Harbinger

24: HIDE

Geoffrey Kryskill’s workshop was in McKees Rocks Bottoms, not far from Tinker’s junkyard. Geoffrey was worried about thieves breaking in and stealing his stockpile of kiln-dried ironwood lumber, his extensive collection of power tools, and his handmade furniture, so he kept a low profile. The old warehouse was a massive block-long structure that at first glance seemed abandoned.

Oilcan’s heart sunk as he pulled into the parking lot. There was no sign of the kids. Where had they gone? Directly to John Montana’s gas station? Or had they been stopped before reaching McKees Rocks?

He sat idling in the muddy parking lot, trying to decide what to do. He hadn’t circled back to the South Side, since Rebecca said that there had been dozens of oni on foot behind the hornet swarm. Oilcan had cut over to the North Side instead and headed up to the McKees Rocks Bridge.

Rebecca looked horrible. The hornet had stung her twice in the left thigh. The entire leg was swelling up and she was having trouble breathing. Should he trust that the kids were safe…someplace and go…somewhere to get Rebecca’s wounds treated? She was tengu — could Mercy Hospital even help her? He couldn’t drive to Haven, there were no roads between Pittsburgh and the tengu village.

“Oilcan!” Blue Sky called from one of the upper windows that overlooked the parking lot. “Hey! We pulled inside. Hold on, we’ll open the door.”

The big doors rattled open, letting out a flood of cooler air heavily scented with sawdust. Oilcan pulled the flatbed into the huge dim warehouse that was Geoffrey’s woodshop. The pickups were parked where stacks of rough-cut and kiln-dried lumber usually sat.

The kids gathered around the truck, all asking questions at once. Guy opened the passenger door and lifted Rebecca out. The three big elfhounds gathered around Andy, snuffling and grumbling about Rebecca’s scent.

“Stop.” Andy waved his hand flat with floor. “Down.”

The dogs grumbled but settled by the flatbed.

“She has been stung twice by a death hornet.” Thorne pointed Guy toward a worktable. “Its venom is brutally painful but not deadly. We need to get her pants and fighting spurs off. The poison makes her limbs swell and tight clothing can restrict her blood flow.”

Guy had been acting very adult. After this announcement, though, he put Rebecca down on the worktable and backed away, hands raised, very much a teenage boy.

Cattail Reeds and Barley leapt to undress the girl in a quick and careful manner. Cattail dressed people for a living, but normally they were healthy and upright. Judging by the murmured instructions from Barley, stripping sick and drunk customers of their clothes was something enclave elves learned young.

Thorne pulled out a small handbound book and flipped through it. “I have a spell that can neutralize the poison. The wound should be washed. Ice would be helpful to reduce the swelling if there is a means to make water frozen. We also need to control the bleeding; put pressure on the wounds.”

“I can do ice!” Andy dashed off to the workshop’s makeshift kitchen, which was a collection of random appliances clumped together next to a big stainless steel bar sink.

“Burn her clothes,” Moon Dog added. “The Skin Clan used to use scent markers to indicate a target for a swarm. It will make any hornet in the area attack.”

Spot nodded solemnly, wrinkling his nose. It explained the elfhounds’ reaction.

“I can burn them.” Merry held out her hands for the offending clothing.

Trusting that the kids and the sekasha could care for Rebecca better than he could hope to, Oilcan turned to Blue Sky.

“Blue, can you make sure that the casting circle is clean and ready?”

“We can help,” Baby Duck said for her and Spot.

As they hurried off, Oilcan turned to Guy. “I know Geoffrey has printers for printing out spells. It would be really useful if I can use them.”

“Yeah, sure.” Guy led the way to his older brother’s printing area. Oilcan and Tinker had helped Geoffrey set up his original system since they were the only ones in the city who understood the mix of spellcasting and technology. The computer workstation had shifted locations and expanded greatly since Oilcan last worked with it.

“I might have to hack his system,” Oilcan said when the computer powered on to a login screen.

“Wait.” Guy entered a password. “He’s been swamped since last year. I come down after school to help Geoffrey out, so I have an account that can access the printers.”

Oilcan nodded. Geoffrey had cleared his schedule to make the gates for Sacred Heart. Geoffrey had said that the security of the enclaves trumped all the other projects he had outstanding.

