I scratched my head, still staring at the odd transformation. One minute it looked like an alabaster arch, the next pure obsidian. "What in the world is going on with the colors?"
MacLean looked just as confused. "It's like the blasted thing can't make up its mind."
I held my phone up to an ear to ask Zagg a question, and heard nothing but static. "I think it's interfering with my phone."
"If this thing is what made your friends sick," the Scot said, "I don't want to stand near the bloody thing a second longer than I have to."
The almost constant pull of static on my clothes and arms was enough to make me wonder what horrible things this pulsar was doing to my internal organs, though I realized with a wry chuckle, it couldn't be much worse than what the vampling curse was already doing. Before I turned, I noticed a doorway on the opposite side of the room. I tried to make a video with my phone, but my phone had other ideas.
"Where do you think that goes?" I asked, pointing toward the mysterious exit. I ran to it, and peered into a small room with a sturdy metal door. Thick bands of steel ran through grooves, holding it shut. It looked formidable, even for my supernatural powers.
MacLean shrugged. "I don't know, and right now, I don't bloody care. I'm getting out of here, and not returning without a magic hazard suit on."
I backed away from the arch, turned, and jogged after MacLean. After we passed through the broken wall, he looked around the room.
"Did you notice how the lamps in here grow brighter during each pulse?" he said.
They did indeed seem to brighten and darken in time with the light from the arch. "I don't understand how magic could make people sick like that."
"Aye, I don't know either. You could stand in the middle of a ley line and not get sick." He shrugged. "I don't know who to even ask about it."
"Maybe an arch operator?"
He snorted. "Those bloody imbeciles know how to push buttons, and that's about it."
"They were working on an arch for the Conroys. They can't be that stupid."
"Well, true. But do you really want one of them poking around down here?" His gaze met mine. "What if this thing could be used as a weapon, or to open a gateway to the angel realm? Then we'd be in a bloody mess, wouldn't we?"
I couldn't argue with him there. "We need to make sure nobody else comes down here."
"No argument there, lad."
We made our way back to the main dungeon, and headed back through the hole in the grate. Once outside, MacLean snapped his staff to full length, and whipped up an illusion barrier, that matched the corridor wall, solid to the touch.
He snapped the staff back down to the size of a small rod, and slid it into a pocket in his pants. "That'll do for the time being."
"We'll have to go back down there and study it," I said. "We have to find out why it made people sick." I tried to call Zagg, but my phone still wasn't responding very well. After a restart, it seemed to function normally once more, but by then, we were already topside. "Let's talk to Zagg."
MacLean looked up and down the hall, eyes darting nervously. "What about the bloody Flark?"
"Do you really think he'll try to kidnap you with witnesses everywhere?"
"Even if he doesn't, what if he follows me to my hideout?" Worry creased the corners of his eyes.
"We need to figure out a permanent solution to our Bigglesworth problem," I said with a growl. "There's got to be some way to burn his bacon."
MacLean chuckled. "True, or there'd be a lot more of the nasty buggers running around." He regarded me with a serious expression for a moment before nodding. "Fine. Let's go talk to Zagg. I'm probably safer with you lot than going bloody insane in the secret chambers behind the library walls."
"I even have a place for you to stay," I said, thinking of all the rooms going to waste at my haunted mansion.
We found Zagg and Cinder in the historian's office. I saw Cinder fiddling with one of the marble-sized ASEs and a scroll of parchment.
Zagg looked up when we entered the room, relief evident on his face. "Man, I was wondering what happened to you down there. Some kind of static burst nearly blew up Cinder's phone." He did a double-take at the big Scot. "Hello, Professor MacLean. Um, why did you bring him in on this, Justin?"
I figured MacLean wouldn't want me spilling his secret affiliation, or his gift. "He's familiar with the dungeons."
"I was dragged into this bloody mess by one of the Conroy's minions," MacLean said. "Justin helped me out, so I'm helping him."
"The static burst was disconcerting," Cinder said, his voice devoid of inflection as usual. "I suspected you might have been annihilated, but Professor Zagg convinced me it was likely a malfunction."
"Thankfully, just a malfunction," I said. "But the cause of it…" I whistled. "I don't even know what to think." I was grateful for Cinder changing the subject, even if the golem hadn't intended to.
