“Naah. Eat without me.” I stretched my shoulders a bit, gave him a quick hug, and headed to our bedroom.
“Red Horn kills people,” Thomas said behind my back. “Your wife…”
“Will enjoy the exercise,” my husband said. “You know what they say. Happy wife, happy life.”
Five minutes later I walked out wearing my work clothes: a pair of jeans loose enough to kick someone taller than me in the face, a gray T-shirt, and a pair of soft boots. I wore a utility belt on my waist and a sword sheath on my back. The handle of my sword protruded over my shoulder. I’d braided my hair, and there were two throwing knives and a Bowie in the sheath on my thigh.
I gave Curran a quick hug.
“Don’t forget,” he said.
“Low profile. I remember.” I turned to Thomas. “Let’s go.”
Thomas looked at his brother. Paul spread his arms and shrugged. Thomas looked at him, looked at me, and fell in step.
“Did you bring a car?”
“I rode a horse.”
“Good. I like horses best.” They always worked.
The world skipped a beat. Technology coughed and died, and magic flooded us in an invisible wave. Colors grew a little brighter, sounds became a little louder, and things came into sharper focus. For as long as the magic held, guns would not fire, electric bulbs would remain dark, and monsters would spawn in the darkness. I looked up at the horizon.
“I still think this is a terrible idea, Mrs…”
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “Like Curran said, I need the exercise. And, please, call me Kate.”
As I watched my wife ride away, I knew our life of quiet anonymity here was over. Despite her promises to the contrary, whatever she did would be loud and messy. It was time to find my son.
“What do you think she’s going to do?” Paul asked.
“She will find the hornet’s nest and set it on fire. When the angry hornets fly out, she’ll poke them with her sword.”
“You don’t seem that worried,” Paul said.
“I’m not. She’s almost as good as she thinks she is. Don’t tell her I said that. Seriously.”
We watched Kate and Thomas riding away some more.
“Why Red Horn?” I asked.
“Who knows?” Paul shrugged. “Mess with the bull, get the horns? They are a vicious bunch, I can tell you that.”
They’d have to be to steal a child.
“Okay. Umm,” he hesitated.
“What is it?”
“My family, we don’t have a lot of money…”
I waited and said nothing.
“I can give you a good deal on the renovation, maybe.”
“No need. We’ve already agreed on a fair price for this.” I waved my arm to indicate my fortress in progress. “That’s settled.”
“Well, is there anything we can do?”
I locked eyes with him and put a little bit of weight into my stare.
“Yes. You can go and get your family and bring them here. Paul, listen carefully. When I say family, I mean everybody. Your family. Thomas’ family. Close friends, people you care about. People who could be hurt or threatened to get at you. Do you understand?”
He almost staggered back. I may have overdone it a bit, but this was important.
“Yes. I can do that.”
“Good. Go and do it now. I’ll keep Jason here. He can help my son and I prepare.”
“For what?” he asked.
“A siege.”
“A what?”
“Paul, we don’t have a lot of time. Kate is going to do what she does. She’s going to ask some very dangerous people some very pointed questions about who took your nephew and why. People will get hurt; some may die. Their friends will want revenge. They will look for her. And you. And your family. If you and yours are here, I can keep everybody safe. Please go and get them. Now.”
He left without any more questions. Now I needed to find Conlan. We had a lot of work to do, and I needed to explain some things.
The wind was blowing in from the sea. I followed his scent to a rope tied to a beached tree on the shore. At the other end of the rope, about forty feet out, was a “boat” my son had found and repaired.
Grendel turned at my approach, saw my face, and lay down in the boat with only his eyes visible. Grendel was a smarter-than-average dog.
The boys’ backs were turned to me, as they were staring out to sea and the adventures that waited there. I pulled the rope. Hard.
The boat rocketed back to land.
Conlan hit the sand before it did, landing in a crouch.
“Wow,” Jason exclaimed. “Your dad is strong!”
“And quiet,” Conlan said. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“I didn’t want you to know. We can talk while you clear the lumber in front of the fort.”
“Are you in trouble? I didn’t want to get you in trouble.” Jason turned to me. “I can go home, Mr. Lennart.”
I didn’t believe in lying to children.
“Nobody is in trouble, Jason. You’re staying here. My wife is going to find your brother. The people who took him won’t like it, and they’ll come back here tonight looking to even the score.”
A golden light rolled over Conlan’s irises.
“Yes, we’ll get to that,” I told him. “But if we’re having guests, even uninvited ones, we need to tidy up the place. The space in front of the wall is a mess.”
“We’re cleaning up for the bad people?” Jason asked.
Jason was young and had been through a lot recently, so I couldn’t blame him if he was having trouble keeping up. That was okay—my son understood me just fine.
“He means that there are plenty of places for the bad people to hide behind. He wants to see them sneaking up on us.”
Understanding dawned on Jason’s face. “My family…”
“Will be safe behind the walls. Your father is fetching them back here. Everything will be alright. Meanwhile, you can help us get ready.”
2
When humans had prophesized about the Apocalypse, we had always expected it would be fast. Oh, there would be war and natural disasters and other preliminaries that might take their time, but the actual moment when the world ended would be swift. A rain of fire, a nuclear mushroom cloud, a meteor, a catastrophic volcanic eruption… And when magic hit us for the first time, it had delivered exactly what we anticipated.
Planes fell out of the sky. Electricity shorted out. Guns stopped working. Ordinary, normal humans turned into monsters or started shooting lightning from their fingertips. Ravenous mythical creatures spawned out of thin air. For three days the magic had raged, and then it vanished, leaving a mountain of casualties in its wake. Just as the world reeled and tried to pick up the pieces, the magic came again, and the slow crawl of the Apocalypse began.
We called that first magical tsunami the Shift, and everything after post-Shift. Magic flooded our world in waves, without warning, smothering technology, gradually chewing skyscrapers into dust, and slowly but surely changing the very fabric of our existence. Landscape, climate, flora, fauna, people—nothing was left untouched. Nobody could predict how long the waves lasted or how intense they would be. Over the past half a century, we learned to live with it.
Wilmington had fared better than most cities. Certainly, better than Atlanta where we came from. For one, it was a century and change older. Being older helped. And it wasn’t nearly as built up as Atlanta, where the once-glistening office towers and high-rises lay in ruins. Magic had taken a solid bite out of the city but didn’t quite reduce it to rubble.
Wilmington hadn’t escaped unscathed. Some of the taller buildings had fallen. The Cape Fear Memorial Bridge was no more. It had collapsed in that first magic wave. The Murchison Building had slowly turned to dust until it finally imploded. The spire of the First Baptist Church, once the tallest point of the city, had broken off one day and crashed onto the street, killing several people. But the main damage had been done by floods.