“I’m trying to grow the roots,” she said as I approached. “I’m searching for underground cables and pipes, anything I can disrupt in case we need a distraction.”

“How’d you know I was back?”

“Your coat. It’s not quiet.”

I filled them in on what I’d found. “The sirens could still be here. If someone dampened their magic the way they did with the other prisoners, it would explain why my tracking signal went dead.”

I approached the doors, my attention drawn to the wards like Smudge chasing a laser pointer. I tugged the sleeve of my jacket over my hand and gently tested the handle. The door didn’t budge. “Less than a year since the world discovered magic, and they’ve managed to renovate this whole facility. Wards over everything, armed guards with magical protection, and who knows how many inhuman prisoners snatched and locked up. Whoever’s behind this, they’re efficient.”

The more I studied the eddies of text in the wards, the more the patterns began to make sense. There were currents . . . fixed points that seemed to anchor the magic in place. I concentrated on the closest, then swore.

“What is it?” asked Lena.

“Feist.”

“English please, love.”

“Raymond Feist. One piece of the magic here comes from his Riftwar series. It references a soul jar used to trap the life of a rather nasty necromancer.” I pointed to pale lines of fresh mortar, where bricks had been carved out and replaced. “I think they created the jars, then physically sealed them into the wall. There are other spells working in parallel, but the soul jars are strongest.”

Lena sucked her breath through her teeth.

“What does necromancy have to do with anything?” Deb asked.

“Watch.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted so badly to be wrong. I reached out, bringing my ring of invisibility toward one of the soul jars.

I recognized the attack the instant it began. That didn’t stop me from nearly pissing myself as shadows converged on the spot I’d touched, then leaped toward me.

My invisibility flickered. Two incorporeal beings of shadow and madness ripped at my magic. I jumped back, but even that single touch was enough to freeze my veins. These creatures sought not merely to kill me, but to unmake me. To dissolve my thoughts and erase my memories and burn my component cells until nothing remained but raw, angry magic for them to feed on.

“Isaac?” Lena moved toward me, her swords raised.

“Stay back!” I reached for the spells in the wall and poured my own strength and will into the text, strengthening their magic to drag my attackers back into their metaphorical jars. Slowly, they quieted. I tugged my invisibility back into place like a torn coat.

“Who’s going to tell me what the hell just happened?” asked Deb.