Cinza explained the basics, but to Jeremy, it still just sounded like traps—landmines that could easily blow up any poor innocent bystander who happened to wander in the wrong direction too far. Cinza assured him it was virtually impossible unless they were deliberately hunting for the Greywood, but "virtually" didn't sit well with him. The rest of the defense plan went way over his head, as Cinza delved into descriptions of magical interconnectivity and networks of relayed spells tied to trees somehow.

  The gist Jeremy got was: they were certainly ready to react to anything. Whether or not that reaction could actually accomplish something was still up in the air.

  The SUVs rolled down the road, past the remains of the landslide which had once blocked the route to Rallsburg. Jeremy could still tell it was there, but after so many months and rains, the land was smoothing out again. There was a clear line of plants missing and fresh growth, but the blend back into the forest proper had begun in earnest. The place is healin'. Let's keep it that way.

  As they cruised into sight of the town, a rough gravel road curved off to the right. The barricades around the town proper were still in place, and—as promised—the guard in the town had doubled. Jeremy wasn't sure the effort was worth it anymore, since the FBI cleaned out the place so well, but it was better than having it crawling with tourists and pilgrims. Rallsburg had been preserved, every ruin intact, every broken street where a golem had ripped through the pavement in the same place as six months prior.

  Stebbins pulled them off the road well before the faint lights of the camp in the distance. The clock in the dash said seven-thirty, and the darkness outside reflected that all too well. Jeremy squinted forward, but he couldn't make out anything past the lanterns and the brief flashes of light, coupled with smoke of various colors. Jeremy sniffed the air experimentally, but couldn't pick up anything—just the smell of petrichor from the recent rainfall, mixing with the thick scent of the forest.

  Magic smoke don't have a smell, unless they want it to. No real temperature difference either. Weird shit.

  Cinza smiled at the sight of the camp while Makoto and Alden moved up to join them.

  "Beautiful."

  Jeremy rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Together, they trooped forward, while Stebbins and his men moved the SUVs into more discreet parking. Cinza gestured to Jeremy, offering her hand.

  "Do you wish to stay hidden?"

  He shrugged. "Someone should probably stay visible, just in case."

  "As you prefer."

  Alden shook his head at the offer too, to Jeremy's relief. He was worried he'd have to pretend to talk to himself the whole time. Cinza took Makoto's hand. A moment later, they vanished, as if they had never been there. So that's what it looked like when Kendra did that to me. Huh.

  "Shall we?" asked Cinza's disembodied voice, the ethereal echo even more appropriate.

  "This place is a lot like the old market," said Alden as they started walking. They got a few odd glances, more than enough to make Jeremy uncomfortable, but nothing that seemed like an active threat. If anything, the place gave off the same vibe he got from Julian Black's makeshift hidden casino out in the forest.

  "The what?" asked Jeremy.

  "Kendra Laushire's Market," replied Cinza from somewhere on his left. "This exists in our world, of course, but I do see the resemblance." She paused. "You've been here before, Zack?"

  "Alden's fine," he said uneasily. "And yeah. I was here on Tuesday when they grabbed Rika. That's how I ended up in D.C." Cinza didn't reply, and Alden seemed to think she was accusing him. "It's probably my fault. We were going to head back, but I wanted to talk, so we went off on our own without Josh." He sighed. "I mean, they'd probably get her sooner or later, but still… we could've had time to figure out a plan."

  "She will be free," said Cinza.

  ...Shit, doesn't sound like he knows Cinza okayed it, and told 'em exactly where she'd be. Jeremy didn't say anything—he worked for her now, after a sense, and he wasn't about to ruin that relationship only a few days in. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

  "Makoto said you called a few people to meet us?"

  "I did," said Cinza. "They should be here soon."

  "Anyone special?" asked Jeremy.

  "Perhaps."

