Page 26 of Hex and the City
I hugged my elbows against the early morning chill of the courtyard. I looked to the left of the Masque, then to the right. We? Who was we? Max said nothing, crossing his arms and wearing a glum expression.
“Sorry for asking,” I said, “but what do you mean by ‘we,’ exactly? Didn’t your buddies go off to chase down the perp? Is that even the right terminology? Criminal?”
The Masque smiled, his hands clasped at his waist. “I say ‘we’ because I speak for the Masques. Everything I learn goes back to my superiors. And perpetrator wouldn’t suffice, I think, since we aren’t exactly certain of who or what has caused the anomaly. My colleagues are pursuing someone I would consider a suspect. The same word applies to the both of you.”
My hands flew up. “Whoa, whoa. I didn’t do nothing.”
“Settle down,” Max said, sighing as he took one of my hands and lowered it. “You’re acting like you’ve never been a suspect in a magical crime.”
“Because I haven’t!”
“Your friend here is correct,” the Masque said. I didn’t have time to interject and say that we weren’t quite friends. “Settling down seems prudent. This isn’t like how human law enforcement works. We aren’t hauling you in for questioning. The Lorica does things differently, as does the Council of Robes.”
What was that about robes? All I knew was that three or so in the morning was way too early for anyone to be wearing a damn suit. The Masque looked good in it, in all honesty — charcoal, slimly tailored to fit — but come on. I turned to Max to see if he’d understood any of that.
“Other organizations that keep watch over the arcane underground,” he explained. He nodded at the Masque. “The Lorica actually covers a lot of the Americas. I’m surprised that they let you step in at all.”
The Masque nodded back. “We have a keen interest in what happens around Dos Lunas in particular. Generally speaking, the Lorica leaves us well enough alone. They know that we have similar objectives of maintaining peace, delivering justice. Part of it is working with the local magical dynasties in ensuring safety for all. The Nurs, the Brillantes, the Lyons, and all the rest.”
I just nodded, pretending I understood or cared for any of these faceless arcane families. Max had already tried to bore me to death with the same lecture.
“And the two of you can help us in that mission,” the Masque continued. “Like I said, we simply want to have a little talk.”
I folded my arms and glowered, copying Max’s very best scowl. “So let’s talk.”
Still the Masque held on to his polite, neutral grin. Unnerving, but it was the first time I could study one of their masks up close. His reminded me of Venetian Carnival masks, though not nearly as elaborate. I wondered if they were allowed to decorate them as they rose up the ranks.
Almost cruder, too, how this mask in particular looked porous, like a slab of mineral or rock that had been sculpted to perfectly fit the man’s face. Or the upper half of it, at least. I couldn’t even tell how it was hanging on there, no visible straps or ribbons to hold it in place.
I couldn’t envision much of the top half of the Masque’s face apart from the clear, warm brown of his eyes. The contrast between the almost-kindness of his gaze and the tightness of his lips was somewhat jarring. The soothing purr of his voice, the charming grin — it all felt too calculated.
But anyone could see that the man behind the mask was handsome. A defined jawline, the telltale edges of high cheekbones, a sleekly gelled and combed head of black hair. But maybe it was only the effect of having half his face hidden. I always thought it was part of the reason aviator sunglasses were so popular: the pushup bra for the face.
The Masque indicated at the end of the courtyard, over where the bag thief and the other two Masques had disappeared. “I’m going to assume that you don’t know the person in the black clothing. Our good friend, the anomalist.”
“Correct,” Max said. “We were planning to run after them, not with them. But I suppose your good friends have that covered.”
I gestured at the part of the courtyard that was caught in the anomaly’s field. “They messed up that entire area. You saw for yourself. I’m just a finder. We both are. Me and Max over here, I mean. Listen. You’re being awfully calm and casual about all this. What if someone had spotted the anomaly from one of these windows?”
Max sighed, rubbing his eyelids with the tips of his fingers. Hey, it was a fair question, all right? He quirked his eyebrow, giving me a tired look. The sooner we got this over with, his eyes seemed to say, the sooner we could get out of here.
Or maybe he was reminding me that the Masque was supposed to be asking the questions, and not me. But the Masque was more than happy to answer.
“Suffice to say that we have eyes and ears everywhere,” the Masque said. “We also have methods of — ah, shall we say, eliminating proof of our activities.”
“You can’t be serious.” I leaned forward, my mouth open. “You kill the witnesses?”
The Masque scoffed. “That isn’t what I said at all. We have the means to delete certain memories. To the general human populace, we are invisible. The Masques may as well not exist. But back to my questions. To clarify, your names are — let’s see here — Maximilian Drake, and Leonardo Alcantara.”
The man was reading from the palm of his hand. The space occupied by the ominous, threatening ball of light was now projecting a tiny screen. It almost looked like he was remotely accessing a magical laptop. A form of scrying, possibly?
“That’s right,” Max said, nodding along, being very cooperative. “We’re both finders. Look, are we done here? We didn’t do anything wrong. I think you can tell by now.”
“Oh, we’re only trying to clarify a few things, Mr. Drake. Now, if you aren’t working with this individual, why are you so concerned with their comings and goings?”
Max and I exchanged cautious glances. The Masque must have read our faces in an instant.
“You do realize, gentlemen, that finding in itself is very much a gray area where my peers and I are concerned. We offer you finders and spiders quite a bit of leeway in your operations. But the very moment your activities lead to consequences that may threaten the safety of both the arcane underground and the mundane human population — well. That is when the hammer must fall.”
