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“And who has that kind of credibility?” Roger asked.
“You do remember that we have people on the Council. But it’s not your concern. You’re young, ambitious, and bright, but you’re not ready yet. What I need you to do is make money for us. Stop messing around with old spells. You just about tore the connective fabric of our operation apart. You don’t know how close you were to needing to buy an airplane ticket to get home tonight. If you’re making money, we need to start seeing it.” He stood, straightened his suit coat, and left, with a slight nod at me.
If I’d expected Roger to act in any way like a kid called onto the carpet, I’d have been disappointed. He didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he didn’t seem at all cowed, either. “Thank you for keeping your mouth shut,” he said to me. “I never told you that you weren’t to talk about what we’re doing here, but you seem to have picked up on the message. That’s good. You’re smart.”
I shrugged. “
I figured that if you wanted to tell him you’d taken Vandermeer back, you would have told him yourself. It wasn’t my place to do so.”
His face grew uncharacteristically somber. “Do you think this was that critical decision the seer spoke of? Something pivotal was going to happen today. I just wish I knew I’d done it or not done it. I don’t feel like I changed my fate today.”
“I don’t think you’re ever aware of that sort of thing until well after the fact. I’ve found that it’s usually the little things that end up having the biggest impact.” Like deciding to take the subway to work instead of walking one morning. Would I have met Owen and learned about magic, or would they have found me, anyhow?
“Maybe it was learning that I need to get some work done to get inside. I have to bring in MSI before I go charging upstairs to make my move.” His eyes were distant, and I got the feeling he was talking to himself more than he was talking to me. In fact, it seemed like he’d forgotten I was still there.
He blinked, returning to the present, and said, “I kept you away from home all night last night, so why don’t you go home now? You deserve a break.”
“Thank you,” I said. I wondered if I should leave the beacon in his office while I had the chance. Would the MSI gang want to beam directly there, or would it be better if they entered somewhere else and then charged? I was afraid to leave it in my office; if it was found, I’d be in big trouble. That settled it—Roger’s office, it was.
I made sure he was looking down at something, and on my way out, I slipped my hand into my pocket, found the beacon, and brushed against the ficus tree near the door, dropping the beacon onto the soil, where it blended in with the ornamental rocks around the tree trunk.
Now I was dying to know what Owen and the others had planned with that beacon, and I had news for them. As soon as I was home, I rushed out again, calling Marcia once I was back on the street. “I need a meeting with Owen, as soon as possible, and I’m feeling extra paranoid.”
“More so than usual?”
“I met one of the higher-ups today. I don’t know how much attention he paid to me, but he’s definitely suspicious of Roger. If I were him, I’d be watching me.”
“Okay, I’ll get back to you.”
For lack of anything better to do, I went shopping. There wasn’t anything I particularly needed or wanted, but I wanted to be out of Collegium control—out of my home and around more or less normal people. For about an hour, I tried on clothes and ended up buying a few brightly colored things. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to wear black again.
My phone rang, and when I answered it, Marcia said, “Go to Grand Central. I think you know what to do from there.”
I was only a block or so from the subway, so I headed that way. That was when I got the impression I was being followed. I might not have magical powers, but I still felt it when someone was staring at me. Maybe it was simple situational awareness, and maybe it had nothing to do with the Collegium, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Unfortunately, since I was already at the subway entrance, I was committed. Turning back now and changing course would only show that I’d spotted them, and that would prove that I’d been looking for them in the first place.
After going through the turnstiles, I went to the middle of the platform. It was rush hour, so the station was packed. That made it a little easier for me to turn and spot my follower and then keep an eye on him without being too obvious about it. I could hide behind other people and still stare at him without him seeing me stare at him. If I hadn’t been so paranoid, I might not have paid him any attention. He didn’t wear all black or a trenchcoat and fedora, or anything else that made him look like someone who’d be following a person. He just looked like an average guy—an average guy who’d been maintaining a perfect distance of about twenty feet away from me since I first noticed him.
He didn’t act like he thought I’d spotted him. I knew they knew I was immune to magic, so I didn’t think he believed he was invisible to me. He just seemed to think I wouldn’t suspect I was being tailed.
He got on the same car I did, at the opposite end. Even if he’d wanted to reach me, he wouldn’t have been able to fight his way through the sardine can to get to me. I wondered if I should get off at my planned destination. I didn’t want to lead him to Owen, but if I was right about what Owen had planned, that wouldn’t be a problem. It would probably be easier to “accidentally” lose someone in Grand Central than at any other station along the way. If I couldn’t shake the guy, I could always jump on the S train to Times Square.
I wasn’t being strategic when I waited until the last second before getting off the train. It was just so crowded that it took me that long to find an open path to the door. I slipped out sideways while the recorded voice said to stand clear of the closing doors. I wasn’t sure if my follower made it off the train, too, and I forced myself not to look back over my shoulder. Instead, I forged ahead, weaving through the throngs of people and making my way straight for the exit.
I headed to the mall-like area, pausing to browse in the shop windows. In the reflection, I could see that my follower was still there. He didn’t look too concerned. Maybe they were just curious about me or possibly thought that I was on a mission for Roger. Being sent home right after the boss’s visit with Roger must have raised suspicions. Little did they know, I’d come home to carry out my own mission, not Roger’s.
I spent some time browsing in the bookstore—the sort of thing guaranteed to drive a follower crazy with boredom unless he also liked bookstore browsing. He stayed near the front, where I wouldn’t be able to leave without passing him, rather than following me into the shelves.
When I reached the back corner of the store, someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind the shelves. I did a double take when I found myself looking at a near twin of myself.
A longer glance revealed that it was Marcia, her blond hair covered by a brown wig. She wore jeans and sneakers like mine. “Good, you’re dressed the way I guessed, and Owen was right about you hitting the bookstore,” she said.
“This is part of the plan?”
“You said you were worried about being followed.”
“And I was right.”
