Chapter Text
When no one answered, the stranger took several steps toward the living room. “Please, time is of the essence. Which of you is John?”
“Uh, none of us,” Theo answered.
“John disappeared four days ago,” Gil added. “As far as we know, he’s still alive, but....”
The stranger put a hand to his head and looked away, distraught. “No, that’s... that’s not possible. I should have gone straight to him. But... perhaps you can help me anyway. You are Men of Letters, correct?”
Ardsley and Colette looked at each other in alarm, which Dean noted, but everyone else exchanged confused glances.
“In what sense?” Tarvek asked.
“Of—the Men of Letters. I mean... some of you may be young initiates, but some of you are legacies, right?”
After another exchange of confused looks, Theo answered warily, “This is the Stanford Adventure Club. Alumni chapter,” he added almost as an afterthought, as if there were any undergrads left who came to things on a regular basis aside from Sam. Well, and Van, technically, since he kept finding ways to delay his graduation by extending his coterminal degree plan.
The stranger frowned. “Stanford? We’ve never had a chapter in Palo Alto before.” He paused. “We are in Palo Alto, aren’t we?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Y’know, you’re askin’ a hell of a lot of questions for someone who just fell out of the hall closet. How ’bout you start answerin’ a few?”
Before the stranger could respond, however, Agatha, who was staring at his chest, suddenly gasped. “That star!”
The stranger startled and put a hand on his narrow tie, just below the tie tack, which Dean could now see bore the same six-pointed star that was on the hex bag Agatha had inherited from her father. “Sorry?”
Agatha looked up at the stranger’s face. “You’re Cousin Millie’s husband. You’re Henry!”
The stranger looked even more startled. “What?!”
Agatha shook her head. “Sorry. Your wife had a cousin in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania? Married name was Wright? Had a daughter named Judy?”
“Uh, that’s correct.”
“Judy is my adoptive mother. I was orphaned.”
“But... aren’t you Cuthbert’s daughter?”
Agatha blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Cuthbert Sinclair. Isn’t he your father?”
“Grandfather,” Tarvek corrected before Agatha could say anything else.
Agatha turned to him, eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”
The stranger—Henry? Henry Winchester?—shook his head. “Be that as it may, I—” But he broke off when Agatha spun back around to stare at the closet door in alarm and Gil and Zeetha also went on the alert. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s coming,” the twins chorused.
Dean had sensed something, too, but not clearly enough to put his finger on it. He had his hand on his gun, but he prepared to raise a shield over the whole group just in case this she was something he couldn’t shoot.
Henry paled. “What?”
“She’s coming,” Agatha echoed. “She’s coming—hurry, Henry, lock the door!”
Henry turned, stretched his right hand out toward the rattling closet door, and said... something that sounded a little like whatever command Dean had used the night before to break the wards on Sam’s apartment building. A female scream shook the walls of the apartment for a second before being cut off as suddenly as a door slamming. And then... nothing.
Zeetha was first to relax. “That’s it. She’s trapped between dimensions. Short of killing her, that’s the best way to eliminate the threat.”
Henry was shaking as he lowered his hand. “I... I....” Then he bolted down the hall to the guest bathroom and threw up.
As Ardsley got up and went after him, Sam turned to Dean with raised eyebrows, his expression a combination of What the hell?! , Can you believe this?, and Are we buying this?
Dean shrugged his eyebrows, answering all three questions at once: Hell if I know. All he knew for sure about Henry was that Dad hated him for having disappeared in ’58—but Dad wasn’t exactly high on the list of Dean’s favorite people right now. If Dad had had any notion that something was about to come after Sam and Jess, which his message implied that he had, he should have been there in Palo Alto to help the brothers deal with it, not sending them on a wild goose chase down to Jericho and over to Colorado and wherever the hell next to... what, throw the demon off their trail? Without the Adventure Club’s standard-issue hex bags, which the Winchesters all needed to start carrying now, that wouldn’t have done much good.
Speaking of which, Dean turned to Tarvek and signed, We need h-e-x....
Tarvek flashed him a thumbs-up, then nodded toward the hall, where Ardsley’s voice murmured something reassuring just before the toilet flushed and the water ran in the sink briefly. A moment later, Ardsley came back supporting Henry, who was wiping his face with a damp washrag.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Ardsley was asking quietly.
Henry nodded. “I’ll be all right, thanks. It’s just... the adventures I prefer are usually of a literary nature.”
