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first, because Marla’s a big believer in self-sufficiency without spells, but once I had
that down, she taught me the shortcuts.” As he spoke, he pulled out the ashtray and
tossed it in the backseat, then reached into the cavity revealed and did something with
the wires inside. The engine roared to life. Rondeau sat up, threw the car into gear, and
drove.
“Don’t you feel guilty about stealing a car?” B said.
“Nah,” Rondeau said. “Especially not when it’s a rental.” He tapped a sheaf of papers
clipped to the visor. “And especially especially not when I’m on a mission to help save
the world. Even if I’m not actually crucial to that mission.”
“I didn’t have a vision about you,” B said. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a role
to play. We can both help Marla.”
“Doomed to be a best supporting actor,” Rondeau said. “It’s a hell of a life. Where are
we going?”
“Oh, right, the Japanese Tea Garden, in the park. I don’t drive much, but I think I can
figure it out—”
“I got it,” Rondeau said, expertly piloting the car through the maze of one-way streets
and double-parked obstacles that filled this part of the city. “I was excited about coming
to San Francisco. I memorized all the maps.”
“All the maps?”
“You’re not the only one with natural talents,” said Rondeau.
Marla and Cole crept toward the closed gates of the Japanese Tea Garden, and Ch’ang
Hao walked softly a short distance behind them. A painted sign hanging on the gate
read “Closed for Maintenance,” probably something Mutex had found tucked in a shed
somewhere. Marla closed her eyes, trying to visualize the layout of the garden as she’d
seen it from above in the glass. “Mutex is toward the northwest, near the center of the
gardens. We can go northeast and slip around past the actual tea house—there’s lots of
cover there, hedges, and the gift shop—and get pretty close to him without being seen, I
bet.”
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Cole said.
“Watch out for frogs,” she said.
“I shall.”
“Are the frogs going to be a problem for you, Ch’ang Hao?” she asked.