Black Magic Sanction Part 6

The heat was on against the damp chill in the low-ceilinged room where we ate, but I still felt cold. It was noon according to the clock past the gates that separated us from the kitchen, but it was three by my internal clock, and I was hungry. The scrambled eggs in front of me were not going to pa.s.s my tongue, however. They looked good enough, but the sulfur in them would give me a migraine. It smelled funny in here, sort of a mix of dead fish and decayed redwood.

Depressed, I picked at a piece of toast, thinking the b.u.t.ter tasted off. Not enough salt? Not enough salt? I wondered, dropping it. I almost wiped my hands on my spiffy-keen, orange jumpsuit, but stopped at the last moment. Not knowing when I'd get a new one, I licked my fingers instead. Across from me was my upstairs neighbor, a sallow-looking witch who had ignored me so far as he dipped his toast into his coffee before eating it. To my left was Mary. I'd met her earlier by way of conversation around the wall between us, and my first sight of her had been a shock; the woman was so thin she looked ill. To my right was a middle-aged guy who never spoke. Most everyone was talking. Alcatraz wasn't a big place, and it was kind of... homey. Maybe it was because we were on an island with no ley lines, surrounded by salt water. There simply was no escape. I wondered, dropping it. I almost wiped my hands on my spiffy-keen, orange jumpsuit, but stopped at the last moment. Not knowing when I'd get a new one, I licked my fingers instead. Across from me was my upstairs neighbor, a sallow-looking witch who had ignored me so far as he dipped his toast into his coffee before eating it. To my left was Mary. I'd met her earlier by way of conversation around the wall between us, and my first sight of her had been a shock; the woman was so thin she looked ill. To my right was a middle-aged guy who never spoke. Most everyone was talking. Alcatraz wasn't a big place, and it was kind of... homey. Maybe it was because we were on an island with no ley lines, surrounded by salt water. There simply was no escape.

Unhappy, I pushed my tray away and sat with my plastic coffee mug. I'd been here since the midnight boat brought me over with a load of canned goods, handcuffed to a pole in the middle of the boat. Since then, I'd showered in salt water in a big empty room-as if being on an island surrounded by salt water wouldn't take care of earth charms on its own-reshowered in freshwater, been poked, prodded, gossiped over, and given a new band of charmed silver with my name on it. It had been a relief to finally get to my cell, where I fell into an exhausted sleep hours before everyone else. I felt like a dog at the pound. And like a dog, I worried that my owner wouldn't come pick me up. I hoped it was Ceri who summoned me out of here, not Al. I couldn't call Al for help while I wore charmed silver, but he could summon me. I had to believe that I'd be summoned by someone, eventually.

At least I'd gotten the cremation ashes off me, I thought as Mary jostled my elbow, and I blinked when her smile showed she was missing a tooth. I thought as Mary jostled my elbow, and I blinked when her smile showed she was missing a tooth.

"You heard about the food then?" she said, glancing at my tray, pushed to the middle.

"What do you mean?" I took a sip of coffee.

"They drug it," she said, and the guy across from us shrugged, continuing to tuck in.

I didn't swallow, my mouth full of coffee as my gaze went between them, wondering if it was truth or prison razzing. The big guy across from me seemed to be enjoying his breakfast, but Mary looked like she hadn't eaten in years.

"It is!" she said, eyes wide in her thin face. "They put in an amino acid that binds to the receptors in your brain to chemically strip you of your ability to do magic if you eat enough."

I spit the coffee out, and the guy across the table guffawed as he chewed. Feeling ill, I set the coffee aside, and Mary nodded, adding enthusiastically, "Your sentence is based on how much of your ability they want to take away. I've got thirty years left."

The witch across from me finished his eggs and eyed mine. "You'd get early parole and be out of here by spring if you'd eat," he said.

Mary cackled at that, and I glanced at the guards, busy not caring. "So how long are you in for, Rachel?" she asked, eyes on the demon scar on my wrist. She obviously knew what it was. "Life," I whispered, and Mary cringed.

"Sorry. I guess you should eat, then. I got sixty years for killing my neighbor," she said proudly. "His d.a.m.ned dog kept peeing on my monkshood."

"Monkshood Mary... ," I said, recollection raising my eyebrows. "You re Monkshood Mary? Hey! I read about you in school!"

She beamed, extending her hand. "Hey, Charles, see? I'm still famous. Glad to make your acquaintance," she said as if having rehea.r.s.ed it a thousand times, and I took her bird-light hand, feeling like it might break in my grip.

"I'm Charles," the man across from me said, and his hand engulfed mine. "That there is Ralph," he added, nodding to the silent man on my right. "He doesn't talk much. Been kinda down since the cell next to him went empty last year."

