Titan Song Dan Stout (top 20 books to read txt) 📖

“Did you at least read the book?” she said.

I almost asked, What book? Then I remembered Your Death and You, which was currently sitting next to my window, waiting for its next turn as a prop. The doors closed, and we began to rise.

“Of course I did.”

“What did you think about the chapter on postmortem subcutaneous runic apparition?”

I didn’t answer, but looked at the floor numbers, as if that’d get us there faster.

“I heard from Harris,” she said, free hand resting on her hip. “The divination on the victims at the hardware store is complete. Just more of the same. Confusion and anger from the old man, and incoherent screaming from the kid.”

“What about Glouchester?”

“No ritual scheduled,” she said. “Going straight to the ME, and then his family can have him.”

“What? Why not?” But I already knew the answer. The DO at the guidepost had told us: no manna would be allocated for speaking to a victim if there was a confession and City Hall wanted it to disappear from the headlines.

Guyer shook her head, lips pulling down into a frown that practically screamed her frustration as she added one more rationale.

“There was no transformation,” she said. “First priority goes to the ones like your victims at the hardware store.”

The elevator stopped, giving us all a slight bounce upward. The doors opened onto the third floor.

“This is where we get off,” I said, but Guyer blocked our path, her free hand holding the doors open, resulting in a ding from the elevator.

“We need to know what’s causing this buzzing, and who or what is behind it. More than that—” She glanced over her shoulder, making sure that no one was within earshot. “There is clearly a link between the transformed bodies and you. Maybe both of you.” She turned to Ajax. “I’d feel a lot better about that if I hadn’t seen you clinging to Paulus on top of the CaCuris’ building as everything went to shit a few weeks ago.”

She closed her eyes, scrunching up her nose as if trying to wish away the memories of Titan’s Day. The elevator bell tolled once more in helpless protest.

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading,” she said, voice dropping in volume. “It’s possible this is some kind of reaction to the way you two were exposed at the manna strike.”

Jax shifted, interest showing both in body language and intonation. “Oh?”

Guyer nodded. “Back in the golden age of magic, when whaling ships covered the oceans, there were all kinds of stories about manna-linked objects not working around whales. Maybe it was because there was so much manna in one spot. Hells, after the next gen strike we don’t even know if the whales actually produced manna, like we always believed. It feels like we don’t know anything anymore.” She pushed the doors open once more. “We need facts. We need to get you in front of someone who can figure out if we can at least identify what’s going on.”

And that was the reason that we couldn’t confide in her.

“You can’t expect us to trust that psychopath Baelen,” I said. “After what happened to Andrews?”

“I’m not talking about Baelen.” Guyer still held the door open. The chiding ding turned into a strident ringing. “I’m talking about Dr. Jennings. We need to know what’s causing the transformations. We’ll figure out the buzzing later.”

“They’re the same thing,” I said. “Whatever the transformations are, it’s got nothing to do with me. The kid at the hardware store blew past me like I wasn’t even there. And Saul and Bobby were both trying to get to the doors. The question isn’t what this has to do with us, it’s why would someone want these people killed, and what connection do they have with the sinkhole.”

The DO took a breath, and started over. “Okay. You don’t believe me? Fine. Baelen is supposed to smooth over minor issues, I’ve no doubt about that. But she’s not going to do that for corpse-animating magic. What do you think all the people who see next gen manna as the future will do if it turns out they’re investing in something that drives people insane and transforms their dead loved ones into monsters?”

I frowned and looked away, maybe because even I knew it was mostly just wishful thinking. “The transformation is tied to the buzzing. It’s gotta be.”

Guyer’s lips curled back, and she turned toward Jax. “Is he always this stubborn?”

Jax spread his hands. “As far as I can tell, yeah.”

“Don’t fight me on this, Carter. It’s something you can’t win and neither one of us wants to go through.”

We all stood there, not speaking as the doors rang in protest. Finally, Guyer stepped aside and allowed Jax and me access to our department. We walked into the hall and the doors whisked shut, carrying her off to whatever grim rituals occupied a sorcerer late at night.

Jax inclined his head toward the elevator. “And that right there is why we need to figure out what’s going on.”

“Why, to satiate her curiosity?”

“No, to make sure one of the few friends that you actually have, who was willing to go to the mat for us over and over again, stays on our side.” He stressed the our, which was a nice gesture, even if we both knew that if things really went to Hells he’d be walking on to another assignment, while I’d be finding my spot in the unemployment line.

We arrived at our desks and I gathered up my newspapers and notes. Jax slid open his top drawer, grabbing a small package and covering it with a file folder he seemed to pluck up at random. He clearly wanted a little privacy.

“What’s that?” I demanded.

“Work stuff.” He headed for the elevator.

“No, what’s in the box?” I dogged his steps.

At the elevator lobby he pressed the down button and took a breath. “It’s a gift.”

“For who?”

He shifted the box and file to his other arm, keeping his body between me