Frankie was on her feet in a flash, calling for her apprentices before asking more questions of the Spirit Guardian still flaring its blue wings before her. “When did this happen, Hrr? Both the scent that faded and this attack.”

Now that its initial fury had calmed slightly, the Guardian’s replies were more directed, quieter, and Riordan heard nothing from it. Frankie listened with furrowed intent though, even as Mark and Lucinda entered from the workroom.

“What’s--” Lucinda started before stopping to stare at Hrr. She seemed unwilling to distract Frankie with questions, which Riordan could respect.

“The Guardian reported some sort of death magic touching the border,” Riordan answered anyway, filling the pair in on the little that he knew. “Frankie’s getting details now. I expect you all are about to get very busy.”

Mark nodded, turning on his heel to head back into the workroom, saying, “I’ll clean up while Frankie is talking to Hrr.”

Given Riordan had caught a bit from Frankie’s lectures to her apprentices about how dangerous it could be to leave half-finished spells lying around, that sounded wise. Lucinda also sprung into action, heading into the workroom for a second before returning with three satchels. He recognized Frankie and Lucinda’s mage kits and assumed the third must be Mark’s. They were all large bags with a big pocket and many smaller pockets. Riordan couldn’t imagine carrying something like that himself, not for magic. He’d feel like some sort of suburban mom with one of those. Fortunately, Quinn’s systems of accessories and pockets showed there were other methods.

Yet another thing for Riordan to ponder if he survived long enough for it to matter. It wasn’t like he knew how to use half the things in their kits as it was. He had too damn much to learn to pretend to be a mage of any real skill.

Riordan knew he’d be benched again. He tried not to let that frustration rankle. It would goad him into bad decisions quickly if he let it.

Frankie turned towards all of them again, breaking off her one-sided conversation with Hrr to direct her troops. “Mark,” she called out and the apprentice popped his head back through the doorway to listen, “You are on reserve here. This feels like a probe against our defenses rather than an attack. Lucinda, you will be taking point on this. I’ll be with you, but staying back unless it proves more serious than it seems. I’ll be calling in the agents as well, since their specialist will be most useful to figure out the magical intention behind this and to clean up any lingering residue.”

She turned towards Riordan, pinning him in place with a pointed finger. “You stay here. Stay out of trouble. We have enough to handle this already.”

“If trouble doesn’t come for me, I’ll stay away from it,” Riordan replied. He didn’t want to make that promise, but the last thing he should do would be to make things harder on their response team by making them worry about him as a liability too.

“Bah,” Frankie muttered, “More truthful than a yes. Aggravating fool.”

Oh yeah, she liked him. Riordan could just tell. Frankie and Lucinda were out the door a moment later, mage kits slung over their shoulders. Mark returned to clean up. The Guardian vanished from casual perception again, likely returned to the border spell. Calm descended once more upon the room, leaving Riordan feeling oddly bereft and off balance, as if he should be moving forward instead of standing still.

Tugging on his pack bond, Riordan thought of Daniel. His friend appeared a moment later, floating nearby and pouting. “You know,” Daniel sighed dramatically, “I could be busy one of these days. Not that it will stop you from calling me like a good dog to your side, I think.”

Riordan allowed himself to smile despite the situation. He had gotten good enough at reading Daniel’s tone and posture to know that his friend was teasing. “Thank you for coming. Something is going down at the territory border. Can you help me put together a mage kit?”

Daniel startled at the request, pointing at himself. “You want my help? Why would I know anything about mage kits?”

“Because I’m not looking to put together a proper one,” Riordan replied, moving to peer into Mark’s kit, still sitting on the coffee table where Lucinda had left it. “I wouldn’t be able to use most of this stuff. I want something small that I can manage to use to give my made-up spells some structure if it comes to it.”

Riordan didn’t like the fact that their four best mages were all off together, even if it was in response to a valid magical attack. It made his skin crawl. Mark could handle more than Riordan when it came to things requiring skill, but Riordan wanted to have a bag of tricks, just in case that itching anxiety resolved into something real and negative.

“Well,” Daniel drawled, considering, “I’d say you want paper and a pack of different kinds of writing and drawing things then. Maybe a couple of the rocks and herbs you were studying, if any were more general amplifiers? Or for protection, healing, or driving out evil. I think any of those are likely to be relevant.”

Paper? Riordan blinked and then realized where Daniel was going with that. Most of the shaman had been drawing magic circles with herbs and stuff to boost it further, but just having a symbol set that meant something to Riordan, just the act of drawing something, could be enough to shape a spell. It would be a good supplement to making up words and gestures, which were his most transportable kit and what he’d likely use if he decided to wing casting mid-fight. After a moment’s consideration, Riordan grabbed the box of sample stones and a bunch of dried lavender. He could recognize that plant at least and its uses had included healing, protection, and purification, along with a few others.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be using it for a love spell though.

