Oh, the paper. Shocking reams of them slipping through the air, undulating in great, majestic folds like white serpents in flight, flitting from desk to desk. Books floated languorously from one corner of the library to the next, most in a kind of humdrum procession, but a few flapping their covers and pages like birds in flight.
And all around the building, on both levels of this Alexandrian structure were people just nonchalantly walking and weaving through, getting a day’s work in. People in tweed suits, a standard shirt and tie, a gothic Lolita here or there, a girl who may as well have stepped fresh off of an avant-garde runway – there clearly wasn’t a dress code here. And the craziest thing of all was that nobody seemed to give a damn about what was happening. They were sipping coffee, talking around water coolers, clacking away at their laptops, like this was normal.
I looked down at myself, at the worn patch over the knee in my jeans, at the street-weathered sneakers I was wearing to sully the gleaming wooden floor of this Lorica, as they called it. My feet looked totally pedestrian against the carpet, with its intricate woven patterns that I was one-hundred percent sure were shifting and swirling even as I watched.
“I. I can’t.”
That was all I could manage. Thea smiled kindly, then took my hand. “Can, and will, Dustin. Headquarters can be overwhelming, but you’ll get used to it in due time. This is the first step into your new life, and if you play your cards right, your new office.” She released my hand, then set off down a corridor, her heels clicking against the parquet.
Play my cards right? Did that mean what I thought it meant? I had a job here? A future?
Chapter 6
“Okay, I’m not sure what you meant by all that exactly, but was that a job offer?”
Thea’s eyes narrowed, the apples of her cheeks lifting as she suppressed a smile. “Not quite yet. There needs to be an – assessment.” She took off down the corridor.
“Wait. Where are we – ”
Thea looked over her shoulder, an impish grin on her lips. “Follow and you’ll see, Mr. Graves.” She gestured here and there at things I hardly cared about – “and there’s a drinking fountain, and the copy machines are through that door if you need them” – and I was certain that she was intentionally avoiding discussing anything that I was actually burning to learn about, like what was up with all the fires, how did the paper do that, and why the hell was that one guy wrestling a book to the ground and wrapping it in chains?
“I’ve already mentioned a few of the different departments. That’s how things work around here. Everyone has some capacity for magic, but we all have our specialties. Those who might do well in combat go to the Hands.”
“Combat?”
“Things can get dangerous, so it’s helpful to have one or two staffers who can throw fireballs on command, or maybe call a lightning strike.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. No way. No fucking way. That sounded awesome, and I knew more than anything that I wanted to be a Hand. Was that why Thea was giving me the guided tour?
“Those who have powers that would help in surveillance – say, scrying – they become Eyes. Communicators like telepaths, they become Mouths.”
I trailed along beside her, digesting every word, watching her face, looking at every corner for the camera team to burst out from behind a bookcase and yell “It’s just a prank, bro.” But no. She was serious.
I cleared my throat. “You mentioned something about Wings.” Did I sound crazy? I was sure I sounded totally crazy, but when in Rome, right?
“Oh, right. Wings. They specialize in transport. Teleporters, mostly. Some can fly.”
“Oh.” Yep. Definitely crazy. “Well, why not Feet?”
Thea’s nose wrinkled as she gave me a wry smile. “Say you had a talent for magical transport. Would you be happy being called a Foot?”
“I suppose not.” I think it was at that exact point that I knew I had snapped. I was agreeing with her, with all this talk of Wings and Hands and, for all I knew, Gizzards and Toes and Livers. She’d used a hell of a lot of capital letters in the past few minutes alone, and I was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be letting up.
“The same goes for the Hounds. They’re field investigators, people who specialize in infiltration, but also in finding and seeking: literally sniffing things out. I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate being called Noses.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice surging with challenge. “Okay, well and good. You’ve got specialists for everything. Fine.” I waved a hand around us. “This place must be expensive to run, so much to account for. Who balances the books? Huh? The Numbers? The Brains?”
Thea spun on her heel and stopped, her expression oddly neutral. She blinked once. “Why, the accounting department, of course. What a strange question.”
I felt myself blush. How was I the crazy one in this situation? Before I could say anything else, Thea put her hands on her hips and looked around us.
“Ah. Looks like we’re in the right place.”
The right place, in this case, being what looked like a room that in all respects was very much like every other we had walked past. Imagine a ballroom that had been cleared of all furniture, its walls stripped of paintings, the floor bare. Just polished wood everywhere in this shiny brown box. It was quiet here, and out of the way. The last person we passed was – well, we hadn’t passed anyone yet. No one even knew we were here.
“The right place? And where is that?”
Thea cracked her knuckles. I swallowed. Nervouser and nervouser by the second.