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Irregular Magic

Page 18

by T J Kelly


  “Yeah. And maybe get something to eat,” Harris added. “Whatever they used to knock us out makes me want to puke. I need to eat something solid before I hurl.”

  I let out a snort of laughter. Harris was all stomach.

  We trudged across the water on the north side of the sandbar where the river was at its thinnest. Harris solidified the surface so we could walk on it instead of getting wet. Not like I couldn’t dry us off again, but the shaking had come back, and I wanted to avoid draining my energy any more than I already had. It also worried me I might be coming down sick.

  As if I needed that on top of everything else.

  It looked like my stint as the one in charge was over. I was relieved. Dragging three unconscious bodies along the bottom of the river was exhausting, and I didn’t want to think anymore. I shivered as we walked up to the edge of Highway 2. Seth flagged down a beat-up SUV with mud coating the sides.

  Hitchhiking was easy when you were a magician. Set off a Come-hither spell, and then a Nothing-to-see-here so the mundane humans didn’t pay attention to their passengers. Since we were on the run, we would take the precaution of making our driver forget he had ever picked us up, much less remember he took a detour north and over the border into Idaho as Seth suggested.

  “You sure you want to skip Wenatchee?” Peter asked. “They’ve got an airport, too.”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was the Taines who attacked us,” Seth said. “Mort and Ged told us they’ve been monitoring the nearby towns in case we passed through. They haven’t been in this area for weeks. Or so we thought. If they were in Cashmere, I don’t want to find out they’re still in Wenatchee, too.”

  “Sucks,” Peter said. He shifted deeper into the torn fabric on the back seat of the SUV. The two of us were in the rear, crammed in near some old car parts and dirty red shop rags. Seth and Harris occupied the middle two seats, which were a little better but covered in animal fur, probably a white dog with really long hair.

  I sneezed.

  Peter looked at me with concern, and I shrugged. My throat felt funny and my ears clicked when I yawned. I was sick, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  “Yeah. Frank here will take us where we need to go next,” Harris said. Frank, the man who picked us up off the side of the road, ignored the four of us as if we weren’t in the car. Seth said he was good with memory spells, and I could tell he wasn’t exaggerating. Frank wasn’t woozy or confused like most people under a spell that shut down their memory center. Mort told me it felt like blacking out after drinking too much, but I had to take his word for it. Rectors were too close to the edge of darkness to lose control like that. Ever.

  We had to find other ways to be the life of the party, I guess.

  I sneezed again, and sure enough, Peter pulled out a handkerchief and handed it over. I dug around in my backpack for some tissues to blow my nose because it was too gross to do that in a snowy-white fluff of pretty fabric like Peter’s handkerchief. I used it to dab my watering eyes, instead.

  “Are you sick, or is it allergies?” Peter murmured close to my ear. I leaned closer, my heavy head dropping onto his shoulder.

  “I think I’m sick,” I whispered. The other two heard me anyway if the groan Harris let out was any sign. Seth punched him on the arm and shook his head. He was probably telling his brother to shut up since I saved their lives and deserved to be babied and coddled. At least, that was my hope.

  Peter slipped his arm around me, and I closed my eyes, exhausted. The best thing about traveling with the three of them, besides the fact that Peter was always willing to be my personal heater and pillow, was there were enough powerful magicians to remain on alert so I could relax. Not that it was all that likely the Taines would guess we were in a beat-up old SUV driven by a guy named Frank.

  “Take a nap, Rector,” Seth ordered quietly. “We’ll be in the car for a while. Maybe some rest will help.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. I slipped my arm around Peter’s waist and clung to his shirt. I hated being sick. It always made me feel like I would slip and fall, even when I was sitting down. Peter tightened his grip. I think he remembered that from when we were in the infirmary. We had both been injured, not ill, and we talked a lot since there wasn’t much to do. It was one of the thousand things that came up as we fought to stave off boredom. I was glad he remembered or else I would worry he would think I was trying to get fresh with him.

  Nah. Peter knew better than that.

  I sank down into sleep, relieved to let go.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Armageddon Gets Real

  I was walking in the river again, dark water all around and three unconscious bodies tethered behind me. I didn’t know if I would ever make it out.

  My body felt bad, too. Like my head was stuffed full of cotton, and the Earth wanted its power back and was dragging every bit of energy I had into the ground as payment.