Ardsley chuckled. “I hear you.”
“Now, Wooster... are you Bertram’s....”
“Great-grandson. Not that we inherited much from him.”
“Great-gra—... what....”
“It’s November 3, 2005. And... I regret to inform you... the American Men of Letters are no more.”
What little color was left in Henry’s face fled. “No... no, that... that can’t be! Surely someone survived!”
Ardsley shook his head. “If anyone did, he’s hidden himself well. We lost all contact after Abaddon’s attack.”
Henry sank into the chair Van brought him from the kitchen table. “But... but the British Men of Letters survive?”
Ardsley hesitated, then sighed. “They do.”
“Then if we can’t find any survivors... perhaps I can contact them for help.”
Ardsley shook his head. “No. I advise you most strongly not to do that.”
Henry blinked. “Why not?”
“Let’s introduce everyone first. There’ll be time enough for explanations later.”
Van brought over two more chairs, and he and Ardsley sat down in them.
Henry sighed. “I suppose I should start, then. My name, as you seem to have guessed, is Henry Winchester. John is my son. And since apparently none of you others have heard of the Men of Letters: we’re preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that man does not understand. Occasionally we intervene in matters of extreme supernatural danger, but for the most part, we leave that work to hunters.”
Dean frowned at the disdainful way Henry said hunters, but Zeetha sent him a mental nudge, warning him not to say anything yet.
“In August of 1958,” Henry continued, “I was... attending a meeting of the Men of Letters in Normal, Illinois; it was to be my final initiation. We were attacked by the demon Abaddon. The elders tried to exorcise her, but it... it didn’t work. She killed most of them. One who survived shoved something into my hand, told me to keep it safe. But I knew I’d never make it out of the building, so I... I went to a lab and used a spell to... well, to come here, I suppose. Apparently she tried to follow me; that’s what happened just now. But I still don’t understand what went wrong. The spell is supposed to lead directly to blood kin.”
Sam cleared his throat. “That would be us.”
Henry blinked. “Sorry?”
“I’m Sam. This is my brother Dean. We’re John’s sons.”
“Oh. It’s... nice to meet you. And this?” Henry asked, looking at Zeetha.
“My wife, Zeetha,” Dean stated, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“Hey,” said Zeetha.
“Travis Murphy,” Tarvek continued. “My wife, Colette.”
“Bonjour,” said Colette.
“Theo DuMedd,” said Theo. “My wife, Sleipnir.”
Sleipnir just nodded and smiled.
“Vanamonde von Mekkhan,” Van admitted quietly.
“Gilgamesh Wulfenbach,” Gil chimed in before Henry could ask Van where he was from. “My wife, Agatha.”
Zoing tapped on the wall of his tank.
“And that’s Zoing,” Gil concluded with a smile as Henry turned and Zoing waved both claws at him. “He says hello.”
Henry waved hesitantly to Zoing, then turned to Agatha. “Forgive me, Agatha. Who were your parents? Your... birth parents, I mean.”
“My father was Bill Sanders,” Agatha replied, “but he was adopted, too. His birth name was Heterodyne. And my mother,” she went on, ignoring Henry’s gasp, “was Lucrezia Mongfish.”
Henry frowned. “Mongfish. Not Sinclair?”
“No—at least, not to my knowledge.”
“You’re on, Trav,” Gil said, using Tarvek’s cover nickname. Apparently he was as hesitant to let Henry in on all the Adventure Club’s secrets as Dean was.
Tarvek sighed. “I’m sorry, Agatha. I never wanted to tell you this.”
“It might be important,” Agatha noted. “What did she tell your father?”
Henry blinked. “Father? Who’s—”
“I’m adopted, too,” Tarvek admitted. “My father was Aaron Sturmvoraus.”
“Sturmvoraus. Detroit.”
Tarvek nodded. “He and Lucrezia were lovers. John and Gil’s dad got me out, though.”
“Oh. Well, that’s... that’s good.”
“What’s the story?” Agatha prompted again.
“The story goes,” Tarvek began slowly, “that there was a man named Cuthbert Sinclair who was... a member of some secret society.” He looked at Henry for confirmation.
“Was, yes,” Henry stated. “He used to be our Master of Spells. But he was expelled in ’55, and I never found out why.”
“Before World War II,” Tarvek went on, “Mr. Sinclair used to visit Mechanicsburg frequently, supposedly doing some sort of research. He almost always stayed with Lucifer Mongfish and his wife; they were close friends.”
