The Collected Christopher Connery (2 page)

BOOK: The Collected Christopher Connery
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Illuminator Nia Graves
Academy Magician, First Class

Nia Graves studied herself in the full-length mirror,
carefully adjusting the fall of her skirt. She had purchased a new dress for
her assignment, wanting something both fashionable and professional. For the
first time in her career, she would be representing the Academy on the outside
and she didn’t want to look like she had just spent a night hunched over books
in the library.

And considering that was how she spent most of her
nights, the selection of her new wardrobe had taken some serious consideration.

Frowning, she reached up to adjust her hat again. She
couldn’t decide if it looked better tilted to the left or the right.

“We’re already late, you know,” her twin brother Arthur
said from behind her.

Nia scowled at him in the mirror. “The way you drive, it
won’t take us more than a few minutes to get to the police station. We’ll be on
time.”

“It’s a car, not a time machine.”

Nia tilted her hat again and stepped back, finally
satisfied. “Nearly ready.”

Arthur sighed, but for once refrained from rolling his
eyes, though Nia could imagine the gesture perfectly well from years of
experience. He and Nia had the same eyes, as well as the same deep brown skin
and tightly curled hair. When they were children, the magicians in the nursery
had never been able to tell them apart. That had ended when Arthur had grown
several inches seemingly overnight when he was twelve.

“Is the car packed?” Nia asked as she pulled on her coat.

“Since last night.”

Ignoring his tone, Nia searched through her box of
diamond rings and selected one big enough to be functional without being
ostentatious. If Nia found herself in a situation where her only canvass for
spell drawing was a window or a mirror, the diamond would prove invaluable. An
Illuminator, especially one working beyond the Academy walls, had to be
prepared to make use of any surface and any tools. Along with the ring, Nia
always carried several pens, pencils, and pieces of chalk in her handbag and
there was more of the same tucked in hidden pockets in her coat, dress, and the
band of her hat. An Illuminator who could not draw was helpless and Nia never
meant to be helpless. In fact, she –

“Are you sure you’re not nervous?” Arthur asked her. “You
look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I do not,” Nia informed him, though she couldn’t deny
that her stomach was more fluttery than she liked. But she was
not
nervous,
simply – simply necessarily aware that this was her first solo assignment
outside of the Academy, and that she had a great deal to prove. A great deal
that she
would
prove.

Pulling the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, she
turned to Arthur. “I’m ready.”

She expected him to make another stunningly witty comment
such as “finally,” but instead he just smiled gently. “I know you are. You’re
the youngest fully accredited Illuminator in seventy years, remember?”

She smiled back. “Well, not quite. Stoll was twenty-four
when she received her first individual assignment and that was only sixty-seven
years ago.” She paused. “She died during it, if I recall.”

“Yeah, that was sort of why I left her out. ‘Youngest
currently living Illuminator in seventy years’ doesn’t have the same ring to
it. Feel better yet?”

Nia laughed and discovered, to her surprise, that she
did. “I will try not to live up to her legacy.”

“Good.” Arthur picked up his own small bag. “I can take
your bag for you if you want.”

“Thank you.” Nia handed it over, laughing when Arthur
winced.

“What’s in here, your lead collection?” When Nia only
laughed again, he added, “Is it too late to revoke my gallantry?”

“Yes.” Nia swept by him and through the door.

“Do you have to meet with the Directors before we go?”
Arthur asked as they made their way down the wide central stairs. Several other
magicians hurried past them on various errands. Some of the better sort greeted
them both with equal friendliness, but there were several who offered Nia
chipper good mornings as they averted their eyes from Arthur. He didn’t seem to
notice, but Nia made sure her answering greetings were appropriately chilly.

“No, I spoke to the Directors yesterday,” she answered as
they stepped into the entrance hall, their shoes tapping on the polished
marble. Delicate magic had been used to place color inside the stone and keep
it safe from the constant drag and scuff of passing feet. The colors formed
detailed pictures of dragons and other beasts which twisted into complex spells
of protection that could be activated at any time by the correct sequence of
words.

