“I get that.” Ahtisham’s voice was conciliatory, but he wasn’t backing down. “I was on the battlefield and I understand that exigent circumstances sometimes require you to take action which looks precipitous in hindsight. However, this is precipitous in foresight, and all I'm asking is for a little logistical and tactical information. For example, how do I identify shaman?”
The SUV was damningly silent.
Les answered. “You can't. You could search for the glow of shamanic marks, but sometimes it's hard to see them. Kavon’s skin is so dark that if he is standing in sunlight, his blue freckles don’t show up.”
Kavon’s traitorous brain flashed to Bill Anderson wearing those stupid oversized headphones and calling Kavon “Nigger-Rig Boucher.” His classmates had been able to see his marks just fine.
The conversation in the car continued. “And Darren...” Les scoffed. “I've never seen a shaman with a lighter shamanic marks. I'm fairly sure you need black light to spot them.”
“So the only consistent sign of a shaman using his power is also unreliable,” Ahtisham summarized. “Great.”
“We’ll discuss logistics when we get back to the office,” Kavon said firmly. “This is simple canvassing. We’re there to ask if they’ve seen anything suspicious in the area. If our suspect is there, he or she will probably keep a low profile.” At least Kavon hoped that was the case. His gut said their reporter friend from the hotel was their best suspect, and if Mason Butler was their suspect, then he had gone out of his way to talk to him and Darren. He had already done enough reconnaissance to identify potential enemies.
Kavon pulled the SUV into a parking space about two blocks down from the WCN building. In DC, that was as good as it got with parking. “Ahtisham, Les, go make small talk with the WCN staff.”
“Right,” Les said. “So, we’re just on a blind canvass of anyone who visited the scenes because we have no other leads. Our cover is actually pretty close to reality.” He got out of the car.
Ahtisham paused. “Are you two going to be okay here? I could wait with you until Joe or Coretta show up.”
“We’re fine,” Kavon said. The offer aggravated him more than it should have, but he tried to keep his voice even. Ahtisham studied him for a second before giving a single nod and getting out to follow Les.
Darren sighed, and his disapproval was a weight Kavon was having trouble carrying. “I’m going to look around the spirit plane,” he said. He closed his eyes, but the link into that alternate plane eluded him, and then Darren grabbed his arm.
“Not without me.”
When Kavon looked over, Darren had a furious expression. However, Kavon didn’t need a babysitter. “I can navigate the spirit plane as long as I don’t go far from the exit.”
“And if you’re attacked?” Darren demanded. “I don’t have Bennu here. I can’t come after you or help either of us find the exit if Anzu creates the sort of spirit plane storm Bennu did that one time.”
That one time. That would have been the time Darren had nearly died saving Kavon from O’Brien’s slavery spell. “If I’m not back in a half hour, have Les come back. He’s been working with Salma, so his guide’s swarm should be able to work together to find me, even if I’m not near the entrance.”
Darren opened his mouth to protest, but Kavon used every bit of energy to shove his consciousness away from Earth. He had that momentary sense of falling out of his body and then he was on the spirit plane. He coughed and held his arm up to act as a shield for his mouth and nose as dust swirled around him. Maybe he technically didn’t have a mouth or a nose here, but his brain still reacted as if it were connected to a body.
Before Kavon could take a single step, Darren appeared next to him. He must have been drawing a breath when he crossed over because he began coughing and choking on the dust. Kavon wrapped his arms around Darren, protecting his face from the raging storm. Kavon caught a flash of gold and copper feathers, but he couldn’t see the animal itself. He braced for an attack from an unknown guide, but then the dust cloud started to settle.
“Ah, so you are tracking the enemy. I was starting to worry about you.” Dave shouted over the dying roar of the storm. He walked out of the cloud, his form becoming more solid with every step. All around, the spirit plane was torn up. In the distance, the Egyptian monuments still stood, but they appeared sandblasted—the color largely stripped off and the sharp edges dulled.
Kavon stepped in front of Darren, shielding him. “Where is it?”
“Gone.” Dave shrugged. “But he left a mess behind.” Dave gestured toward a section of disturbed ground. The stream that ran through the area had turned into a muddy swamp.
Kavon cursed softly.
“I haven’t seen you here searching for him. This is what you’ve trained for.” Dave sounded disappointed. Kavon remembered that tone too well. That was the tone he’d used every time Kavon had failed to control his bull or complete a magical spell. “You should be here trying to track that monster down before he can do more damage. You’re a shaman first and an FBI agent second. Remember that.”
“We’re searching for his human partner.” Kavon snapped out the words. He was not a novice shaman seeking approval.
Dave poked the air. “What did I teach you about fighting shamans? The guide is the weak point.”
“Not when the guide is an ifrit. They are too strong to fight, so the human is the weak point.” Kavon’s voice rose and his temper was about to snap when Darren rested his hand on his shoulder.
Instead of backing down in the face of Kavon’s anger, Dave stepped right up to him. “A human can hide—can lie. I taught you that. The guide won’t do that, so he’s easier to track. That is why shamans hide their guides.”
Kavon hadn’t realized that he had let his control over the bond slip, until he felt Darren’s righteous indignation. Darren stepped forward. “Don’t lecture us, not when you aren’t there to fight at all. Anzu is not vulnerable, not the way another guide is.”
With a sigh, Dave studied Darren with the sort of patronizing look Kavon remembered from his own years of studying under him. “Attack the ifrit here, and he will be. You haven’t been a shaman long enough to understand how this world works.”
That was pure bullshit. Before Darren could speak, Kavon took control of the conversation again. This was his teacher, and Kavon would not have Dave guilt Darren into putting himself at risk. “Any vulnerabilities Anzu has here, Pochi and Bennu share.” Since the docent were their best chance of winning the war, it made no sense to fight on a field where they would be as limited as Anzu. “If we cut the link between the shaman and Anzu, he will be essentially blind on Earth. That will give our ifrit fighters the edge.”