Agatha frowned. “But... the Mongfishes were witches.”
“What?!” Henry gasped.
Tarvek ignored them both. “In 1942, Mr. Sinclair made another trip to Mechanicsburg just before he was deployed to Europe on... some sort of secret business. There were all sorts of rumors, and Lucrezia never told my father what the truth might have been.”
“And I don’t know how much is declassified,” Henry admitted. “He told me he’d been on loan to the OSS.”
“Anyway, Mr. Mongfish happened to be out of town that week. Mr. Sinclair still stayed at the Mongfish house for several days, long enough to make people talk. He left the same day Mr. Mongfish came home.” Tarvek looked down at the floor. “And a few months after that, it was obvious that Mrs. Mongfish was pregnant. With triplets. They were born early, which is normal with multiples, but it still started a lot of rumors, even though Mr. Mongfish claimed the girls as his own. And then, when Mr. Sinclair came back after the war... he started spending a lot of time with the girls.”
Agatha leaned forward. “Triplets, you said.”
Tarvek nodded. “Lucrezia, Demonica, and Serpentina.”
Theo started. “Serpentina?!”
Tarvek grimaced. “That’s Lucifer Mongfish for you.”
“That mean somethin’ to you, Theo?” Dean asked.
Theo nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. I’d almost forgotten. I... well, I don’t really know all the details. I was born in Bangalore, but for some reason my parents didn’t have me christened until they came back to the States on furlough. I must have been... I dunno, three, four. Old enough to remember, anyway. We were visiting Dad’s parents in Cincinnati, and it just happened to be a day when the bishop was available to do the christening. I don’t remember much about that, but afterward, at the reception... this woman showed up. Now that I think about it... she did look an awful lot like Agatha. I guess it must have been Lucrezia. And she kept calling Mom ‘Serpentina,’ which I thought was so weird, because I’d only ever heard her name as Jill. Mom was really mad about it, and I don’t know if... if Lucrezia was drunk or what, but when the bishop tried to get her to leave, she knocked him into the punch bowl. Dad finally had to call the cops.”
“That sounds like my family,” Agatha said grimly.
Theo shifted to look at her more directly. “Agatha, don’t you see what this means? We’re cousins!”
Agatha blinked and sat back. “I—gee! No wonder we’re friends!”
Sleipnir laughed. “Good job you were second-best man at her wedding, eh, mo chroí?”
Theo snorted, and Sleipnir ruffled his hair.
But Gil’s eyes were narrowed. “So if Lucrezia’s real father was this Master of Spells, and she was spending considerable amounts of time with him....”
Tarvek nodded. “Every summer, she’d go stay with him for at least a month. At least, that’s what she told my father. Demonica would visit him, too, but not as frequently or as long at a time.”
“That explains how she knew about Bill Sanders, how she knew the curse she used to try to possess Agatha....”
“WHAT?!” Henry exploded.
“I’m fine,” Agatha said quickly. “It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Dean chimed in, “but the real threat now is Demonica. Or at least Demonica’s daughter.”
Now it was Tarvek’s turn to look startled. “What? Who’s—”
“Zola,” Sam answered.
Tarvek shook his head. “You’ve mentioned her, but....”
“Zola Malfeazium; she was... well, pretended to be friends with Jess. When we went through the research Dad left in his motel room, I found her birth certificate. It was with a bunch of other stuff about witches.”
“Don’t forget the tracking coin she had in your apartment,” Zeetha added.
Sam blushed. “I didn’t know what it was, okay? But that reminds me, I don’t think I ever said thanks for destroying it.”
“I just wish we’d found it a lot sooner.”
“Still might not have changed anything.”
At Henry’s confused frown, Dean explained, “Demon tried to kill Sam’s girlfriend last night. Copycat for the way another demon killed our mom. We think Zola might have been in on it.” That was really the most he could say; he’d been fighting flashbacks to Mom’s death all night, and another was threatening now.
Theo frowned. “What does Zola look like?”
“Platinum blonde,” Sam replied. “About Agatha’s height, but a broader face, heavier but not really fat. Blue eyes, fair skin.”
“I think somebody saw her in Brady’s ICU room last night. Said she was his girlfriend.”
Both Winchester brothers swore.
Tarvek looked disturbed. “If she’s got a thing for thrall spells, like Lucrezia had....”