Arthur paused inside a circle formed by the wormlike body
of a cave dragon trying to devour the tail of a fire-breathing manticore. “Did
they mention me?”

Nia busied herself with opening her umbrella as she tried
to think of a polite way to answer. Of course they had mentioned Arthur. Some
of the Directors, the council of experienced magicians who led the Academy, did
not approve of him accompanying her. A few of the dissenters had argued that he
was needed at home. Highly trained in both mechanics and medicine, Arthur’s
skills, non-magical though they were, were extremely valuable to the Academy.
But the rest had fallen back on the old mainstay:
He’s a danger to himself
and others. All bound magicians are, but ones like him especially.

Nia knew perfectly well that Arthur was no danger to
anyone, but the Directors’s fears were understandable. As a bound ward of the
Academy, Arthur’s movements were carefully regulated and he was not allowed to
leave the Academy without a chaperone. Years ago, his magic had been locked
inside him with special spells. Most bound wards underwent the procedure later
in life as punishment for some misuse of their talents, but Arthur had been
bound young, at only nine years old.

The reasons were classified, but Nia knew them. She had
been a witness at his trial after all.

Fortunately, she had eventually managed to convince the
Directors to let Arthur join her. No one would prove a better assistant,
regardless of his past.

“They just asked me if you were prepared,” she said at
last. “I told them you always were.”

Arthur snorted. “At least I kept an eye on the clock, not
that it did any good.”

“Oh, hush.” But Nia let herself smile. Despite his
tendency to fuss, she was glad Arthur was with her. She couldn’t rely on anyone
the way she could rely on him.

Passing through the wide doors, Nia and Arthur made their
way across the lawn to the car. The rain was coming down hard now, but this
close to the Academy, the lawns were magically shielded, giving the children
space to play even on wet days. Farther away from the main buildings, however,
the magicians in charge of the gardens and the wards who assisted them were
running to and fro, getting the tents and sunlamps ready for another rainy
season.

Outside the protected area, the rain gleamed on the tarp
covering their car. The paint job was magically enhanced, of course – after
magically powered lights and structural waterproofing, rain-resistant paint was
the Academy’s most lucrative product – but it couldn’t stand up indefinitely to
to the tainted water.

Despite his protests, Nia helped Arthur uncover the car
before tucking herself into the front seat. It was a slightly tight fit with
all the suitcases and boxes stacked in back, but the last thing Nia wanted to
be was unprepared. She had only been named a full Illuminator two years ago and
had expected to be confined to internal work for at least a year more, but the
Directors had specially selected her for this assignment. They needed a
magician with exceptional magical skill and a knowledge of old, defunct magics.
Nia possessed both.

“If you do well,” they had told her, “you could go a long
way toward redeeming your name.”

Redeeming her name from Arthur, that was. And from her
mother.

If you do well.
She would do better than well. She
would accept nothing less than success. As Arthur slid into the driver’s seat,
Nia pulled a book from her handbag and began reviewing some of the circles she
might need to draw during the assignment. She knew most of them by heart, but
it never hurt to refresh her memory.

After deftly negotiating the narrow roads that twisted
through the Academy campus, Arthur turned into the city proper – and almost
immediately had to brake sharply to avoid running down a few careless
pedestrians.

“I hate driving in this part of the city,” he grumbled as
he jerked the car back into motion. “No one pays any damn attention. I just
hope we survive long enough to get to the station.”

Nia wasn’t worried. Arthur had a natural affinity for
cars and other mechanical things. When he wasn’t doing surgery, he helped in
the workshops, building generators, motors, and even working on the prototype
automatons.

Her confidence was well placed. Despite a few frustrating
minutes spent trapped behind a slow-moving trolley, they made it to the
laypolice station without incident. And they were only half an hour late.
Surely that wasn’t too bad.

She could see her new layman partner standing on the
steps, swaddled in a plastic poncho. Nia still wasn’t certain she needed
a
layman’s help, but the Directors had said that this detective was the closest
thing they had to an expert on Mr. Connery. She supposed their experience might
prove useful.