  He could practically hear Cinza smirk. Shaking his head, Jeremy beelined for the Chinese food cart—damn the magic everywhere, he wanted some good cheap normal food. To his relief, the friendly couple running the thing weren't trying to nickel and dime the market. They sold him a full meal at a pretty good price, considering how hard it probably was to get resupplied this far out from civilization.

  Alden wandered away, murmuring something about wanting to meet up with a friend he'd met previously. Jeremy stuck to his meal, and to his surprise, Cinza had stayed nearby the whole time.

  "Would you mind ordering another and setting it aside here?" she murmured. Cash appeared just under the countertop, which Jeremy quickly snagged out from midair. He did as asked, and the food disappeared in quite the same manner.

  "So how's that work, anyway?"

  "I create an area where photons do not follow the usual rules," she replied. "What you normally see is merely what reflects back to you, but those photons which would have touched me simply pass through unhindered. Thus, you see what would be behind this space, no matter what that is. Anything inside follows this rule."

  "And that affects other people?"

  "Yes, because it is the space, and not the person inside."

  Jeremy finished off the rice before speaking again, quickly grabbing up a couple napkins from the box nearby to clean his face. "So what stops this sort of area shit from bein' able to hurt people directly?"

  "Nothing, except that it would be impossible to force someone to stay within the area." She paused. Jeremy assumed she was eating as well. "We considered using such a method against Jackson, in fact. Hailey would have created a region without air surrounding him to choke him. However, without a way to hold him in place for long, it would not have accomplished much."

  "So you went with the magnetic thing."

  "Exactly. Similar idea, but we created a region of hyper-attuned magnetic force, all pulling in one direction and focused as tight as possible on the target. It would have pulled out all the blood in his body in an instant."

  "But that didn't work."

  "Not because it wouldn't accomplish that result," said Cinza quietly. "We used it on another the day before."

  "...So that's how Paul Wilson died."

  "I assumed she had told you."

  "Think she wanted to try and keep you seemin' innocent," said Jeremy with a shrug. The food cart vendor shot him an odd look. He'd spoken too loud. Jeremy waved him away and dropped his voice lower, trying to move his lips less. "We didn't cover specifics for the riot. I saw the video though."

  "Ah." Cinza paused. "Is that stream still available?"

  "FBI's got it, so yeah. Lani buried it after we met up with her, once we realized what was goin' on, but it's still attached to the case files. Can't delete that. They might bring it up someday."

  "I would like a copy when you get the chance."

  Jeremy nodded. "Anything else you want to do here while we're waitin' for your people?"

  "Waitin' for who now?"

  He froze. Son of a bitch…

  Jackie Nossinger plopped onto the stool next to him, the widest grin on her face. "You look like shit," she said cheerfully.

  "Must be all the politicians," grumbled Jeremy. He glanced over at the cart vendor. "Another one of what I just ordered for the lady."

  "Lady?" said Jackie with a raised eyebrow. "Has it been that long? I ain't no lady. Get your head out of that high society crap, Ashe."

  "Blame my companion," he muttered.

  "Oh, we got a guest?" Jackie glanced around. "Guessin' it's the one and only, then."

  "On the money."

  "Hello, sheriff," said Cinza, her voice now issuing from between the two of them.

  "Nice to hear you too, dear," said Jackie. "Josh should be along in a minute, I think he got sidetracked by somethin'." A minute later, her food slid out onto the counter. "Well, at least you got my order down."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  "Easy when it's the same as mine. I got you to like Chinese in the first place."

  She grinned. "And I got you to like every other damn thing. Call it even?"

  Jeremy threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her for a side-arm hug. "You have no fuckin' idea how long I been lookin' for you, Jackie."

  "And over here I forgot you even existed."

  "Don't you fuckin' start," said Jeremy. "You've been through hell and I've been tryin' to pick up the damn pieces."

  "I saw." Jackie stopped eating and turned to him. "You have no idea how much I wanted to reach out, Ashe. I heard about your partner from Dan and Boris. He pulled through, right?"