  “You look terrible,” Armageddon said. I saw him then, appearing beside me in a chair. “I would love to hear the story behind why we’re underwater, but I’m not sure we have much time. I want to make certain we get to the important stuff first.”

  “Uncle Ged!” I shouted. The water disappeared, and I ran to his side. Magma glowed red in the background. The sky was overcast, and a bit of the murkiness from the river remained. I coughed.

  How crappy was it that I couldn’t stop being sick for one minute, even in a dream?

  “Hey there, Mirabilia,” he said in a weary voice, using my full name. I was embarrassed by what it meant, had been my whole life. My uncle had used it once or twice, and it was okay because he believed it. He really did think I was “wonderful.”

  That was the best part about family. At least, my family. They thought I was great, even when I wasn’t.

  I tugged on the ropes that kept him lashed to the chair, but couldn’t loosen them or cut them with the pocket knife I had on me at all times, along with a few crystals blanks, just in case.

  “I can’t get you out,” I said, frustrated.

  “Skip it, I’m fine where I am. We need to talk. I can feel you traveling in our sleep. You’re going the long way,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Someone ambushed us. We’re driving north and east through Idaho and Montana for just a little while, and then we’ll come to you through Nevada. It’ll take twice as long.” I didn’t apologize, but there was regret in my voice.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine for a couple more days. He’s waiting for something. I overheard the guards discussing it. Hopefully, that means you’ll have time to heal from your cold before you arrive. Fighting is difficult when you’re sick.”

  “I’m worried about you, though,” I said. I rested my hand on his shoulder, not sure how to hug him while he was tied to a chair and secretly afraid there was a way to pass germs to him in a dream. Especially since it wasn’t entirely a dream. The Blood-of-my-blood spell linked the users in ways that always surprised a magician. It was never the same, always as unique as the people using the spell were. It would be just my luck I could make him sick.

  “I can’t figure this man out,” Armageddon said. “I haven't yet discovered his motives, except to make me pay for something he thinks I did. He may have been young when it happened because I don’t recognize him as an adult. And I'm unable to use any of my magic around him.”

  “What? How is that even possible?” A bolt of fear lanced through me. My uncle had immeasurable power. How could he be trapped like that? What was blocking his magic?

  “I don't know. Yet. When you arrive, be prepared for physical combat. There are three men who help him guard me, maybe more. Bring as many agents as you can who know how to fight dirty. My kidnapper knocked me flat before I knew what happened.” My uncle looked embarrassed of all things.

  “When I wake up, I’ll tell the guys. Peter and the Andersson brothers are with me.”

  “Ah, my escape route probably kicked in. Wait. Was the castle attacked
? Where’s Peony? Why isn’t she with you?”

  “She’s fine, don’t worry,” I said, reassuring him as best I could. “The four of us got away while Aunt Peony and the others stayed behind. There were at least three of them. We aren’t sure how they broke through the protective spells, though.”

  “The leader could have negated them. I don’t know how he does it. Were the rest of them fighting with magic?” he asked.

  “Yes, they were lobbing spells all over the place.”

  “I see. He must have left by then.” Armageddon paused for a brief moment, working out the problem in is head. “That’s a proximity issue. Or he has another limitation to his strength to negate magic. I’d love to find out what spell he’s using. There was a short time earlier where my power felt like it was trickling back, but things were still hazy from all the drugs he’d given me. I believe that’s when my captor was at the castle, breaking the home-and-hearth magic. That may weaken me, but it doesn’t stop me from using magic. Try to draw him away again, and I can save myself.”

  My blood ran cold when he mentioned drugs, but I nodded to indicate I was focused on his directions. It was a good idea, but I had no clue how to go about doing that.

  “What does this guy want from you?” I asked.

  “No idea. I’ve been trying to talk to him, but he doesn’t seem interested in conversation.”

  He didn’t say it, but if the enemy wasn’t talking to my uncle, that meant he spent the bulk of the time hurting him. The hand resting on my uncle’s shoulder tightened. I loved him and despair over the thought of him helpless held me in its grip and wouldn’t let go. The decisions I made had prolonged his pain and the danger he was in, and I wished I could fix it.

  “I’m going to kill him,” I blurted. And the thing was, I felt like I could. I already set aside the love and care I had for my uncle to give us the best chance to battle our enemy, and now I realized the darkness within me really was enough to allow me to snuff a human life. An evil, foolish magician who took my family. At least while I was this angry.