Realizing the car had been stopped for nearly a minute,
Nia pulled up the hood of her own poncho, took a deep breath, and prepared to
meet her new partner’s acquaintance.

4
Gail Lin

The magician was late.

Gail had arrived early, already regretting her decision.
After the rent check had been handed over, the need for money didn’t seem that
urgent and she was beginning to think she had agreed to be part of something
distinctly unethical. Connery was dead and the world was a little brighter for
it. Did she really want to reverse that?

But she should have thought of that yesterday. If she
backed out now, she would be kicking her career in the teeth and she couldn’t
afford to do that, not coming from where she did.

So here she stood, battered old suitcase at her feet,
rain splattering against the hood of her poncho, waiting. And waiting. And
waiting. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and twirled it between her
fingers. She had quit over a year ago, but having one in her hand sometimes
helped put her mind at ease. And if this was how the case was starting out, her
mind was going to need a lot of easing.

Finally, about an hour after the appointed time, a shiny
black car pulled up to the curb. It had the Academy seal painted on the side
and was bigger than most cars on the street. She’d have preferred something a
little more discrete, but discrete wasn’t what the Academy usually went for.

A long few seconds after the car slid to a stop, the
passenger side door opened and a young woman –
damn, she looks barely
twenty-five?
– stepped out. Gail might have taken her for the Illuminator’s
assistant if it weren’t for the bright flame-shaped pin on her lapel, just
visible beneath her poncho.  

“Good morning! I’m so sorry we’re late. Arthur ran into
traffic.”

The driver, who Gail could only assume was Arthur, got
out of the car as well. He didn’t say anything, but if he had rolled his eyes
any harder, they would have tumbled out of his head and gone bouncing down the
sidewalk. He walked over to Gail and held out one gloved hand.

“Uh.” Gail awkwardly shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

Arthur smiled slightly and pointed down at the suitcase
at her feet.

“Oh.” Gail immediately let go of his hand. “Uh, I can
handle it. Thanks. You don’t have to –”

Before she could finish, he picked up the suitcase anyway
and walked around the back of the car.

Well,
thought Gail, shoving her cigarette back
into her pocket.
This is going well.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” the Illuminator said.
“We really did try to be on time, but the city is always so crowded! I don’t
know how you stand it every day.”

“I’m not sure either. Now –”

“Oh, Arthur, let me help you.” An instant later, the
Illuminator had flitted from Gail’s side to help Arthur load the suitcase into
the back. Gail took the quiet moment to study her new colleagues. If she didn’t
miss her guess, the pair were siblings, if not twins.
It’s nice to see that
this is a family affair.

Then the Illuminator was back. “You must be Detective
Lin.”

“That’s me. Sorry, ma’am, but they didn’t give me your
name.”

“Oh, of course.” The Illuminator held out a hand for Gail
to shake. “I’m Nia Graves. Arthur is my brother and assistant.”

Score one for the ace detective.
“It’s nice to
meet you. Uh, look, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you know much about
Connery, ma’am?”

Nia waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, yes, I’ve read
several case files.”

“Okay, but –”

“Anyway, we can discuss the case once we check into the
hotel. Come along, Detective Lin, we don’t want to waste the day!” Flashing an
aggressively bright smile, Nia opened the passenger side door and vanished into
the car again.

Biting back a sigh, Gail slumped down the steps and
plopped into the backseat after shoving aside several book. As soon as she had
shut her door, Nia twisted around to speak to her.

“I was told you had some reservations about the case when
it was presented to you, detective, so I wanted to let you know upfront that
there is no need for concern. All we need to do is locate Connery and then
Arthur and I will return him to the Academy where he will be dealt with in
utmost security.”

Gail thought that he had been dealt with pretty well
already. “Look, I know I said that I –”

The car engine roared to life and Arthur turned them
sharply out into the street. Gail immediately fumbled for her seatbelt.

Nia smiled wider. “Don’t worry, detective, Arthur has
plenty of experience driving in the city.”

The sound Arthur made in response was significantly more
noncommittal as he put his foot to the gas and roared off into the thickening
traffic.