  "...Yeah, he did." Jeremy didn't want to elaborate for the moment, too overjoyed to see Jackie to delve back into that particular swirling pit of emotions. "Full recovery."

  "Good shit." Jackie dug back in. "I was up in Vancouver this whole time, to answer that burnin' question in your thick head. Keepin' my head down and keepin' my people safe. Doin' my job as their sheriff."

  "Best one I've ever known, Jackie."

  "Uh-huh," she snorted. "You found a man yet?"

  "Found plenty of men."

  "Get on it, Ashe," said Jackie, starting in on her noodles. "I got a bet to win."

  "...You took a damn bet on when I'd get married?"

  "Yeah, and Maddie's gonna lose."

  Jeremy grinned. "Maybe I'll do it just to win for you."

  "Nuh-uh. Marriage gotta last."

  "Jesus, this is complicated. The hell did you bet?"

  "Doesn't matter, so long as I get to rub it in." Jackie finished off her food and took a long drink of water. "Good shit."

  "Yeah. Thanks again," he added, leaving a tip for the cart vendor as they left. The couple waved after them gratefully as they wandered back into the camp proper. "Glorious leader still nearby?"

  There was no response from Cinza, just the bustle of the people in the camp. Jeremy was starting to build up an estimate—probably a couple hundred people in the whole area, includin' the RV section out there. Three, if we wanna push it.

  "Three hundred," said Jackie with a nod, following his train of thought without asking.

  "You already knew?"

  "Nah, but I know the area. Used to drop by that RV park every couple weeks to check in." Her face got dark. "Original residents are all dead. You don't want to know what happened to 'em."

  "...Just heard your voice this mornin', actually, talkin' about it," said Jeremy. "There was a recordin' of a town hall where you were talkin' about the murders out there."

  "Weren't murders, but yeah," said Jackie. "Those poor kids got 'emselves killed, and then the rest got killed by Omega, since they were outside the protection of the town and whatever deal he made with his counterpart."

  "Jesus Christ…" Jeremy shook his head in dismay.

  "Good to have you on board," said Jackie, and though there was warmth and truth to her statement, Jeremy didn't miss the dark undertone, nor the grim expression on her face. This shit ain't over. We both know it. One threat's gone, more popped up.

  "Tell me about Hendricks."

  Jackie stopped walking. They were next to a tent where a young woman with endless necklaces and bracelets sold charms, gemstones, cheap jewelry and other accessories. Jackie took a few steps away into the makeshift alley between that and a tent where the occasional burst of smoke filtered through the tears in the roof.

  "Brian Hendricks was a good man," she said quietly.

  "...Didn't expect to hear that," said Jeremy honestly.

  She shook her head. "I don't know how he ended up like this. Maybe Omega did somethin' to him, maybe he just went mad. All I know is, Brian Hendricks came to my town four years after I became sheriff, back in twenty-twelve. He was runnin' from an insane wife and circumstances way beyond his control back in Chicago, and he had a little kid in tow."

  "Natalie," said Jeremy, more to confirm than anything.

  "I love that girl like she were my own. Wanted to take her up to Vancouver with me, but we decided it would be easier to get her to school with Kendra backin' her in Seattle. Missed her every day. Made the town feel alive," said Jackie wistfully. "Brian brought her at seven, and she acted like she was just along for the ride, but you could tell. She understood what was up with her mom, she knew why they had to run. It was my job to keep 'em safe."

  She sighed, and from her jacket she produced a hip flask. Jackie only drinks when shit's real…

  "I did, too, you know? When Lori Hendricks tried to come to Rallsburg, I kept her out. Natalie never had to meet her mom again. I could tell from one look she was trouble, and the courts agreed. I had the law on my side, so I had no reservations about givin' her the boot." Jackie took another swig. "Brian and I got along. Wouldn't call us friends—man only had a few of those. Robert, Neffie, Reverend Smith for sure. Boris, probably. Never saw 'em together, but Boris was friends with every damn person in the town. And the Wilson family. All thanks to Natalie."

