Jeremy texted Alden as he was leaving the White House (this time through the basement again), and to his surprise, the kid accepted his offer.

  "She told me to," he said sheepishly, climbing into the back seat with Jeremy. The Secret Service agent took off as soon as the door snapped closed, headed for the airport. "Makes sense, I guess. Like you said, I'm kind of a useless witness for her, and I can do more good back home. I told her I'd be back in time for the trial."

  "Welcome aboard," said Jeremy. "Am I droppin' you off at home, then?"

  "I guess. I want to go back to the Greywood first though. You're going there, right?"

  "Yeah. I'm Cinza's liaison."

  "Like… her assistant?"

  "In her fuckin' dreams," grumbled Jeremy. "Just a middleman between her and the White House."

  "So what do you do, then?"

  "Whatever they need me to. Mostly I plan on stayin' the hell out of the way and just passin' messages when they get too annoyed to talk to each other 'emselves."

  "Sounds like an assistant to me…"

  "Difference is, I don't work for her," said Jeremy, while their car pulled up to the waiting jet on the tarmac. I'm really lovin' not havin' to go through the damn airport anymore. Perks of bein' so damn important lately. "I'm there to spy on her, if anythin', and she knows it."

  "And she's okay with that?"

  Jeremy shrugged. "I think she knows I won't say a fuckin' word unless it's serious. I don't care about the little things, and it's way too much paperwork to worry about."

  Alden grinned. "So you're just lazy."

  "Damn right." The Secret Service agent popped the door open for him, and Jeremy climbed out. "Come on, kid. Time to go home."

  As they entered the mostly-empty cabin, Cinza glanced up with surprise. "Alden?"

  "Hi again," he said nervously.

  "I wasn't aware you were even in town."

  "I got picked up with Rika."

  Cinza frowned. "Why on earth did they arrest you?"

  "...I told them to."

  Makoto looked like he might laugh aloud. Cinza visibly suppressed a smirk. "It's good you're back among us."

  "Thanks."

  Jeremy glanced up at the cockpit. "Can we get movin' already?"

  On cue, the staircase pulled away and the door sealed up. Seatbelt signs flashed up as the plane began to rumble slightly, taxiing out onto the runway. Jeremy quickly took his seat, Alden plopping down across the aisle and pulling out a pair of earbuds from his pocket. Cinza leaned back and closed her eyes, perfectly relaxed and calm, while Makoto clutched the seatrests a little more tightly than before.

  He's got the right fuckin' idea… Jeremy copied all three of them, closing his eyes and putting some music in his ears, all while holding on for dear life. Fake ground. It's fake ground, just like I told Hailey. He felt far more nervous and uncomfortable than usual, though, and he wasn't exactly sure why. Something about his day was bothering him too much to sit still and relax, even as the plane reached cruising altitude and leveled off, so he could forget he was in the air.

  An attack involvin' golems two days ago… Cinza mentioned awakened were there. How didn't I hear about that? He took out his earbuds and sat up straight.

  "Cinza," said Jeremy. She opened her eyes and glanced over, curious. "Where was that meetin'? The one you said two awakened got attacked at."

  "West Olympia, I believe," said Cinza, frowning. "I only heard about it secondhand. Why do you ask?"

  "First meetin' was in New London, tiny place west of the forest, by all the rumors. Then Aberdeen is the next one we heard about, and then the assassination attempt in Satsop. Now he's in west Olympia. He's movin' east. Could be a pattern."

  "Hm." Cinza nodded. "Are we certain he was actually at this meeting, though? I was informed golems were there, but Brian could have given the summoning rod to a trusted subordinate."

  Jeremy shook his head. "Man wouldn't let go of the damn thing when I met him. No way he'd let anyone touch it, even his own mother."

  Cinza shrugged. "We've never been certain of the range he can utilize it, either. After all, he was nowhere to be seen back in October when he attacked the bar in Tacoma."

  "He was there," said Alden quietly, joining the conversation. His expression was dark and clearly unsettled.

  "In Tacoma?"

  "No, in Olympia. The meeting was in an old church on Jenkins Road. Me and Jonathan Hudson were the two who got attacked."

  Cinza frowned, not saying a word. Her eyes were darting slightly back and forth, focused on some distant point in the sky, as if deep in thought.

  "The hell did you go there for?" asked Jeremy, raising an eyebrow.

