Chapter 17
We decamped for the Council's jet. By the time we completed the approximately eight-hour flight to Peru, it was full dark. We arrived in Cusco as the bars and nightclubs were hopping, and I could tell from the gleam in my traveling partners' eyes that this was not going to be an early night. The energy of the high-altitude city beat like a living thing. Everywhere we went, I could sense the excitement of the hunt mingling tight with the celebration of simply being.
"You know it's not an easy hike to Choquequirao," I warned, though my heart wasn't really in keeping anyone from a beer.
Nikki scoffed. "Yeah, I bet the hike is a bitch for ordinary hikers, what with the two days through the jungle, wild animals and bugs the whole way. If only we had a hike leader who could throw fireballs from her hands to clear our path. And you know as well as I do we can cover that ground in about thirty minutes if we wanted to."
"Which I, for the record, still want to," Nigel put in. This had been a point of contention nearly the whole flight down, with Nigel and Nikki advocating for the fastest approach to the hidden city that his contact had named as Roland's last known location, while the Fool maintained a steadfast insistence on reaching the city on foot. As we approached the brightly lit nightclub closest to our hotel, Nigel continued his lament anew. "We can be careful not to land anywhere we shouldn't, but we have the advantage here, and we should use it. We can even drop in close to Choquequirao without actually landing square on top of it. We've done it before."
Simon shook his head. "And I'm telling you, you're missing the entire point. I've done an extensive study of the secondary stream of glyphs that were on you, Nigel, beneath the message to come save this Roland guy, as well as the ones Armaeus viewed on Douglas Fricker. Both of them are chock-full of warnings not to cut corners. There are a half dozen lost cities that people are going to be descending on—maybe more. It wouldn't surprise me if we've got competition here, though I'm thinking most of them would head for Machu Picchu and the temple of the moon there, not Choquequirao, no matter where Roland ended up. Doesn't matter. If the other hunters see us tearing off out of Cusco like a bat out of hell, it's going to tip them off."
Nigel arched his brows. "I have never rushed off anywhere like a bat out of hell," he informed Simon coldly. "Discretion would, of course, be paramount."
The Fool waved him off. "This isn't your typical hunt. The players or the Connecteds behind them are all going to be higher level, and they'll be attuned to any magic in play. If they detect a disturbance in the Force, they're gonna follow it."
"Enough. We go on foot, as stealthily as possible," I finished the argument when Nigel opened his mouth again. He rolled his eyes, but didn't argue anymore.
"Then tonight, we have a drink," he announced, as if that logic followed. "I've staggered my way through more jungles than I can count half looped out of my mind. I don't need to be sober for this one."
"And we need to meet our guide anyway," Nikki said, the soul of reason. "We don't know, he may want us to take off tonight."
"Perish the thought," Nigel muttered as two young women passed us, laughing and jostling each other as they entered the bar. He glanced their way, and Nikki grinned.
"I don't need to be a psychic to know you're not getting lucky tonight, buddy, so you can give up that idea right now. What's our guide's name again? He's meeting us when?"
The two of them continued their banter as they entered 7 Angelitos, one of Cusco's most famous bars. As had been clear from some distance, the place was rocking with an ebullient band at the front of the building space, while cheek-to-jowl dancers filled every open square foot inside. I could sense the haze of magic in the air as well, a fluttering energy that seemed to shift with the rising tide of humanity.
The Fool noticed it too. "Those are protection spells," he said. "Very low level, frankly, barely more than a mist of Lysol. But effective."
I nodded. The world had become a much deadlier place over the past few years, with illnesses of every stripe striking the unsuspecting. Those establishments that had the ability to keep their clientele safe had become very adept at it. Their methods weren't exactly ones that could be adopted as government policy, but arguably, they should be.
All further conversation among us ceased as we stepped into the chaos.
The place could have been any bar in any city, with loud music, dancing bodies of all ages, and alcohol flowing at an ever-increasing pace. The cool temperatures of southern Peru were nowhere in evidence here, and the sultry air of the bar hung close. Nikki turned to Nigel and pounded him on the shoulder.
"Go take the kid to the dance floor," she said, hooking a thumb toward Simon. "Don't get into any trouble I can't get you out of."
"Hey, you know I was born before either of you assholes, right?" Simon pointed out, but Nigel just laughed and grabbed him by the shoulder, urging him deeper into the room.
"That should prove to anyone that we're here having a good time," Nikki mused, and I glanced around as casually as possible. We'd already drawn the attention of several small groups of people. Their focus became heightened as they tracked Simon across the room.
"There are so many of them," I muttered. "Who the hell thought summoning all these hunters was a good idea?"
"Someone looking to understand the playing field." Nikki somehow had already managed to score two beers.
"Yeah," I agreed, taking one from her. "This does have all the hallmarks of a player who hasn't been paying that much attention, but who now wants to get up to speed quickly. Trouble is, that introduces almost as many questions as it settles. Why was this agent so out of the loop? Why the rush to get up to speed? Who's behind all this?"
The Fool had given us the rundown of possible kingpins from his review of the Shadow Court, but those agents didn't seem to be in motion. This was a different group, I was pretty sure. Or at the very least, an additional group.
