Duncan debated tossing his phone, since it was undoubtedly giving up his location to anyone who cared to look.  The whole point of a burner phone was to toss it, but he didn’t feel particularly inclined to hide any more.

Similarly, his blatantly obvious CIA tail could be ditched by blinking away to a new location.  It didn’t feel like it was worth the effort, either.  He was at the border, and the Americans knew it.  He found that he was curious what their next move would be.

After some walking around downtown, he found a delightful museum full of collectibles, mostly various kinds of toys.  His grey-suited companion followed along with a bored expression, but Duncan was anything but bored.  As he was leaving, an ill-shaven local bumped into him quite deliberately.

Duncan took a step back and apologized, then checked his wallet.  Still there.

“Boss wants to talk to you.”

Duncan studied the man more closely.  The whiff of death made him sigh.  “I don’t suppose it would suffice to say I have no interests here, and will be moving along shortly?”

“No.  Boss says he wants to talk, you talk.”

“A lot of people want to talk to me it seems.”  Duncan shrugged.  “Where and when?”

The scruffy man pointed down the road, and Duncan headed in the indicated direction.  A few turns later they arrived at a hole in the wall restaurant populated only by locals.  The smells wafting from the kitchen were wonderful.  His suited tail apparently knew something of the place, as he did not follow them inside.

Duncan was guided to a private room in the back, where a hard-eyed man was finishing a meal.

“Thank you for seeing me.  I am aware you did not have to.”

The scruffy lackey looked surprised at the admission, but was shooed away before he could protest.

“You’re working with a ghoul, but aren’t one,” said Duncan.  “Which does make this a little easier.  What do you want?”

“Sit, sit.  No need to pace like a caged animal.”

Duncan sat opposite the man, and accepted the offer of a drink.  Water, as far as he could tell.

“Big boss doesn’t want you hanging around.”

“I don’t imagine so, no.  I suppose there’s enough death to feed on, here?  No need to go hunting.”

“Not... as such, no.  Plenty of deserving dead.”

“And what do you do to their souls?”

The man looked distraught at the question.  “What sort of monsters do you take us for?”

“I’ve met a few ghouls before.  Some are more monstrous than others.  It sounds like you’re working for the less monstrous kind.”

The man chuckled.  “I suppose.  Lots of people wouldn’t see it that way.  Especially the gringos you were talking to.”

“It may surprise you, but I have very little interest in helping the CIA.  At least, where you’re concerned.”

“No luck recruiting you, hm?”

“No.  I don’t want to get involved.”

The man studied Duncan for a time, then started to laugh.  “Typical tourist.”

Duncan bowed slightly.  “That was my plan.  Somewhat atypical of late, but that’s not your problem.”

“What is my problem is that the Boss doesn’t like having other Powers on our turf.  Makes people jittery.  Bad for business.”

“Making a problem for me would be worse,” said Duncan mildly.  “I shan’t be here past Friday.”

“I don’t like threats,” growled the local boss.

Duncan smiled openly.  “Not a threat.  I have no business here, and I’m happy to leave it that way.  If I can do some little thing to reassure your boss on that point, I am willing.”

The avaricious look on the other man’s face revealed far more than his casually spoken “I’m listening.”

Duncan tapped his lips with his thumb as he thought.  “Power, yes?  It all comes down to that.”

“Boss has a great deal of power.  Both kinds.”

“Some kinds of magic are more potent than others.  Different powers, different limitations.”  Duncan thought back to the old woman he’d met near the airport.  He formed a fingertip-sized crystal, depleting a sizeable portion of his personal reserve in doing so.  Laced through it was everything he’d learned about healing a ghoul without burning it.

Duncan set the crystal on the table.  “Best to box it up, preferably in silver.  It is a gift that I hope he will take in the spirit intended.  If he can let go of death, and choose life, his power will grow.”

The man eyed it warily.  “This is not a small thing.”

“Nor is it entirely safe.  If he is careless, it could injure or kill him.  It is vital that he does this slowly.”

“I’ll be back.  Wait here.”

Duncan noticed that two burly men were now standing by the door, and shrugged.  “Sure.  I don’t suppose I could get a small sampler plate of the house special while I wait?  It smells wonderful.”

