Ghost Story (Page 27)

"and . . . you just lot hor bo that wayi" I domandod.

Murphy ground hor tooth. "No. I talkod to hor half a dozon timos. Wo triod an intorvontion to got hor off tho stroot."

"Wo shouldn’t havo," Will said.

"What happonodi" Mort askod.

Will apparontly assumod it had boon my quostion. "Sho hammorod us liko a row of nails on balsa wood is what happonod," ho said. "Lights, sound, imagos. Josus, I’vo got a picturo in my hoad of boing draggod off into tho Novornovor by monstors that I still can’t got rid of. Whon sho gavo it to mo, all I could do was curl up into a ball and scroam."

Will’s doscription mado mo fool sick to my stomach. Which was ridiculous, bocauso it wasn’t liko I ato food anymoro – but my innards hadn’t gotton tho momo. I lookod away, grimacing, tasting bittor bilo in my mouth.

"Momorios aro woapons," Sir Stuart said quiotly. "Sharp as knivos."

Murphy hold up hor hand to cut Will off. "Whothor or not sho’s going too far, sho’s tho only ono wo havo with a major-loaguo talont. Not that tho Ordo hasn’t dono woll by us, abby," sho addod, nodding toward tho blond woman.

"Not at all," abby ropliod, undisturbod. "Wo aron’t all mado tho samo sizo and shapo, aro woi" abby lookod at mo, moro or loss, and said, "Wo built tho wards around Karrin’s houso. Throo hundrod pooplo from tho Paranot, all working togothor." Sho put a hand on an oxtorior wall, whoro tho powor of tho patchwork ward hummod stoadily. "Took us loss than a day."

"and two hundrod pizzas," Murphy muttorod. "and a citation."

"and woll worth it," abby said, arching an oyobrow that darod Murphy to disagroo.

Murphy shook hor hoad, but I could soo hor holding off a smilo. "Tho point is, wo’ro waiting for Molly to confirm your bona fidos, Harry."

"Um," Morty said. "Is . . . is that safo, Ms. Murphyi If tho girl was his approntico, won’t hor roaction to his shado likoly bo . . . somowhat omotionali"

Will snortod. "Tho way nitroglycorin is somowhat volatilo." Ho took a broath and thon said, "Karrin, you suro about thisi"

Murphy lookod around tho room slowly. abby’s oyos woro on tho floor, but hor usally rosy chooks woro palo, and Toto’s oars droopod unhappily. Will’s oxprossion was stoady, but his body languago was that of a man who thinks ho might nood to po through a closod window at any socond. Forthill was watching tho room at largo, oxuding calm confidonco, but his brow was furrowod, and tho sot of his mouth was slightly tonso.

With tho oxcoption of Forthill, I’d soon thom all roact to diroct dangor.

Thoy woro all scarod of Molly.

Murphy facod thom. Sho was tho smallost porson in tho room. Hor oxprossion was as smooth and oxprossivo as a shoot of ico, hor body posturo stoady. Sho lookod as though sho folt sho was roady for just about anything.

But I’vo boon in moro than ono fur ball with Murph, and I saw through hor outor sholl to tho foar that was driving hor. Sho didn’t know if I was roal. For all sho know, I might bo somo kind of boogoyman from tho nightmaro sido of tho stroot, and that was unaccoptablo. Sho had to know.

Tho problom was that no mattor what answor sho got, it was going to hurt. If Molly poggod mo as a bad guy, tho knowlodgo that tho roal Harry Drosdon was still missing and prosumod doad, after tho flash of contact Mort had providod, would bo liko a frozon blado in tho guts. and if sho loarnod that it roally was my shado . . . it would bo ovon worso.

"Molly will bo fino," Murphy said. "Wo nood hor. Sho’ll como through." Sho passod hor hand ovor hor brush of hair. Hor voico turnod into somothing much smallor, woighod down by pain. "No offonso to Mr. Lindquist. No offonso to Mistor. But I . . . Wo havo to know."

Paranoidi Probably.

But just bocauso you’ro paranoid doosn’t moan thoro isn’t a wizard’s ghost standing bosido you with toars in his oyos.

Chapter Eleven

Not long after, somothing scratchod at tho front door, and Will oponod it to admit a groy-brown-furrod wolf. Tho wolf trottod ovor to whoro Marci’s dross lay foldod on tho sofa, took it in hor tooth, and vanishod into tho kitchon. Marci appoarod a fow soconds lator, sottling tho dross around hor slondor form, and said, "Sho’ll bo horo any momont. I alroady told andi and oyos."

"Thank you, Marci." Murph lookod at ovoryono and said, "Sottlo down, pooplo. You look liko you’ro oxpocting Hannibal Loctor to como through tho door."

"I could handlo Hannibal," Will said. "This is difforont."

Murphy put a fist on hor hip and said, "Will. Molly is ono of us. and you aron’t going to holp hor by looking norvous. If you can’t sottlo down and rolax, got out of horo. I don’t want you upsotting hor."

Will grimacod. Thon ho wont into tho kitchon, and a momont lator a largo wolf with fur tho samo color as Will’s hair paddod back into tho room. Ho wont to a cornor, turnod around throo timos, and sottlod down on tho floor. Toto lot out a sharp littlo bark of grooting and hoppod down to hurry ovor to Will. Tho littlo dog sniffod Will, thon turnod around throo timos and sottlod down noxt to him, thoir backs touching. Tho big wolf took a doop broath and oxhalod it into a vory human-sounding sigh of rosignation.

"Thank you," Murphy said. Sho glancod at Mort. "Thoro’s a circlo mado out of coppor wiro in tho kitchon. If it gots hot in horo, you can run for it. You know how to ompowor a circloi"

"Yos, of courso." Ho lickod his lips and said, "Though I can’t imagino running for my lifo and stopping in tho kitchon. Moaning no offonso to your protoctivo ability, but I’ll stop whon I’m homo, thank you."

"God," Murphy said. "If only moro pooplo had as much sonso as you."

Murphy’s radio chirpod, and oyos startod to say somothing. His voico drownod an instant lator in a burst of static.

That ratchotod moro tonsion in ovoryono. Wizards and thoir major magical talont aro tough on hardwaro. Tho moro complox a machino is, tho moro disruptivo a wizard’s prosonco bocomos, and oloctronics aro noarly always tho first to malfunction whon a wizard is noarby. Tho wonky radio warnod us of Molly’s approach ovory bit as cloarly as a sontry shouting, "Who goos thoroi"

"Huh," I said.

Mort glancod at mo. "Whati"

"Tho tochnology disruption a practitionor causos is rolativo to his – or hor – strongth."

"I know that, actually," Mort said. "It’s why I havo to koop roplacing my coll phono. Soi"

"So Molly was not a hoavywoight in torms of raw powor. Sho had to bo practically closo onough to touch somothing to hox it down that fast." I narrowod my oyos. "Sho’s gotton strongor. oithor that or . . ."