Fate’s Edge (The Edge #3)(64)
Author: Ilona Andrews

"Is Yonker a god?"

"Of course not."

"So how can he control where the soul goes?"

"He doesn’t," George answered.

"So he lies."

"Yes."

"Why do people believe him?"

"Because most people are decent, Jack. They don’t want to think that someone would stand up like that in front of a crowd and lie just to get their money. They want to believe that they’re doing something good when they go to church."

"Do you believe in gods?"

George sighed. "I believe you have to be a good person. Whatever you do, good or bad, it will come back to you."

It made sense, Jack decided.

"Look, not all churches are like Yonker’s church," George said. "Some of them are good; some of them are bad. You have to decide for yourself if you want to go and which god you want to worship or not. It’s up to you not to be a sucker. Life gets really hard sometimes. You don’t remember when mom died, but I do. I cried, and Grandmere told me that Mom was in heaven, in a beautiful garden, where she was happy and safe. It helped. Anyway, we’ll talk about this later."

George touched the rat. A faint pulse of magic sparked from his finger to the dark fur. The little rodent rolled to its feet and sat unnaturally still.

"Ready?" George glanced at him.

Jack took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He had to commit every word George said to memory. Kaldar had a recorder, but both he and Audrey worried that the boys would be searched, so in the end they decided not to risk bringing it. Now he was the recorder. All those memorization drills William made him do would finally pay off. "Ready."

George stared into space. The rat scurried to the door, squeezed out through the narrow gap between the lower edge and the floor, and vanished from view.

"Log houses on the right, one, two, three, four, five," George said, his voice a low monotone. Jack focused, committing each word to memory. "Identical houses on the left. Six, seven. The houses end in a wide space. Cafeteria on the left. Guardhouse on the right. Three people are playing cards. The one on the left is upset because he can’t remember the poker combinations. He’s accusing the others of cheating him. Two more people are in their bunks. Five guards total. There is a gun rack with rifles. Pathway from the wide space leading northwest. Trees. More trees. The path is maybe two hundred elbows in length. Large building."

George fell silent. Jack waited.

"I’m at the ward. The Night plan won’t work. These wards are really old, at least as rooted in as ours were on the house in the Edge. You probably can get through in the lynx form, but none of us in human form can penetrate this. Going back into the camp now."

So much for stealing the gadget.

"I’m at the church. The inside is large, one, two, three . . . twenty-five rows, in two sections in the middle of the floor. A lot of open space on the sides and before the stage. Another guard in the front row, carrying a rifle. He’s reading a book. The pulpit is empty. There is magical residue. Hallway to the right." George’s face jerked.

"A cat. Damn it."

"Did you get eaten?" Jack murmured, and cursed inwardly. George was so deep in trance he wouldn’t hear.

"I’m hiding under a mop bucket. He broke my neck. Hurt like hell."

For the next ten minutes, they sat quietly.

"Okay, he went away." George winced. "Two rooms. One on the right has another guard. He’s drinking coffee. The door on the left is fitted tight. I’ll have to backtrack and chew through the wall."

Jack growled to himself. The longer George stayed in the trance, the harder it was to bring him back.

"This is a really thick wall," George said. "It will be a while."

Curse it.

Footsteps. Jack tensed. Closer, closer. Someone knocked on the door.

Go away.

The knocking persisted.

Jack padded to the door, dropped down, and sampled the draft floating under. The freckled girl from before.

He got up and opened the door half an inch. "Hey. How’s it hanging?"

She blinked. "Umm, is your brother here?"

Jack braced the door with his foot. If George started mumbling, their lives would get complicated fast. "He’s sleeping."

The girl licked her lower lip nervously. "Maybe you could wake him up."

"He’s tired. I’m tired, too."

"I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you woke him up for me."

The way she stood, determined, one foot forward, meant she wouldn’t go away on her own. He had to say something mean now, or they’d be stuck here with the door half-opened, and George could start talking any moment. Jack rummaged in his brain.

"He has a girlfriend. And she’s prettier than you."

The freckled girl took a step back. "You know what? Fuck you."

"Fuck you back. Bye now." Jack shut the door and latched it. Phew.

An hour passed. Another. This was taking too long.

Finally, George announced, "Okay, I’m through. The room is empty except for the table. On the table there is a square glass case. I see it now. It’s a low-grade Karuman emotional amplifier, level three, standard cloak-chain model, known as the Eyes of Karuman. There is a book in my luggage on automatics; it should have a picture. This item was used by a cult, and it’s been banned in the realms for at least a hundred years. It doesn’t just influence emotions; it cooks your brain until you become a fanatic. Judging by the mineral crust on the lower edges of the disks, this thing has been used a lot. You need to tell Kaldar and Audrey that when the device is active, the people likely think Yonker is a prophet and will defend him with their lives. But the effect is short-lived, so he has to continuously use it to keep the congregation together. The use of the device induces euphoria, and some research suggests that the congregation will exhibit dependent tendencies."

"English, George," Jack muttered.

". . . meaning they are addicted to the way the Eyes of Karuman makes them feel."

Great. Crazy addicted religious people.

"The device consists of two golden disks two inches in diameter. Each disk has a dark blue stone, probably sapphire, pillow cut, an inch and a half in diameter. There are five glyphs on each disk, radiating from the stone out. From the top going clockwise, glyph for air, glyph for mind . . ." George launched into a detailed description of the parts.

Jack memorized it all. Finally, George took a deep breath. "Okay. Bring me back now."

Jack grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "Wake up."

Nothing. Fear shot through Jack. It was all right. He still had a backup. He had water.