MacLean and I told them the details, drawing sounds of amazement from the historian. He consulted the diagrams, but found nothing indicating a room of any sort where the arch sat.
"Maybe it was a getaway portal," Zagg suggested. "After all, the Illuminati were very secretive."
"Not so bloody much anymore," MacLean said in a disgusted voice.
Zagg's eyes widened. "You know something about the Illuminati?"
The big Scot's mouth opened a fraction, the expression on his face clearly indicating he felt like a moron for having opened his big mouth. "They're in movies…and stuff," he said. "Now, about that portal—"
"You're the Illuminati Justin knows," Zagg said, eyes narrowed.
I didn't want Zagg's personal interests to interfere with the matter at hand, so I jumped back into the conversation. "There are people possibly dying right this very minute because of that arch. Do you think Healer Hutchins might be able to help?"
"How?" MacLean said. "She'd just look at it and be as confused as the rest of us."
"We can't just sit here." I huffed out a breath.
"This is a rather vexing problem," Cinder said, never looking up from his work with the ASE and the scroll. "I would suggest a team meeting. Perhaps our cumulative processing abilities will solve the problem." He looked up at me, gray eyes never blinking, and said, "It is time for a brainstorm."
I grinned. "Gold star for your first successful use of an idiom."
"Thank you, Justin. I will proudly display my gold star." Cinder simulated a stiff smile, showing a few too many teeth, though not enough to frighten small children, and turned back to his work with the scrolls and ASE.
I figured Shelton and Bella would probably be finished doing…whatever. I really didn't want to think about where their kissing had led. I called, and told them to expect a group.
"I'll order pizza," Shelton said.
I'd kind of wanted chicken wings, but didn't complain about it.
I arrived with my ever-growing entourage, made introductions. MacLean and Shelton exchanged grips.
"Been too long since we attacked Greek Row with spider bats," MacLean said with a broad grin.
A smile broke Shelton's sober face. "Yeah. Those were the days."
I grabbed a slice of pizza and nommed it in a matter of seconds. As I was grabbing seconds, I heard a disturbance and turned to see Zagg, one hand gripping Shelton's collar, the other cocked back threateningly.
"Whoa!" I said, blurring over to hold Zagg's arm. "What's going on?"
"Let him," Shelton said, face dull and impassive. "I deserve it."
"You're damned right you deserve it, you bastard!" Zagg shouted, straining uselessly against my grip. He pushed Shelton away, jerked his arm from mine. "Did you know about this, Justin?"
Crap. Shelton must have told him about the evidence planting. "I just found out today."
"And you were going to tell me when?" His angry face melted into a hurt expression. "I trusted you, man!"
"I did what I promised, Zagg. Nothing has changed. I didn't want to tell you because I knew this"—I waved my hand between him and Shelton—"would happen. There are other important matters at stake here, damn it." I struck a fist into my palm. "Kids are dying, the Conroys are trying to let the Seraphim into our world, and we don't have time for a personal conflict to destroy everything!" I was shouting at the top of my lungs by the end, as frustration and desperation swelled in an insurmountable tide. "What in the hell do I have to do to get everyone to cooperate?" I threw up my hands. Stormed away.
"Justin, wait," said Zagg in a contrite voice. "Please."
I stopped. Turned. "What do you want? I'm trying to make a dramatic exit to prove my point."
Zagg lowered his head. "I'm sorry I let my temper get the best of me. I'll wait to deal with this jackass"—he thumbed Shelton's direction—"after we save the world. Okay?"
I took a deep breath. It failed to clear the knot in my stomach and the pressure in my chest, but the frustration faded, leaving behind its partner in crime, desperation, to remind me how hopeless our task seemed.
"Looks like a fun lot," MacLean said, taking a big bite of pepperoni pizza. "I think I'm going to enjoy this."
I moved the group to the planning room. A large conference table stretched part of the length, giving it a polished look, even though we were down to three chairs thanks to Shelton's earlier outburst. I called Meghan on my phone since she was a healer, and might have some idea as to how we could treat those suffering like Lina. Once everyone was assembled, I filled in the gang on my and MacLean's little adventure.
Meghan, her pint-sized holographic image hovering above my phone, pursed her lips in thought and said nothing for a long moment after I finished. "I remember something very similar to this happening some years ago, but the cause was much different."
