Fate’s Edge (The Edge #3)(45)
Author: Ilona Andrews

"Clever," Audrey murmured.

"It is. The Edge Gobble."

"Yep." Audrey nodded.

The Edge wasn’t a stable place. It shrank and expanded, sometimes forming bubbles in the Broken – holes in reality, invisible to those without magic. The Edgers called the bubbles the Edge Gobble. San Diego had more holes than a block of Swiss cheese, and this one was of a good size, at least as large as a football field. Normal passersby would just walk by it, completely unaware it existed.

"You think if you crashed a car into that hole, chunks of the building would fly out into the Broken?" Audrey asked.

"I don’t know. They might bounce off the boundary back into the Edge."

"We should test that theory sometime."

Kaldar snuck a glance at her. Her clothes from yesterday had been too bloodstained to salvage, so after they had stolen a car, they drove to an outlet mall. He wore black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket. He’d thought she would choose something similar, but no. She came out in pale capris that molded to her behind in a very interesting way and a light, blue-green, teardrop blouse. The blouse tied at the clavicle with two cords, and the teardrop cutout fit perfectly between Audrey’s breasts, promising a glimpse but never giving one. He was focusing way too hard on that teardrop, and it was screwing up his concentration.

Audrey’s red hair gleamed in the sunlight. Her makeup was barely noticeable, except for her lipstick, which was a shade lighter than raspberry and gave him an absurd impression that her lips would taste sweet. Her face wore an easy, carefree expression, as if she skated through life completely unscathed and untouched by any tragedy. Considering that they had just buried Gnome – well, what was left of him – and she had cried her eyes out, her control was impressive.

"Admiring my blouse?" Audrey asked.

"It’s a nice shade of sea foam. Goes well with your hair." A potato sack. He needed to put a potato sack over her, then it would be fine.

"Most men wouldn’t know that sea foam is a color, let alone what it looks like."

Kaldar shrugged. "For one of my assignments, I had to be a butler to a blueblood noble. The Mirror put me through two months of intensive preparation. If you show me a gown made in the Weird in the past five years, I’ll tell you in what year and what season it was made."

Audrey laughed. "Were you very proper as a butler?"

All the tears, all of the hurt, where did it all go? He had to give it to her: she hid it well. She had a lifetime to learn how to do it. He just had to pray it didn’t boil out of her again under the pressure.

He slipped into a clipped, upper-class version of Adrianglian English. "I was simply a very competent butler. It was, after all, what my employer deserved. Would my lady care to cross the street?"

"She would."

They crossed to the other side. "How shall we play this?" she asked.

"Straight." He held the glass door open for her.

She grimaced.

"You disagree?"

"It’s your show."

He fired a test shot. "Oh, come on, Audrey. You know I need you to pull this off."

She glanced at him. "Kaldar, I told you I’d help you. I still think it’s a stupid plan."

"Trust me."

"Ha! I’d rather give all my money to a snake-oil salesman."

They walked through the long lobby to the counter. Kaldar took a mental inventory of the place. Let’s see, floor of gray tile streaked with softer brown, calming white walls, large, enhanced photographs in gallery frames: vast Arizona vistas, serene mountain lakes, tangled green forests. At the counter, a deathly pale young man looked up at them. His hair was long, brushed to the side in a ragged cut that probably cost an arm and a leg, and his clothes, designer khaki pants and a high-end olive shirt, would’ve set him back two weeks of a normal receptionist’s pay.

The man smiled. "Hello. My name is Adam. How may I help you today?"

"Hello, Adam."

Audrey gave a tiny wave and smiled. "Hi!"

Adam’s gaze snagged on her blouse. Kaldar hid a grin. At least he wasn’t the only sucker out there. He brushed against Audrey, slipping the cross from her pocket, palmed it, and pulled a blank business card from his pocket, black on one side, white on the other. "Say, friend, do you have a pen?"

Adam produced a pen. Kaldar took it and wrote "Morell de Braose" on the card. "Do me a big favor and deliver this to Magdalene. We’ll wait."

Adam retreated behind the door for a moment, then resumed his post behind the counter. Kaldar held the cross in his hand for luck. Just in case. Not that he doubted himself.

Two minutes later, the door opened, and another man stepped out, this one older, with a careful gaze of an Edger. He didn’t just expect trouble; he knew with absolute certainty it was coming. "Come."

They followed him through the first door and out the other. A long hallway stretched between them, severed by the shimmer of the boundary. Kaldar stepped into it. Pressure clasped him, and, a moment later, magic bloomed inside him, surging through his veins in a welcome flood. Kaldar smiled. Audrey kept her pace. A few more steps and they were through, neither of them breathing hard.

The man kept walking. They followed him up the stairs and into a large rectangular room. Tall walls, white and pristine, rose sixteen feet high, adorned at the top with an elaborate white lattice that cascaded down, like rows of falling snowflakes. The tiled floor swirled with a dozen shades of beige and brown, supporting a long white rug shot through with streaks of gold. Clusters of white furniture sat here and there, chairs, small sofas, all overstuffed and soft. Eggshell and white planters hung from the lattice, containing emerald green plants, mimosa, and Edge vines dripping down to meet palms, carefully trimmed shrubs, and flowers growing in large planters on the floor. Finally, the ceiling of translucent glass sifted sunshine onto the entire scene, setting the lattice and walls aglow.

A woman rose from one of the chairs at their approach, closing her laptop as she got up, her long white skirt swirling around her legs. She wore a beige blouse and looked pretty much like her picture: about forty, narrow face framed by short brown hair, tan skin, rose-tinted glasses. Kaldar checked the eyes behind the rose-tinted glasses. Cold and hard. Predatory. Yep, Magdalene Moonflower in the flesh.

Magdalene held up his card. A small explosion of magic burst from her fingertips, sending a silver spark across the black surface, turning it into a silvery mirror. A moment, and the mirror faded back to black.

"An agent of the Mirror in my humble abode. Imagine that."