Chapter 19 - The Biggest Threat

“You tied a field activation circle to the same land that you were going to draw on for the scaffolding, and you didn’t think it was important enough to mention!”

Olivia spewed the words at Northrop in a tone of pure acid. If any spittle had landed on the table, it might have eaten through the surface.

“Ladies and gentlemen, how stupid can a genius be?” she cried. “We find out today! God! You’re as blind as a witch!” She clenched her jaw and reached for a new sheet of paper. “You have to tell me everything about the circle.” She glared at him. “Everything.”

Northrop had leaned away from the witch during the worst of the tirade, but now that her command was issued, he tried to recover some dignity. He sat forward in his chair, adjusted the fall of his coat, and tried to swallow or clear his throat—it was impossible to say which, and, either way, it didn’t do anything useful.

“I told you,” he said, “there’s no way for me to know how much magic it will consume.”

“Assume the worst,” Olivia ordered. “Full revival of all the bodies.”

Northrop watched her without saying anything.

“Well?” Olivia barked.

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Northrop glanced at Darius Vasil. The vampire had pulled his chair back from the table. He sat a few feet away, sipping yet another cup of coffee while gazing at Northrop over the rim.

The fury that had been in the vampire’s eyes during “the ghoul comment” had morphed into a cold detachment. Olivia’s outburst hadn’t altered it in the slightest. Part of Northrop would’ve preferred some kind of reaction, but the rest of him was glad. He was fairly certain Vasil’s detachment was all that kept the vampire from beating the shit out of him.

Northrop turned back to the witch. “You know, most people—forgive me— any normal person—would be more concerned about the undead army than about how that army would impact the magic.”

“I’m a hell of a lot more worried about your failure to understand what constitutes ‘important information’ than I am about a bunch of zombies,” Olivia said. She was already taking notes.

“You’re not worried about your friends?”

“Your incompetence is the bigger threat.”

Northrop looked at Darius again.

Darius lowered his cup. “We have two other people inside the mansion with unusual powers that will be helpful against the zombies.”

Northrop put his open hands, palm down, on the table and gazed at them. His face pulled down in a subtle grimace, and he dragged his fingers back, slowly curling his hands into loose fists.

“Even if they’re unusual zombies?” he said, seemingly to the table.

Darius’s hand tightened around his cup, but he forced himself to sound calm—it was a force that required chains, but he managed it. “Is there more information you haven’t given us, Northrop?”

Northrop turned his head away.

“Never mind,” Darius said. “Tell Olivia everything you can about the magic. Then you can tell me what makes your zombies special.”