The panic caused by the construct’s attack paled in comparison to the utter chaos that overtook the street once the officials arrived. Every law enforcement entity in the city wanted to claim jurisdiction. The FIB showed because the glamour implicated the fae, the NCPD came because it was an attack on citizens on a city street, the MCIB—
Magical Crimes Investigation Bureau—arrived because of the nature of the crime, and the OMIH—Organization for Magical y Inclined Humans—came because witches were involved. Even a representative from the AFHR—
Ambassador of Fae and Human Relations—made an appearance.
With no one clearly in charge, I decided to side with the people who tended to bat a paycheck my way every now and then: the good old-fashioned police. I turned the charmed disk over to their anti–black magic unit. The ABMU officer dropped it into a magic-dampening evidence bag, and then, after making me repeat what happened on the street twice, turned me loose. I didn’t mention Tamara’s suspicions that the caster who’d charmed the disk had also been responsible for the feet in the floodplain. The ABMU
had the very best forensic spel crafters in the city; they would unravel the spel s on the disk.
“Did you see where it came from?” one woman asked another as I passed beyond the police barricade.
I hoped she was talking about the magical construct and not the tear into the Aetheric. After al , a beast rampaging through a major metropolitan area was not an everyday occurrence. Aside from the time a bear had escaped from occurrence. Aside from the time a bear had escaped from a Georgia zoo a couple of years back, I couldn’t remember hearing of any similar situation. But the beast was gone, and the tear was stil here. And it was drawing attention.
I’d merged planes of reality before, but last time—wel , actual y, the only other time—I had been in a private residence. A private residence that happened to belong to the governor of Nekros. He was a big mover and shaker in the Humans First Party, an anti-fae/anti-witch political group. The governor also happened to be my father, and ironical y, fae, but neither of those facts was common knowledge. He must have paid a considerable amount to keep the events surrounding the Blood Moon quiet, and neither my very short arrest nor the fact that an entire suite of rooms in his home now touched multiple realties had shown up in the papers.
I didn’t personal y have the required money or influence to hide a patch of merged reality in the center of the Quarter.
Especial y not with a street ful of witnesses, the media already arriving with cameras out and recording, and a whole slew of legal alphabet soup on the scene. So I did the only thing I could: I avoided questions about the tear.
Or at least I tried.
“Miss Craft, why am I not surprised to see you here?” a sharp female voice asked.
I cringed, and then tried to hide the reaction as I turned.
“Agent Nori,” I said to the FIB agent I’d had the displeasure of meeting the day before. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Doubtful, but I need your statement. Tel me what happened here.”
“My friends and I were finishing dessert and talking about our day. Everything seemed normal enough. Then I noticed the fae who threatened me at the swamp. He was watching me. I pointed him out just before we heard the screaming.
We al looked in the direction of the sound, and that was when we saw the beast. It came from somewhere up the when we saw the beast. It came from somewhere up the street.” I pointed to where the cars were being cleared from the road. “I lost sight of the fae in the panic that ensued.
Several witches tried to conjure against the beast. My friend Hol y threw a firebal at it, and the beast charged her.
When I disbelieved in the construct, it vanished.”
“It takes a hel of a lot of conviction to destroy a ful y autonomous glamour.” She frowned at me, her dark eyes searching my face. When I didn’t say anything, she continued, “So, what can you tel me about that?” She pointed at the hole in reality.
I forced a casual shrug. “Maybe something to do with the beast?” It wasn’t a lie. It was a question.
Agent Nori’s frown etched deeper, the movement tugging on her high cheeks. “Do you make a habit of disbelieving glamour, Miss Craft?”
I’d have liked to say no, but there was photographic proof from a month ago that showed me walking through furniture and candles at a crime scene. In my defense, I hadn’t been able to see those glamoured objects, not even as hazy outlines like I’d seen with the beast. “I don’t go out of my way to do it, if that’s what you mean.”
“And do tears into the Aetheric appear anywhere you disbelieve glamour?”
“No.” At least I could answer that one definitively.
Agent Nori stared at me a long moment, as if trying to decide if I was lying. Or maybe she was trying to determine if I was capable of lying. Fae couldn’t—though they could bend the truth until you’d swear up was down. At the floodplain, Nori had hinted that she knew I had fae blood.