"It works out that way," I said. "Think of it as payback for those painkillers."
He grimaced at me, then nodded.
"And thank you," I said quietly. "You were right. I needed the rest."
"Of course I was right," Thomas said. "You looked like you were about to pass out. You still don't look great."
"I'm hungry. Did you make those pancakes for breakfast, or are they only decorative?"
"Go ahead and mock," Thomas said. He slapped a bunch of pancakes onto a plate and brought it over to the table along with a plastic bottle of maple syrup. "Here. Happy birthday."
I blinked at the pancakes and then up at him.
"I'd have gotten you a present, but..." He shrugged.
"No," I said. "I mean, no, that's okay. I'm surprised you remembered at all. No one has remembered my birthday since Susan left town."
Thomas got himself a plate and left the rest on a third plate for Butters. He sat down at the table and started eating them without syrup. "Don't make a big thing of it. I'm sort of surprised I remembered it myself." He nodded at the world in general. "So you think Grevane and the Corpsetaker are the ones who turned the lights out?"
I shook my head. "They were both stretching themselves by keeping so many undead under their control. That's why the Corpsetaker went after Grevane with a sword, and why he defended himself physically."
"Then who did it?"
"Cowl," I said. "He made himself scarce last night. My guess is that he was too busy setting it up to take a swing at Grevane or the Corpsetaker."
"Why Cowl?"
"Because this is a major hex, man. If you'd have asked me yesterday, I wouldn't have thought this was possible. I don't know how he did it, but..." I shivered. "His magic is stronger than mine. And from what I saw of his technique, he's a hell of a lot more skilled, too. If he's as good at thaumaturgy as he is at evocation, he's the most dangerous wizard I've ever seen."
"I'm not sure how he did it matters as much as why," Thomas said.
I nodded. "He gets a lot of advantages. Paralyzes human power structures. Keeps cops and so on too busy to interfere with whatever they're doing."
"But that's not the only reason. You said something about preparing the way?"
"Yeah." I finished a large bite of syrupy pancake goodness. "Black magic is tied in pretty closely with a lot of negative emotions-especially fear. So if you do something that scares a whole lot of people, you get an environment that is better for black magic. This stunt is going to cause havoc. Make a lot of people worry. It will help with the heirs' major mojo tonight."
"You're sure it's tonight?"
I nodded. "Pretty much. It's Halloween. The barriers between the mortal world and the spirit world are at their weakest. They'll be able to call up the most spirits to devour tonight. All the acts of black magic they've been working around town were also part of that preparation. Creating spiritual turbulence. Making it easier to use larger and larger amounts of black magic."
Thomas ate several bites while I listened. Then he said, "How are you going to contact the Council with the phones out?"
"Alternative channels," I said. "I'll call up a messenger."
"Meanwhile," Thomas said, his voice a little bitter, "I will stay here and do...nothing."
"No, you won't," I said. "Because you're going to be figuring out where they can call up the most old spirits. Not only that, but I'm leaving you a copy of Bony Tony's code numbers. Figure out what they mean."
He toyed with a bit of pancake. "Old spirits would come from a graveyard, right?"
"Probably," I said. "But sometimes they can get attached to possessions instead of a specific location. See what you can find out about Native American burial grounds or ruins. That's the right age bracket for what the heirs want."
"Okay," Thomas said without much confidence. "And you want me to figure out the numbers, too."
"With Butters," I said. "He can help you on both counts. He's damned smart."
"Assuming he wants to help," Thomas said. "He might want to cash in his chips and get out of this game while he's still alive."
"If he does, then you'll be on your own," I said. "But I don't think he will."
Just then the kitchen door opened and Butters came in with a panting Mouse. The big dog padded over to me and nudged my hand with his nose until I scratched him in his favorite spot, just behind one notched ear.
"Don't think who will what?" Butters asked. "Oh, hey, pancakes. Are there any for me?"
"Counter," Thomas said.
"Cool."
"Butters," I said. "Look, I think you're going to be all right on your own now. If you want me to, I'll take you home after breakfast."
He peered owlishly at me and said, "Of course I want to go home. The Oktoberfest polka-off is tonight."
Thomas arched an eyebrow at me.
Butters looked back and forth between us and said, "Do you need me to do something?"
"Maybe," I said. "There's some research to be done. I totally understand if you want to get while the getting's good. But if you're willing, we could use your help."
"Research," Butters said. "What kind of research?"
I told him.
Butters chewed on his lip. "Is it...is anything going to try to kill me for doing it?"
