"How?"
I shrugged. "Lot of ways. Scatter little glamours around to misdirect us. Only used her magic very lightly, to keep from leaving a big footprint. If she did her thing in a crowded area, enough people's life force passing by would cover it. Or she could have used running water to"
I stopped talking and my gaze snapped back to the sewer grate.
I could hear water running through it in a low, steady stream.
"Down there," I said. "She's taken Georgia to Undertown."
Murphy stared at the stairs leading down to a tunnel with brick walls and shook her head. "I wouldn't have believed this was here."
We stood at the end of an uncompleted wing of Chicago's underground commuter tunnels, at a broken section of wall hidden behind a few old tarps that led down into the darkness of Undertown.
Murphy had thrown on an old Cubs jacket over her shirt. She switched guns, putting her favorite Sig away in exchange for the Glock she wore holstered on one hip. The gun had a little flashlight built onto the underside of its barrel, and she flicked it on. "I mean, I knew there were some old tunnels," Murphy said. "But not this."
I grunted and took off the silver pentacle amulet I wore around my neck. I held it in my right hand, my Fingers clutching the chain against the solid, round length of oak in my right hand, about two feet long and covered with carved runes and sigilsmy blasting rod. I sent an effort of will into the amulet, and the silver pentacle began to glow with a gentle, bluewhite light. "Yeah. The Manhattan Pro
ject was run out of the tunnels here until they moved it to the Southwest. Plus the town kept sinking into the swamp For a hundred and fifty years. There are whole buildings sunk right into the ground. The Mob dug places during Prohibition.
People built bomb shelters during the fifties and sixties. And other things have added more, plus gateways back and forth to the spirit world."
"Other things?" Murphy asked, gun steady on the darkness below. "Like what?"
"Things," I said, staring down at the patient, lightless murk of Undertown.
"Anything that doesn't like sunlight or company. Vampires, ghouls, some of the nastier faeries, obviously. Once I fought this wacko who kept summoning up fungus demons."
"Are you stalling?" Murphy asked.
"Maybe I am," I sighed. "I've been down there a few times. Never been good."
"How you wanna do this?"
"Like we did the vampire lair. Let me go first with the shield. Something jumps out at us, I'll drop and hold it off until you kill it."
Murphy nodded soberly. I swallowed a lump of fear out of my throat. It settled into my stomach like a nugget of ice. I prepared my shield, and the same color light as emanated from my pentacle surrounded it, drizzling heatless bluewhite sparks in an irregular stream. I prepared myself to use my blasting rod if I had to, and started down the stairs, following the tracking spell toward Georgia.
The old brick stairs ended at a rough stone slope into the earth. Water ran down the walls and in rivulets down the sides of the tunnel. We went forward, through an old building that might have been a schoolhouse, judging by the rotted piles of wood and a single old slate chalkboard fallen from one wall. The floor was tilted to one side. The next section of tunnel was full of freezing, dirty, kneedeep water until it sloped up out of the water, went round a corner where the walls had been cut by rough tools, then opened into a wider chamber.
It was a lowceilinged cavelow for me, anyway. Most folks wouldn't have been troubled. Three feet from the doorway, the floor dropped away into silent, black water that stretched out beyond the reach of my blue wizard light. Murphy stepped up next to me, and the light on her gun sent a silver spear of white light out over the water.
There, on a slab of stone that rose up no more than an inch or two from the water's surface, lay Georgia.
Murphy's light played over her. Georgia was a tall womanin highenough heels, she
Lisa Black
Margaret Duffy
Erin Bowman
Kate Christensen
Steve Kluger
Jake Bible
Jan Irving
G.L. Snodgrass
Chris Taylor
Jax