A pothole jolted Cat back to the world. Her temple lay against the cold window, a string of dribble crept down her collar. The world whizzed by Cat’s head at the speed of life. She peeled herself off the window and made note of her surroundings. They were driving north on Route 22 in the Ford Explorer. The rain had not made it this far north; the trees and pastures were bleached with frost, a shadowless cinereal landscape under the absent noon sun. Cal drove with a firm gaze and heavy thoughts on his brow. Cat pulled down the sun visor to wipe her chin in the mirror. Out of habit, she inspected the backseat through the reflection, forgetting that Bree was with her mother.
Seth, in the rear seat, had passed out. He had gone through a six-pack and was sleeping off the difference. Better for everyone, Cat thought. Lelani lay crouched in the rear of the Explorer. Her newly redisguised legs looked human enough, but she couldn’t fool the car. Cat felt the extra weight at every acceleration. They were all quite tired from the previous night’s activities. Cal and Lelani seemed to be handling it the best.
Lelani admitted to having a vague idea of where to find this Earth-born sorcerer, Rosencrantz. He lived along the northern lay line, a virtual river of energy flowing from the center of all creation, in the vicinity of a major transdimensional gate. Dorn would likely have left guards behind, the centaur warned. Cal had taken his spare vest, both guns, and all the bullets.
Cat watched Lelani study the passing world. She had an appetite for knowledge, a mind like a glue trap, and a physique and dexterity that could make mincemeat out of Serena Williams on the tennis court. Cal said she was unique. In his experience, magi were the types whose cuffs soaked in their soup bowls while they absorbed text from a scroll. They were geniuses, but also awkward and clumsy in their youth-the types that seldom had girlfriends or boyfriends even in their own circles; in other words, nerds. Cal confessed to taunting a few with his friends when he was a child. Lelani, according to Cal, was a cut above the basic spell-tosser. Her bravery had returned his identity, made him complete for the first time in more than a decade. They were lucky she had been picked for this mission, Cal explained. A mixed blessing at best. Cat couldn’t help wonder if a less able rescuer might not have been preferable, someone not as likely to have succeeded. After all, she’d earned her husband fair and square.
Cat had rescued Cal from an orphan’s existence… a man with no beginnings. But he had rescued her as well, from an endless line of flawed, unintriguing men; a parade of players and insecure minds threatened by a strong will and a sharp psyche, or worse, ready to surrender their authority completely. Cal was the balance-the strongest man she’d ever met, not just in body, but also in his virtue. Chivalry became palatable through his sincerity. With Cal, it was possible to enjoy the comforts of feminine vulnerability and not surrender her self-respect. For that, she’d give him the world.
Bree’s birth had marked a new beginning for Cal. Through nine months of pregnancy, and six hours of labor, Cat inaugurated her husband into the simple experience that many took for granted-a blood relative. And she’d do it again if they had the chance. They were on course for a happy life. A brother or sister for Bree, a promotion to ESU for Cal, her MBA and reentry in the workforce, and eventually a home in Westchester. Cal would retire at fifty with full benefits. When the kids were in college, they could travel while still relatively young. Lelani’s failure would have left them content. Her husband would still be hers alone. No one would have known… not even Cal’s tortured family in Aandor. Cat was embarrassed to have such selfish thoughts.
That damned guilt boomeranged and settled in the nape of her neck again. Previously, she’d have moved heaven and earth to discover his origins; it was the only thing missing from his life. Cat realized she wasn’t thinking clearly. If Lelani had not come, Cal may not have survived Dorn’s attack. She’d be a widow right now; another cop’s wife filling out benefits forms. Sweeping Cal’s history under the carpet as it threatened to unravel everything they’d built was not the solution. She wanted to protect him from the dangers his past brought with it. How far could she bend under the weight of his past before she broke, she wondered. Cat studied his profile like an art student replicating a sculpture. Cal kept his eyes on the road.
Cat hadn’t said a word since leaving the Bronx. The man she’d shared a bed with for six years was holding something back. He’d answered a dozen questions all with the response of a child who’d successfully pilfered the cookie jar and gladly confessed only to not having brushed his teeth yet. Cat was certain Cal would answer a million more questions so long as she avoided one important one.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he asked. He kept his eyes on the road.
“I’m having ten-dollar thoughts.”
“Hmm.”
“And you? What’s on your mind?”
“You have to bend a little lower,” Cal said.
“Excuse me?”
“When you curtsy.” Cal smiled. “Legs bent and torso and head bent forward as well. And it’s not so slow. It’s a quick motion. Your superiors don’t want to be staring at the top of your head all day.”
Cat smiled. “I’ll try to remember that… in case I ever meet a superior.”
Cal put his hand on her knee and stroked it. She laced her fingers on top of his and turned her attention to the road.
“Stop the carriage!” Lelani shouted.
“Shit, Mommy!” Seth screamed, rudely awakened. “What? What?”
They pulled onto the shoulder. Lelani bolted out the back and ran toward a dilapidated billboard.
“Christ! I thought we had an accident,” Seth said.
Cal activated the hazards and backed the Explorer until they reached Lelani. She had a horrified expression on her face. They joined her.
The ad on the billboard was torn and faded, but there was enough to see that it had been for an old carnie freak show in the area. It read, Real Live Man-Horse! See the Eighth Wonder of The World at the Rogers’ Farm, off Route 33. The illustration was of a centaur rearing on his hind legs in all his glory.
“He looks familiar,” Cal said.
“So what?” Seth said. “Carnies have been running crap like this for years. It’s a guy in a harness. It’s a con.”
“The centaur in this drawing is Fronik,” Lelani said. “He’s from my clan and was one of the members of your party.”
“Yeah,” Cal confirmed. “I vaguely remember. Why aren’t all my memories clear? They don’t feel a part of me. More like old television shows I remember watching.”
“The memory spell is still active. It transferred your memory anagrams to inactive neural tissue, and is rearranging them as it rewrites them back to the cerebrum in proper order.”
“Huh?”
“She’s defragmenting your hard drive,” Seth said. “Haven’t you ever used Norton’s speed disk?”
“His memory will be complete by morning,” Lelani answered.
“Should he be driving?” Cat asked.
“Probably not.”
“Now she tells us,” Seth snapped.
“You are inebriated, her ladyship is emotionally distraught, and I am incapable of operating this vehicle,” Lelani stated. “There wasn’t any other choice.”
“We could have waited until tomorrow,” Cat said.
“No. We have already wasted too much time,” she replied.
“Why are we out here?” Cal asked. He was the least concerned with his mind’s precarious state out of the group. “We should find the transfer site. Find Rosencrantz.”
“Fronik’s aid would be invaluable,” Lelani said.
“This poster is ancient,” Seth noted.
“He might know where to find Rosencrantz.”
“It’s a drawing. We don’t even know for sure that it’s him,” Cal said.
“What happened to time not being a luxury?” Seth asked.
“This could shorten our investigation,” Lelani said. It was almost a plea.
It occurred to Cat that until Cal’s brain had caught up with his life, until he got a handle on everything that went wrong, he relied heavily on Lelani’s judgment. She could hear his gears turning, trying to decide if this was a good idea or merely indulging her personal cause.
“Cal, she hasn’t let us down so far,” Cat said. “If my vote matters…”
“So much for the captain being leader of the pack,” Seth said. “‘I’ll follow his orders,’ yadda, yadda, yadda.”
Lelani looked ready to drop-kick Seth. Cal stepped between them. “We’ll go to this farm,” he said. “It’s only a few miles away. This Rogers could be Rosencrantz for all we know. Maybe Fronik got lucky.”
“I’m driving,” Cat said.