Lupi 04 - Night Season

so I shorted things out.”
    Cynna snorted. “Magic is not electricity.”
    Cullen grinned. “Which means I had to be clever, doesn’t it? Congruencies, Cynna. At the moment all the spells for about thirty feet around us are confused about where to draw power because of a little chaos I introduced in the system. It won’t last, but for now no one can eavesdrop.”
    But how could…her breath caught. He was playing with raw magic again. That was the only way he could have done it. He’d sent a surge of power through the walls, disrupting the spells they contained. He’d shaped it some, she guessed, with that chant, but it was still dangerous.
    He must have read her expression. “It worked, didn’t it?”
    She wanted to point out that the spells he’d disrupted might have other purposes—like, say, holding up the walls. But nothing seemed to be crumbling, and if it was temporary…
    Ruben interrupted her worrying. “We can’t be overheard now?”
    Cullen gave a graceful shrug. “Not by the spells they had in place. I won’t guarantee anything more.”
    â€œVery well. First, I want everyone to be clear on our roles while we’re guests here.” He gave Cullen a small smile. “However we define guests. We represent the government of the United States. We expect to be treated as such. They will likely concede to our demands with many smiles. They will patronize us…with the possible exception of Mr. Seabourne. They tend to discount humans. He is both lupus and sorcerer, and consciously or otherwise, they will expect him to be in charge.”
    â€œWe’re supposed to act important?” Cynna was dubious about her ability to pull that off.
    â€œDon’t act,” Cullen said. “Their lives and the lives of everyone here depend on you. They know it. You just keep that in mind and leave the acting to the rest of us.” His smile was chilly and not pleasant. “I’ll play to their expectations. Brooks, I suspect, will confound them.”
    She wasn’t sure what he meant, but Ruben often confounded people. She nodded. “Is that why we were supposed to turn down the clothes? Because we’re important?”
    â€œNot exactly. The gnomes are trying to own us.”
    Ruben’s eyebrows lifted. “You caught that, did you? Yes, though I’d say ‘claim’ rather than ‘own.’ They want to isolate us, then present us to the rest of Edge as if we’d already allied with them. Part of their plan involves dressing us in clothes that speak with their cultural voice.”
    â€œYes,” McClosky said slowly. “That makes sense, given what I’ve learned about the economic situation here.”
    â€œPlease summarize for the others.”
    McClosky’s suit was dirty and wrinkled; his tie, missing; his shoes, scuffed. Add that to his three-day beard, and he looked more like a drunk coming off a bender than the pressed and proper diplomat she’d first met. He still sounded like an asshole sometimes, but not as often.
    At the moment he was earnest, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. “There are many factions in Edge, as I’m sure you’ve all realized, but the gnomes are top dogs. They control the City and the gates. Gates mean trade, and trade is the realm’s lifeblood. Their entire economy is based on it. They even import a percentage of their food, which may be out of necessity. Given the limited amount of arable land, short growing seasons, and relatively small number of crops that have adapted to conditions here, I suspect they’d have a hard time feeding their population without the gates.”
    â€œSo the gnomes are power players,” Cynna said. “I get that. I don’t see what that has to do with dressing us up like their oversize cousins.”
    â€œWe’re game pieces. The Turning changed the political situation here. I’m not sure how—no one would speak of specifics to me. But the balance of power is shifting, or they think it will.”
    Cullen was playing with one of the mage lights, sending it up and down with little pats of his hand. “Maybe the gnomes are afraid the Turning somehow made it possible for one of the other groups to open a gate. They’d hate to lose their monopoly. Though all this speculation and gamesmanship is moot, isn’t it? If we don’t locate their