Rana, sitting on her knees at the table, looked up at him and sipped some warm sake. “When meet two kings,” she said in Egyptian, “great is the conflict between their Ib.” She thought for a moment. “Ego, Miles.” She smiled. “Is ego word- no, sorry.” She shook her head and corrected her syntax. “Ego is the nearest word in English. Have, both of you, very large ones.”
Miles knew she had a point. “Becoming great, your usage of English,” he complimented her in Egyptian, trying to change the subject.
“Please, use English... Appreciate, I do, the familiar tongue, but… I need to learn new one gooder- better.”
Hitomi looked up and closed her laptop. “Rana, you are doing very well. English is difficult- hard to learn. Lots of irregular conjugations.”
Rana shrugged. “Do you speak, Hitomi, many languages? How many?”
Hitomi closed her eyes for a moment. “Six or seven, some much better than others. Eight if you count Egyptian now, but mine is much worse than your English.” She held up the sake, offering some to Miles. He nodded.
She smiled as she poured him a small cup. “The boss is quite a piece of work, sometimes, but he means well.”
“I know,” shrugged Miles. “Maybe that’s the problem. He’s too likeable, too reasonable. And sometimes you just feel like punching something.”
Hitomi shrugged and pushed the cup towards him. “I can put out a mat if you want to spar a few rounds.”
“What- with him? I can’t picture that going well.” He picked up the drink.
“No, with me.”
“Now that, I really can’t picture.”
Hitomi gave a small smile. “I think you’d be surprised.”
Miles regarded the slight assistant with curiosity. “Now you’re worrying me.” He took a sip from his cup. “Mmm. I may eat something after all.”
The phone in his pocket started buzzing. It was Maris. “Maris? What’s going on?”
“Oh my god Miles! It’s all gone wrong! Marisol is-!” She cried, loud enough that Hitomi could hear over the phone. She turned and watched as Miles spoke.
“Maris, calm down- tell me what’s happened.” Hitomi looked at him, pointing to the phone, then the speaker embedded in the table, as the Magician walked up to their group. “Maris- the Magician’s here, too. I have to put you on speaker.”
“Oh my god- he’s gone, she’s gone- I don’t know what to do!” she said again, her voice now amplified so the whole room turned.
“Maris,” Miles continued. “Please, slowly. Tell us what happened to Marisol.”
---
The assistants all started talking at once as soon as Maris finished, accusing, yelling, questioning.
“Enough,” the Magician said, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. The room grew quiet as he picked up a tablet, and switched the green marker in Santa Cruz to bright red. “Like Maris said, the door’s gone. They’re not in Santa Cruz anymore. Maris, I’m sending Laurel to pick you up. We will get Marisol back.”
“Boss?” Laurel questioned. “Shouldn’t I start the web crawler again? Search for the sideshow?”
“No. We’re past phase one. I gave Marisol a tracker as a failsafe. If the pattern holds, the sideshow’s going to pop up again in two or three days. As soon as that demon opens his door, anywhere in the world, we’re going to start getting a ping. I will get us there in less than 28 hours, even if I have to violate international treaties and no-fly zones to do it. That’s all the lead time he’s going to get, because this time, we are going to be ready.” He looked around at everyone.
“Laurel, go, now. Maris- collect a few fliers if you can, have a drink if you need to, do whatever to collect your thoughts, but be ready for Laurel.” He hung up the phone. “Hitomi, call back my jet from whoever we’ve rented it to. Get it to San Martin airport and have it fueled up and on standby. Robyn, clear out some space, then get the CNC router, the laser etcher, and the 3D fabricators set up. Amy, help her however she asks. I don’t know what we’re going to make yet, but I want to be ready to make it as soon as possible.”
He turned to Rana, and said a few words in Egyptian. She bowed and hurried to his office.
Finally, he turned to the mystic. “Miles. If I was angry, it would be at the demon, not you and Maris. I don’t get angry. I get things done. And every one of my assistants will tell you when I want to get something done, nothing stops me. You, Miles? You are going to stop making excuses. You are going to stop complaining my tricks and secrets are bullshit, my world is weird, and my research turned up only garbage. You are going to remember that you are an expert in demonology in your world, and the preeminent expert in this one, and you are going to stop cowering from that demon. You are going realize that I have absolute faith that you will figure out how to beat it, and you are going to see exactly what I can bring to bear to help you do it; and I swear to you by your True Name that we are going to both save Cassandra and Marisol, and send that demon back to whatever hell it came from, permanently. Because despite how dastardly and cunning and evil it imag