"I gotta tell you, dollface, I don't like it," Nikki said with a distinct heaviness to her voice. "I've been tracking what's going on back in Vegas with Dixie and Sariah, and there's a unmistakable sense of anxiety hanging over the Connected there too. Like something big's about to break, only no one knows what it is. If they're feeling it in Vegas, you can bet they're not alone. I think we're going to be facing some clashes between Connected groups, clashes that will eventually draw the attention of local governments, whether we like it or not. That'll put the Connecteds of the world in danger, which at any other time would just result in garden-variety persecution. But now…"
"But now the Connecteds will be coming out in force, and they'll be thinking they can fight back, courtesy of the Shadow Court and all the disinformation they've been sowing." I blew out a breath. "If the Connecteds start a war—or if they're outed during a public war between the Shadow Court and the Arcana Council—they'll be annihilated. And then there won't be any magic left except that belonging to the Shadow Court and their cronies—and those allied with the Arcana Council."
"Pretty much." Nikki took a long pull on her beer.
I rolled my own bottle in my hand, considering. What I'd just said was true, but it still wasn't the entire problem. I'd been sensing it for some time, this growing sense of uneasiness, of outright anger. Some of it had been fomented by the Shadow Court, sure, but some of it went beyond the Shadow Court's influence. There was a restlessness among the Connecteds of the world, a need to be recognized. The Arcana Council had worked for centuries, even millennia, to keep all the various Connected societies under the radar, out of the common view. But the world was a different place from when Armaeus had first taken the helm as head of the Council. Even Armaeus was a different person now, all his centuries of prudence, his careful, methodical steps, giving way to a wilder, even reckless energy. Did he know something he wasn't sharing? And how much would my ignorance cost me?
On impulse, I reached out with my mind, the barest touch to see if I could register the Magician's presence. In times past, such an outreach would always be met with an equal and opposite force, almost too much of a force, as the Magician seemed constantly attuned to my thoughts, my movements, always wanting to understand more about me. I'd had to work hard to keep my mental barriers strong, to keep him out of my business except for when I wanted his attention. Which had been rarely.
Now, however, as had been happening more frequently, there was no sense of the Magician on the other side of my touch, no hint of his focus. I didn't doubt Armaeus's affection for me, so the realization didn't make me angry; it didn't even make me sad.
It did worry me, however. I'd seen the Magician depleted to the point of exhaustion all too recently. Was he doing that more and more? And if so, why? What pursuit was occupying his focus so much that he would allow himself to grow incredibly weak, and what would happen if I wasn't there to heal him in a time of need? Did he even need my healing help as much as he sometimes led me to believe? He was, after all, a master of illusion when he wanted to be. It was not unreasonable to think he'd overstated his need for me, for reasons of his own.
As if this last realization finally broke through the Magician's focus, a soft gentle laugh rippled through my mind.
"Never doubt my need for you, Miss Wilde,"he said. "You will always be my last best defense against any enemy. But look sharp, your guide approaches, and it's…an unlikely one."
Even as he spoke these words in my mind, Nikki shifted beside me, hissing out a low breath as a dark-haired, deeply suntanned man skulked toward us, lean, small, and feral.
"You know him?" she asked, but I shook my head. Nigel had recommended the guy, but I'd never seen him before. Still, his face brightened as he glanced our way and caught sight of us. He moved toward us with the scuttling fervor of a scorpion, and it was all I could do not to edge back slightly as he grinned.
"Good. You're here," he announced in heavily accented English. "I am Emilio. There are a bunch of expeditions starting out tomorrow morning, half a dozen all going the wrong direction, three more going the right one. We start early." He narrowed his eyes at me, then at Nikki, nodded, then he turned toward the dance floor, his head moving quickly from side to side, as if he couldn't scan with just his eyes. He stopped, and I didn't need to follow the line of sight to know he'd pinpointed Nigel and Simon.
"Just the four of you? That's good too. Nigel is a man of his word."
Nikki and I exchanged a glance.
"How do you know Nigel?" I asked.
Emilio turned back to me and placed his hand on his chest, his eyes going to perfect Os as he nodded several times. "He saved my life, nothing less. Didn't have to. Didn't need to. Probably shouldn't have. I owe him for that, and for my entire setup here in Cusco. I would repay that debt by guiding you safely to your destination."
"How noble," Nikki said, with a hint of sarcasm.
Emilio grinned at me, a little more shyly this time. "You don't remember me, Madame Justice. But that job in Rio however many years back, I told Nigel it was a job I needed. You were the better hunter, but I had the graver need. I'd made some bad decisions that came back all at once to haunt me. Of course, even with all that, I couldn't recover the amulet—you did. Nigel saved me from the hunter's cut after that job. Didn't have to. Didn't need to. Probably shouldn't have."
There was no rancor in the man's tone, but I couldn't help the pang of dismay deep in my stomach. Artifact hunting was a cutthroat business, meaning that the hunters who failed their clients often got their throats cut for their troubles. It helped thin the herd and keep competition strong, and it also sent a message to potential hunters that failure was not an option. I'd known on many hunts that I hadn't been the only one looking for a particular McGuffin. I much preferred it when I was, when the artifact was so arcane and elusive that I didn't have competition. Emilio reminded me that that was not always the case, and suddenly, I considered the other hunters on this expedition in a new light.
"Someone's thinning the herd," I muttered. That added yet another ripple to this process. Was this competition solely for profit, or also for strategy?
Emilio grinned. "Don't think I didn't consider that possibility too, which is why I'm happy to be working for your team on this particular hunt, Justice Wilde. We leave at dawn. I'll find you."