Lupi 04 - Night Season

Or rather,” she added, “the councilor talks without saying much and they all talk among themselves, but not in English.”
    Cullen’s eyebrows hitched up. “How did they communicate with you at all?”
    â€œThe gnome knows some English, but he won’t discuss anything of substance without a shield. He’s not talking about wards. Cynna asked about that. He claims he knows a shield spell, but can’t use it. His magic isn’t the right kind. That’s why you’re here.”
    Excitement rose and exploded in a dizzy froth. “Real shields,” he repeated carefully. “This gnome is talking about a spell that erects a true shield over a space, not just a person?”
    â€œOne that blocks farseeing and farhearing, apparently, among other things. He was shocked to learn we didn’t know how to make one.”
    Delight widened Cullen’s grin. “How big a space?”
    â€œAsk him.”
    Oh, he would. He’d ask the gnome from another realm—another realm!—a great many things. Cullen couldn’t stop grinning. “I forgive you.”
    â€œI thought you would,” she said dryly.
    Â 
    T HE door at the end of the short hall led to a small, dark, crowded room. Monitors lining the far wall held the rapt attention of three of the four men in the room. The fourth sat at a keyboard to one side, presumably doing tech things connected to the images on the screens. He wore headphones.
    Three of the men were strangers. Cullen knew the fourth one, a beefy fellow with a fine frizz of white hair exploding around his face like an excited dandelion. Cullen rather liked Fagin. The man was a top-notch scholar specializing in pre-Purge history. He was also the head of the Presidential Task Force created at the onset of the Turning.
    Not that any of them mattered. Not with what Cullen saw on those screens.
    For some reason they had the sound turned off. There were five screens; two were dark. The large, central screen showed a room furnished with institutional lack of imagination: a beige sofa and a couple of chairs. The gnome Lily had mentioned sat in one of the chairs. His feet dangled well off the floor. He was talking to a small, bald, orange female who must be Gan; they were roughly the same size. Behind Gan and the gnome stood a gray-skinned…call her a warrior, he decided. Whatever else she was, she carried herself as a fighter.
    The big blade sheathed on her back was a clue, too.
    His gaze flicked to one of the other screens, which had a view of the room’s other occupants. The bald fellow apparently lacked interest in clothing, though he wore a silver necklace with a small silver disk as pendant…inscribed?
    Cullen squinted and frowned. The resolution wasn’t good enough for him to be sure. The man was talking to the only other person in the room, a tallish woman with her back to the camera. His lips, tongue, and palate were dark gray like a chow’s. The woman…hell!
    Cullen spun to glare at Lily. “What the hell are you thinking? Get Cynna out of there!”
    Brooks answered smoothly. “Agent Weaver is acting on my orders. We’ve been assured it would offer grave insult to leave our guests in a room without someone present to act as host. Apparently that’s gnomish custom.”
    â€œGnomish custom is to exchange hostages. That’s her real function—hostage, not host.”
    â€œIs this your so-called expert, Ruben?” a slick-looking man in a pricey suit drawled. “Doesn’t seem well-informed. Everyone knows gnomes are harmless.”
    â€œEveryone knows a lot of damned silly things,” Cullen snapped. “Who the hell are you?”
    â€œAdam McClosky. Assistant Undersecretary of Commerce.”
    â€œWhen we’re ready to trade something, be sure to speak up. Till then shut your—”
    â€œCullen,” Lily said.
    He caught his breath and tried to catch hold of his temper.
    â€œMr. Seabourne is an expert practitioner,” Brooks assured the smooth man. “He’s consulted for us before. I have great confidence in his skills and knowledge.”
    Brooks had done a nice job of stepping around the word “sorcerer.” Since sorcery remained illegal due to the impenetrable stupidity of most lawmakers, Cullen appreciated that. “And I’m ready to consult. Get me in there and get Cynna out.”
    â€œSoon. Rest assured that Agent