Apparently, Nia was perfectly comfortable sitting
backwards because she stayed that way throughout the fifteen minute journey,
deftly talking over any objections or misgivings Gail tried to voice.

As they approached their hotel – a palatial institution
that went by the humble name of The Crown of Crossbridge – she was saying
something about tracking Connery using strands of hair that had been recovered
from the scene. Then she cheerily waved a small bag containing said hair,
making the whole exchange feel a little surreal. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t
used to seeing bags of bloody hair. She just wasn’t used to seeing them in the
hands of women who looked like they spent their days quietly reading by magic
light.

“The first thing we need to do is track down his head,”
Nia said as they pulled up to The Crown. “That’s the part most closely
connected with the hair, obviously, and once we have the head, we can find the
rest of him.”

“Do we even know how many pieces he was chopped into?”
Gail asked as she got out of the car, rubbing her hip where the sharp corner of
a book had jabbed her. The rain had lightened up a bit, but she still made sure
the hood of her poncho was firmly in place. “If they really went to town on
him, we’ll be looking for a long time.”

Arthur grimaced in response, but Nia only looked
thoughtful as she stepped out on to the sidewalk. “You make a valid point,
Detective Lin. The report by the Illuminator at the scene was admittedly…
lacking in detail, but considering how little organic matter was found at the
scene, it was likely he was cut into pieces large enough to easily carry away.”

A passing man looked sharply at them, but Nia didn’t seem
to notice and continued talking as they entered the hotel’s bustling lobby.
“Furthermore, considering how little time Mr. Connery’s underlings had to do
the deed, they couldn’t have gotten too carried away. No, I think we can safely
assume that he’s intact enough to make our job possible.”

“Unless they did more work on him later.”

Nia frowned as if she didn’t appreciate Gail’s pessimism.

Chopped or minced, it makes no difference, Gail girl.
You agreed to do this and now you’re stick in it. Just think about the money.
Hefting
her suitcase in one hand, Gail said, “Anyway, I guess we’ll just do the best
job we can. How about I drop my stuff upstairs and meet you down here in ten
minutes?”

Nia’s frown flipped into another beaming smile.
“Certainly, detective! Ten minutes exactly.”

Pretty sure the magicians would not be back downstairs in
ten minutes exactly, Gail took her time getting herself settled in her room. It
was simultaneously plush and uncomfortable in the way that only expensive hotel
rooms could be, but it far way nicer than her apartment and it was nice to get
a door between her and her new associate for a few minutes. This Miss Graves
seemed nice enough, but she was… eager, a trait that Gail couldn’t help
associating with overconfidence and fuck ups.

But the case wasn’t going anywhere, so after unpacking
her suitcase and washing her face in the bathroom sink, she headed back
downstairs. Much to her surprise, Nia was already there, waiting alone by the
door.

Bracing herself for another explosive round of talk, Gail
walked over, raising a hand in greeting.

Nia offered a sharp smile that looked like it would
shatter if she held it too long. “Hello, detective, Arthur’s just gone to get
the car. I hope you found your accommodations adequate. I thought they might be
a trifle small, but –”

“This is easily the biggest space I’ve ever lived in,”
Gail couldn’t help saying.

“Oh! I – well… I – ah.” The smile was little more than a
ghost of its former self as Nia turned her attention back to the door.

Good job, Gail, this is her first time out of the
Academy and you’re being an asshole to her. She probably didn’t even volunteer
for this assignment. You were the one who did that.
The truth was a hard
pill to swallow, but it was the truth. However stupid she thought this plan
was, Illuminator Graves wasn’t to blame for it.

So, taking a deep breath, she put on her best friendly
face (which had never been all that good; her dad used to tell her she had been
the most disgruntled-looking baby he’d ever seen) and asked a question that had
been bugging her ever since the magicians had picked her up. “So, your brother,
can he – uh – talk?”

“Of course he can,” Nia answered as she adjusted her hat.
“He’s just not supposed to talk to anyone outside of the Academy.”

“Oh. Why?”

