I They, too, were to be sacrificed as the druids sought to end human lives for the magical energy that would K" released. Deliberate, cold-blooded human sacrie. Black magic of the worst kind. It was all too horrible to believed. If it could be elieved.
"I don't like what you are showing me, Dodger. I don't like it at all."
"Neither do I, Sir Twist. 'Tis what I feared, though. Suspicion of this evil drove me to deceive you. Had I simply told you about it without evidence, you would have rightly scoffed."
The elf so casually admitted his toying with Sam's belief in his honesty. Hadn't they been friends, shadow brothers? Where was the elf's trust? Didn't he think he could be open with Sam? Sam had considered Dodger a friend ever since the elf had helped him after his escape from Renraku. How had he deceived himself into believing that this elf was his friend? Friends didn't lie to friends. Friends didn't deceive friends.
He let his bitterness fill his voice as he said, "You deceived me right into helping them with their foul magic."
"I had thought that we could stop it from the inside," Dodger said forlornly.
Sam couldn't help but wonder if the hint of regret he detected in the elf's tone was real. If it was real, did the elf regret what he had done or did he regret the lost opportunity to work against the druids? Did it matter?
"Well, we're not inside anymore, and I don't see how we can stop them. If the druids mean to try their ritual on the Solstice, there's no time left. We're thousands of miles from our home turf. We've got no resources but what we're carrying, and some of these druids are the heads of major corporations. They could put out a contract on us and the bill would show up in petty cash. What could just the two of us do?"
"I have friends in London."
"Why am I not surprised? Why didn't you just take on these druids with them? Or was it too much fun to dupe the norm?''
Dodger sighed. "I thought you would understand. I thought that you would see the need to stop these people."
"Oh, I can see the need to stop them, all right," Sam snapped. "Anyone planning their kind of evil magic must be stopped. I would think so even if you hadn't dragged me into the middle of this. You could have just asked me, but instead you had to play the puppet master. You made sure that I was involved, didn't you? You made me a party to their crime."
Dodger straightened away from Sam's accusing finger. "We both became involved inadvertently, Sir Twist. I will not take your guilt on my shoulders alone. You agreed to and completed the snatch on Sanchez before anyone knew what these druids planned."
Dodger was right about that. They had gotten involved before Dodger had shown him the false list. Sam had been the one who had arranged the run with Mr. Johnson-Glover. Dodger had had nothing to do with it beyond his decking responsibilities.
If Dodger hadn't led him into sticking with Glover, Sam might never have learned of the druids' plan until after they had performed their sacrifice. Then, he would have been an accessory without any chance to avert the crime. As things stood, he had a chance to rescue Sanchez and Corbeau and the others. Were Sam's hurt feelings worth people's lives? "Your London friends have resources?" Dodger nodded.
"Then we'd better figure out where and how to apply them."
Dodger offered a tentative smile. Sam returned it,! offering a truce. Once the druids were foiled, there would be time to sort things out. Until then, there was
I work to do. Constant argument would not get it done. "I will contact my friends immediately," Dodger said.
"Hold on. I want to make sure we are in agreement as to exactly what is going on. We can't know what we need to have until we know what we need to do. I want to have as little involvement with your 'friends' as possible."
"Very well, Sir Twist. I trust you will evaluate the problem clearly. I trust you."
Dodger paused, offering Sam the opportunity to make a statement of reconciliation. Unready to do so, Sam let the silence grow. Dodger cleared his throat and said, "So, Sir Twist, where shall we start?"
"If this ritual involves the shedding of royal blood, it is designed to channel a lot of power. That kind of magical energy needs to be confined and focused. They would need a special ritual site, someplace that would allow them to concentrate and then direct the energies they unleash."
" 'Tis a reasonable conclusion. From the look in your eye, Sir Twist, you have a thought."
"Yeah. Remember what I told you about the druids being something of a religion?" "Yes."
"Well. Religions have holy places and an important shrine would seem a likely place for their ritual. For the druids, holy places were groves of trees and circles of stones. Once Britain was dotted with them. By now though, most of them are gone."
"Mayhap archaeological survey records?" "It would take a lot of time to sort through. England's got a lot of history. Besides, we don't really know what might be druidic and what's not. We could play guessing games for days."
" 'Twould seem that there is no other choice." "I recall a theory that stated all magical places are connected magically. According to the model, there are connections between such places through which mana can flow, sort of like datalines in the Matrix. Once the magic came back, some magicians found that these connections actually worked sometimes, allowing spells to be cast beyond normal parameters. Nobody really understands what these mortalities are or how they work, but most of the research was done in Britain since there seems to be a high concentration of them crisscrossing the island. A lot of the pathways coincided with a network of religious and archaeological sites charted about a hundred and fifty years ago by a guy named Watkins. His charts don't match the modern ones exactly, I don't know how; my memory's kind of fuzzy on the subject. I do remember that these pathways use the name he coined, ley lines. If we can find where bunches of these ley lines meet, we might find a likely place for the ritual."
"Render unto me the references for the magical texts, Sir Twist. If they are on-line, I shall strip them of the pertinent material and mate the data with current orbital cartography. Within half an hour, we shall have a map of places of power and the highway of your ley lines."
In manipulating the Matrix, Dodger was as good as his word. Using a hookup to the squat's trid unit, the elf displayed the map he had constructed with his cyberdeck. Sam stared at the screen, scrolling the image and tracing the lines. Line after line converged on a nearby nexus, but the node was small compared to a greater one to the southeast. He checked the map reference and sighed. He should have known from the start, but how could he have been sure that it was I still there? So much had changed in the world, so many antiquities destroyed, and England had seen its share of turmoil. But the site remained. And it was only two steps from a minor nexus at Glover's mansion.
Sam tapped out commands on the cyberdeck's keyoard, expanding the image until a ghostly picture of sarsen stones filled the image area. Dodger's eyes widened in recognition. "Stonehenge," they said together.
Hart knelt by the heel stone. She had felt the power of the place as soon as she entered the avenue. Even at a distance, astral perception had been difficult; this close to the henge the residual energies produced a kind of glare, effectively cutting off that avenue of scouting. Cautiously, she rose and moved ahead. At the slaughter stone, she cut across the path and slipped down into the ditch. She worked her way past the north barrow before cutting in toward the megaliths of the inner rings.
She halted almost at once.