Guy got Oilcan into the computer system and then stood back as he copied the images on his tablet. As the spells printed out, Oilcan glanced around. Andy was carrying a cooking pot full of ice and some clean dishtowels to Rebecca. Thorne and Moon Dog were prepping the tengu girl for a healing spell. All of his kids were accounted for. Someone was missing. It took him a moment to figure out who.

“What happened to the girls from the ice cream shop?” Oilcan said.

Guy pointed up hill toward McKees Rocks proper. “They live over on Church Avenue, across from Saint John’s, so we dropped them off. John Montana wasn’t home or I would have tried talking Blue Sky into staying there with the little kids. I figured they’d be better off with John than with…” He paused to put his hand to his earbud and listened intently. “They’re blasting general quarters. Oakland.”

The printer spat out the spell. Oilcan felt a moment of relief. He and Tinker had the spell. They were out of harm’s way. Then he realized that Forge and Geoffrey were still at Sacred Heart.

“I should make a second copy and see if I can get it to Oakland somehow,” Oilcan said despite not being sure how. He didn’t want Blue Sky taking it despite the fact that the half-elf was the most logical choice.

“I could take it,” Guy volunteered.

Oilcan shook his head. Guy was technically younger than Blue Sky and didn’t have his sekasha immunity with the royal marines. Andy was older than his cousin but lacked all common sense in the face of danger. Thorne wouldn’t leave Oilcan. Moon Dog didn’t know his way around…

The lights went out.

Could he even print a second copy?

The computer was on a UPS that started to complain. Oilcan eyed the battery unit; it looked too small to be able to power the printer. He tried anyhow and the printer powered up. Then a warning message appeared on the computer screen about exceeding the wattage rating and the entire system shut down.

Oilcan silenced the UPS so it wouldn’t continue chirping.

Guy fiddled with his earbud. “The radio station is off the air. The oni must have cut the power.” He checked his cell phone. “They cut the cell phones too.”

“The circle is clean,” Blue called, “but we’re going to need lights to trace the spell.”

“Geoff has elf shines.” Guy scrambled to break out the backup lighting.

The casting circle was under a tall, fifty-foot-square ironwood shelter out the back of the warehouse. Building it had been a massive group effort four or five years ago. Team Tinker along with members of Carl Moser’s enclave and Geoffrey’s friends from his high school woodworking club had helped to clear the area of metal, lay the marble onto the tamped sand, and build the shelter without nails. The simple design and the number of people who had turned out to help meant that the work went fast; they’d finished in one day. Afterward they had an amazing pig roast potluck (Geoffrey’s family apparently were some type of food gods). They ate and played music and danced on the newly constructed casting circle. It had been a good day. Oilcan was afraid that there wouldn’t be days like it in the future if they lost to the oni today.

The “no metal” restriction meant that the shelter had no wires or batteries for lamps. The area was normally lit by sunlight shining through plexiglass skylights. While sunset was hours off, heavy rain clouds blanketed the sky in dark gray. Under the shelter, the casting circle was dark except for the dim purple haze of magic, probably not strong enough for anyone but Oilcan to see.

Guy came out with a wicker cage full of gleaming elf shines and a shimmering bottle of lure. He went around the shelter dabbing the support beams with lure and then released the big shimmering bugs. The elf shines floated overhead, casting dappled light down onto the white marble.

Oilcan inspected the stone, making sure that the kids had actually gotten all traces of old spells scrubbed away. Blue Sky knew the work after a childhood of chasing Tinker’s whims, but Baby Duck and Spot didn’t know the drill. He was glad to see that despite the lack of experience, the stone looked spotless.

“Good job.” Oilcan patted Spot on the head since the boy looked fearful.

There was a deep boom like thunder. It echoed down the river basin, bouncing off the steep hills that flanked the Ohio River. An odd crackling sound followed it.

Spot turned toward the sound and cocked his head. “That’s fireworks.”

“It is?” Guy said.

They all paused to look up through the skylights. A firework bloomed in the cloud-shrouded sky. The rocket had been fired off from somewhere downtown and then another followed from Mount Washington.

“It means fighting has broken out in Oakland,” Guy said.

“We better work fast,” Oilcan said as he knelt in the dappled light of the elf shines. He was keenly aware that he was surrounded by children whose lives depended on what he did in the next few hours.