Nia didn’t answer right away. She bit her lip and glanced
around as though she thought someone might attempt to listen in. “Very well, I can
tell you, but only if you promise not to let on to Arthur that you know. He
would be so embarrassed.”

“All right,” Gail said slowly, wondering what the hell
she was talking about. What was wrong with the guy? Did he have some sort of
embarrassing magical disease that made him quack like a duck whenever he opened
his mouth?

“Arthur is a bound ward of the Academy, you see.”

Gail did not see.

“That means he isn’t allowed to leave the Academy campus
unaccompanied.”

Still blind.

Nia finally seemed to notice the blankness on her face.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Can’t say that I do.”

“He’s a ward of the Academy,” Nia said again as if
repetition would help Gail understand. “That means he’s not a full magician. He
never completed his education. That happens sometimes. Some people just don’t
have enough talent. Some leave to live in the city, but most just live and work
at the Academy, doing other things.”

“Okay, so?”

“But Arthur’s not just a regular ward, he’s a
bound
ward, which means he –” Nia looked around again, clearly keeping an eye out for
Arthur. “Which means he was expelled.”

“Expelled?”  

“When he was nine years old. Honestly, he’s lucky that he
wasn’t killed for what he –” Nia swallowed the rest of her words. “It’s simply
that… that…”

Gail decided she might as well put an end to the
uncomfortable conversation. It really wasn’t any of her business anyway. If the
Academy figured it was safe to send the guy out into the world, then he
probably wasn’t dangerous. “Okay, I think I get it.”

“He’s very talented,” Nia said with sudden defensiveness
as if Gail had implied otherwise. “His magic has been bound, but he’s excelled
in other fields. He’s a surgeon, you know.”

No, Gail had not known. How the hell could she have known
that Mr. Silent Driver had a medical degree? “Look, you obviously know more
about this than I do, but it’s going to be a bit uncomfortable if he can’t talk
to me. We’re all supposed to be working together, right?”

“Oh, but –” Nia stopped short, her brow wrinkling as she
looked pensively through the glass door. “Actually, I think you may be right.”

“Really?”

Nia smiled at her, an actual smile rather than the forced
one she’d been flashing all morning. It made her look older but also less
strained. “As you said, we are supposed to be working together. Frankly, I
think it annoys him to have to stay quiet all the time.”

“Uh, yeah, it’d annoy me too.” When Nia turned toward the
door again, still smiling, Gail let herself wonder what the kid had done to get
himself expelled from the Academy. It must have been something pretty serious
if the Academy didn’t even want him talking to people. Still, if it happened
when he was nine, Gail wasn’t going to judge him too harshly. Kids did dumb
shit. She had a distinct memory of herself at around that age attempting to
escape the children’s home by jumping across the neighborhood roofs. She had
broken one leg and both arms and was lucky she could still walk straight.

When Arthur finally returned, shaking out his umbrella
conscientiously before stepping on to the lobby carpet, Nia practically leapt
on him in her eagerness to tell him the news.

“Arthur! Detective Lin and I have been talking.”

Arthur looked at his sister then at Gail.

Damn,
Gail thought.
He sure knows how to arch
an eyebrow. I wonder how long he spent practicing that look in the mirror.

“And we’ve agreed that there’s no reason you can’t talk
to her.”

That seemed to surprise him, sending the second eyebrow
up to join its buddy.

“The rule makes sense for little trips outside, I
suppose,” Nia added quickly, “but if we’re going to be working with Detective
Lin, it makes no sense for you to be silent around her. Don’t you agree?” When
Arthur slowly nodded, she smiled so brightly that an outsider would have
thought that she’d been the one freed from silence.

Deciding it was time for her to step in, Gail offered her
hand to Arthur again. “I guess I can say hello properly now.”

This time, Arthur returned the handshake warmly. “Hello.
It’s – er – nice to meet you. Properly, I mean.”

“Same here.” Hopefully this would at least make things
less uncomfortable, if not less stupid. “Now that we’re all acquainted, I guess
we’d better get started.” Gail looked at Nia. “So where to?”

BOOK: The Collected Christopher Connery
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