“She may be planning to use Brady for her own ends,” Gil agreed. “Or at least keeping him on a short leash for the demon to return to. It said something about having tried to kill us with measles and mono, and it changed Brady’s major from pre-med to Bioengineering and got that internship at Niveus Pharmaceutical. That suggests it’s up to something more than just trying to force Sam back into hunting.”
Henry’s eyes went saucer-wide, but Sleipnir frowned and said, “Okay, we’ve not heard this part o’ the story yet.”
Sam sighed. “Twenty-two years ago yesterday, a demon named Azazel killed our mother over my crib. She was pinned to the ceiling, sliced open, and burned. Dad became a hunter to try to avenge her. Last night, the demon possessing Brady tried to do the same thing to Jess. And it would have worked if it hadn’t been for Dean, Zeetha, Gil, and Agatha.”
Henry shook his head, an incredulous smile growing. “No, no, that... that can’t be! John can’t have... he-he should have been raised in the ways of the Letters, unless....” The smile faded. “Unless I... don’t make it back from this time.”
Sam cleared his throat. “We don’t know. All we know is that Dad never saw you again.”
Henry groaned and buried his face in his hands. “And I may be too late to save him now.”
“We don’t know that, either,” Dean noted.
Henry took a deep breath, dropped his hands, and looked at Sam. “You said something about the Wulfenbachs and Dean and Zeetha?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, they protected me and cornered the demon so I could exorcise it. Zeetha put the fire out, and Gil healed Jess.”
“Now, Agatha... is a Heterodyne. The... great-granddaughter of the goddess Dynamis.”
Agatha nodded. “I came into my powers when I was eighteen. But Gil and Zeetha have powers, too. They’re twins, and they’re half-fae.”
“On our mother’s side,” Gil clarified. “Dad met her during the Vietnam War. He’s from Mechanicsburg; that’s how he knew Agatha’s birth parents and her adoptive parents. And he served in the Marines with John and with Tarvek’s adoptive dad.”
Henry paused to process that. “Sounds like history I’ll need to catch up on later. Who’s your mother?”
“The name she gives to mortals is Zantabraxus,” Zeetha answered.
Henry stared. “The Warrior Queen of Indochina?!”
“Not anymore.”
Henry’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, not anymore?”
Dean rubbed Zeetha’s shoulder supportively as she explained, “The Communists have hunted our people almost to extinction. Mom was living among the Hmong when she rescued Dad and married him, but the Vietcong dropped poison on the mountains where they were living. They escaped to China, but after Gil and I were born, even China wasn’t safe anymore. Mom sent Dad and Gil back to the States, and she took me and traveled among the various South Asian courts outside the Bamboo Curtain. Aside from Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia, almost none of her former lands are still open to her. And even in those lands, she’s not as welcome as she used to be.”
“So... so why are you here?”
“Gil finally got word to us that he was okay in... ’98, was it?” When Gil nodded, Zeetha continued, “But he started wearing a hex bag almost immediately after, so Mom couldn’t even scry for him anymore. But then he married Agatha in ’01, and that... kinda send out some shockwaves.”
Gil and Agatha both blushed.
“Mom had been watching for signs Gil was coming into his powers, even when she couldn’t find him, but she felt pretty sure Dad wouldn’t have any idea what was going on. She thought Gil must be in California ’cause his message came through the Pacific and reached us on Java, so she gave me Dad’s dog tags and sent me to LA. I couldn’t find him there, so I started walking east. Just my luck I ran into Dean first,” she added, grinning at Dean and squeezing his hand.
Dean grinned back and kissed her cheek.
Before anyone could say anything else, Colette piped up, “Ardsley? Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?”*
Sure enough, Ardsley had both hands jammed into his hair, was looking at the floor, and was on the verge of hyperventilating. The fact that everyone turned to look at him didn’t help.
“Ardsley?” Gil prompted.
“He’ll kill me,” Ardsley whimpered, not looking up. “He’ll kill me.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
“What? Why? I told you—”
“That you were half-fae, yes, but not... not the rest of it.”
“Why the hell should it even matter?”
Ardsley finally dropped his hands and raised his head, looking at Gil with tortured eyes. “The Old Men are mad. When the American Men of Letters fell, they began sealing the whole of Britain to all things supernatural. They expelled Oberon and Titania; do you understand?”
Henry gasped. “You mean they killed—”
“No, no, they’re... somewhere in the Orkneys, I think. That’s not the point. If my father finds out that Gil’s mother is Zantabraxus....”
