Time to find out.
I set off on the route that’ll serve me best if I have to defend myself here. If I don’t see any sign of a threat soon, I’ll book a ride and get the rest of the way to the dance club that way.
As I leave my house behind, I cast ephemera in every direction. The gathered energy stretches out around me until it forms a thin but sensitive layer about thirty feet in diameter with me at the center, like the skirt of an immense ballgown.
Little tingles shoot through the magical construct when it brushes up against security enchantments embedded in fences and gates. It’ll alert me to any magic that touches it.
I’ve only walked four blocks when a thicker wobble ripples through my net. A condensed patch of magical energy has just crept up to the edge of my woven ephemera, almost directly behind me.
It follows me down the street, wavering a little across the sidewalk but always staying behind me, within the outer rings of my net. I can’t hear any footsteps, don’t see anyone behind me when I duck down briefly as if to remove a pebble from my shoe and peek beneath my arm.
Someone’s cloaked themselves in magic like I’ve done in the past for my own purposes. Too bad I can’t trust this person to have similarly good intentions.
I grip the strap of my backpack, channeling more ephemera into its mass. It’ll make a handy weapon if I need one.
My paring knife presses against my forearm where I’ve tucked it into my sleeve, ready to spring into my hand on call.
Just to be sure of my suspicions, I make a couple of random turns. The cloaked presence stays on my trail without hesitation.
Definitely not a coincidence; definitely following me.
My heart thuds faster, but my strides lengthen with confidence.
This is good. We can get the worst part over with quickly.
My follower will probably hesitate to attack me right outside any of the stately mansions in this neighborhood. I can give them a better setting.
They won’t realize it’s better for me too.
I take another turn and head toward the river valley. It’s not long before the silhouettes of treetops blot out the lights of the buildings on the other side of the massive park.
Without missing a beat, I head down the nearest path.
There’s no need to silence my footsteps now that I’m far from home. I wrap that energy around my legs and fists instead, to bolster my reaction time.
Professor Kwong would be proud… if I could ever tell him about this confrontation.
In the isolation of the park, my follower pulls nearer, closing maybe half the distance. They continue to hang back there, biding their time.
Impatience twitches through my nerves. When a narrower dirt path appears in the dim glow of the distant streetlamps, I veer down it.
My sneakers squelch through patches of mud. Chilly drops of pooled rain sprinkle my hair from the damp leaves overhead.
The park turns into an actual forest for a stretch here—with maybe too many obstacles for an ideal ambush. Just up ahead, though…
As the trees thin again, the warble of the rushing river fills my ears. I catch glimpses of it between the trunks across the span of grass that leads to its bank. Moonlight glints off the frothing currents.
It’s fat and furious with today’s rainfall. That’s a vibe I can get behind.
Before I leave the forest completely, the presence behind me picks up its pace. I gather myself, contracting my net of magic for other uses. Every nerve quivers with alertness.
With a waft of air, my follower lunges at my back.
I whip to the side, heaving a wave of energy at the figure at the same time to deflect any blow. A form stutters into view, dark hoodie over dark jeans, feet stumbling with my shove. A knife glints in one hand.
The figure spins to face me, and I find myself staring into Kenneth Hearst’s pale face.
I considered so many possibilities, but he was never one of them. My mind jars against the shock. The image flashes behind my eyes of those long-ago articles, the photos of him side by side with Asher’s, joint victims of some other murderer.