"Oh. Sorry." I glanced at him. "Someone got out, huh?"

Mary picked at her crust, skirting where the b.u.t.ter was. "Tried. If they catch you alive, they neuter your magic the old-fashioned way. Ralph, show Sunshine your scar."

Sunshine? I thought, not happy about the nickname, but Ralph put down his fork and pulled the hair up from his forehead. "Oh my G.o.d," I whispered, and he let his hair fall, turning back to his meal and carefully manipulating the fork... concentrating on it. Slowly, very slowly. They had lobotomized him. I thought, not happy about the nickname, but Ralph put down his fork and pulled the hair up from his forehead. "Oh my G.o.d," I whispered, and he let his hair fall, turning back to his meal and carefully manipulating the fork... concentrating on it. Slowly, very slowly. They had lobotomized him.

"Tha-that's inhuman," I stammered.

Charles stoically met my horrified gaze. "We're not human."

Silence fell, and I felt cold. I had to get out of here. Like now! Why hadn't anyone summoned me home yet? Ivy said she was okay, but what if Jenks really was hurt and she'd been lying so I wouldn't worry?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I jumped when I realized someone was standing behind me. I turned, coming eye to middle with one of the biggest women I'd ever seen. She wasn't fat, she was big. Big boned, big chested, big ankles, and big hands. Her pudgy face made her eyes look small, but they glinted with intelligence.

"Hey, Mary," she said with a southern accent. It wasn't the elegant sound of a southern belle, but the ugly tw.a.n.g of trailer trash on the edge of the woods with a trampoline out front and stacks of TV Guides TV Guides by the door. Her fat-lost eyes stared at me as she casually took Mary's tray, holding it over the smaller woman's head while she shoveled her breakfast into her mouth. by the door. Her fat-lost eyes stared at me as she casually took Mary's tray, holding it over the smaller woman's head while she shoveled her breakfast into her mouth.

"Lenore, this is Rachel," Mary said, her tone shifting to a respectful fearfulness. It pegged my bully meter, and my face warmed. "Rachel has Mark's old cell," Mary finished.

Lenore's eyes narrowed. "You don't need dis, honey," she said, setting Mary's tray down and taking up mine. "Yer figure's jest fine. Let Auntie Lenore take care of yo-o-o-ou."

Just how many syllables are in "you"? I thought dryly. I wasn't going to eat it, but I wasn't going to let Auntie Lenore think she could walk over me either. Trouble was, it was kind of tight at the table, and she held the tray right over me. I thought dryly. I wasn't going to eat it, but I wasn't going to let Auntie Lenore think she could walk over me either. Trouble was, it was kind of tight at the table, and she held the tray right over me.

I took an angry breath. Mary shook her head, scared. The posted guards weren't watching. They were careful not to, by my estimation. Fine. "Charles, make a hole," I said, and the man casually made a little hop with his hip. Three people protested as he shoved them down, but his bulk made the move fast and easy.

I ducked under the table and slid all the way to the other side, popping up beside him and stepping up onto the bench seat. Standing taller than Lenore, I jerked my tray away. Or at least I tried. The woman had a grip on it as if it was a ticket out of here.

The surrounding conversation died, and all eyes turned to us. Lenore was staring at me as we both held my tray. "You think you can take me, skinny a.s.s?" she said, eager for a fight, and I sighed. Why hadn't Ivy summoned me out before before I had to fight someone? I had to fight someone?

"What I think is, you'd better let go of my tray before I jam it down your shirt," I said. "Anyone ever tell you that you look like an orange in that jumpsuit? Auntie Lenore? More like Auntie Clementine." Hey, if I was going to fight this woman, I was going to do it right.

"You skinny b.i.t.c.h!" she shouted, and people moved. Except for the guards watching us.

"Rachel, no!" Mary said as she scrambled up. "Stop or they'll gas us!"

Not as long as the guards were in here laughing. Lenore made a fist with her free hand. The fork was in it, placed to gouge. She yanked me across the table. I let go before she could pull me into her and dropped, sitting on the table. Bracing myself, I kicked out with both feet, hoping to hit her solar plexus hard enough to wind her. It could be over in ten seconds.

My feet slammed into her. Lenore didn't move, and the shock reverberated all the way back to my spine. My jaw unclenched, and I slowly sent my eyes up to see her smiling at me. My G.o.d, the woman was built like a tank. Lenore smirked, then slammed the tray onto my head.

It hit hard, and my vision spun. "You got yerself a sparkly," she said, grabbing my wrist. Suddenly I found myself careening down the table as she walked, me sliding into everyone's trays until I fell off the end in a crash of tin and plastic.