“What,” Gil interrupted, “he’ll kill you just for being friends with me?”
“No, for putting myself in your power. Gil, think—how many times have we exchanged gifts? How many favors have you done me?”
“I don’t want that kind of power over anyone! Ask Van!”
Henry, Theo, and Sleipnir all looked at Van in surprise, but neither Gil nor Ardsley noticed.
“My father won’t accept that,” Ardsley insisted. “Believe me, I’ve tried to explain.”
“How the hell did he even find out about Gil?” Dean asked.
“Because I wouldn’t go home for the hols,” Ardsley said miserably. “After Gil told us about... what happened that Spring Break, I was afraid Father would force the truth out of me, and if he didn’t shoot me on the spot, the Old Men would give the order as soon as they knew. I didn’t think I could trust anyone outside the Adventure Club, not even Colette’s father.”
“Simon Voltaire,” Colette explained when Henry looked at her. “He is director general of the Renseignements Généraux and has worked with M. Wooster in his capacity as an officer of MI6, but M. Wooster is also the liaison of the Men of Letters to the governments of Europe. Papa has had to call on him for assistance with supernatural cases because most hunters in France refuse to work with an agent of the government.”
“I see,” was Henry’s only response.
“So I accepted every invitation I received to stay in the US between quarters,” Ardsley went on. “I took extra classes, used any and every excuse I could find. But last summer... my father finally called. I’d barely said hello when he placed me under a truth spell.” He took a deep breath. “I held back as much as I could, especially about Agatha, but I had to let on that Gil’s half-fae. That satisfied him—not that he was pleased. He lifted the spell but then ordered me to stay here and spy on Gil, report anything out of the way, and if... if it looked like Gil might be at all dangerous....”
“He told you to kill me?!” Gil cried.
Ardsley’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “Even if I didn’t see any danger, he said, the last phase of my initiation would likely require me to kill you anyway.” He turned to Henry then. “You see why you mustn’t contact the Old Men? If they’d order me killed just for being friends with Gil if they learn who his mother is, what will they do to Dean for having married Zeetha?! Let alone—” He caught himself and stopped.
“Let alone what?” Henry pressed.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look as Zeetha squeezed Dean’s hand, and Dean sighed. “Guess you might as well know,” he said quietly. “We’re archangel vessels.”
Henry looked ready to pass out. “Do... do you know which archangels?”
Dean took a deep breath. “From what the demon said last night, I’m Michael’s. But the night Azazel killed Mom, he apparently put some kind of curse on Sam, and we think the goal might have been to turn him into Lucifer’s.”
“Dear Lord.” Henry ran a shaking hand over his mouth. “That explains so much—why the elders tried so hard to get Eddie out of his enlistment, why Abaddon attacked us when she did... if... I-I was planning to start training John... holy cats. I can’t go back.”
“Maybe not,” Agatha said, “but you can help us here and now. Starting with Van.”
Henry turned to Van. “So you are from Mekkhan.”
Van nodded glumly. “I came here only to study, I swear. But before I left, I—” He choked visibly, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. Gil, would you....”
Gil nodded. “Dynamis has apparently written off Saturn’s side of the family. We think Lucrezia killed Teodora to gain her favor; we obviously don’t know whether that worked. But that happened after Dynamis had already given birth to a new heir, fathered by Agatha’s....” He looked questioningly at Van.
“Great-uncle,” Van supplied.
“A little more than kin and less than kind,” Ardsley muttered.
Van sighed. “Literally.”
“Anyway,” Gil continued, “Van’s dad is the Heterodynes’ seneschal. Neptune Heterodyne allowed Van to come here to go to college and gain new ideas, but the price was that he put Van under a blood oath, compelling him to come back when he’s done with school and share everything that he’s learned. Unfortunately, that means he’ll probably have to spill the beans about Agatha and me.”
“Which I don’t want to do,” Van insisted. “And not just because I know Gil would kill me if I did.”
“Gil!” Sleipnir exclaimed.
Gil looked sheepish. “I panicked, all right?”
“With good cause,” Van added with a wry smile, then shook his head. “But it isn’t just that, truly. The more I learn about America, and especially now that I know Agatha... sorry, Gil, I don’t know of a better way to say this.” When Gil gave him a Go ahead gesture, he continued, “I’d rather stay here to serve Agatha and her God than return to serve a tyrant. But as long as I’m bound by this oath, I... I can’t even say the name of Ch—” He choked again and coughed.
