How deep does all of this go?
There’s so much Chester doesn’t know anymore. His heart twists at the thought.
“How about you?” Sawyer asks now, glancing at the piece of paper on the table. “Is that a spell?”
“It’s—” Obie flicks his wrist, opens a pocket dimension, and drops the spell into it. “Yeah. Just one that I requested from the Deep for, um. For a friend.”
Sawyer looks confused. “Requested from the Deep? What do you mean?”
“See?” Chester says, raising his eyebrows at Obie. “I’m not the only one who didn’t know about that.”
Obie’s jaw works. “Yeah. The Deep keeps a record of all casted spells, so it’s possible to request a copy of that record from the Deep. It’s… not a big deal.”
“Well, that kind ofisa big deal, Obie,” Sawyer says, exasperated, and something about her voice?—
Chester swallows hard. He remembers Sawyer using that tone with him and JJ—mostly himself, if he’s being honest—whenever they missed an obvious feint or block during training.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
“Why couldn’t we have used that during the rift-opening epidemic?” Sawyer demands, and Chester sits up straighter, intrigued. “We could’ve created a counterspell weeks sooner if we’d just?—”
“We couldn’t,” Obie cuts in, “because the Deep was destabilized, remember? The power threshold to tap into it was exponentially higher, and even if Icould’vesurpassed it, accessing the Deep while it was unstable would’ve been asking to get killed.”
Huh. That’s a good point, actually. Chester rests his chin on his fist, considering Obie curiously. He knows that Ez is the best demon spellcaster in Redwater, but he forgets sometimes that Obie has accumulated impressive magical knowledge over the millennia, too.
Impressive knowledge about a lot of things, really.
Sawyer winces. “Yeah. That makes sense,” she says, and her eyes narrow. “Now that it’s stable, though, what if I wanted the incantation of a casted spell? What information would I need?”
“First of all,youwouldn’t do it,” Obie says. “I’ve heard horror stories from Ez about your spellcasting, Solomon. Even with a stable magic reservoir, you’d get yourself killed.”
Sawyer scowls, but she doesn’t deny it. “Fine. So what if I wanted to askyouto get the incantation of a casted spell for me?”
Obie’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s this about?”
“The power signatures.”
“Power signatures?” Chester repeats, squinting at Obie.
Obie’s expression is curiously blank. “Right. Those,” he says. “If you can, uh, get me the approximate dates, times, and locations where you think the spells were cast, then I might be able to get you the incantations. No guarantees, though—not every magical power signature is necessarily caused by a spell, and the casting and the activation might’ve happened at different times.”
“Well, the location is usually going to be the Redwater Sanctum,” Sawyer says, and Chester sits bolt upright, his heart stuttering. “Although Kingsborough seems to be getting in on the action nowadays, too. And I can get you a list of dates and times from the past few years.”
“Whatpower signatures?” Chester demands, and he plants a hand on Obie’s shoulder, pushing a thought through their fledgling telepathic link.What power signatures is she talking about?
Obie twitches, but he doesn’t respond—not in Chester’s head, and not out loud, either. “Sure, I can check them out for you. It just… might take a few weeks. Life has been pretty hectic lately.”
“No problem,” Sawyer says. “We’ve waited over six years. We can wait a little longer.”
Impatiently, Chester pushes another thought into Obie’s head.There have been magical power signatures coming from the Sanctum for six years?
Will you shut up?Obie snaps back.I can’t concentrate on both of you at once.
Then just answer the question!
Predictably enough, Obie doesn’t answer the question. “Sounds good. You can text me the list, and I’ll let you know if I get any hits.”
“Thanks, Obie.” Sawyer lets out a slow breath, her gaze driftingtowards Redwater’s southern hills—the hills where the Sanctum, her old home, is nestled. “I’m worried about them.”