"Ow!" I yelped as I hit, sprawled on the floor.

"Pretty sparkly," she said sarcastically, and I slipped in coffee and eggs as I tried to get up, helpless in the woman's grip. "Dey only make demon summoners wear dees," she said, wedging a thick finger between me and the charmed silver. "You summon demons?"

"No," I panted. "But I'm a liar, too."

"Then you don't need it none," she said, trying to pull it off me.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled, but the guards only laughed. I was covered in egg and coffee, and half the table was angry with me for dragging their breakfast onto the floor. "Ow!" I shrieked as real pain stabbed through my wrist. "Let go!"

"Gimme yer bracelet," Lenore said, squeezing my hand. "Give it."

She didn't want my bracelet. She wanted to freaking break my hand.

I pulled back and gave her a side kick, but it was like kicking a tree, the woman was so big. She took it, then swung a thick fist at me. I ducked and people cheered.

"I said let go!" I shouted, throwing coffee in her face.

Lenore bellowed as her grip loosened, and I pulled away. Arms outstretched, she came at me. I ducked, scampering out from under her and slipping on eggs. I couldn't let this woman get a bear hug on me-she'd snap my spine.

Still howling, she turned to follow, moving remarkably fast. I hadn't wanted to hurt her, but I didn't have much choice anymore. Jumping onto the table, I fell into a fighting stance.

Lenore hesitated, her eyes flicking behind me. Taking a step back, she pa.s.sively raised her hands, but it wasn't because of me. Too late, I turned.

Pain exploded at the back of my knees, so hard and fast that I couldn't breathe. I went down face-first. Tears blurred my vision, and I curled into the fetal position, trying to hold my knees. Someone had hit me from behind. Oh G.o.d, I'd never walk again. Oh G.o.d, I'd never walk again.

"I's kill her! I's f.u.c.king kill her!" Lenore was screaming, and I looked past my stringy hair to see her being led away by two guards, submission holds on her with the help of a couple of sticks. Sure, big talker now that she couldn't do anything.

"Get up, Sunshine," someone said sarcastically, and I groaned when they pulled me up and dragged me between them. I couldn't straighten my legs. They hurt like h.e.l.l. Apart from our table, the rest of the room was orderly. Noisy, yes, but no one was getting off their benches.

Mary held her narrow body with her skinny arms, scared. Charles wouldn't look up. But it was Ralph's expression that scared me. Terror was in his eyes, terror he couldn't express but was reliving. Not the medical wing. G.o.d, please. Not the medical wing. Not the medical wing. G.o.d, please. Not the medical wing.

"New girl making friends?" one of the guards said, letting go and shoving me into the wall before he jerked my arms behind me. "What is it they say about redheads?"

"The medical wing?" the other said, hesitating by a stairway going down. There was a cold draft coming up, stinking of fear and infection. G.o.d, no. They could do it, and it would be over. My life done. I'd be like Ralph, and all the magic in the world wouldn't be able to fix me.

I gathered myself to fight again, my relief almost making me cry when the first replied, "No. She's got someone from the mainland coming over, and they want her to be able to talk."

My relief was short lived. They want me to be able to talk? I wasn't getting a lobotomy because it might inconvenience someone?

The sound of links of steel ratcheting closed around my wrists was loud. I wanted to fight, but I could hardly move, and fear hit anew when they dragged me past my cell to another part of the prison. My heart pounded, and I struggled to get up, to do something! Being hurt and cuffed wasn't nearly as terrifying as the realization that these people could do anything-cut me up like they had Ralph-and no one would think twice, much less care.

The noise from the dining hall grew fainter, and it was just me and my jailers, dragging me backward over the concrete floor past a series of close-set metal doors. They faced a solid stone wall, and beyond that, the unseen ocean. My heart pounded, and adrenaline got me to my feet when they stopped so one guard could open a cell door. It took two of them to do it, one at the cell with me, and one at a remote panel. The sound of the creaking door chilled me, and I gritted my teeth against the pain in my knees when they started to buckle with my own weight.

"Enjoy the hole," the guard said, and he shoved me past an outer metal door and a second, standard barred door into a lightless five-by-nine box. I fell, vision graying from the pain in my knees. The barred door shut before I could even pull my face up. The second door slammed behind it a moment later, cutting off the light after I saw the toilet, sink, and nothing else.

They didn't even laugh at me as their voices became faint, I was so beneath their consideration. Slowly I got my legs untangled, the motion difficult because my arms were still cuffed behind me. Feeling sick, I scooted back until I found the wall. It was metal, too, and cold. The soft sounds of my breathing became loud. Someone nearby was crying, but it wasn't me.