  "Didn't mean to," mumbled Alden. "Jonathan was driving and I was half-asleep…"

  Jeremy sighed. "...'Course he went there. Fuckin' moron…" He leaned back in his chair again. "You both okay, though?"

  "Yeah. We got out okay. I don't know why, but… well, we just got lucky, I guess." He looked uncomfortable again, and looked back toward his window, out into the wide blue expanse. "If Hailey had been there, maybe we could have…"

  Jeremy didn't answer. Cinza said somethin' earlier… She said the goddess helped them escape. I thought she was bein' metaphorical or some shit. But… how the fuck else would this kid get away? Jonathan ain't got anythin' besides tricks, and Alden fell apart the last time he ran into those golems.

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  "How many were there?" asked Makoto, looking back over his shoulder at them.

  "A few hundred?" Alden guessed. "I couldn't really count, I was trying to stay quiet and get out as soon as I could. The place was pretty full though."

  "Odds are most of 'em are slacktivists at best though," said Jeremy, trying to reassure the worried looks on both of their faces. Cinza was still deep in thought and ignoring them entirely. "They won't come out to an actual fight, or they'll bail at the first sign of real trouble. Hendricks is used to the guys he found, tough shits with real hate in their guts. These are lots of middle-class assholes who've never seen a real brawl in their lives. They won't be ready for shit."

  Makoto frowned. "You might be surprised."

  Alden nodded, shivering slightly as he spoke. "...Everybody in Rallsburg was ready to kill when they were pushed too far."

  "Nah," said Jeremy, shaking his head. "Difference is, they were pushed up against a damn wall. Defense, not offense. It's fight or flight, and Jackson took away their flight. All they had left was fight, they just got pushed toward the wrong people."

  "I hope you're right."

  Me too, kid. Me too. Jeremy nodded. "There's still gonna be the hardcores, and we'll deal with 'em. But the masses ain't gonna rise up." He leaned back in his chair, put his earbuds in and tried to relax again. The masses ain't gonna rise up… but then again, witches and shit are one of the better ways to rile 'em up. God, I hope we ain't that stupid anymore…

  We're probably fucked.

----------------------------------------

  The plane landed at SeaTac around five o'clock in the evening. Jeremy called up Stebbins for a ride, while Makoto and Alden stretched from sleeping on the ride. Cinza hadn't slept the whole way, though she did mumble to herself a few times inaudibly, only the whispery echo of her strange altered voice reaching Jeremy's ears.

  Two SUVs pulled up—the first driven by Stebbins, the second by the lieutenant from the Tacoma standoff, of all people. Jeremy glanced at him pointedly as Stebbins hopped out.

  "He's good, sir."

  The lieutenant walked over to join them, while the other men expertly secured the perimeter—even at SeaTac on a private runway cleared personally for them, Jeremy appreciated their vigilance. No clue when they might decide to jump us, or a golem might grow out of the damn tarmac. Fuckin' magic.

  The lieutenant surprised Jeremy by throwing a sharp salute. "Special Agent Ashe, Alexander Malich. I'd like to formally apologize for my conduct in our previous operation, and I am hereby granting you full authority over myself and my men. Use us however you need to, sir."

  "...You don't have to salute me, kid," said Jeremy uneasily. "I'm not in the damn chain of command."

  "Yes, sir." Malich dropped the salute. Stebbins was grinning behind him.

  "You here for revenge, Malich?"

  "No, sir. Here to do the job."

  Jeremy nodded. "Good." Don't need a fuckin' hothead tryin' to fix his wounded pride. "Well, let's get out of here. We've still got a long drive back to Rallsburg."

  "Yes, sir."

  They split up—Cinza and Jeremy in the lead car, Makoto and Alden in the tail. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Cinza's choice, but she quickly shook him off before he could say anything. Once they were inside and moving, she turned back and answered before he could even ask.

  "If one of us is hit, the other can report back and make sure the Greywood does as it needs to. Besides, Makoto is an excellent source of calm, and Alden looks as though he's still completely in over his head. I thought it best they stay together for the time being."

  Damn. "Smart thinkin'."

  Cinza glanced at the heavy tint in the windows. "Are there any tools that will allow them to see through this?"

  Jeremy shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Never had anythin' when I was on the force. Maybe some military shit."

  She leaned forward to speak to Stebbins in the driver's seat. "Take us on the normal road to Rallsburg, please."

  "Thought we wanted to go north and come in from the east, offroad," said Jeremy. "Avoid potential ambush."

