“Go out from here as you came in.” Boo really did know her grimoire, Liz realized. The Yanks certainly had their sources in her department.
Together they chanted the old spell. Liz tossed the incense into the flame, and put every erg of Earth power she had into concentrating on bringing Fee down.
With a whoosh! a cloud issued forth from the flame, enveloping the stage, people and all. She could feel Boo’s influence alongside hers, aiding and strengthening. He really did know his stuff. Whatever they were fighting was stronger than she could have taken on alone. Melding their talents, they had enough power to do what had to be done.
Liz hoped the non-initiates hadn’t heard precisely what they were saying. She’d have to put a forgetting on them later. It was a harmless technique that worked very specifically on the memory of words in certain combinations. A technique that OOPSI had originated that would be of great use to MI-5 and MI-6, except that they didn’t believe in it. OOPSI barely believed in it themselves. On the other hand, a trained magical technician would be required, and one might not always be available in those pinches. Liz had seen the budget, and knew there was no funding for training.
Fionna sank toward the floor. The spin slowed gradually until when her feet touched down she was facing the agents. Lloyd was there to catch her. He held her tight.
Liz glanced at the half-burned trash around their feet. There was some power left over after casting the spell, power that ought to be used up before it joined the well of fierce magic that underlay everything here. She muttered a cleaning cantrip that gathered all the papers together in a tidy heap on the side of the stage. So she might get in trouble with the unions. It was a small price to pay.
Lloyd came toward them, white-faced, clutching Fee around her waist.
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. You . . . she . . . you . . . I don’t even know what happened!”
“We helped,” Liz said simply. “That’s our job.”
“I didn’t know the government could do anything like that!” he exclaimed. “I apologize for having doubted. I didn’t know!”
“Quite all right,” Liz said. “I hope you’ll continue to accept our assistance.”
“In a minute! Cor, with you there’s nothing that can touch her!”
Liz smiled. She liked the newly-cooperative Lloyd. He was a professional, after all, and his main job was to keep Fee safe. It had to be frustrating to him that he couldn’t. He was genuinely glad to discover that Liz and Boo-Boo would be of some use after all.
Liz had been so intent on her work that she never thought what would be the immediate reaction from the rest of Fee’s people. She glanced around. Everyone seemed frozen in place, staring at Fionna and the heap of confetti. As her eye fell on a handful of the roadies, they flinched and started running for the door. Liz sighed.
The drummer came up to them with his eyes wide.
“That was awesome, man,” Voe said, impressed, “but your lyrics suck!”
“We’ve got to follow it just the way we learned it,” Boo-Boo said, apologetically.
“Bummer.”
The others ranged from fearful to openly admiring. Liz was pleased and embarrassed by the fact that the Guitarchangel was one of the latter. He wanted to know all about it.
“Would you like to sit down some time and have a talk?” he asked eagerly. “About the parts you can talk about, that is.” From his careful phrasing Liz understood that he did know something about real magic. He regarded her with shining eyes.
“I would love to,” she said, feeling as though she could purr, in spite of the danger of the situation, “but right now we must concentrate on Fionna. Now that we know who is at the bottom of these attacks, I think we can work with her and solve the problem.”
“Who?” Fionna demanded.
“It’s Ms. Robbie,” Boo-Boo said. “She’s the source of the disruption. She doesn’t mean to be, but she is. Liz and I intend to go up and have a little talk with her.”
“That bitch?” Nigel Peters asked, in surprise, walking up onto the stage. “I fired her.”
Liz and Boo-Boo shared a brief, horrified glance. “That was not a good idea,” Boo-Boo said. The two agents hurried out, heading for the control room.
Nigel Peters looked around at the circle of shocked faces, then at the ruin of the burned poster on the ground. “Say, what just went on down here?”
* * *
“What happened?” Nigel asked, jogging to keep up with the two agents.
“You must be the only one who didn’t see it,” Boo-Boo said, over his shoulder, his pleasant face perfectly serious for once. “In a way, you’re the one who lit the match. Y’all have just been treated to an exhibition of a sorta grownup poltergeist. Ms. Robbie’s too afraid of Ms. Fionna to snap back at her in person the way she’d like to, so she’s been manifesting it in a different way.”
“Let’s just hope she won’t go up like a rocket now that there’s nothing left for her to lose,” Liz said. Fear was closing in like a cold hand clenching her stomach.
Her dread was justified. The special effects station was empty.
“Where is she?” Liz asked. The technical director, Gary Lowe, had half a dozen people with clipboards around him. He glanced up, then back at his notes. He had to try to rearrange the show without special effects, with only three hours to go.
Sheila Parker detached herself from the group to come over to them, looking apologetic for her previous smirk.
“Gone,” Sheila said.
“When?” Liz demanded.
“Almost right away. After Fionna left, Nigel stayed here,” she said, with a guilty glance at the manager. “He pulled Robbie over into a corner so the rest of us couldn’t hear, but we all knew what was coming. She was pale as a ghost. The conversation started out quiet, anyhow. Then the two of them started screaming at each other. Gary said something like, hey look down there! We all started watching the stuff going on on stage. I kind of got distracted,” Sheila added, embarrassed, “but I heard Nigel say, you’re fired. Robbie was crying. As soon as he stamped out of here, she took off. Was any of that stuff real?” Sheila asked, with interest, looking from her to Boo-Boo. “We were trying to guess how it was done. It was really cool.”
“This is a disaster,” Liz said, turning to the others. “If she had stayed we could have contained her. Now she’s on the loose.”
“Sorry,” Nigel said. “I didn’t know. I believe, you know that, but Robbie Unterburger, of all people! Who’d figure a sad creature like her for a sorceress or a telekinetic? She was screwing up so much I thought it’d be less trouble if she was gone.”
The agents looked at one another.
“We’d better find her,” Boo-Boo said. Leaving Nigel Peters fretting, they made for the exit.
Chapter 14
“Where are you going?” Lowe asked Ken Lewis. The lighting director had risen from his station and was heading for the door of the control room. “We’ve got to keep on with this miserable rehearsal.”
“I’ve got to make a call,” Ken said, very casually. He didn’t even bother to take his headset off, just unplugged it from the console. “Family emergency.”
Lowe narrowed an eye at him. “You’d better not be calling the press,” he said.
Ken held up his hand in a Boy Scout pledge. “I solemnly swear this is not going to be a call to a reporter or anyone who will call one.”
“All right, then,” Lowe said, not mollified. “Hurry up and get back—”
Ken didn’t wait to hear the rest of Lowe’s speech. Keeping an eye on the tiny screen of his cell telephone, he walked until he got an indication for a clear signal. Hitting the memory redial, he fidgeted uncomfortably until the call was answered on the other end.
“SATN-TV,” the voice of the receptionist said brightly.
“I’ve got to talk with Mr. Kingston,” Ken said. He drummed his fingers on the wall, then glanced around to make sure no one was overhearing him. “Mr. Kingston, we have a problem.”
* * *
Augustus Kingston listened intently. His mystery employee had been channeling the energy SATN was sending via satellite transmission lines through their conduit to see the results. They’d been spectacular, but not exactly what they wanted. “I was just trying a few little tricks during the rehearsal, to make sure it would all work tonight, and the girl went out of control. She was too nervous, and there were other things going on . . .”
“Cut to the chase, young man or young woman, whatever you are. Let’s hear the worst.”