It would never never be me. be me.

The metal floor and walls were cold, but I had quit shivering hours ago, numb to it now. The backs of my knees were swollen, and I couldn't bend them. They ached, throbbing with a pain that refused to abate and that I just learned to live with. The solid outer door had remained closed, and it was close to pitch-dark. I couldn't see the walls, but I had traced their outlines to find the toilet-hard to use with my hands still cuffed-and the sink. Now I sat with my back in a corner beside the door, my legs outstretched on the cold metal floor to try to get the swelling down. Getting my cuffed hands in front of me had been torture.

I had missed lunch, by the faint scent of lasagna that had come and gone. My dinner had been salad. I hadn't eaten it, and it sat beside the interior door where the woman had left it. The vinegary dressing was probably full of magic-demoting goodness.

A sc.r.a.pe of nail on metal brought my heart into my throat, and I strained to see. Rat? Rat? I thought. I wasn't scared of them, much, but I couldn't see a d.a.m.ned thing. Wincing, I tried to bring my knees closer. The new scent of iron and stone tickled a memory, and hope brought me stiff. "Bis?" I whispered. I thought. I wasn't scared of them, much, but I couldn't see a d.a.m.ned thing. Wincing, I tried to bring my knees closer. The new scent of iron and stone tickled a memory, and hope brought me stiff. "Bis?" I whispered.

A soft thump shocked through me, and adrenaline pulsed when a pair of softly glowing eyes turned to me, hovering about a foot above the floor. "Ms. Rachel," the adolescent gargoyle whispered, his nails sc.r.a.ping as he came closer. "I knew I could find you!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, relief spilling through me. I reached out to touch him, and the instant my cold fingertips made contact, the unfamiliar pattern of the shattered West Coast ley lines burst into my thoughts. I jerked back, shocked. d.a.m.n it, I really needed to touch someone, but Bis would send me into overload.

"Sorry," he said, his big supple ears drooping like a puppy's in the faint light from his eyes. His usually p.r.i.c.ked ears were edged in white fur, as was the lionlike tuft on his thin, hairless tail. His leathery wings rustled as he settled them, and his craggy features looked young despite the crevices and pebbly gray appearance.

"How did you get here?" I whispered. "Is Ivy with you? Did she fly out?"

"It's just me and Pierce," he said proudly. "We jumped. All the way from your kitchen."

"Pierce!" I exclaimed, then winced. Any louder, and a guard might hear. "Did he escape from Al?" Oh G.o.d, I'd get blamed for that-even if I was in prison.

Bis's flat, black teeth glinted faintly. "No. After you almost died from that soul charm, the demons made him send someone to watch you. Pierce was willing, able, and cheap."

"You're kidding!" I almost hissed, but I wondered if part of the reason Al had gone along with it was because he was worried Pierce might find him sleeping one night and kill him. I'd thought those silver bands were impossible to thwart. If it had shocked me, it had shaken Al.

"Ivy is mad," Bis said, his words spilling out, sounding like falling scree. "She thinks you lied to her about how bad you were hurt. Pierce taught me how to jump here. I swam from the mainland, but it's too cold for Pierce. No one saw me. I didn't know I could ride the lines. It was cool, Ms. Rachel! First I'm in your kitchen, and then bam! San Francisco! Just that fast. The lines taste funny, here, though." He finally ran out of words, his red eyes glowing faintly.

"Pierce didn't know I was in trouble until you told him?" I insisted, not believing that Al had just let him go. And I really really didn't like the demons sending me a babysitter. I could take care of myself. Most days. Today I could use some help though. didn't like the demons sending me a babysitter. I could take care of myself. Most days. Today I could use some help though.

The small gargoyle shifted, his wings brushing my ankles to send a burst of awareness through me. "Not a clue. He's really upset. He didn't even know which line to jump to until I told him which line you came in on. That's why he showed me how to jump. Ivy said it was okay. All I had to do was listen to the ley lines. You left your aura all over the place. Following you was freakier than a boy soprano's voice changing in the middle of Ave Maria,' especially when the line we came out of was all broken and stuff, but it was easy! No one told me me gargoyles could jump the lines. Even my dad doesn't know, and he's old!" gargoyles could jump the lines. Even my dad doesn't know, and he's old!"

Gargoyles can jump the lines? Well, they could slide right through a protection circle, and it made Al's comment last winter about my "having my gargoyle" all the more intriguing. But why didn't gargoyles know they could? Demon censorship? Sounded about right. Well, they could slide right through a protection circle, and it made Al's comment last winter about my "having my gargoyle" all the more intriguing. But why didn't gargoyles know they could? Demon censorship? Sounded about right.

