chapter thirty-six

Another wendigo jumped onto the automaton's back, wrapped its arms around the neck, and tried to wrench the wooden head free.

The automaton reached behind, the shoulder swiveling well beyond what any human joint could manage, and seized the attacker by the arm. With no visible effort, it flung the wendigo into the SUV. Metal crumpled from the impact, and the wendigo didn't get back up.

The green-haired libriomancer shouted, "Concentrate on the golem!" She and her two companions ran forward with their books.

The automaton stopped moving.

"How the shit did they do that?" Deb asked weakly.

"I don't know, but they look preoccupied." I raised my gun, sighted through the doorway at the closest of the libriomancers, and pulled the trigger. He must have seen my movement, because he whirled and raised his book. He took a jolt, but not enough to put him down.

The automaton shuddered, then stumbled forward. Green shouted another order. Wooden fingers ripped a slab of blacktop from the road and hurled it at the closest book-wielder. He tried to dodge, but he wasn't fast enough. The missile caught his shoulder, spinning him in a full circle and sending the book flying to the side of the road.

Another burst of flame poured forth, but this time it failed to reach its target. Instead, the fire curved toward the house.

"Oh, crap." I dove into the family room. Lena hurled Deb after me, then rolled out of the way as flame poured through the door. Jeff got a little singed, but the fire wasn't as bad as I feared. Whatever they were doing to turn the automaton's magic against us must have weakened its power.

I snatched up my satchel and pulled out an urban fantasy called Heart of Stone. The pages showed the faintest dusting of char, like someone had rubbed a pencil lead over the inner edges. I had used this book too often in my research, but I needed to understand what was going on out there. I yanked a pair of mirrored sunglasses from the story and slipped them on.

The enchanted lenses darkened my vision and painted a grid of glowing magical energy over the scene on the street. I could see the patches of wendigo skin, burning a sickly brown color that spread through the bodies of Harrison's pet monsters. White light cocooned the automaton, the strands of Gutenberg's magic encasing it in a dense web of power.

None of this was particularly unusual, though I rarely had to sort out so much magic all at once. But where I would normally have seen libriomantic magic pouring from the three books, there was only emptiness, like holes in the surrounding magic. Given what had happened to my spell back in the woods, I

wasn't entirely surprised that those holes formed the outlines of three people standing before the automaton.

Another blast of fire poured forth, and two of the figures moved in unison, stepping into the automaton's magic and diverting it once again. The third joined in as the injured man retrieved his book from the street.

This wasn't libriomancy. The books were…what, exactly? Lamps for magic-eating genies? Charms to allow the ones who carried them to magically project themselves? Were the books simply bodies for a kind of creature we'd never before encountered or cataloged? Or were these the ghosts Nicholas had talked about, the ones who had distracted him from his conversation with Victor?

Two of the wendigos were dragging August Harrison toward a black pickup down the street. I aimed through the broken window and tried to stop them, but they got Harrison around the far side of the truck before I could fire. I adjusted the setting and sent a bolt of lightning into the truck, and was rewarded with the sight of one wendigo leaping back.

Unfortunately, my attack drew the attention of one of the three ghosts, or whatever they were. "Incoming!"

My warning did little good. Nobody else could see the figure that flew through the doorway, hesitated, then dove through Deb's body. Deb's magic dimmed, and she stumbled backward. The ghost continued to swirl around her, feeding on her power. And I had no idea how to make it stop.

Maybe another target would help. I jumped up and sent a volley of electricity toward the battle. One of the two remaining ghosts intercepted the shots, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Deb fall as her attacker turned to me.

I flung the gun out the window. It followed the weapon, and when it finished, not a trace of magic remained in my shock-gun.

A full-sized van, dark blue with tinted windows, screeched to a halt in the middle of the street. The remnants of Harrison's team crammed inside as the ghosts continued to hold back the automaton. The ghosts vanished a moment later as both the van and the pickup truck sped away.

I ran out the door and waved my arms at the automaton. "Stop them, you overgrown pile of Lincoln Logs! Get August Harrison!"

It stepped after the van, then stopped as if confused. The damn thing reminded me of Nidhi's idiot cat, whom I had once observed chasing a fly across the kitchen, only to stop halfway and look around as if she had completely forgotten why she was in such a hurry.

"Go!" I yelled.

The automaton jolted back to life and began to run. It disappeared in mid-

step, reappearing at the intersection in a flash of light. The truck screeched to a halt, but once again the automaton failed to finish the job. It stood dumbly as the van turned left and the truck sped off to the right. It snapped out of its trance again seconds later and resumed its pursuit.

"Not good." I sagged against the wall and turned to look at the damage we had done. Broken glass littered the house. The door was destroyed. The road outside was even worse, from cars that had been ripped apart to the cratered blacktop and smoking yard beyond.