  "We flew on a non-government jet and did not enter the public airport," said Cinza calmly, leaning back in her seat again and brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I do not believe anyone will think we've returned yet, particularly since we weren't expected home until Saturday evening at the earliest."

  "Still takin' a risk."

  "Every day is a risk," said Cinza. "I wish to see the pilgrimage for my own eyes."

  "The what now?"

  "There is a camp near the town ruins where pilgrims of magic have been gathering. They trade food and supplies, and teach each other magic. They've formed a community. My people have visited them a few times in secret."

  "And now you're thinkin' it's time for a grand entrance?"

  Cinza smiled. "Nothing so bold yet. I will be invisible while we explore. It will be a good opportunity to practice my abilities."

  "You're pretty weak lately, aren't you," Jeremy commented.

  She raised an eyebrow. "You noticed?"

  Still assumin' I don't know shit. Catch up, girl. I've been doin' this shit a long time. I can figure out some things for my own damn self. "Guess so." He shrugged. "I know everyone's a bit different, but you get tired faster than I'd expect. Way worse than how she described you."

  "She meaning our mutual tall friend, I presume," said Cinza with a knowing smile.

  "...Yeah."

  "I'm glad she found herself again, even if it is not what I would have hoped for." Cinza sighed. "You're correct. She was not aware how much the ritual to kill Jackson had taken from me, nor how long it required to recover. I am recovering, but it has taken months of hard work. You might think of it as therapy of a sort, though magical rather than physical or mental."

  "And you're gettin' your strength back."

  "Precisely. In the first month, I could barely cast a simple spell. I hid this from Rachel—that first night, the magic was entirely cast through the efforts of my family, with only the smallest guidance and shaping through my own skill."

  "So you can just share magic?"

  "In a sense, yes. It is difficult to describe unless you have felt it, but in essence, Ruby or another of my family would grant me their energy, and I take it into myself to shape as I desire into whatever magic I wish."

  "But doesn't that break…" Jeremy paused. "Mason's Law. The whole fuckin' no-magic-on-other-people shit." My favorite part of this whole damn adventure. If someone could just snap their fingers and break my neck, I'd be on the other side of the planet right now.

  "The magic never enters me. If I do not use it, it would dissipate. They could not give me energy to sustain my life, for example, unless I found a way to heal myself using it." Cinza frowned. "That would be useful, actually. We should be researching that. I'll ask Brittany and Josh to start when we get to the Greywood."

  "You never thought to include healing in your damn spellbook?" asked Jeremy, raising an eyebrow.

  "We assumed it would be impossible, or impractical at best," said Cinza. "Since the person injured would be the one who needs to cast the spell. The laws of energy still apply to a degree, so any energy expended to heal would likely counteract the life regained as a result. Beyond this, there are so many things that can go wrong. Imagine self-surgery with the capability to reach any part of your body at any time. Brain damage or permanent disability are certainly possible. But if in dire need, and we combine it with sharing…"

  "Could've saved some lives," said Jeremy quietly. "More than once."

  Cinza nodded, her eyes softening. Neither of them wanted to say her name, but both knew exactly to whom he was referring. "You're right. I don't know why we didn't think of it. No one has invented consistent healing methods, but we can start the research."

  Self-obsessed, every last one of you, that's why. Even with all your damn rhetoric, you're hung up on your own image. It just happens to coincide with helpin' your family most of the time. Jeremy was getting a clearer picture of Cinza every day, and while he liked parts of what he saw, he definitely wasn't sold on the whole package yet.

  "What's our next step?" he asked. More than anything, Jeremy wanted to get an impression of what Cinza's real plans were. He fully expected something vague, or at least misleading, but he was confident he could read between the lines.

  "Precisely what I said in London," Cinza replied. She turned to Jeremy with a steely glint in her eyes. "Prepare for war. Brian heard my declaration and has responded in kind. We must do the same."

  "So what does preparin' for war look like in your book?"

  "If you had attempted to enter the Greywood without one of us, you would have witnessed the breadth of our power."

  Jeremy frowned. "So you're settin' traps."

  "In a manner of speaking." Cinza glanced up front. "Your man is trustworthy?"

  "Only damn person I trust still in the state, unless Jackie's around somewhere."

  "The sheriff is actually in the Greywood," said Cinza. "She arrived earlier this week."

  "...Well shit." Jeremy settled back into his chair. "Now I'm actually lookin' forward to this trip."