the dam, and see if she feels like talking.”
“So Agatha’s life depends on someone wanting to talk to you? Brilliant.”
“Fortunately for you, most people actually like talking to me. You’re a notable exception.”
We follow a pathway out onto the dam.
Baz and I make sure the guards don’t notice us, with a combination of “Through a glass” and “Nothing to see here.”
Shepard watches our every move. I’m sure he’s going to write down all these spells in one of the notebooks he has stacked on his dashboard, just as soon as he has a moment. Well … we didn’t promise not to destroy any evidence.
Simon flies along behind us. I think he’s enjoying having his wings out in the open. When we get home, we need to find a way for Simon to exercise his wings. (If we’re not in magickal prison.) (At least if we’re in magickal prison, Simon won’t have to hide his wings.)
The dam is enormous—and rather beautiful, I think—a curved wall of concrete, holding back the river. When we get out to the middle of the wall, Shepard leans as far as he can over the water. If I actually cared about him, I’d pull him back. It would be a long fall from here—the river must be at a low point. You can see the waterline on the rock around the reservoir, like a ring around a bath.
“Blue…” Shepard calls out in a low voice. He tips his bottle of water over the rail and spills some. Nothing immediately answers him.
He keeps hanging out over the wall, emptying the bottle. “Blue…”
There’s a rushing noise below us—a rushing, slurring voice.
“Shhhhep,” the voice says.
A pillar of water shoots up in front of us. I jump back. Simon puts his hand on my shoulder to steady me. He’s landed.
The water falls.
A few more jets spurt up, then fall.
Then a larger column of water surges up and holds. It looks like a woman for a moment. Like a melting ice sculpture.
“Tassshhtes like plashtic,” the voice rumbles. It’s a feminine rumble.
“I know,” Shepard says, “sorry.”
A stream-like hand reaches out to touch his cheek. “Ogallala Aquiferrr,” she babbles, caressing him. “Rocky Mountain shhhhhnow.”
“Yeah,” Shepard says, “I’m on a road trip.”
“More like a rescue mission,” I say.
The water turns to me, then backs away. Recedes. “Shhtrangerrssh,” it says. She says. She rushes.
“Friends,” Shepard says.
“You’rrre too trussshhhting, Shhep.”
“Maybe,” he says. “But I’m usually a good judge of character.”
“Magic,” she says. “Dangerrr. Let me take them, you shhtay clean.”
The water level is getting higher in the reservoir. The column thickens, more decisively taking a woman’s shape. I resist the urge to cast a spell. Simon squeezes my shoulder.
“They mean us no harm!” Shepard insists. “They’re looking for their friend. We think she was kidnapped by vampires.”
The water—some sort of river spirit? Is she the river itself?—hisses. “Bad company,” she splatters. My shoes and socks are wet. Baz steps away from the wall.
“The worst,” Shepard says. “We think she’s with the Next Blood.”
The entire lake is disturbed. We can hear it pounding against the concrete.
“We thought maybe you could tell us where they are,” Shepard says. “You’re everywhere.”
“Not anymorrre,” she sobs. “I am dammed and diminishhhed and loshht to the mishht.”
“You’re still grand,” he says, “from where I’m standing.”
The water laps at his face. It makes a noise like, Psssssht.
Shepard leans out farther—too far, his feet are off the ground. His face and hair are dripping.
“The New Blood taste dishhtilled,” she grumbles. “Chemicalshh, vitamin shupplemntshhh.”
I’m getting impatient. “Where are they?”
I get soaked in answer.
Shepard flashes me a “shut up” face. Oh, now he wants me to shut up. “We’d be so grateful for your help,” he says entreatingly.
“Weshhht,” she says.
“Just west?”
“On the shhhoresh. Shaltwaterr. Irrigashhion. Golf courshesshhh.”
“That could be anywhere in California,” Shepard says to himself.
“I tashte them closherrr shometimeshh.”
“Yeah?”
“Vegashh.”
“They’re mixing with the others? That can’t be.”
The water seems to shhrug. I mean shrug. “They all find theirrr way to the Katherrrine eventually.”
“The Katherine,” Shepard says. “Like, the hotel?”
“No.” She shakes her head back and forth, splashing in every direction. “Dangerrr. You shhhould let them go alone.”
“Blue. I’ve promised them my help.”
“You’rrrre too helpful.”
“That reminds me.” He smiles and slides to the ground, taking off his rucksack. “Brought you some good news.” He pulls a novel out of his bag. “I liked this one. Kind of sad. Good jokes though.”
“Is it ficchhhion?”
“Of course,” he says, dropping it in the water. He reaches back into the rucksack. “This one takes itself too seriously, but I know you’re