Night Season by Eileen Wilks Read Free Book Online Page B

person?"
    "One that blocks farseeing and farhearing, apparently, among other things. He was shocked to learn we didn't know how to make one."
    Delight widened Cullen's grin. "How big a space?"
    "Ask him."
    Oh, he would. He'd ask the gnome from another realm—another realm!—a great many things. Cullen couldn't stop grinning. "I forgive you."
    "I thought you would," she said dryly.
    The door at the end of the short hall led to a small, dark, crowded room. Monitors lining the far wall held the rapt attention of three of the four men in the room. The fourth sat at a keyboard to one side, presumably doing tech things connected to the images on the screens. He wore headphones.
    Three of the men were strangers. Cullen knew the fourth one, a beefy fellow with a fine frizz of white hair exploding around his face like an excited dandelion. Cullen rather liked Fagin. The man was a top-notch scholar specializing in pre-Purge history. He was also the head of the Presidential Task Force created at the onset of the Turning.
    Not that any of them mattered. Not with what Cullen saw on those screens.
    For some reason they had the sound turned off. There were five screens; two were dark. The large, central screen showed a room furnished with institutional lack of imagination: a beige sofa and a couple of chairs. The gnome Lily had mentioned sat in one of the chairs. His feet dangled well off the floor. He was talking to a small, bald, orange female who must be Gan; they were roughly the same size. Behind Gan and the gnome stood a gray-skinned… call her a warrior, he decided. Whatever else she was, she carried herself as a fighter.
    The big blade sheathed on her back was a clue, too.
    His gaze flicked to one of the other screens, which had a view of the room's other occupants. The bald fellow apparently lacked interest in clothing, though he wore a silver necklace with a small silver disk as pendant… inscribed?
    Cullen squinted and frowned. The resolution wasn't good enough for him to be sure. The man was talking to the only other person in the room, a tallish woman with her back to the camera. His lips, tongue, and palate were dark gray like a chow's. The woman… hell!
    Cullen spun to glare at Lily. "What the hell are you thinking? Get Cynna out of there!"
    Brooks answered smoothly. "Agent Weaver is acting on my orders. We've been assured it would offer grave insult to leave our guests in a room without someone present to act as host. Apparently that's gnomish custom."
    "Gnomish custom is to exchange hostages. That's her real function—hostage, not host."
    "Is this your so-called expert, Ruben?" a slick-looking man in a pricey suit drawled. "Doesn't seem well-informed. Everyone knows gnomes are harmless."
    "Everyone knows a lot of damned silly things," Cullen snapped. "Who the hell are you?"
    "Adam McClosky. Assistant Undersecretary of Commerce."
    "When we're ready to trade something, be sure to speak up. Till then shut your—"
    "Cullen," Lily said.
    He caught his breath and tried to catch hold of his temper.
    "Mr. Seabourne is an expert practitioner," Brooks assured the smooth man. "He's consulted for us before. I have great confidence in his skills and knowledge."
    Brooks had done a nice job of stepping around the word "sorcerer." Since sorcery remained illegal due to the impenetrable stupidity of most lawmakers, Cullen appreciated that. "And I'm ready to consult. Get me in there and get Cynna out."
    "Soon. Rest assured that Agent Weaver is as safe as we can make her. The room has defenses that aren't obvious."
    "The room can't defend her against a magical attack."
    "No, she'll have to handle that herself, should the need arise."
    Cullen took two quick steps, but the place was too damned crowded. He nearly bumped into another one of the strangers, who stepped aside, eying him warily.
    Timms spoke without leaving Brooks's side. "It's her job, Cullen."
    Cullen scowled. Lily put a hand on his arm. "I think she'll be okay. I've shaken