A Night at the Opera (Harlem's Deck 7) Page 3
his palm. A rich suit of red and black clothed his handsome figure, minus the cape that she'd seen on cheaper faux-antiquarian decks. She smiled faintly as the memories rose unbidden, of Saturday afternoon's spent browsing the Wiccan book stores of the Old Quarter. What Elliot teasingly referred to as her 'miss-spent youth'.
She shook her head, dispelling the memories.
About the Magician's person were secreted the symbols of power: At his belt, a sword. Whilst a coin hung from the chain about his neck, worn outside his shirt and tie. He was examining the heart-shaped watch that he held in his other hand, hung from a chain linked to his breast pocket. Whilst the head of a wand protruded from the pocket of his trousers (this last always amused her).
It also entertained her that anyone coming casually upon this scene would assume the cards were the wrong way round, given the gender implications present.
“It's not...”
“-I know,” she cut Elliot off, glancing at him apologetically.
He nodded, knowing enough not to probe further on the subject. Even after all these years it was a time in their lives none of them really discussed. By mutual consent. Too much discord.
“What's all the noise about...”
The last word trailed off as Jaret came to a halt in the doorway, towel draped about his shoulders where he'd been drying his hair. Job half done, it stood out at the front in a tufty brush that took years off him.
For the second time this evening Annalise found herself reigning her feelings in. Damn him. She covered by gesturing to the bed, taking his eyes off her.
Jaret started, attention snapping up to his adopted brother.
“It's not,” he reassured him, glancing at Lise. “They're charged, but otherwise harmless. No coiled symbiote here, just a nasty shock for anyone who touches them. Will have to work out what the charge is tied to though.” He narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. “The danger is not so much them, as the fact that they are here.”
Jaret nodded, his initial shock quickly shed. “A turncoat.”
Elliot turned to the crow. “You said you were tracking a name?”
Daiko bobbed his head, glancing about at the assembled. “I heard a whisper. Some errand boy in his cups, boasting about his mark nearly shitting himself when he handed over a copy of 'the deck'...” (the quote marks were mimed with his wings) “...Knew it had to be aimed at us, at you.” He tossed his beak in Jay's direction, earning a grunt of acknowledgement. Annalise bowed her head in thanks as the handler's smoking eyes turned her way.
“So we what? Go through the household staff?”
“Seems the most likely source,” Elliot replied regretfully. “First things first though.” Stepping forwards he raised the sword tip, used it to spear first one then the second of the cards, lifting them swiftly away from the bed as they sparked into delicate flame about the holes. The blade had gone an unearthly colour, as if reflecting moonlight, and she thought she caught the faintest of songs just at the edge of hearing.
Elliot's eyes darted to the doorway, tracked across the floor, his stance gone ridged. The inner light they gave off amped up, so that they looked like car headlights in fog.
“What is it?” Jay asked.
“Perimeter breach,” Elliot replied. “I think our culprit has just been given up involuntarily. Oh shit – Daiko!”
The Crow lofted to Elliot's waiting arm as he sprinted from the room, trailing the last embers of the dying cards.
“What is it?” Jay called, running after him into the corridor beyond. Lise gave chase, unwilling to be excluded.
“Wards have just been circumvented,” Elliot called over his shoulder as he sprinted away. “The cards were the catalyst, but the translation occurred where ever our man is.” He paused at the head of the stairs, turned back. “Somebody obviously didn't want them to talk.”
“What can we do?” Jay asked.
“Close the doors and lock them. There's emergency salt in the wardrobe. Make a circle and stay in it. Do not attempt to leave until I tell you to. Remember our protocol.”
Jay nodded, pulling Annalise back into the room with him as Elliot disappeared down the stairs towards the sound of increasing violence.
Oh shit, she thought as she crossed the room, digging out the ugly silver pale. Jaret joined her as she made a broad circle on the carpet, sinking to the floor opposite her. Worry was written in clear lines across his brow.
You and me both, my love, she thought, you and me both.
It was only later that they discovered there was a third card waiting atop Elliot's bed amidst a scatter of alien-looking Hellebore. Blind Justice stared sightlessly up at him, swords at the ready, the sunset at her back.