  "She got him to make friends?"

  "Way I heard it, she introduced him to Robert, and the Wilsons, and after that, he actually got to talkin' to Neffie rather than just workin' her as an assistant. Neffie Bowman was like a therapist to the man after a while." Jackie smiled. "Therapist to a lot of us, to be honest. Kept me sane up in Vancouver, that's for damn sure."

  "Sounds like a hell of a woman."

  "You'd hate her," snorted Jackie. She took another drink. "Brian kept to 'imself. Ran his apartments, called me up when one of the college kids was actin' up, raised his daughter. Only kid in town to be homeschooled. We didn't have a whole lot, to be fair, but the rest got proper schoolin', usin' spare classrooms in the university. Natalie got taught at home. All proper, Brian cleared it with the state and everythin', but still. He didn't want to connect with people."

  "Classic anti-social, then?" asked Jeremy, thinking back to a few of their old cases.

  "Not really. Just… paranoid, y'know?" She shook her head. "Man saw enough already in his life, and that little girl was everythin' to him. I don't know what set him off to joining Omega in the end, but I got a pretty good guess."

  "...The kid who died."

  Jackie shuddered. "Jenny Wilson. Natalie's best friend. You heard the recordin', you know what happened to her."

  Jeremy nodded.

  "Man sees that, done to a girl the same age as his own, her best friend even, and he's already had a paranoid-as-hell life. Omega comes in, wrong time wrong place, convinces him to start this insanity together." Jackie shrugged. "That's my workin' theory, anyway. One of 'em's dead and the other's tryin' to kill us all, so can't hardly prove it anymore."

  "Sounds about right to me."

  "Missed workin' with you, Ashe," smiled Jackie, taking another sip. "Don't miss the city or the murders, but I missed you for sure. How's the big government job?"

  "Which one? The Federal Idiot Bureau or this political bullshit?"

  She grinned. "Well, that about sums it up, doesn't it?"

  An explosion echoed through the lines of tents. A vague cheer followed it. Someone started laughing. Jeremy twisted around, but Jackie put a hand on his arm.

  "We're good. There's someone who teaches that. Costs a hell of a lot and it's hard to do, but it's there."

  "...You aren't—"

  "Nah," said Jackie. "You?"

  "Nope. My partner was, though."

  "...Was?" asked Jackie, frowning. "Thought you said he pulled through."

  Jeremy winced. Shit… wrong word. I can't lie to Jackie. "He did… but he ain't my partner anymore."

  "How come?"

  He held out his hand, and Jackie passed over the flask. Jeremy took a huge swallow before speaking again. He coughed—he'd forgotten how strong Jackie liked her whiskey. "Stabbed us all in the damn back in London."

  "Oh hell," said Jackie. "Take the rest of that, you need it. Got it out of Rika's old stash. I figure I can replace it before she gets back." She glanced over as another explosion echoed through the camp—without an accompanying laugh and cheer this time. "Usually aren't two in a row…"

  The radio at Jeremy's belt squawked. "Boss, come in."

  Jackie glanced down. "You still wear one of those?"

  "Beats cell phones, and we got upgrades from the DOD. They shouldn't be able to jam these." Jeremy clicked the tiny headset in his ear. "Go ahead, Stebbins."

  "Got movement on the perimeter. I thought it was just tourists, but Malich ain't sure. West and him are moving closer. Over."

  "Copy that, Stebbins. Make sure they update you ever couple minutes. Stay in contact. Over."

  "Roger. Out."

  Jackie grinned. "Glad you still remember how to use a damn radio correctly."

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. "After the number of times you beat it into me? Fuck me if I'm ever usin' 'over and out' again in my whole damn life."

  "Got a spare one of—" Jackie cut off, as Jeremy was already fishing one out of his side bag. "Damn, Ashe, you know how to treat a girl."

