“I know that.” I hadn’t known that, not really, but it fit with what I’d suspected after hearing Claude talk about the Athenaeum moving, and with the transport of the store from England to Portland.
“—And it generates its own power,” Wallach continued as if I hadn’t interrupted him. “The node is simply a backup, if that.”
That, I really hadn’t known. “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Ariadne Duwelt told me the named Neutralities are the largest nodes in the world. If the oracle isn’t using the node, why would it need to be so large?”
“It’s not about need,” Wallach said. He returned to the box and hoisted out another contraption, this one bigger than the first and resembling a scared cat. “The oracle’s proximity to the node encourages its growth—you know nodes grow and shrink naturally over time? All the named Neutralities have the same effect on their nodes, though some, like the Sanctuary and the Labyrinth, are more integrated than others. The oracle will be in no danger.”
I still resented his high-handed assumption that he had the right to use my Neutrality any way he chose. “You’re planning an untested experiment on Abernathy’s’ premises. Even if it doesn’t drain the oracle’s power, how do I know there won’t be other side effects? I heard about the houseflies!”
Wallach scowled. “The interbreeding worked,” he muttered. “Create a couple of self-propelling organic cameras the size of ponies and nobody ever lets you forget about it.”
“It’s going to be fine, Helena,” Viv said, a note of pleading in her voice. “We’ve done all sorts of testing and planning, and it’s perfectly safe.”
“And this will end the Long War, Mrs. Campbell, I can promise you that,” Wallach said.
“Meaning that even if you screw up, it won’t matter, because there won’t be any more invaders to fight?” I said sarcastically.
Wallach closed his eyes and tilted his head heavenward as if praying for patience. “Mrs. Campbell,” he said, finally looking at me, “you have done nothing but try to obstruct this project from the beginning. You—no, let me finish. You are worried about irrelevancies and issues I’ve already corrected for. I’m not sure where your hostility comes from, but I promise you this: I know this plan will work. I’ve poured a lifetime’s worth of scientific study into it, I have performed small-scale tests successfully, and I have absolutely no doubt that this magic will permanently prevent the invaders from accessing our world. Now, if you insist on standing in my way, I’ll call the Board of Neutralities and get an injunction. I would prefer you cooperate willingly.”
I gaped, stunned by his attack. “I have not tried to obstruct you,” I managed. “The oracle gave you all those auguries, not me. It cares enough about this project that it even gave me auguries to warn you when you didn’t listen to your own. Mr. Wallach, I want your plan to work. But if the oracle thinks something is wrong, don’t you think you should listen?”
“I did.” Wallach set the Tinker Toy cat on the counter. “I identified the flaws the auguries suggested and corrected for them. Why isn’t that enough for you?”
It was a good question. I had only my instincts to tell me Wallach wasn’t listening to the oracle’s warnings. That, and Viv’s concerns. “Viv, what do you think?”
Viv bit her lip and looked from me to Wallach. “I…think we’ve covered everything,” she said. “All the plans and all the tests have gone perfectly. Helena, everything’s going to be fine.”
“I don’t like the idea of Abernathy’s being involved,” I said. “Why not the Gunther Node?”
“That really could be disastrous,” Wallach said. “Not because this could endanger the node, because it can’t, but there are so many people at the Gunther Node it complicates the magic. The store isn’t nearly so crowded.”
I opened my mouth to protest again. Wallach held up a hand to forestall me. “Why don’t we let the oracle decide?” he said. “I’ll ask for an augury predicting our success. Will that satisfy you?”
I thought about it. “All right. But if it says to stop, you stop. No more grousing about how the oracle isn’t being cooperative.”
I handed Wallach a sheet of paper torn from the back of the ledger—we were running out of pages from having done that so often—and watched him write his question in big, looping cursive even I could read. Should I go ahead with this project on Abernathy’s’ premises?
I folded the paper in half and put it into my pocket. “I’ll be right back.”
As I expected, the oracle’s presence was tangible the second I stepped inside. Danger, Helena, it said. Warning.
“I know that. You need to give me an augury that’s obvious so there’s no quibbling.” I sidled through one of the narrower corridors, looking for the blue glow.
Seal the cracks. Resonance. Ending. I will end.
I stopped. “You don’t mean this could be what kills you, do you?”
No. Seal the cracks. Many, some, one, none. Power strikes.
“I really don’t understand.”
Ahead, blue light flared. Here, or nowhere, the oracle said, and slipped away.
That had felt fairly unequivocal. What Mr. Wallach proposed to do was seal the cracks allowing invaders into our world. And it sounded like the oracle wanted the plan to happen here. But I didn’t like the sound of “danger.”
I followed the blue light to a bookcase near the back of the room. The augury was on an upper shelf, and I had to stretch to reach it. The title on the bright red and orange cover read Feel the Fear…and Beyond. I read it a few times, waiting for the oracle to give me more guidance, but it never returned. Finally, I made my way back to the front of the store, where I half expected to see the Tinker Toy cat mounted on the wall. But Wallach and Viv, as well as Judy, who held a broom, stood around the counter, waiting.
I handed Wallach the augury. “It’s no charge,” I said. “I don’t know how easy that is to interpret, but the oracle spoke to me, and I think it says you should go ahead.”
Wallach flipped the book open and jabbed a gnarled finger at the page. He read silently, his fingertip following the lines of text. He closed the book and did it again, and a third time. When he closed the book for the final time, he said, “I’m satisfied if you are, Mrs. Campbell.”
“This is important enough I want it to succeed,” I said. “What do you need?”
“Just that stepladder. Oh, and some water.”
“For cleaning?”
Wallach smiled. “For a drink. I’m thirsty.”
I went down to the basement for the stepladder while Judy got Wallach and Viv bottles of water. The basement was cool and quiet year-round and smelled of damp concrete and cleaning solution. Wooden filing cabinets lined two of the walls, with metal safe deposit boxes taking up most of a third. In the back corner was the stained porcelain sink, the broom closet, and, propped against the wall beneath the stairs, a three-step folding ladder. I hauled it out and lugged it upstairs, leaving the basement light on. It was superstitious, I knew, but even after nearly three years, I still felt haunted by the ghost of Mr. Briggs, who had been custodian before me and was murdered when he wouldn’t falsify an augury.