The man flashed him a toothy grin.  “Tastes better than it smells.  I’ll see to it.”

Duncan’s body wasn’t built for eating, but he did make a point of sampling each of the dishes that got brought to him.  It was good enough that he spent a little energy modifying his robot chassis to be capable of handling the food properly.

An hour passed.  Then two more.  Duncan considered his options, figured the chair was comfortable.  He chatted with Gwen and briefly pestered Mackie, but neither had any new information.

Duncan noticed his escort suddenly standing a little straighter, and turned to the door in time to see the local boss return.  Behind him there was a pale woman in a dress so white it nearly glowed.  The residual power from his gift still flickered inside her, and there was no sign of the ghoul she had once been.  Even her soul seemed remarkably clean.

Duncan rose to his feet, then bowed slightly to her.  “I’m glad you accepted the gift.  You are not what I expected.”

She smiled and gestured to the guards.  They saluted her sharply and left the room.  Once they were gone, she went to one knee in front of Duncan, and took his hands in hers.  “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I swear on my grandmother’s grave I shall prove worthy of this gift.”

Duncan tried to think of something suitable to say, but all that he came up with was, “You are welcome.”

She rose to her feet again.  “No demand of fealty?”

“Goodness, no.  That was not my intent at all.  You’ve chosen the path of light, and that is more than enough for me.”

She looked abashed.  “My cartel is not a kind one.  Nor can I turn it into one without losing control over it.”

“You have new ways to reward the faithful.”

“Faithful?” she chuckled.  “They follow out of fear, out of greed, out of ambition.  Lucas here has felt all three, have you not?”

“Si, Señora Blanca.”

She smiled at him brightly.  “A new name, is it?  I like it.  Why will you follow Señora Blanca?”

“You have always been fair, and generous to those who follow you.”

“Noche was responsible for many deaths.  Just thinking about that makes me feel ill.”  The fingers of one hand pressed to her mouth as if to suppress her gorge.

“I am sorry,” offered Duncan.  “I think that was inevitable.  That it bothers you now bodes well for the future.  You are not the same person any more.”

Blanca looked away from Duncan’s eyes.  “I cannot turn away from Señora Noche.  I have much to atone for.”

“And much to atone with.  You have the feel of someone who knows who to talk to about this.”

“Abuela, yes.  Not my abuela, of course, but... she is the heart.  I know one thing she will ask, and it is no small thing.  There is one other like me, who has kept the old ways despite everything.  She would ask...  so I will ask if I might share this gift.”

She set an inlaid box on the table.  Opening it revealed a silver lining, and a small cushion of velvet inside.  The residue of the crystal that had lain within it briefly still shone to Duncan’s senses.  Moments later, much of his reserve was depleted, and a second ghoul-healing crystal was sitting in the box.  Duncan picked it up and closed it, then set it in Señora Blanca’s hands.  “With my blessing.”

Her smile was even more brilliant than before.  “Thank you, my lady.”

Duncan chuckled at Lucas’ confusion.  “You see more than most.  May brightness accompany you on the path you walk.”

She bowed to Duncan, lower than before.  “And you.  You have darkness ahead.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

Duncan hesitated, then smiled at a thought.  “There is one thing.  The border with the US has a peculiar spell on it, one that marks magical constructs that cross it.  Do you know how to defeat it?”

She laughed at the request, a tinkling sound that made Lucas and Duncan smile.  “I have tried everything I can think of for years.  Tunneling under, flying over.  Every time I beat it they figured it out and made it stronger.  Anything or anyone with power gets marked.  Worse than the mark, it also weakens slowly but surely.  I would not cross without invitation, if I were you.”

“Unfortunate,” sighed Duncan.  “My family is being held across the border.”

“The only way I know is the obvious one.  If you cross through lawfully, the spell will not mark you.”

“There is a watcher in the Customs House.  What of that?”

“The watcher sees, but cannot harm you.  It can be distracted, but not easily or for long.  For one such as you, I do not think any distraction can possibly work.  You shine too bright.  Perhaps you will tell me when you intend to go?  I could do much with such a distraction as you will provide.”

