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“At the full moon, under the branches of an ancient oak tree,” I said, still not turning around.
“But which oak tree?”
I stopped and turned back. “I was joking. We’re not meeting. Well, you can meet, whenever you want to. But I won’t be meeting with you.”
I thought I heard a sniggering sound somewhere above me, but I waited until I’d crossed a few streets without being followed and was no longer in sight of the former cultists before I said, “And you can stop laughing whenever you want.”
Sam emerged from behind a sign above the doorway of the building ahead of me. I knew he couldn’t have used magic to conceal himself from me, but I hadn’t seen him following me. “Aw, come on, you’ve gotta admit, you somehow becoming the leader of an anti-magic cult is kind of humorous,” he said.
“By the time I was through with them, they weren’t anti-magic anymore.”
“What happened in there? I saw Arabella Richter come tearing out of there, and next thing I know, you’re leadin’ a parade.”
I gave him a quick rundown on all that had happened. “I’m pretty sure that one of the guys in there was magical, but if he was allowed in the group, he must have somehow managed to fool their device.”
“He coulda used magic to move the needle. We’ve got ways to fool just about anything people have come up with to identify magical folk. Their device may be good at spotting immunes, but it’s useless against anyone who really has powers.”
“So maybe I did recognize him. If I can just connect him to my suspect, then I’ll have made the link.”
“And what suspect is that?” he asked.
I groaned, torn about what to do. “I don’t really want to mention it officially because this person is really well connected, and revealing I’m suspicious might get the whole thing squashed.”
“And you think I’d care about connections?”
“I think you have a job to do and I don’t want to put you in the position of having to hide anything. You were the one who told me not to talk about these people.”
“You mean you’re still thinkin’ about the Mayfairs? Hoo-boy, you’re right to be worried.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
16
“You mean, I’m right?” I said, my mouth going dry. It was good to be validated, but I hadn’t expected Sam to react so strongly.
“We need to talk more about this, and not in public or at the office,” Sam said.
“Then where?”
“You got a problem with heights?”
“Depends on how high.”
“What about your rooftop?”
“I could deal with that.” I paused. “Uh, you’re not going to fly me up there, are you?”
“I’m not big enough for that.”
“I don’t have the key to get to the roof.”
“I can unlock the door for you. Go home, go up the stairs, and knock three times when you get to the roof.”
I hurried home and went all the way up the stairs, passing my floor. At the final door, I knocked three times, as Sam had instructed, and it opened for me. Sam was waiting nearby, perched on an old folding chair. “Okay, we should be able to speak freely up here,” he said. “There aren’t even any pigeons right now.”
“What happened to them?” I was almost afraid to ask.
“I scared them all away. They’ll be back eventually, but we’ll have time to talk.”
