. Arthur took the opportunity to gather manna until I was again holding as much as I could.

The three of them started to clap when I was finished. "You're really good," said the girl. "Play another."

"Do I get another piece of licorice?"

"Sure!"

I sang them "The Paragon's Parade." They clapped again.

"One more?" wheedled the girl.

"I need to get going," I said. She looked disappointed for a second, but then she smiled and handed over the candy. I didn't really have any place to put it where it wouldn't collect fuzz. Oh, well. I unzipped one of my smaller pockets and shoved it inside.

"How much have you made so far?" asked the shorter boy.

"Two pieces of red licorice," I answered as I climbed on my bicycle.

"Good luck," said the girl. The two guys echoed her. I gave them a wave and pedaled down the street. It was a nicer subdivision than Arthur's. The homes were older, but they were all different shapes and sizes rather than uniform tract housing. The trees were bigger, and the yards were about twice the size of those on Arthur's block.