Reign of Evil

CHAPTER 53

About fifteen minutes into the flight he turned to the pilot. “How’d you know we needed help?”

“My boss contacted me.”

“That would be Conor?”

Patrick glanced at Holmes, an impressed look on his face. “So you know Conor?”

“Just as he knows me. We’ve worked with the Finn McCools a few times. Were you in on the Isle of Man disaster?”

Patrick shook his head. “That was before my time, but I read the record. Unbelievable.”

Holmes smiled wryly. “Not so unbelievable if you’d been there to see it.” Then his face went stone again. “It must have been Preeti then. My guess is Section 9 had some sort of back-door communications plan.”

“They had to. We can’t call or e-mail out. Everything’s shut down. Hell, I shouldn’t even be flying. We’ll be lucky if we don’t get some Tornadoes want to tussle.”

“Your IFF?”

Patrick pointed to his console. “It’s off. And as you can see, we’re flying NOE, so we might go unseen.”

“I guess it depends on how much effort they’re putting into finding you… or finding us. They must know we’d be working together. What’s your cover?”

“Coast Guard Search and Rescue. And yours?”

“Pest control.”

Patrick laughed. “Classic.”

Holmes turned to Ian and got his attention. He had the man put on a crew chief helmet so they could communicate.

“Since I seriously doubt the Queen has been left in the dark on this, we can’t exactly land and not expect to be shot at. Her security detail will have zero idea who we are until we can explain the situation.”

“I can’t be sure if Lord Robinson did or not. This is bottled.”

“How’d Preeti get in touch with the Finn McCools?” Holmes asked.

“Could be any number of ways. We’ve been using Facebook Apps lately. Using their in-game chat functions. We found after the Chinese government tried to shut down Facebook that all they could do was inhibit the ability to communicate through the site. The game applications are add-ons and subject to a completely different code set. In order to knock them out, the Chinese would have to either completely shut down the Internet or back into each game application, and there’s well over ten thousand.”

“Can you see if you can get word to the Queen through Preeti and her brother?” Holmes asked. “As long as they’re leaving the Internet on, the least we can do is take advantage of it.”

“Meanwhile, we have to find out where the nearest mound is to Sandringham. If by some chance we’re able to get to the Queen before Arthur and the Wild Hunt, then we’ll be able to plan a defense.”

“What do you think those odds are?”

“Slim to none. But I have to try.” Holmes went to remove his helmet. “Listen, I’m heading back. If you have any issues, please let me know.”

Holmes slid free the helmet, then climbed in back. He wanted to check on Laws and the others. Both Laws and Sassy were sucking on fentanyl lollipops. More than fifty times stronger than morphine, fentanyl was short lasting and would provide them the comfort they needed until the next mission. He’d have to watch them, though. He needed to make sure they weren’t completely stoned when they touched down.

YaYa was wrapping QuikClot gauze on Hoover’s mauled rear leg, staring at the dog in a funny way.

Holmes found a seat near Sassy. She held her wand in her hand as if she were gathering strength from it.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a London dart league used me as target practice.”

“Fentanyl working?”

“I’d love to have a cupboard filled with these babies.” She took it out of her mouth for a moment. “Tastes like doctor ass, though.”

Holmes chuckled. “I wouldn’t know.” He paused to look at Walker and Hoover. There was something off about them. Probably the dog was picking up on Walker’s emotion. Back to Sassy, Holmes said, “Don’t suppose you know the nearest mound to Sandringham Estate, do you?”

She thought for a moment. “Probably would be Bloodgate Hill. About twenty miles east, I think.”

“Anything special about that one?”

She shrugged and pulled the lollipop from her mouth. “It’s Iron Age, which makes it old. It’s the largest in Norfolk. And like most of them it’s built on a faerie mound.”

“Sounds like where they’d be coming from. Got anything up your sleeve that could help us combat them? Looks like they hit us with some pretty good magic back there. Laws almost shot me.” He glanced at the bandage on his arm. “Yank nearly beheaded me.”

“They were able to prepare the area. Those are from spell traps they’d put in place. Only reason I didn’t notice them was because of this.” She held up the wand. “It’s both a help and a hindrance. There’s enough power in here to help me defeat, along with the Baen Sidhe, most anything. But if detecting residual magic is what I need to do, then this gets in the way because all I can feel is this.”

“But they’ve never been to Sandringham Estate?”

“Not that I know of, plus the Royal Warlock would have taken care of it had he seen anything.”

“The what?”

“You heard me.”

“There’s a Royal Warlock? And why have I never heard of it?”

“It’s not necessarily for the English monarch. That’s just the way it worked out. The Warlock is assigned to protect the House of Wettin. This dates back to Theodoric the First in AD 900. He protected a coven of warlocks from persecution and so did his line all the way until the 1600s. In return, we vowed to protect the line.”

“When you say ‘we’ you mean…”

“The modern incarnation is the Fraterni Saturni, to which I belong.”

“But you’re not a warlock.”

“Glad you noticed. Let’s say I’m ex-official.”

He nodded. “Got it. What happened in the 1600s?”

“Praying Ernest, or better known as Ernest the First, Duke of Saxe-Gotha, was the first to allow witch trials and burnings. We lost many because of that ass.” She splayed two fingers apart and spit through them onto the aircraft floor, then said a few guttural German epithets.

“Elizabeth the Second is related to the Wettins?”

“Through patrilineal descent courtesy of Prince Albert, she is.”

“And your service to the family?”

“Returned when Queen Victoria invited our founder, Gregor A. Gregorius, to continue the tradition in 1900. He founded our order upon her command, revived the tradition, then made it public in 1928.” She spread her hands. “Thus is our boring history.”

“Anything but boring. This Warlock, are you on speaking terms with him?”

“I know Garland quite well. He doesn’t particularly like me, but he does respect me.” She frowned. “Unlike most of my fraternity.”

“Can you contact him and tell him we’re coming?”

She gave Holmes a shocked look. “I already have. He’ll be meeting us at the LZ.”

Holmes felt exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You looked busy running the show.” She smiled knowingly. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Holmes thought about that and would have called her on it if he felt it would do any good. “And have you brought him up to date on what we know thus far?”

She nodded. “I have.”

“And how are you able to communicate with him? Magic, I suppose?”

“Not magic. Astral projection.”

Now it was his turn to smile. “Of course. Astral projection. Makes perfect sense.”

She beamed back. “I thought so.”