"Pierce knew exactly where they had taken you when we popped out of that line," Bis said, inching closer, his glowing eyes pinched in worry. "Are you okay?"

I wasn't, but I forced a smile. "I'm much better now," I whispered. "You did good. I'm really happy to see you. Can you get back on your own?

He shook his head, his thick canines making him look terribly fierce as he frowned. "I promised Pierce I wouldn't jump without him. He says I'm not good enough."

I smiled, thoroughly understanding how it rankled to be told you weren't good enough. In this case, though, I was all for a little adult supervision. How Pierce knew the coven would put me here sort of bothered me. True, he'd been a member of the coven of moral and ethical standards himself-before they bricked him into the ground, alive-but Alcatraz hadn't been a prison when he'd been living.

"Bis," I said, wincing when my knees bent. "Can you show me what Pierce showed you? Maybe we can get home together."

The pair of glowing eyes slowly shifted. "Not really. I don't have the words, Ms. Rachel. Pierce said people have to learn from an experienced gargoyle, not a, uh, novice. He can't jump you either. But it's okay," he rushed on when my brow furrowed. "Ivy has someone to bring you home right before the lines close to summoning in Cincinnati."

My knees throbbed, and his eyes shifted from orange to their usual dull red. Even the hard metal floor didn't feel so cold. I was going home. Before Before they lobotomized me. they lobotomized me.

Mistaking my relief for despair, Bis edged closer, almost putting a claw on my leg. "Pierce would come rescue you himself, Ms. Rachel, but the water is too cold. No one saw me swim over. It used to be an old fort, and I only needed a little crack to get in."

He was trying to cheer me up, and I nodded, not knowing what to do with my hands and aware of the cuffs for the first time in hours. Bis could slip through the smallest opening, like an octopus. It had driven Jenks crazy until one night the fun-loving teen showed him how he did it.

"I didn't know you could swim," I said softly, running a finger between me and the steel around my wrist. "The ward around the island didn't stop you?"

"It's just a modified ley line," the young gargoyle said loftily. "It can't keep me out."

"Is Ivy okay? And Jenks?" I hung on his words, starved for the memory of comfort and companionship, and I watched his eyes shift when he nodded.

"Jenks's wing is bent, but he's okay. He can still fly and stuff. They want to wait to summon you home until the sun almost rises in Cincy so the council can't summon you back again. That's what I came to tell you. Pierce is worried. He says not to eat the food."

He knew about the food? I mused, disturbed. "Nick summoned me here," I said bitterly.

"Nick?" The young gargoyle rocked back. "You're sure?"

"Yes," I answered sourly. "He walked right after, but if they throw enough money at him, he'll probably do it again." Bis had heard of Nick by way of Jenks bad-mouthing him, but obviously had never met him. "I have to talk to Al when I get home," I said, probing my knees to see how bad they were, and the dull throb turned into a stabbing pain. "I don't need Pierce babysitting me. That's what Jenks and Ivy are for."

"That's what Ivy thinks, too," Bis said softly, his eyes darting, making me think she'd said so in no uncertain words. Loud ones, probably.

I'd tried to make Al take his summoning name back before, but part of the deal was that he'd remove one of my demon marks, something he didn't want to do. I hadn't pressed the issue since Al couldn't abduct anyone if he couldn't be summoned. That the situation could be used against me had never crossed my mind. I shivered, the backs of my swollen knees pressed against the icy floor. I'd been pulled around like a toy. No wonder demons showed up p.i.s.sed.

"You're cold," Bis said, as if only now realizing it. The kid could, and did, sleep in the snow.

"Mmmm-hmm." My misery was temporary. I could endure it.

"I can help," he said, and a dull red warmth blossomed in the dark, lighting my cell with a weird shadow glow as his skin turned pink. He was glowing like an overheated rock, his gray, pebbly skin taking on a luminescent sheen. Bis's big tufted ears were back like a scolded puppy's, and his pushed-in, ugly face was pinched in worry. His tail, too, was wrapped around his oversize feet to make himself as small as he could. "Bis, you are a wonder!" I said, holding my hands out until I pulled them back from the sudden heat. My shins, too, were getting warm.

The teenage gargoyle blushed, sending out a wash of heat, but then his big ears p.r.i.c.ked and swiveled, his eyes following a second later. The sound of a buzzing alarm came faintly, followed by a key in my outer door's lock. s.h.i.t. s.h.i.t. Was it time for my interrogation already? Was it time for my interrogation already?