Duncan chuckled at the idea.  “I can well imagine.  I’d rather not get off on the wrong foot with Customs, and I’m a terrible liar.  Best if I don’t know.  That said, likely tomorrow sometime after Moonrise.”

Blanca laughed her tinkling laugh once more.  “I’ll have my couriers watch.  I suspect you’ll be hard to miss.”

“I don’t intend to hide.  Not any more.”

“Good.  The Americans have gotten complacent.  They could use a little shaking up.”

Duncan chuckled softly.  “They won’t like the level of shaking up I’m ready to inflict if they keep me from my family.”

“Go easy on them.  They’re my biggest market.”

That got a harder look.  “No promises.  I will not be stopped short of my goal, and whatever it takes them to learn that... so be it.”

“Fair enough.  Thank you again for your gift, and may God light your path in the dark places you must walk.”

Duncan bowed, and headed out the door.  The guards looked him over, but did not move to stop him.  Outside, his grey-suited tail seemed to have been replaced by a different person, in much the same suit.

Duncan walked over to him. “Not even trying to hide?”

The agent shrugged.  “Wasn’t told to.  We know you’re here. You know we know you’re here.”

“Not much of a job, is it?”

“Pays well, and Frank said you’d been going interesting places.”

“Got any museums to recommend?  I’m just marking time right now.”

“Until?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

The agent shook his head.  “Not to me, sorry.  Pretty sure it’s all way above my pay grade.”

“Thursday night the full Moon rises.”

“Cryptic.  Like I said, above my pay grade.  I’m just here to keep an eye on you.”

“Question about the museum still stands.”

After a brief chat, they took a cab to the local science museum, where Duncan whiled away several pleasant hours.  He had managed to forget about the looming crises and was fully engaged in watching a static electricity demo when his phone rang.

“Hey Mackie.  Good news?”

“Are you private?”

“I’m on a cell phone that I don’t doubt at least three agencies have traces on, and there’s a CIA guy five feet away.”

“That will make this difficult.”

Duncan pinged Gwen.  Through the crystal link, he asked her to contact Mackie and act as a relay.  Instead, she offered to make a communication crystal for him.  Once that was done and delivered, they tried again.

Duncan could clearly hear Mackie tapping on the crystal.  “Yes, I’m here.”

“Wow.  You should sell these, your voice is really clear.”

“Kind of tough to do with magic censorship, and they’re set up as bonded pairs.  Well, sort of.  This one’s a triplet, so Gwen can hear us too.”

“I don’t suppose you could get me a pair to use with Agent Carson?  We’ve had to use a lot of circumlocutions and I don’t think we’re both on the same page.”

“Done,” said Gwen.  “Can you arrange to get the other crystal to Carson quickly?”

“Easily,” agreed Mackie.  “I can have it in his hands later today.”

“Good.  So what did you need to talk to me about that couldn’t be said publicly?”

“The CIA guy can’t hear?”

“I’m resonating the crystal directly, nobody should be able to pick it up,” Duncan relayed.

“You’ve stirred up one hell of a hornet’s nest.  The FBI has a new bulletin out on you.  It doesn’t come out and say ‘dead or alive’ but it implies it pretty clearly.  ‘Should be considered armed and extremely dangerous’.”

“Well, they’re not wrong.  Just the FBI?  There’s a CIA guy tailing me.  He seems nice.  The local shop already detained me and found it difficult to hold me.”

“Who do you think triggered the bulletin?  Your stunt with the CIA made waves.”

Duncan sighed out loud, drawing a curious look from his tail.  “You probably don’t want to know.”

The grey-suited man shrugged, and turned his overt attention back to the van de Graaf generator show.  Duncan was pretty sure that if he started to move the agent would notice.  He returned his focus back to the crystal.

“What’s our next move?”

“I’d like to get this crystal to Agent Carson and make sure he understands the urgency of the situation.”

“How hard is it to convey ‘they kidnapped my family’?”

“The issue is conveying just how dangerous you are, without terrifying them.”

“Okay, I suppose that is something of a fine line to walk.  I’m sure the CIA report didn’t help.”

“It got him much more interested in talking to me about you,” commented Mackie.  “So I supposed it helped in that sense.”

