It was beautiful inside, the ceiling beams painted glossy black, red silk hangings on the wall, gold accents on small statues and vases. It was empty at the moment, but the tables had white tablecloths and were set for dinner.
“Nice place.” Rory hesitated. “Are you...part of Zhang’s family?”
“Cousin.” She glanced over her shoulder in a friendly way. “I’m not a paranormal, if that’s what you’re really asking.”
She had a soft accent, about as strong as Sasha Ivanova’s Russian one. Rory ducked his head. “But you know about magic? Um...obviously,” he tacked on awkwardly.
“Obviously,” she said, but it was teasing, not mean.
They walked down a hall, past a private eating area with a large circular table just visible behind red curtains. He could easily picture the table full of a big happy family, spinning the lazy Susan in the center to pass the food around. He smiled a little wistfully.
They didn’t go into the kitchen but out to another hall and a staircase. Ling pointed down the stairs, at a plain door with a small woven tapestry hanging at eye level. “The library is in the basement.”
As he started to squint at the tapestry, she waved her hand in front of his eyes “If you try to read it, you’re suddenly going to want to be somewhere else very urgently.”
Roy instantly averted his gaze. Getting trapped in that painting in Luther Mansfield’s house had been enough for one lifetime. “Is the sign enough to keep people out?”
“There are several other types of guardian magic in the library.”
Guardian magic.That was new, but then most things were, at least, since he’d met Arthur.
Ling was looking at him curiously. “But Jianwei says you have control of a relic.”
“Yeah.” Rory stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think that’s guardian magic, though. It mostly just wrecks stuff.”
She grinned. “I was thinking that of how some of the guardian magic would react toyou,” she said, “and to paranormals with magic as strong as yours.” She made a thoughtful face. “Most of it would still keep you out. But we’ve made sure it’s safe for you.”
Behind the door was a basement with an unusually high ceiling, with floor-to-ceiling shelves that must’ve held a couple hundred books, along with three small statutes, an abacus, and two vials of what might have been Pavel’s potions. There were trunks on the floor and velvet curtains covering the high, sidewalk-level windows. In the center, under a brass hanging pendant light, was a large circular table stacked with even more books.
Zhang’s astral projection was hovering by the table, speaking Chinese with a woman older than Jade but younger than Mrs. Brodigan, with black hair styled in a neat bob and reading glasses perched on her nose.
Zhang gestured at the woman. “This is my mom, Mrs. Wang.”
Mrs. Wang took off her glasses. “And you’re the psychometric.”
Rory stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, as the door snicked shut behind him.
Zhang flickered for a moment. “Jade and I are almost here.”
Mrs. Wang pointed at one of the biggest books on the table. “We’re looking for magic that could give someone nightmares.”
Rory stepped to the edge of the table as she turned the book so he could see. The writing was Chinese he couldn’t read, but he could see a drawing of a small pouch on the page. “You think this could be cursing Arthur’s brother? What is it?”
“Spell bag.” She pointed to the picture. “A variant of the potions your alchemist friend makes. But a spell bag would cause more general nightmares, not a specific vision.”
“And I haven’t found any in Arthur’s brother’s office,” said Zhang.
“I could go,” Rory offered. “If I get my hands on John’s desk, maybe I can see something.”
“Perhaps.” Mrs. Wang gestured at the empty seat on her side. Rory awkwardly sat down, very aware that his coat was still mud-stained from his fall on the Hudson River bank and he hadn’t had a chance to patch up the latest rip.
But Mrs. Wang was looking at him with interest, not judgment. “Are you doing all right?” she asked, sincerely. “Psychometry can be an overwhelming ability.”
Rory glanced at Zhang helplessly.
“He’s anchored it to a friend,” Zhang quickly cut in, and Rory relaxed a little at Zhang covering for him. Zhang gave Rory a reassuring smile. “It’s rare, but you’re not the first person in history to do it. Happens sometimes between close friends or siblings.”
“Siblings?” Rory leaned in. “So could Pavel make a link—”