"I don't think so," I said. "But I can't lie to you. These are some dangerous people. I can't predict everything they might do."
Butters nodded. "But...if you don't get this information, what happens?"
"It gets harder to stop them."
"And if you don't stop them, what happens?"
I put my fork down, suddenly not very hungry. "One of them gets phenomenal cosmic power, and all the living space he can take. I get killed. So will a lot of innocent people. And God only knows what someone could do with power like that over the long term."
Butters looked down at his pancakes.
I waited. Thomas said nothing. His appetite hadn't been affected, and the sound of his knife and fork on the plate was the only one in the kitchen.
"This is bigger than me," he said finally. "It's bigger than polka, even. So I guess I'll help."
I smiled at him. "Appreciate it."
Thomas looked up, studying Butters speculatively. "Yeah?"
Butters nodded, and grimaced. "If I walk away when I know I could lend a hand...I'm not sure I could live with that. I mean, if you were asking me to shoot somebody or something, I'd head for the hills. But research is different. I can do research."
I rose and clapped Butters gently on the shoulder. "Thomas will fill you in."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I have to figure out how to call up the Erlking," I said.
"Is that why everyone wanted that book?"
"Apparently."
"But you had it. Heck, you read read it." it."
I rubbed at my eyes. "Yeah. I know. But I didn't know exactly what I was looking for."
Butters nodded. "Frustrating, huh."
"Just a bit."
"It's too bad you don't have a photographic memory," Butters said. "I knew a guy in college with one of those, the bastard. He could just look at a page, and then read it back to himself in his head a week later."
A thought struck me hard, and I felt my limbs twitch with sudden excitement. "What did you say?"
"Uh. You don't have a photographic memory?" Butters asked.
"Yes," I said. "Butters, you are a genius."
"I am," he said. Then his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I am?"
"Brilliant," I said. "Certifiably."
"Oh. Good."
I rose and started gathering my things. "Where is that backpack I had you wear?"
"Living room," Butters said. "Why?"
"You might need it." I limped out to the living room and got the backpack. I touched it lightly, and felt the solid curve of Bob the skull within. I got my coat and my car keys and headed for the back door.
"Where are you going?" Thomas asked.
"Gumshoeing," I said.
"You shouldn't go alone."
"Probably not," I agreed. "But I am."
"At least take Mouse," Thomas said.
The big dog tilted his head quizzically, looking back and forth between Thomas and me.
"And hold his leash in my teeth?" I said. "I've only got the one hand to work with."
Thomas frowned and then rolled a shoulder in a shrug. "Okay."
"The phones are apparently unreliable," I said. I tossed the backpack at Thomas. He caught it. "Bob will know how to reach me if you find something. Got that, Bob?"
A muffled voice from the backpack said, "Jawohl, herr kommandant."
Butters jumped halfway out of his chair and made a squeaking sound. "What was that?"
"Explain it to him," I told Thomas. "I'll be in touch as soon as I can."
My brother nodded at me. "Good luck. Be careful."
"You too. Keep your eyes open. Thanks again, Butters."
"Sure, sure. See you soon." Butters poked at the backpack with his fork.
"Hey!" Bob protested from inside the pack. "Stop that! You'll scratch it all up!"
I swung out the door. The night's rest had done me good, and realizing how it might be possible to stop the heirs of Kemmler had given me an electric sense of purpose. I strode to the car, barely feeling my aching leg.
I turned my hand over and regarded Shiela's phone number, written on it in black marker.
I didn't have a photographic memory.
But I knew someone who did.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I went to my office. Traffic wasn't as bad as it could have been. It looked like the commuters hadn't poured into town in the usual volume. The traffic lights were out, but there were cops at most of the problem intersections, and everyone seemed to be driving slowly and reasonably during the crisis. That's what they were calling it on the radio-the crisis. There were a lot more people than usual out and about on the street, and with far less of the usual brisk, businesslike manner. went to my office. Traffic wasn't as bad as it could have been. It looked like the commuters hadn't poured into town in the usual volume. The traffic lights were out, but there were cops at most of the problem intersections, and everyone seemed to be driving slowly and reasonably during the crisis. That's what they were calling it on the radio-the crisis. There were a lot more people than usual out and about on the street, and with far less of the usual brisk, businesslike manner.
All in all, it was about the best reaction to the situation you could hope for. It seemed like people could go one of two ways: Either they freak out and start rioting, or they actually act like human beings in trouble ought to, and look out for one another. When LA blacked out, there had been big-time rioting. In New York, people had pulled together.