“Anything else I should worry about?”

“Plenty.  The PM sent that strongly-worded letter.  Nobody in Washington was even willing to admit that the flight had been diverted, they’re all in full coverup mode.”

“To be fair, that’s pretty much standard operating procedure,” snarked Duncan.

“Yeah, but the overtone of confusion, like they weren’t even sure what they were supposed to be denying... that’s not normal.  Something is deeply wrong down there.”

“Not my problem.”

“Are you sure about that?  I’ll see if I can get more out of James once we can talk openly about magic.”

Duncan agreed, and dropped the connection.  He tried to focus on the display once more, but his heart was no longer in it.

He pinged Gwen again, and discussed getting her to transfer some power his way.  He’d used up far too much of his stash helping Señora Blanca, and while he’d been able to operate the vault at his home remotely, the power wouldn’t transfer through thousands of miles of the earth’s crust.  They discussed lofting some probes high into the atmosphere to handle the transfer, but eventually settled on Duncan loading one of his little crystal jets with power, and having it follow the border back around to him.

With that dealt with, Duncan asked if his tail was getting hungry.  The man admitted that he was, and knew of a local place with very good food.  “This one isn't owned by a cartel.  I hope that’s not a problem.”

Duncan laughed, and gestured for him to lead the way.

Afterward, Duncan returned to his hotel, waved to the new agent waiting by the door, and went into his room.  His probe arrived shortly afterward, and he was glad for the restock.

Eventually, he managed to sleep.

In the morning, Duncan woke up when one of his crystals started to ping for his attention.  He took a moment to orient himself, then answered.

“I’m not sure what you expect this to accomplish,” said Elias Disney without preamble.

“Good morning to you, too.  My objective is the safety of my family.”

“I assure you, they are perfectly safe where they are.  They have a comprehensive security detail when they’re out in the park, and the residence is by far the most secure building on the site.”

“I would be more reassured if I could talk to them.”

“I will see what I can arrange,” replied Elias.

“You will see...  You call yourself the master of the tower, and you can’t make such a simple thing happen?”

“My sphere is... circumscribed.  That is why we need to meet in person.”

“Sure, I’ll just walk in the front door to your seat of power.  Doesn’t sound healthy to me.”

“Better than the alternative.  My father spent fifty years warding this place.  It’s the front door or nothing.”

“We’ll see about that,” growled Duncan.

“I’m not trying to start a fight,” sighed Elias.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have kidnapped my family!” Duncan shot back.

“The matter is dire.  Desperate measures were necessary.”

“Then talk already!”

“Not like this.  It isn’t secure.”

Duncan growled, and nearly crushed the crystal in his hand.  “This is not going to end well.”

Elias sighed regretfully.  “I’m afraid it never was.”

“When the full Moon rises, nothing will stop me from reaching my family,” vowed Duncan.

“We shall see.”

Duncan tossed the crystal across the room.  It didn’t break, though he was sorely tempted to go start breaking things.  After he’d calmed down a little, he went to the front desk at the hotel, and asked if there were any shooting ranges in the city.  The clerk looked alarmed then shook her head.  “North of border.”

He sighed, and instead asked for directions to the beach.  A morning spent walking on the sand and watching the waves helped to calm and ground him.

A little after noon, he called Mackie to see how things had gone.  “Any word from your FBI friend?”

“He wants to meet you.  He’s flying down to San Diego as we speak, and should be at the border around seven.”

“I don’t suppose he’s willing to meet me in Mexico.”

“He said he would prefer to remain within his jurisdiction.  Something about not wanting to cross swords with the CIA.”

Duncan glanced around, waved to the grey-suited man standing awkwardly on the beach, and shrugged.  “I’m not surprised.  The CIA guys have been keeping their distance.  Honestly, I think they’ll be glad to be rid of me.  Walking up to the front door it is, then.  Tell him to text me when he gets to the customs facility, and I’ll meet him there.”

He spent another half hour at the beach, then returned to town for a bite to eat, another museum trip, then a little window shopping.  The Moon rose while he was doing so, which brought a small smile to his face.  When his ramblings led to a city-block sized park, he decided to stay there a while, and wait for the Moon to rise to where he could see it in the sky.