  "Four of us on the net, plus Makoto's listenin' in too."

  "Sounds good. Standard signals?" Jackie asked while she wrapped up the radio in her ear and clicked the button four times. "Got me?"

  Jeremy nodded as the clicks echoed in his ear. He clicked on his own transmitter. "Team update. We got a fifth, Jackie Nossinger. Over."

  No clicks returned, but that was fine. It didn't need a response, and the click system wasn't really complex enough for anything like that. Four clicks meant a radio check, and not to respond. One click was a silent acknowledgment, if they couldn't respond aloud, while two was a silent negative. Three was a call for help, and anything more than four… well, at that point, Jeremy just assumed they were either in serious trouble or a woodpecker got ahold of the button.

  Speak of the devil. Three clicks echoed in his ear. Jeremy immediately grabbed his own transmitter. "Ashe clear."

  "Stebbins clear."

  "Malich clear."

  Jackie waited, every second more tense than the last, her finger twitching just above the transmit button. She was the newest member of the net, so she would identify fifth in any call out. Makoto wouldn't acknowledge unless specifically called. They were still waiting for West to check in. After a minute of no response, Jackie finally closed off the loop.

  "Nossinger clear," she said gravely.

  Jeremy tried again. "West, this is Ashe, come in."

  No response. Jackie shot him a worried look.

  "I don't know him very well," said Jeremy. "Stebbins vouched for him, and I trust Stebbins with my damn life at this point."

  "Then so do I," said Jackie. She clicked her radio on. "Stebbins, Nossinger. Give me the last known location of West, over."

  "...This is Stebbins. Good to meet you, sheriff. West should have been moving southeast, fifty meters south of Malich's position. Over."

  "This is Malich," cut in the young lieutenant. Jeremy sighed. He'd jumped into the middle of an open communication, when Jackie should have been the next response, and cut her off. It wasn't the worst mistake, but it still created confusion on the net. "I'm moving south now." A beat passed before he hurriedly added, "Over."

  Jackie smirked at Jeremy while they walked fast through the camp, passing tourists and pilgrims alike—the difference was clear simply in how they looked at the tents which taught magic. Jeremy wanted to respond in kind, but something felt off. Jackie hadn't been in the middle of a fight in ages. Jeremy knew she was usually sharp, but her senses had to be a bit dulled from months in hiding, and years beyond as the sheriff of a quiet town in the middle of nowhere.

  Josh Miller appeared out of nowhere at their side as they crossed the camp. "Jackie, Makoto said something was up."

  "Hello to you too," Jeremy grumbled.

  "We aren't sure yet," said Jackie. "One of Ashe's guys didn't call back on the net. Could be nothin', could be somethin'."

  "Should we get ready?"

  "Yes," said Jeremy, before Jackie could respond. After a brief hesitation, she nodded. "Find Cinza and Makoto, right now, and do whatever you gotta do." Josh hurried off, and Jeremy clicked his radio again. "West, status."

  Nothing.

  "Malich, status."

  "Malich. No sign of him. Over."

  "Stebbins, status."

  "Stebbins. Still on the north side. Nothing here. Over."

  Jeremy got to the edge of the camp, and the forest loomed in front of him. The scent of petrichor was still heavy in the air, and the rain was picking up again. The crickets chirped, and a chorus of frogs echoed in the distance. Spice still lingered on Jeremy's tongue from the Chinese food, mixed with the whiskey from Jackie's flask.

  A wolf howled in the distance. A half-lit moon hung above the treeline, lighting up the world in an eerie glow. Jeremy squinted through the dim trees, desperately looking for any signs of trouble, but nothing came back. Beside him, Jackie's hand hovered near her holster, watching every other direction. Jeremy cranked his radio volume up high and increased the gain, hoping for a garbled weak signal, or a whisper of life—anything.

  "West, status," Jeremy called a third time, but the radio only returned painful, empty static.