Excantation Page 6

  Nana, at least, got the reference and chuckled. “Sounds like you need one. I do have something that came in this afternoon that might help.”

  I perked up, like a squirrel with the promise of a nut. “Yes?”

  “A very talented man sent in a series of paintings he did of the Hub. He said his memory is a bit shaky on the details, but he thought it might help if you saw what it looked like.”

  Pictures. Actual pictures. “OMG, can I have his babies?”

  Nana burst out laughing. “This, before you’ve even seen them!”

  “Excuse you, that adage about a picture being worth a thousand words is an UNDERSTATEMENT in this case. Like, no joke. We keep getting these descriptions from people, which helps, but we can’t really visualize it well. And you know Imagineers, we’re all about that visual.”

  “That you are.” Klaus gave me a staying motion with one hand, then popped up and went to some other part of the room before he came back. He had to stretch to do it, but he unfurled a canvas and displayed the picture on it. “Here’s one of them. He painted about a dozen.”

  My eyes roved over the painting with keen interest. The picture was a street view, as if the viewer stood right on the curb, looking up. Buildings stood on either side, what looked to be shops, like something you’d see in an airport. Vendors who offered snacks, rest areas, that sort of thing. A few people were in the scene, nothing but silhouettes of grey, as of course they weren’t the focus. But the buildings and street—and I swear to you the street was paved—were pristine in detail. Almost photograph quality, that’s how realistic it looked. An incredible scene, breathtaking, and it gave a hint that nothing else had because we could see part of the structure.

  Beyond the buildings lining the street, a very tall structure jutted upward. I could only see a part of it, a slope that might have been the base, made of a white, glistening material like metal twisting ever so slightly upward. I couldn’t understand what it was, although just this hint thrilled me. But the structure cut off at the top, like it was axed, revealing nothing but blue skies.

  “That’s an amazing painting,” I breathed, bending further and further in to peer closer at it. “But I don’t exactly understand what I’m seeing. Why is the top part of the central building cut off like that?”

  “Ah, that’s clearer in a different picture. Klaus, get that first one we saw.”

  “Wait, wait, before you show me more things. Let me get Mactep and James over here. They will freak if I don’t pull them into this.” I certainly would if the roles were reversed.

  Nana shooed me on and I popped up, heading straight down the hall. “Mactep!”

  She opened her door a crack and gave me a bleary look. “Devushka, some of us are old and tired and need to sleep.”

  I blinked at her innocently. “Oh, so you don’t want to look at the paintings someone did of the Hub?”

  Zoya stared at me, a woman waiting on the punchline. Then she swore in Russian and yanked the door fully open. “When was this?”

  “Paintings arrived this afternoon. I’ve only seen one. Let me run next door and grab James.”

  She was already going into my room and pitched over her shoulder, “Have Agna make me coffee.”

  Yeah, she might need it at this rate. I happily descended the stairs and poked my head in the kitchen, where our hostess was already at work.

  “House told me,” she assured me. “Coffee’s on. I take it new information came through?”

  “Boy, did it ever. Hopefully it’ll spark a breakthrough. Make enough for James too, please, I’m fetching him next.”

  With that said, I bounced out the front door, down to the sidewalk, and rounded the iron gate to the next door, where I gave it a firm knock. As I did, it struck me that the black iron fences around the doors likely weren’t actually iron. Oh sure, they were painted to look that way, but I’d bet they weren’t. With this many magical races sensitive to iron living around here? Yeah, no.

  James opened the door, wearing what looked like a very comfortable loose shirt and PJ pants, slippers on his feet. His expression suggested he was braced for another emergency but really not in the mood to change out of his comfy clothes. I knew that look well, having worn it many a time. “What’s happened?”

  I gave him a smile to put him at ease. “Someone painted pictures of the Hub and sent it to my house in Oregon. Wanna see?”

  His blue eyes grew wide behind his glasses. “Actual paintings? How detailed?”