The park wasn’t much by his standards - at least as much plaza as park, but it was still green space in an otherwise dry and dusty city.  It had a small fountain, and a children’s play area.  He watched the little ones for a time, then turned away.  He hoped his own children were having fun.  This was not the vacation they had signed up for, though he supposed that spending their days at Disneyland would more than make up for it.

He frowned at the sight of a woman in a wheelchair.  She seemed to be watching over the children much as he had been, and had a familiar air of resignation to her.  He’d seen many like her in the hospital, and with the power he had to hand, it was not hard to kill off the cancer eating through her bones.  He said nothing, but just as he was finishing up her gaze turned his way.

She wheeled over to Duncan, and asked a question in Spanish.  Duncan shook his head.  “Sorry, I only know English, and a smattering of French.”

She nodded, and in heavily accented english thanked him.

Duncan studied her a little more curiously.  “How can you tell?”

“The pain, it stopped.”

Duncan inclined his head.  “You are welcome.”

Over the course of the afternoon, a small trickle of the ill came to his attention.  There were several small hospitals and clinics nearby, and the patients often visited the park.  He suspected that word was getting about, but none of them made a fuss.

By the time he got his text from Agent Carson, he’d helped several dozen people, and received another probe with an even larger shipment of stored magic.

Duncan nodded to the old woman in the wheelchair, who’d watched over him all afternoon.  “Time to go.”

“Vaya con Dios.”

Duncan smiled at the blessing, and started the long walk to the border.  His tail seemed unruffled by the walk, but as he approached the morass of traffic in front of the border crossing he asked, “Heading north?”

“Meeting someone on the other side.  I doubt I’ll be back to trouble you.”

The agent snorted.  “No, I can’t imagine so.  I’d wish you good luck, but...”

Duncan chuckled softly.  “I am under no illusions.”

He strolled into the mass of idling cars, walking into the middle and then forward between two lanes of cars.  The searchlight from before swiftly picked him up, and stayed focussed on him for the entire walk.  Duncan smirked, and hoped Señora Blanca was making good use of the distraction.

The border itself was well before the rows of customs agents in their little pillared cubicles.  Other than a painted line athwart the road, there was nothing much to mark it here, but he could feel it.  The land itself knew where the boundary was, for all it was crafted by humans.  Duncan took a deep and entirely unnecessary breath, then stepped across the border.

Moments later, a dozen armed agents approached him, rifles aimed at his chest.  An older man with a military bearing approached, tailed by Agent Carson, who Duncan recognized not only by the image the agent had sent to his phone, but also by the significant magical power the man possessed.  Carson was no mere agent, he also appeared to be a magic-user.

The older man had an aide with him, who slipped through the ring of guards and held out a pair of handcuffs.  Duncan rolled his eyes, recognizing them as the exact same silver-lined model that the CIA guys had used the day before.  He held out his arms, and once the cuffs were on all the armed guards lowered their rifles and moved aside.

Duncan looked around, then shared a glance with Carson.  “Seriously?”

“Sorry.”

“Show’s over folks,” called the older man.  “Nothing to see.”

As Duncan was hustled off toward one of the buildings on the site, Carson fell in step beside him.

“They really have no idea, do they?” asked Duncan.

“They have faith in silver.”

“And you do not?”

“Unlike them, I’ve read the reports on you.”

“And you’re still here?” chuckled Duncan.

“You are not evil.  How many lives did you save today?”

Duncan’s eyes widened.  “I didn’t count.  And not all of them were dying of what ailed them.”

“Not evil.  I’m not worried for my own safety.  My country’s now...”

They arrived at a small interrogation room that closely resembled the one Duncan had occupied as a guest of the CIA.  He sat at the table as indicated.

“Now what?”

Carson shrugged, and looked to the uniformed man.  “Director?  What are your intentions with Mr. Faulkner?”

“I do not answer to you.  Customs and Border Protection has jurisdiction here.”

“The FBI...”

“Can go hang.  I’ll let you observe, but this is my prisoner.”

Duncan narrowed his eyes.  “I came here voluntarily.”

“And you are at the top of the interdicted list as of this morning.  You’re not going anywhere.”

“We shall see.”