“We’ve been trying to find a way to free him,” Agatha told Henry. “But so far, every resource we’ve tried has come up empty.”
Henry took a deep breath. “Yes, I... I think I know a spell that might help. It might not break the bonds entirely,” he told Van, “but it should at least let you speak more freely.”
Van nodded. “Please.”
Henry said something in whatever language he’d used to block Abaddon’s attempt to follow him through the closet portal, and dark bands suddenly became visible across Van’s head, throat, and chest, along with dark chains shackled to his wrists and ankles. Theo and Sleipnir gasped.
Van’s eyes went unfocused, and with a great effort, he ground out, “Omnis... immundus... spiritus... abjuro.”
The band around his throat snapped.
“Omnis immundus spiritus,” he gasped, “omnis potestas Satanas, abjuro!”
The band around his head snapped, and Zeetha gripped Dean’s hand hard.
Van panted harshly a couple of times. “Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis potestas Satanas, in nomini Jesu Christi, ABJURO!”**
The band around his chest snapped, and he fell forward out of his chair to his knees.
“Domini est salus,” he continued quickly. “Domini est salus. Christi est salus. Salus tua, Domine, sit semper nobiscum.”*** The chains of darkness shattered and vanished, and he fell face down on the carpet, sobbing and babbling in his own language.
“VAN!” Agatha cried and hurried over to him, and Gil started praying under his breath.
After a moment, Van sat up again, still breathing hard and tears still streaming down his face, but eyes shining with joy and smiling way more broadly than Dean had ever seen him smile before. “That’s it,” he wheezed. “That’s it. I’m FREE!”
Laughing, Agatha hugged him, and Theo pounded his back.
“At least you can graduate now,” Gil teased.
Van laughed, but then his smile faded. “Yes, but I’m still in terrible danger. Even with a hex bag, I can’t stay here. Master Neptune knows where I am.”
“Eh bien,” said Colette, “I’m sure my father—”
“No. Thank you, but I... I can’t risk anyone finding me in Paris.”
Sleipnir frowned. “Can’t you go back to Romania at all?”
“Dynamis is no mere local goddess,” Henry stated. “The Gnostics regarded her as one of the greatest of the archons, sister of Sophia. I don’t know how or why she would have chosen to settle in Mekkhan, but she’s extremely powerful for one of the pagans.”
“It’s... rather more complicated than that,” Van said. “Dynamis is only one of the names she has taken. But even the fact that her cult is still alive and that she’s still receiving blood sacrifices makes her much stronger than any of the Greek gods. Even without that, though... no, I... I can’t go back to Romania. Not as a Christian.”
“I thought Romania was a Christian country,” Sleipnir said.
Van sighed. “The Communists did a great deal of damage to the idea of faith in my country. The Orthodox are tolerated because of tradition and because they don’t talk about such things as holiness. But I have seen the Repenters stoned in Cluj. They’re no better than gypsies.”
Sam squirmed. “You really shouldn’t call them....”
“Even the Romani,” Gil interrupted firmly, “are made in the image of God.”
Van grimaced but didn’t reply.
After a long awkward pause, Theo sighed. “Okay, let’s figure out our collective to-do list. Clearly, Van’s not the only one who’s in danger here. Everyone who doesn’t already have a hex bag needs to get one, pronto.”
“Right,” Tarvek agreed. “We can take care of that by this afternoon. Until we do, all the Winchesters ought to stay in this apartment; we know Agatha’s hex bag, at least, is strong enough to hide all of you.”
Theo nodded. “Henry needs to figure out what he has and what to do with it.”
Henry pulled a strangely carved brass box, about the size of a pack of cards, out of his pocket. “Do you happen to know what this is, Ardsley?”
Ardsley nodded. “It’s a puzzle box. It holds the key to one of the repositories of knowledge the Men of Letters had in this country, and the box itself would be placed in a slot on the mainframe computer to alert the system that the place was occupied. But we shouldn’t use it for that purpose; so far as I know, the computer network here still connects to the one in England. The key itself should be safe enough, though.”
“Do you know where the repository is?”
“Afraid not, old man. Sorry.”
“Okay,” said Gil, “so we still need to find out that much, and then when we’ve found the place, we need to disconnect the computers from the network. I’m thinking that’s a job for you and Colette, since she’s our IT guru.”
“Oui, certainment,” said Colette.
Theo turned to Dean next. “Do you guys have any lead on your dad?”
