He took the joined magnets and rolled them around in his palm. “When I was a boy, my science tutor brought me a nugget of lodestone one day. After he left, I was in my father’s laboratory, tossing the nugget from one hand to the next.” He did so now, tossing the joined magnets to his other palm and closing them in his fingers, which were also slightly stunted, she noted. “I neared one of the tables to peer at a beaker of demon blood—a substance that was not as easy to come by twenty years ago as it is today.
“I took a step closer to the table and the beaker flew toward me, smashing against the same hand I had fisted around the lodestone nugget. The shattered beaker glass fell to my feet, but the demon blood”—Hugh held up a finger, as if this would be quite important—“the demon blood had congealed around my closed fist, sealing itself to my skin. The blood continued to move, pushing to slip through the gaps of my fingers and reach the lodestone. Frightened, of course, I opened my hand and dropped the stone. The blood followed, every last drop, and a moment later it had formed as a tumorlike mass around the lodestone on the floor.”
He told the story so well, Gabby could almost feel the same shock he must have experienced as a boy.
“Demon blood will seal itself to lodestone,” she said, and with a nod from Hugh, continued. “And the nets are made of lodestone? So the nets will … will seal to the demons they capture?”
She recalled how the net had closed around the mollug demon and the creature had not been able to move.
Hugh placed the magnets on the zinc tabletop. He lifted the net bolt by the longest of the four rods running through it, then pushed the steel-cap button on the tip of the bolt. The three other rods immediately lifted and spun, unraveling the tightly tucked net.
“The netting is crafted of hollow, transparent Parkesine,” Hugh explained, touching the tubular crosshatched net. “It’s flexible, easy to bend and twist. We inject a liquefied compound of lodestone into the Parkesine tubes. The same bond that happens between two magnets forced together also happens to the demon and the net. And on top of that, my father soon discovered that the lodestone also diffused whatever powers or energy the demon possessed. Their blood is simply no match for the magnetic force of the lodestone.”
The smaller slugs skittering away from the trapped mollug demon made sense now, as did the hellhound in the Daicrypta courtyard in Paris that had avoided the net tented around Ingrid. They would have felt the pull of the lodestone and known to avoid it.
“The nets don’t seal to Dusters,” Gabby said. Ingrid had been able to move beneath her netted prison, and Vander as well.
Hugh nodded while admiring the silvery net. “Not enough demon blood in their bloodstream, perhaps?”
And then Luc, Gabby remembered. He had screeched in pain as he’d pried the net’s stakes out of the ground to free Ingrid. “But what about gargoyles? It seems to hurt them.”
“That I can explain. The nets are dipped in a thin wash of mercurite.” He then whispered conspiratorially, “While I trust Carver, not all gargoyles are our friends.”
Gabby reached across the worktable and fingered the netting. This net … it held such promise. She licked her lips before glancing back up at Hugh, who still stood on the opposite side of the table.
“You know of Axia?”
Hugh lifted his chin and nodded. “I have my connections.”
“These nets,” she said, holding the handful of netting in her palm. “Could the lodestone seal itself to an angel?”
“I would have to have some angel blood to test that theory on. Unfortunately, from what I hear, Axia has recently depleted the only known source of angel blood on the planet.”
Gabby let her breath go and dropped the netting. Why couldn’t she have discovered these diffuser nets before? Frustrated, she backed away from the table, hopes dashed. Her time here had been wasted.
“Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Dupuis,” she said, and began toward the door to his study.
“Miss Waverly—”
He was interrupted by a clamor outside the laboratory. Two raised voices, sharp and harsh. Hugh rushed past Gabby and out into the study, where the voices became clearer. They were right outside the study, in the hallway. Gabby groaned as she realized what was happening.
The door to the study crashed open and Rory and Carver spilled into the room, each one shouting over the other. The corvite, still perched upon its stand, fluttered its wings and growled at the intrusion. Rory saw the bird and puzzled at it a moment before turning his attention to Gabby. He went quiet. Darkly and frighteningly quiet.
She knew excuses and apologies would only make things worse. Her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth anyhow.
Rory crossed the study with measured steps, his eyes briefly catching on Hugh Dupuis as he passed him. The look he sent the Daicrypta doyen was as cold and sharp as one of his blessed daggers.
“Miss Waverly has done nothing wrong,” Hugh said, surprising Gabby with his show of support.
Rory ignored him and stopped within inches of Gabby. He pulsed with so much barely contained fury that the space between them felt like the force field between the two magnets she and Hugh had held up against one another.