Riordan looked down at his clothes and frowned again. He was still wearing the damned sweats. That didn’t feel right for this. He headed back to the pack house to track down the one pair of his own clothing, yelling as he left to let Mark know where he was going. Mark might not worry as much as the rest of them, but well, Riordan had a track record of poor impulse control when it came to shit like this. Daniel came along, floated after Riordan effortlessly.

Unsurprisingly, Norris had laundered Riordan’s battered clothing and left them on the top of Riordan’s borrowed dresser again. Which was good, because Riordan had no idea where the laundry room was in this sprawling space and Norris hadn’t returned from shopping yet to ask. Getting dressed was a simple matter of stripping down and changing, Daniel being polite enough to turn away even if Riordan didn’t care. Being allowed to look hurt no one. Daniel liked how Riordan looked and wasn’t going to do more than look without Riordan’s consent. He never really got what the big deal was, under all the cultural and religious taboos.

Then again, a lot of things about attraction and relationships never made sense to Riordan. There was probably something he was missing there that would have let him understand why such rules were needed. Whatever.

Once more garbed in a t-shirt, cargo pants, and boots, the black rope knotted around his left arm starkly visible, Riordan went in search of some pads of papers and pens. His search started in the office room he’d been using for the data entry. The desk there disgorged two different types of lined paper and a pad of graph paper. He put the smallest one in a pocket and carried the others for now. He really needed something more like a sketchbook, since pre-printed lines likely weren’t great for magical circles, but settled for shoving a few sheets of blank printer paper in the graph paper pad and taking it all with him for now. The office also gave him a couple of pens and pencils, mostly in blue, black, and graphite gray. He tested them, taking his favorite winner of each color and a sharpie to place in his pocket as well.

Carrying around a whole bunch of dried lavender was getting old. Riordan rummaged through the kitchen until he found a plastic jar from the recycling bin and shredded the lavender into that. He put the bottle in another pocket and took the rest of the mauled herb back to the shaman workshop. He left it on the coffee table, unsure if Frankie would want him to just hang it up like he hadn’t totally wrecked the bunch. Daniel managed to smother his giggles as he watched Riordan look from the herb drying hooks, to the squashed and stripped lavender and back, considering his options. Definitely the coffee table.

Riordan found a small cloth bag and was transferring stones from the case into the bag when he heard a phone ring in the workroom. Mark was still in there. Riordan had heard him chanting the same spell he’d been doing earlier and left the apprentice alone. The door wasn’t fully closed though. Riordan heard the chanting wrap up and then Mark answering the phone, moving closer to hear any updates.

“Billy? What’s--” Mark began, cutting off as the voice on the other side of the line began rattling off some sort of report. Combined with the name, Riordan recognized the voice as Billy Culver, the security guard assigned to the agents, but could only make out about one word in three past the muffling of the phone speaker.

The way Mark jumped to his feet and rushed to grab his mage kit made it damn clear it wasn’t good news. Mark made a few more uh-huhs and mm noises and then said, “Got it. I’ll pick up the patrollers and head over there right now.”

Then he hung up, shoving the phone into his pocket. Riordan walked with him as Mark headed out the front door, asking, “Trouble at the border?”

“Not that simple,” Mark said, shaking his head, “Lucinda and Quinn are still cleaning up the magical mess at the border. Agent Ahlgren is staying with them. Frankie and Billy are headed to Empire, same as me, but I’m closer, so they wanted me to get out there with some of the security team right away.”

“Empire?” Riordan repeated, trying to think of why Mark would need to go to that tiny quaint town, much less at such speed. “More death magic, inside the border?”

“Maybe,” Mark said, clearly distracted as he popped inside the pack house long enough to grab keys for one of the larger pack SUVs. “All I know right now is that Frankie got the pack distress signal that meant a pack member was under attack. I’d bet you were right and it’s their mundane members plus maybe some trinkets, rather than the death mages themselves. Slipping right under our radar.”

“Why Empire though?” Riordan asked, half to himself, pondering the tactical situation.

Mark shrugged. “Didn’t know where the pack lands were inside our territory? It doesn’t seem like the death mages know much about shifters at all.”

“In which case, going to the largest town inside the weird magical wall zone would be the most logical start, especially if the death mages were either there to spot another magic user or rigged up an item that would do it,” Riordan continued that line of thought. “It’s not like most of us bother to try hiding our magical signatures, especially within pack territory. Who did they attack?”

Flinging open the driver door to the SUV, Mark turned back to Riordan and winced. “That’s the worst part. The distress signal came from Maudy and Norris.”