Dean shook his head. “No, all we’ve got are coordinates in his journal for what looks like a hunt in Colorado.”
“We can take that,” said Tarvek. “We’ve both got vacation time coming; we can give our two weeks’ notice and leave right away. If we happen to find John, so much the better. But it sounds like he’s trying to keep you guys off his trail, so there’s no guarantee he’ll be there when we arrive. Plus, Sam, at least, needs to disappear sooner than later, and there’s not much better for that than going on the one errand Hell can’t know about.”
“You mean we should take Henry back to Illinois,” said Sam.
“Exactly.”
“We should call Bobby or Ash first,” Zeetha noted. “They may be able to get us closer to finding any survivors and whether they’ve moved somewhere else. It’s, what, three days from here to Normal?”
“At best,” Dean confirmed. “Maybe less if we switch off drivers and go straight through, but there’s no telling what the roads are like right now. What about Klaus, though?”
Gil shook his head. “Last time I talked to Dad, he was somewhere in Florida.”
“And Papa Jim’s in Quebec for a church conference,” Tarvek reported. “And Violetta’s got classes, so she can’t go down for you.”
“Speaking of which,” said Sam, “I’d better email my professors, see if I can at least take an Incomplete.”
Dean nodded his approval. Sam might have given up on law school, but that didn’t mean he had to give up on finishing his degree, not this close to the end of the term.
Gil drummed his fingers on the coffee table. “All right, how’s this? Murphys take this hunt in Colorado, while Winchesters find the repository. Agatha, Ardsley, and I can wind up our affairs here, and Van can start applying for religious asylum. Theo’s got his rotation at the hospital; he’s the only one of us who can’t just pick up and leave.”
“We can try to keep tabs on Zola, though,” Sleipnir suggested. “And we can keep an eye on Jess while we’re at it.”
Sam nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
Gil looked at Dean. “As soon as you guys find out where the repository is, call us. We’ll fly out with Van and Ardsley and meet you in Beetleburg. Dad’s supposed to be coming for Thanksgiving; we can brief him then.”
“And Bobby, if we don’t call him sooner,” Zeetha suggested.
“I’ll see if Papa Jim will bring Violetta down, too,” Tarvek offered, which Gil accepted with a nod.
“What makes you think your dad’s gonna want in on this?” Dean asked. “Thought he was hung up on tryin’ to find Barry Sanders.”
“Yes,” Agatha replied, “but when Uncle Barry disappeared, he was investigating what my mother and her coven had been planning to do with me. Mom said he told her and Dad he thought it was end-of-the-world big. But if that trail led him to Cuthbert Sinclair....”
Henry hissed.
Dean looked at him sharply. “What, you got a lead?”
“I don’t—well, I might. Cuthbert was my mentor; we kept in touch after his expulsion. I’m starting to think that might have been a bad idea.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“In any case... of course, I don’t even know if he’s still alive, but I know where he was living last, and he may be there still. His mansion is hidden by heavy spellwork and can’t be seen from the outside at all, and the only way to enter is either with one specific spell uttered from outside, powered by very arcane ingredients, or by Cuthbert’s own permission. There’s no door leading out from inside, either; Cuthbert has to let people out himself. Chances are, if Agatha’s uncle somehow found his way in, he never found his way out.”
“I’d say that goes on the to-do list for after Thanksgiving,” said Theo.
“Yeah,” Gil agreed. “When are you done, Theo?”
“December 16. We can plan to meet you in Beetleburg for Christmas unless we hear otherwise or unless something comes up on our end.”
“And if we get other hunts?” Sam asked.
“Refer them on,” Zeetha recommended. “Unless it’s something we have to take care of personally.”
Tarvek nodded. “Either we or Theo and Sleipnir should be able to handle it.”
“And sooner or later,” Colette chimed in, “we’ll have to deal with the Heterodynes and the British Men of Letters as well.”
“Maybe so,” said Sleipnir. “But for now, I think stopping whatever Hell’s planning for Sam should take precedence.”
“I second that,” said Sam.
“All in favor?” Gil asked.
“Aye!” answered the whole Adventure Club, including Henry, and Dean almost thought he heard an affirmative peep out of Zoing, too.
* What’s wrong?
** Every impure spirit, every power of Satan, in the name of Jesus Christ, I abjure you.
*** Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of Christ. May Your salvation, Lord, be ever with us. (These are the last words of the Breastplate of St. Patrick.)