Tracks swords

Michael’s truck pulled into the street and stopped in front of us. I hurried Alicia forward. The door swung open, and Molly leaned out, taking Alicia’s hand and pulling her in. I went in right behind her, though it made things awfully cozy in the pickup’s cab.
“He’s loose with the swords,” I said. “Did you do it?”
“Did it,” Molly replied, and promptly handed me a dashboard compass with one of her own golden hairs stuck to it with clear tape. The needle pointed firmly to the east, instead of to the north. The grasshopper had set up a basic tracking spell, one of the handier tricks I know.
“He’s probably moving on foot through the park,” I told Michael. “Circle around to Lakeshore, get us in front of him.”
“Are you all right, baby?” Michael asked.
Alicia fumbled for his hand and squeezed it tight. Then she leaned against Molly and started crying.
“Hurry,” I told Michael. “He’s got to know we’ve bugged the swords somehow. If he finds those hairs Molly tied onto the hilts, we’re done.”
“He won’t get away,” Michael said with perfect confidence, and slammed the accelerator down as we approached an intersection sporting a bright red light. Maybe it was divine intervention, or fate, or just good driving, but the truck shot through the intersection, missing two other cars by inches, and sailed on forward.
The needle on the compass pointed steadily toward the park as we went, but then abruptly began to traverse from one side to the other. I looked up ahead of me and saw a dark form sprinting across the road that separated the park from Lake Michigan.
“There!” I shouted, pointing. “There he is!”


Side Jobs, The Warrior, Page 258-259