  “Photograph quality. My nana and kobold are unrolling them and holding them up so we can see them over Skype.”

  He lost no time in shutting the front door and bolting down the stairs, running right past me without even a ‘sure, Reagan, that sounds bloody brilliant.’ It amused me, but at the same time, I understood. I was right at his heels as we went back into Agna’s house and up the stairs.

  In my absence, my laptop had been taken downstairs to the living room, where Agna hooked it up to the big TV on the wall. House had rearranged the chairs a little so we could all comfortably sit and view the screen. James sat next to Zoya in a comfy, padded chair, pushing the glasses up on his nose.

  “James,” Nana greeted with a smile. “We have precisely thirteen paintings to show you.”

  “Julia, I cannot express how happy I am to hear it. And who painted these?”

  “A lovely elf by the name of Adolowyn Starlight. He’s promised more, if these are helpful.”

  “Super helpful,” I promised both of them. “Even just the one I saw is super helpful.”

  Klaus had also rearranged things while I was gone, and he had the laptop on the desk now so he and Nana could fully display each picture between them. I was sure if they’d had an art easel in the house, they’d have grabbed it. Mine had gotten broken during the move, and I hadn’t bothered to replace it. I hadn’t used it much to begin with. I was a sketcher, not a painter.

  They started with the first picture I’d already seen, which was only fair, to catch Zoya and James up to speed. I swear James drooled a little as he looked it over. But then, he’d spent years studying this very subject without a single picture to go off of. This was like the best present ever for him.

  “What is that cutoff about?” Zoya asked, pointing toward the top. “It’s like the building just disappears.”

  “There’s another picture that explains that better,” Nana assured her, just as she’d done me.

  They dropped that picture and lifted another, this scene looking up, with only the edge of a roofline for reference. The sky was cut exactly in half, like an old-timey solar machine moved the sun down even while another brought the moon up. Half the sky was a view of the stars, the other half of the sunset.

  “A glamour,” James murmured thoughtfully. “It must have been. It’s why no one has a reference on where this is. There was a glamour in the sky to make it look like day, or sunset, or night, so people had a point of reference to time. Likely also a protection for those races that couldn’t handle UV light.”

  That made so much sense. At least part of that did, but it did leave me with questions. “And they didn’t continue the glamour to the very top of the central tower…why?”

  “An excellent question,” James allowed, eyes still fixed on the TV, “and one I have no ready answer to. It could be it was a matter of power. It was easier to keep the glamour like a low dome over the city rather than try to stretch it to the very top of that central building. That’s my first guess.”

  “Also possible they needed an unfettered view up top to run things smoothly,” Zoya offered, pausing only to accept a cup of coffee from Agna with murmured thanks. “Think about it. I bet you that central tower was much like a modern control tower. They’d need to see what was going on. A glamour would have hampered them.”

  James nodded, agreeing, but also gestured back at the screen. “Another picture, please.”

  The next one they held up for us was a view right at the edge of the tunnel, like wh
at a passenger would see as they stepped out of the tunnel and into the Hub itself. There was a waiting area on either side of a large, enclosed space, much like an airport terminal. The walkway continued on, past the lines of chairs, stretching out further to another set of doors.

  What intrigued me was that for once, the artist had painted someone in full color. Standing next to the edge of the tunnel stood a kobold in a black-on-red uniform, gesturing the passenger out. “That looks like an employee?”

  “Yes, we’ve had reports that people were designated in the Hub to run the platforms, which makes sense.” Zoya sipped at her coffee, brows furrowed as she took in the picture. “People screw up simple instructions all the time. Better to have someone trained to do it.”

  I didn’t remember anyone mentioning an employee before this, but I hadn’t read all the records, either. Maybe I missed something. “Nana, out of curiosity, did he send anything with the pictures? The elf who painted these, I mean.”

  “Yes, he did send a letter with what he remembered. As well as a few smaller sketches, such as what an international ticket looked like. Apparently, they did issue tickets if you used the Hub. He said they were never expensive, the tickets meant more as a way of helping you get to the right terminal.”

