Kim Harrison - The Witch with No Name

David tapped the table with a thick knuckle. His hands were looking rougher these days, and I wondered if he was embracing his wilder side more. “Yes, I don’t get that part. Why would Landon want an end to magic?”

Wincing, Trent rubbed his forehead. “Because elven magic isn’t entirely dependent upon ley lines. We have an open forum through prayer and might be the only major magic users left if the lines go.”

Might. He said might. As in demons might be able to use elf magic as well? Or might as in elves might not have magic either? The distinction was important.

“What about Weres?” David asked, understandably concerned.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Trent said, but David didn’t look convinced. “Weres and leprechauns also use the Goddess’s energy to shift and perform magic. I’d expect a slight reduction, but still functioning.”

Not pleased, David slumped back. “It’s hard enough to shift already.”

“What about pixies?” Jenks asked.

“I think you’ll be okay,” I said, but worry that he wouldn’t made the coffee sit ill in me. Landon wouldn’t care if the pixies died out in his bid for elven superiority. Hadn’t he learned anything from the history texts?

“There’s always the chance that if he can’t reinvoke the Arizona lines—”

“He can’t,” Professor Anders interrupted.

“. . . that the Goddess will also lose her access to reality.” Trent’s lips pressed together in thought. “She won’t be happy about that,” he said, and Professor Anders drummed her fingers, clearly not believing in the Goddess at all.

Vivian set her pen down with a sharp snap. “I was going to advise the coven to support Landon, but this changes things.”

“You believe in the Goddess?” Professor Anders scoffed, and Trent bristled.

Vivian simply smiled. “No. I was referring to the elves’ ability to draw on a separate band of energy not collected in a ley line to perform their magic, one that might still be available if the lines were dead. Calling it a deity is no skin off my nose, and I don’t want any religious entity holding the rest of Inderland hostage. Once the lines end, everyone will panic. They’ll give the dewar anything and everything to reinstate them.”

“Eat that, Ms. Professor,” Jenks said, darting to make the woman wave a hand at him.

Trent seemed mollified, but I knew it was only recently that he’d begun believing in the Goddess himself. “I know nothing for certain,” he said, “but Landon wouldn’t risk losing the lines if he wasn’t confident that he’d be able to continue to perform magic.”

“A truer word has not been spoken,” Al said, reaching over his shoulder to take the new cup Mark was handing him.

“Look,” I said, and Al choked on his coffee.

“Oh God. She’s got a list,” the demon gasped, still coughing, and Jenks grinned, cup raised in a salute.

“We can’t allow the undead masters to die!” I said, undeterred. “It was crazy last spring. Vivian, the news you got on the West Coast was sugarcoated. Cincinnati almost collapsed under mob rule. All services were cut. People went hungry because they were afraid to go outside, and for good reason. They’re still trying to repair the damage, and I’m not talking about just the buildings.”

Nodding, David ruefully rubbed his wrist, broken when he’d tried to stop Nina from crashing the van she was driving into a train.

“Rachel,” Professor Anders said, making me jump. “Can the demons do anything? Perhaps they have a charm to banish the undead souls again. Permanently.”

I twirled my almost full cup of coffee around. “Don’t ask me. Ask the demon.”

The woman leaned in across the table, reminding me of why I didn’t like her. “Apparently, I am,” she said, and I gave her a fake smile.

Al could hardly stand being ignored by her, and with a loud harrumph, he broke the woman’s icy gaze on me. “No. And whereas ending the ever-after would forever eliminate the possibility of us being trapped there again, the risk is too great that we might find our own existence ending with it. The demons vote no. We are going to do nothing.”

“Big surprise,” I grumped, still watching my cup go around and around.

“Doing nothing is a decision,” Al said tightly. “The old undead will die. The new undead will replace them, perhaps with souls, perhaps not. I can’t wait to find out.”

“Sadist,” Ivy snarled, and Jenks rose up, concerned that she might lose it. It’s hard enough watching your mother slowly become insane, but to sit at a table with someone who’d been around when the original curse had been woven was harder.

“Okay, okay,” I soothed, and Jenks quietly flew over to whisper calming things into Ivy’s ear. “No one is going to advocate letting this run its course,” I said, watching Ivy. “Except the demons, who are a small but powerful and likely uncooperative faction.”

Al inclined his head graciously, and Professor Anders sniffed at him.

“So where do we stand?” Trent looked at Vivian’s notes in envy as she collected them together and tapped the ends on the table.

“I have yet to make my report to the coven,” the woman said resolutely. “I’ll give a vote of no confidence in Landon’s plan, but they’re scared.” Her attention shifted to Al. “Scared of demons in reality, scared of vampires out of control, scared that humans will rise up against all of us when the vampires lose it again. I can almost guarantee they will vote to reinstate the Arizona lines and destroy the undead souls to save what they can of society.”

“That is not fair!” Ivy exclaimed, and David nodded his agreement. I could see him already going over his resources, the worry pinching his brow.

Al, too, was glowering, but it was Professor Anders who said, “The academic society will not go along with this. The lines cannot be reinstated. Don’t expect any help from us.”

Vivian smiled cattily. “We never do.”

The tension had risen, and I suddenly realized that Mark had quietly been getting people out the door over the last five minutes. Smart man.

“David?” Trent asked. “What can we expect from the streets?”

David started from his thoughts. “Ah, I’m not really a representative. I was there because they couldn’t find anyone else on short notice.”

The reality was that the Weres didn’t have an overseeing board of individuals that governed the rest of their species, but if there was one, David was it, given the focus, and I touched his hand and motioned for him to be out with it.

“Um, I’ll talk to the packs I can reach,” he said, “but I can tell you right now, we’d rather have the vampires freak out as they reorganize under fewer masters than risk not being able to shift. We’ve hidden before, we can do it again.” He glanced at Ivy. “I’m sorry.”

But no one was sorry for Al, and he was under the same risk of extermination if the lines were destroyed.

Professor Anders let her clasped hands hit the table, clearly miffed. “The vampires have been scared into following a voice promising salvation. If we give them an alternative, I think they’ll take it. I say our focus should be on finding a way to capture and fix individual undead souls before they have a chance to rejoin their original bodies. If nothing else, it might calm the vampires enough to realize Landon is playing them for fools. They don’t want a world without magic any more than we do. I would like to head that up if I may.”

Trent and I had already figured out how to capture an undead soul, but before I could say anything, Ivy drummed her fingers, clearly ticked. “Cormel won’t go for individual collection. In fact, it’s worse knowing that your soul is on the shelf, able to complete you but will end your life if you join with it.”