Page 46 of Double Mager

Morrow squeezed my shoulder. “We need all the help we can get, and she’s already here. You can’t sent the lady home when she’s already dressed for the party.”

“See? Theodore gets it.” Xtra Xtra batted her lashes at him, then threw me the puppy-dog eyes again.

“Fine.” I sniffled. “You’re a manipulative bitch, Xtra. And maybe that’s part of why I love you so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gross.” In a hesitant mumble, she added: “Yeah, I love you too, I guess.”

Angelica strutted forward, chest thrust out, immediately assuming the role of squad leader.

“Heartwarming. If everyone is done exchanging emotions, we have a city-wide threat that needs to be stopped. Or perhaps it’s international at this point. To be determined.”

She and Morrow strode side by side as they led the way to the Happy Links warehouse, the corpo field agents taking the lead. I kept my hands in my pockets, my fingers curling and uncurling as I tried to recall the motions of Freyja’s projectile spell.

She was right, of course. It would only benefit me to learn a couple of basic spells. Too late for that now. And my mimicking talent, par for the course, had already ejected the incantation for the spell from my mind. Some of the words were probably already scrawled on a fresh page in the fragmentablet.

The warehouse resembled any of the others in the compound, unguarded at least on the outside thanks to the boys in surveillance. Whoever was on duty was probably passed out on the cement somewhere, lulled by a sleeping spell.

Morrow muttered into the palm of his hand, one finger on his auricle like he was speaking into an invisible headset. I clenched my teeth, cringing as I expected the shutters to creak and clank open.

But trust surveillance to know exactly the right targets on which to cast their spells. A series of metallic thunks from the side door signaled the sliding of bolts, some padlocks and chains hanging uselessly on its outside. It looked like a pair of bolt cutters had bitten straight through.

The door faintly creaked as it opened into pitch darkness. So far, so good, especially with Occultech surveillance on our side. But I still couldn’t help thinking that this was all a little too easy.

We wove our way among the crates, a maze of pallets arranged all across the floor, dozens upon dozens. Ahead of me, Morrow was already sifting through his bandolier. He’d mentioned bringing a powerful flame spell. Between his scroll and my duplicate, we could start an inferno hot enough to make those dorks at Jackal & Ashby jealous.

In the darkness, I couldn’t help registering the sound of high heels. More power to Angelica and Xtra Xtra if they could fight in stiletto boots. Two pairs of them click-clicked as we steadily penetrated the gloom.

It was the third set of clicks that made me freeze in place.

Someone snapped their fingers. I blinked hard against the sudden harshness of fluorescent light cascading throughout the warehouse. Blinding lights from high up in the ceiling beamed down on us, revealing the staggering breadth of the room, how it stretched impossibly onward in all directions, so much bigger than its concrete exterior would have us believe.

And standing where two lanes between the infinite pallets intersected was Alexandra Thorpe herself.

“Thieving rats,” she said. “I knew I’d find you here.”

She’d spoken with more humor than actual anger in her voice. Because what threat did we pose to her in the first place? She was right. We were rodents, and she was a very large and very hungry cat.

“But how?” Morrow asked, his voice and his faith in surveillance faltering.

This was standard corpo protocol. Surveillance would have probed the area again and again to identify security both mundane and magical, scrambling cameras and nullifying defensive wards. Angelica and Houston would have tapped the equivalent SeraphiCorp departments to scour the premises, too. Clearly, all that preparation hadn’t been enough.

Alexandra laughed. “I am a god, gentlemen. I can be everywhere I like, all thanks to the power that fuels me. My deepest gratitude to the gullible people of Nomicon Valley. All that accidental worship really does keep me well fed.”

“We don’t need a refresher about how you thrive on attention, Loki,” I said. “We’re here to end this.”

The god laughed. “You and what army? All I see is a measly, miserable force of corpo lackeys. I met all of you at the Happy Links Too launch, didn’t I? Ah. But I see that you’ve brought a guest. Are you dressed as some sort of sultry spy? It’s not a very convincing disguise, is it?”

Xtra Xtra’s eyebrow twitched. “Oh, please. As if I’m the only one here who likes to dress as a woman. And didn’t you get railed as a horse that one time? Enough with the shenanigans. Show yourself.”

Alexandra Thorpe grinned. “My pleasure.”

She flung her hand forward. The world rippled as if an invisible veil had been ripped from its hooks, the warehouse warping and wavering as reality itself bent to her will. Lights flickered. The walls cracked. The floor trembled.

Every last crate in the warehouse splintered all at once, unleashing their contents in a tinkling rush. The cement floor disappeared under the tide of golden trinkets. The concrete beams, the lights high up in the ceiling, even the forklift I’d spotted in the corner had vanished. Instead of a warehouse, we were standing in a feasting hall, the cold of cement replaced by the warmth of carved wood, the scent of woodsmoke in the air.

Sitting on an ornate wooden throne was Loki in his true form, the guise of Alexandra Thorpe once again cast aside. But another woman had appeared in our midst.

The Goddess of the Valley breathed heavily as she knelt atop a mountain of charms, sifting through the trinkets with her fingers. Each charm she touched glowed momentarily pink, infused with her magic. Frantically she crawled from one pile to the next, raking her fingers through the endless hoard, like someone on a deadline — like someone spinning straw into gold.