  Klaus gave a sheepish shrug. “I’d forgotten about the tickets entirely until I saw his sketch. Strange, how things slip as time goes by. He did mention in his letter that he wasn’t sure what information would be helpful, that he just drew anything that came to mind. He did think of other things, but he sent these ahead, waiting to hear back from us if we wanted anything more from him. Also a phone number, if you want to call him.”

  “I”—I put a hand to my heart and spoke emphatically—“would love to talk to the guy.”

  “We all do, devushka. But the question I have is, how do we get these paintings to us here? Julia, we fully plan to have a think tank here, under Agna’s roof. It’s a more central location to meet in.”

  Nana nodded. “Reagan told us. I suppose we can ship these to you? Oh dear, no, they’d take forever to get through customs. Maybe someone can fly them? Our scanner is much too small, and I’d hate to take a picture of them.”

  I looked at all the adults, who were seriously stumped on how to handle this, and sighed. Generation gap, anyone? “Nana. You can take these to Kinko’s and get them scanned.”

  She blinked at me. “I can?”

  “Sure. They have a huge scanner. It’s how I sent scans of my artwork, back in the day, when Mom and Dad still cared enough to take a look. Remember?”

  “Child, I remember nothing. I only remember sending you into the store and you doing something and coming out with a receipt.”

  “Come to think of it, you generally did wait in the car. Or were doing something else. Anyway, go there. Take a thumb drive with you, they’ll load everything onto it. Tell them to go as high-res as they can.”

  “High…res?”

  “High resolution,” I translated. So much generation gap right now. Or maybe it was technology gap. “That way there’s no quality loss. And then you can just upload it to the Google Drive with everything else.”

  “We’ll do that first thing in the morning,” Klaus promised. “Do you want to look at the rest of these tonight?”

  “I’d at least like to take a look,” James admitted. “I’m too wired to sleep now. And it usually works best for me to let my subconscious mind work on things.”

  I’m all for looking stuff over and sleeping on it. Sometimes, my sleeping self is far smarter than my awake self. Not sure how that works, but it’s sadly the truth. “I want to look at them too. They’re really amazing in terms of artistry.”

  “He’s very talented,” Agna agreed. She’d been so quiet I’d almost forgotten she was in the room. “Can I get you anything else?”

  I thought about it for a moment, but my laptop had been commandeered. “Agna, you got any notebooks or paper? Something I can take notes down on? We’re going to have a lot of questions to ask, but I don’t trust any of our brains to remember them right now.”

  “Certainly, wait a bit.” She ducked out of the room to fetch it.

  James rubbed his hands together in anticipation and open glee. “Show me another one, please.”

  If this didn’t turn into an all-nighter, I’d be very surprised.

  I totally called the all-night binger. We went to bed somewhere around three o’clock in the morning and I didn’t wake back up until well after ten. I went through the motions of showering, because my scalp was starting to itch, and no one wanted to see the swamp witch version of me this morning. Not even me. Then I pulled on clothes—laundry needed to happen today, definitely—and wandered down the stairs while stifling a yawn behind one hand.

  Agna’s house gave me a little rattle, which I took to mean good morning. I gave it a pat on the wall as I descended. “Morning, House.”

  House gave another rattle, this one sounding happier. Not that I was an expert at rattling walls, or anything. But it didn’t turn the stairs under me into a ramp and dump me out onto the floor, so I was going with happy.

  “It’s pleased you understand it,” Agna informed me, popping her head out of the kitchen. “Neither of us were sure if you would, since your House hasn’t been awake for very long.”

  “No, but my House is pretty talkative. And my grandmother talks to it and plays with it all the time, so I’m used to it by now, I guess.” From the general direction of the kitchen, a lovely smell wafted towards my nostrils and promised culinary delights. “Tell me that’s pancakes.”

  “And eggs. I’ve bacon too, if you want that.”

