“Hello, Mr. Lockerby?” Anne’s frightened voice came through the receiver at him the instant the call connected.
“It’s me,” he confirmed.
“Did you find Leroy?” she gasped, the tension in her voice squeezing the words into frightened squeaks. “Is he with you?”
“No,” Alex said. “When I got to the marina, my rune lost contact with him. I cast another rune, but it couldn’t connect with him either. I think they might have moved him somewhere underground.”
“Mr. Lockerby,” Anne said in a small, desperate voice.
“Alex.”
“Alex,” she amended. “I can’t pay you for the second rune. I had to raid our savings to pay for the first one.”
“Let me worry about that,” Alex said. “Just because I can’t find him with a rune, doesn’t mean I can’t find him. I’m just going to have to do some investigating.”
“I can’t pay you for that either,” Anne said. Alex could tell she was crying now. Alex was tempted to let that stand, but he felt like too much of a heel. He suppressed a sigh as he made his decision.
“I told you that I’d find your husband and that’s what I’m going to do,” he said.
“But how?” There was desperation in that voice, but Alex detected a tiny trace of hope as well.
“I’m pretty sure he’s still alive,” he said. “That means whoever took him needs him for something. If I figure out why they took him, I’ll know where to start looking.”
“Thank you, Alex,” she whispered. “Please find my Leroy.”
“Have faith, Anne,” Alex said, passing on the favorite saying of Father Harry, the priest who helped raise him.
Anne promised that she would, and Alex hung up.
“You’re a good man, Alex,” Iggy said from the kitchen table, where he sat sipping a cup of tea. “You’ll go broke, but you’re a good man.”
“Let me worry about that,” Alex said.
“You don’t worry about money at all,” Iggy chuckled. “That’s your problem. If you didn’t have Leslie around to run your business, you’d have been bankrupt years ago.”
“That reminds me, Leslie’s coming over for dinner this week. When’s a good night?”
Iggy raised an eyebrow at that.
“You know the rules, lad,” he said. “No dinner guests unless they’re extremely easy on the eyes.”
Alex nodded, understanding.
“So Leslie is welcome any time.”
“Exactly,” Iggy said.
“I’ll set it up for tomorrow then,” Alex said, picking up the crate of glassware for Iggy’s alchemist friend.
Alex had to set the crate down to shut the outer door to the brownstone. He didn’t have to lock the door, of course. Only someone with the right combination of runes could open it, and there were only two sets of those in the city.
He picked up the crate and turned to walk down the steps to the sidewalk. As he did, he noticed a long, black sedan that was parked against the curb. An enormous mountain of a man leaned against the fender reading a paper in the bored manner of someone waiting for a bus. Another man stood further up the street, loitering by one of the streetlights.
Alex felt suddenly exposed. He’d left his 1911 in his vault before he left his office, not wanting to have it on his person during his confrontation with Detweiler. Retreating back into the brownstone was an option, of course. These men were big, but they weren’t anywhere near big enough to force their way past the protective runes and wards Iggy had put on the door.
Still, Alex wasn’t too alarmed. He doubted anyone with murderous intent would try to grab him off the street in broad daylight. So what were they here for?
He made his decision and proceeded down the stairs and turned toward the crawler station.
“Are you Alexander Lockerby, the runewright detective?” the man by the streetlight asked as Alex approached.
Alex suppressed a groan, recognizing the name the tabloid had given him.
“Who wants to know?”
The man reached into his jacket and Alex tensed, but he came back with a business card.
“Andrew Barton would like a word. Now.”
Alex knew the name. Everyone in the city knew the name. Andrew Barton was one of the New York six, the sorcerers who made the city their home. Known as the Lightning Lord, Barton was the man who electrified Empire Tower and pushed out wireless power to most of Manhattan. Arguably one of the most powerful, and therefore dangerous men in the world.
And he wanted to see Alex.
“I guess I can make the time,” Alex said with a smile.
7
The Lightning Lord
Empire Tower stood on the south side of Manhattan and radiated its magical energy over the island. It used to be a commercial building, but Barton had bought it and emptied it out for his singular invention, the Etherium Capacitor.
The capacitor drew in power from the universe itself, just like runewrights did to power their magic, but on a much larger scale. Once absorbed, the magical energy was converted into electrical power and broadcast over the island, like radio waves. Anything with a special copper coil in it could receive the wireless power, including magelights, elevators, vacuum cleaners, heaters, and a host of other electrical appliances. Older appliances were simply plugged in to the existing wiring of buildings that now had their own receivers. The only real limitation to Barton’s capacitor was its range. From Empire Tower, the broadcast could only cover Manhattan itself, and the further you got away from the tower, the worse your power reception got. Many homes, businesses, and apartments in the Outer-Ring were still wired to Edison Electric, just like the rest of the city.
Alex could almost feel the energy radiating from the tower when the black sedan pulled up in front.
“Mr. Barton’s steward will meet you inside,” the driver said as the other man opened the car’s rear door.
“Thanks,” Alex said as got out, hefting the wooden crate of glassware. Neither man had spoken during the trip to Empire Tower and Alex was in no mood to force the issue. He was glad that Iggy had helped his tremors, but wondered how he would pay for costly and ongoing treatment, even with Iggy’s help.
“This way,” the big man said, shutting the door behind Alex and moving toward the front doors.
Since the tower was no longer a commercial building, the front had been redone with only a single pair of double doors leading inside. Alex didn’t see any security, but supposed they were inside.
He was wrong.
When the big man reached the door, he grabbed the ornate handle to open it and Alex fell his skin prickle. Some sort of magical ward recognized the big man and the door opened when he pulled. It wasn’t a rune-based ward, but rather the vastly more powerful magic of sorcerers and the energy it gave off made the hairs on Alex’s arms stand on end.
Alex followed the big man inside, through a long, elegantly-decorated marble hallway to a pair of elevators at the back. A half-dozen doors led off the hall to offices that were dark and shuttered. The entire building seemed empty except for Alex and the big man.
Above the elevators at the end of the hall was a massive bronze relief of Empire Tower itself, stretching up over a full story. Art Deco rays of power radiated out from the top of the tower, circling it like a halo. Alex had read a story about the tower in a magazine once that said the elevator symbol pre-dated Barton’s purchase of the tower. It had been that very symbol, the article claimed, that had inspired Barton to use the tower in the first place.
Each elevator had a shining steel door with a simpler relief of the tower on them, power rays and all. His guide pushed the elevator’s call button and another hair-raising burst of magical energy washed over Alex. The simple amount of power used just to make sure the right person pushed an elevator button made Alex jealous. If he had that kind of magical power, he reasoned there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.