Conlan began his epic journey, and I pulled files on mass disappearances, landed on the floor close enough to catch him if he decided to swan-dive, and tried to review what little was known about people vanishing.

Of all the recorded mass disappearances, the Roanoke colony was the most famous, but there were others. Easter Island, whose inhabitants had melted into thin air, leaving behind only statues. Ancient Puebloans, who were once called Anasazi, meaning “ancient enemies.” The village of Hoer Verde in Brazil. That one was especially creepy. The theories said that the Easter Islanders might have starved to death and Roanoke’s colonists might have died of plague, but everyone was pretty sure something really bad had happened at Hoer Verde. Six hundred Brazilians vanished without a trace in 1923, leaving behind a gun that had been fired and a note that read, There is no salvation.

All those were pre-Shift. Post-Shift, disappearances increased in frequency but were usually eventually solved. Typically something had eaten the people or some magic disease had nuked everyone and burned itself out. One case listed mysterious blue lights floating in the air, which caused the population of a small town to strip naked and run off into the woods after them. They were eventually found by local sheriffs, confused and embarrassed. The worst injuries suffered amounted to scratches and severe cases of poison ivy exposure.

There was nothing in any of the files about boiled people or jellied mass graves.

The phone rang. I grabbed it, watching Conlan trying to scoot backward on the truck’s roof.

“Hello, Kate,” Maxine said.

That ass. Couldn’t call himself. Made his secretary do it. That was a new low, even for Nick. “Hi, Maxine. How is my nemesis?”

“We need your help.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We need your help,” she repeated.

Conlan got to his feet and made a tiny hop on top of the truck, achieving a lift of about an inch. I walked closer to the truck.

“What can I do for you?”

“We’ve received a group from Wolf Trap.”

Wolf Trap, Virginia, housed the Order’s national headquarters.

“I believe they are here to remove Nikolas Feldman from his position as knight-protector.”

What? Nick was the first decent knight-protector that office had had in the last ten years. His predecessor managed to get the entire chapter killed.

“Why?”

“Nikolas has been rather vocal in his criticism of the Order. It has caused problems.” There was an awful, vulnerable edge to Maxine’s voice. In my time with the Order, she’d been unflappable. No matter what happened, Maxine handled it with her trademark efficiency.

“Within the chapter?”

“No, the knights of the chapter are devoted to him. In the past, we have become a refuge for . . .”

“Problem cases,” I finished for her. Atlanta always was the dumping ground for troublesome knights.

“Yes. Nikolas has a unique talent when it comes to helping people find their niche. He makes sure that they become useful. Most of them owe their lives to him in more than one way.”

The Order encouraged loyalty to the local knight-protectors, and the Atlanta chapter was no exception. In the few times I’d seen Nick interact with his knights, the relationships seemed to be based on mutual respect. They did what he told them to do, and they didn’t question him in my presence.

“The Order would have to have a reason for removing him,” I thought out loud. “One can’t just pull a knight-protector out of his chapter. Is performance down?”

“No. Our ratio of completed petitions is at an all-time high.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He has been direct in expressing his frustration with their noninvolvement in the claiming of Atlanta and the general situation with your father.”

Oh great. I could imagine the reports filed with Wolf Trap. Are you aware that an abomination named Kate Lennart has claimed the city of Atlanta? Why are you not doing anything about the claiming of Atlanta? Are you planning on doing something about this matter in the near future? Could we have a time frame in which this issue might be resolved? When something got under his skin, Nick was un-shut-up-able, and the Order at large desperately wanted to ignore my existence. They didn’t have the power to do anything about me. I was pretty sure they hoped I would just somehow go away, and here was Nick, shining a big searchlight on the problem they were pretending to not see.

“They don’t believe he possesses the diplomatic flexibility necessary for the post,” Maxine said.

“How do you know that?”

“I scanned their minds.”

Whoa. For Maxine, that was a massive breach of ethics.

“I had no choice,” Maxine said quietly. “I’ve given twenty-five years to the Order. I’ve felt an entire chapter die one by one. I can’t do this again.”

She sounded at the end of her rope. “Let me guess, they are going to remove him because he isn’t diplomatic enough to work with me?”

“Yes.” Anxiety vibrated in Maxine’s voice. “He was invited to a lunch. He went armed. Before he left, he had a particular mind-set. You must understand, this chapter is all he has.”

Oh, I understood perfectly. Nick would go down swinging. They didn’t summon him to Wolf Trap, because he wouldn’t go, and they didn’t want to do this within the chapter’s walls, in front of the other knights, where he was at his strongest.

“You must understand, when I said that the knights are devoted to him, I meant that they are deeply committed to his goals.”

If Nick went down, the chapter would revolt. They’d picked a hell of a time for this.

Conlan balanced on the edge of the truck.

If I didn’t handle this right now, the chapter would collapse on itself. Nick would likely die, and that was the last thing I wanted.

“Where is this lunch?”

“At the Amber Badger.”

It would take me twenty minutes. It would take him at least thirty to get there from the chapter. These knights from Wolf Trap really wanted to put some distance between him and his people.

“When did he leave?”

“About five minutes ago.”

“I’m on it. Keep everyone calm, please.”

I hung up and lunged forward just as Conlan jumped off the truck. He landed in my arms and giggled. My son, the daredevil. It’s good that I have a short reaction time.

I hugged him and smooched his forehead. “Let’s go get dressed. We’ve got to save Uncle Nick Stupidhead from himself.”

* * *

• • •

    I WALKED INTO the Amber Badger carrying Conlan. He hadn’t wanted to put on clothes. I’d successfully wrestled him into a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, but it took me ten minutes longer than planned to get to the restaurant. Here’s hoping I wasn’t too late.

The hostess smiled at me. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a party of the Order’s knights. Armed, scary, probably scowling.”

“This way.”

The inside of the Amber Badger resembled a medieval tavern, with stone walls, scrubbed wooden floors, pendants on the walls, and sturdy wooden tables. It was half-empty, and I had no trouble spotting Nick and three knights at a table near the far wall. Nick’s face had that detached cold look he got just before his sword came out of its sheath. The other three, two men, one dark-skinned in his forties, one white and slightly younger, and a Hispanic woman about my age, held themselves with the ease of seasoned fighters. Not relaxed but not tense either. A half-full platter of pretzels with cheese and beer sauce rested on the table. Oh good, they were still on appetizers. They wouldn’t fire him until the main course.

I marched straight to the table.

Nick raised his head and saw me. His eyes widened.

I came to a stop by the table. “Knight-protector.”

“Yes?”

The three other knights stared at me.

“Can I steal a moment of your time?”

Nick appeared to waver.

Say yes. Say yes, you moron. I am trying to demonstrate rapport here.

“Sure,” he said.