  I may or may not have whimpered. Still out for confirmation on that one. “Yes, please? Oh, and after breakfast, maybe tell me where the laundry room is?”

  Agna shot me an inquiring look over her shoulder as she led the way into the kitchen. “You’ve laundry that needs doing?”

  “I’m wearing my one clean outfit. With all that happened, I didn’t have a lot of time to do domestic stuff.” And yes, technically, I could create new clothes. Or banish dirt out of these clothes. But my banishing skills and I had a barely-controlled raging hatred for each other so, yeah. Hard pass. Laundry was just easier all around.

  “Understandable. I’ll handle it.”

  I thought about insisting I could do my own laundry. Then I realized I spoke with a kobold and thought better of the impulse. I had no desire to die on that hill. “Thanks, Agna.”

  She smiled, pleased that I didn’t fight her over my laundry. “Sit and eat. I’ll need to take a picture of you to show Klaus. He’s fussing.”

  Six months ago, that statement wouldn’t have made sense to me. After living with my kobold guardian for several months, though, I now understood him a little better. And yeah, in a way, I felt loved that he wasn’t happy about our separation. “It’s irritating him you’re taking care of me instead of him, isn’t it?”

  There was a bit of mischief in her smile as she shrugged. “No kobold likes to entrust their master to someone else. Even if we do trust each other.”

  “Well, hopefully we figure this out quickly and I can go home.” That actually did sound nice. Not just because the situation needed a resolution, but I missed my own bed. Like, words could not describe how much I missed my own bed. I could write angsty poetry about how much I missed my bed, no joke.

  The pancakes were perfectly light and fluffy, the scrambled eggs somehow also light and fluffy, and the bacon crisp. I tucked in with gusto, my mouth reporting much happiness.

  I paused mid-pancake when I realized it was Tuesday. What with the jet lag and excitement and all the flights, I hadn’t realized the day. I normally Skyped with my parents on Sunday, but I hadn’t gotten a message from either of them about missing me this week.

  They hadn’t noticed.

  A little frown flitted across my face. It wasn’t that it was unusual for them to forget. But I expected better communication from my father
after seeing him in India so recently. At the very least, I expected he would want to Skype just to ask me more questions. I was a little confused at this radio silence.

  Alright, well, we’d all been really busy. I’d try messaging them. I sent a message to both parents, asking how they were. At a sound from the doorway, I put my phone down, looking up to see who joined us.

  James shuffled in, looking a little bleary around the edges with his shirt half-tucked into his jeans, and house slippers still on. He had his phone in one hand, reading something, even as he gave us an absent-minded greeting. “Good morning. Agna, could I trouble you for some coffee?”

  “Two sugars?”

  “And cream. Cheers, love. Your coffee is far superior to mine, and I need it this morning.” He dropped into the chair adjacent to mine and flashed me a quick smile. “I’ve heard back from two colleagues who are eager to join us. Seo Ra Im—she’s a witch and probably one of the most unconventionally brilliant minds you’ll meet—and Aisling. She’s a druid, quite knowledgeable in the lore and craft. I’ve sent word out to Richard as well. He’s an expert in historical building techniques, I thought he’d be able to weigh in. But he’s not emailed me back yet. I might have to call him. The man’s notorious for not really checking his emails more than once a month.”

  That all sounded good to me, just the sort of experts to ask questions of. “And they’re coming here to meet?”

  “Bless them, yes. They’ve said they’ll drop everything and come. Seo Ra Im warned she might not make it in for a few days—she’s in Korea, bit further of a trip for her. Distance means very little to Aisling, however, she can arrive whenever and wherever she wishes. She said she’d be here later this afternoon.” He put the phone down on the table to accept the coffee Agna offered him. “You’re a jewel I don’t deserve, Agna.”

  “You always say that when I hand you coffee.” She was pleased with the compliment though. I could tell by her expression. “If you’re pulling in multiple people, will you have room in your house to host them all?”