  “It may come to that,” Armageddon agreed. “But let’s take this one step at a time. I’d rather arrest him. And we should be able to. He can be bound with rope just as easily as I can. I’m embarrassed to say he got a jump on me because I rely too heavily on my magic now. I must book a few sessions with Mort to remind me of the tricks I learned as a boy before I became the mighty magician I am today.”

  My uncle was trying to relieve tension by cracking jokes, but it didn’t work as well as it usually did considering he was tied up, cuts and bruises covering his face. It also made it hard to laugh when my guardian and mentor didn’t even bat an eyelash when I said I would kill somebody because he believed me.

  And it was okay.

  Being an Irregular was so weird.

  So was the fact that I meant it.

  “I have my books in my backpack. I can probably find something that will help.”

  “Well, that’s interesting. Why are you lugging those things around? Not that I’m not grateful.”

  “I’ve been experimenting with the guys and it was more convenient that way. I also wanted to see if I could free Peter from having to draw to do his best work,” I explained.

  “Excellent line of study. Have you discovered anything useful?” he asked. There we were, my uncle tied to a chair, sitting along the edge of an active river made of molten rock, and he still had that bright spark of interest in his eyes.

  “I think so. I saw a few things that might help. I’ve also been working with Seth and Harris a lot. We found a way for them to use the other elements by connecting through the ones they didn’t connect to when they ascended.” Magicians had been stuck in the narrow limits set at their ascension for as long as our recorded history existed. Despite the circumstances, my uncle wanted to go into the details so he could forget about his situation for a while.

  “Good job, Lia!” he said. “Write me a report so I can read it when I get back. I want to share it with the other agents.” Despite their flexibility and additional powers, most of the Irregulars were limited by their elements just like any other magician. It was thrilling that my research could help keep them safe. It felt wonderful, like when I provided charity to the poor. Altruism was the price we paid, gladly, to offset the work we did in the dark. Maybe helping my fellow agents could balance the shady things I would do while in service to the Irregulars.

  “Is there anything else we should know?” I asked. We needed to get back to business because I had no idea how long the dream would last now that my strength was ebbing away. I sneezed. “Has he given you any hints about his identity at all?”

  “Nothing. I’m afraid you'll come in blind. And as a relative and known associate, he could have done his research and figured out your weaknesses. Be on the lookout for that if he tries another attack. It will put you at the disadvantage. Fortunately, his focus seems to be riveted on me and he may not recognize you. Stay back as long as you can behind the experienced agents. I’ll keep working on him when his magic weakens enough for me to slip into his head.” Armageddon always tried to give as much information as possible about our assignments before we went out into the field, and I could see how frustrated he was. And that he didn’t like me being out in the field. But now he knew Castle Laurus was no longer safe.

  “It’s fine. We'll figure this one out. Hang on, okay?” I didn’t want to get mushy, but I was freaked out by the scene in front of me and what I saw in my previous dream when he was being brutalized.

  “I will.” My uncle’s head jerked to the side. “He’s coming. Go. Run. We don’t know what will happen to our connection when he gets near, or if he can sense you. He must not be forewarned.”

  I gave his shoulder another squeeze and then with one last intense look, I hurried into the shadows in the distance.

  And not a moment too soon. The enemy called my uncle’s name, and the darkness melted into a puddle. The dream crashed around me as I jolted awake.

  I had answers, but I was also left with questions. Like how did our enemy stop our magic from working? What did he want?

  Helpless numbness had touched me as the dream dissolved. I recognized the feeling. It was how I had felt my entire life until I finally connected to my magic.

  There was no way I would let anyone put me back in that position again.

  I turned to where Peter sat by my side, my loyal friend. “I just had another dream about my uncle. We’ve got work to do.” It would have sounded more impressive, I was sure, if I hadn’t sneezed again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  We’re In For a Long Haul

  “Good old Frank,” Harris said as we climbed out of the SUV. “I’m going to miss him. He was great company.”

  I would have rolled my eyes more dramatically at him, but I was too stuffy and run-down to put in the required effort.

  We were at a used car lot in Missoula, Montana. Seth and Harris would pay for the car since they had the funds all Irregulars get while out on assignment in the pouches tied to their belts. Peter and I were standing outside with our backs against the wall of the main office. It was well-kept, much to our relief. That meant the quality of the vehicles they sold was likely pretty good.

  Peter scratched a mark in the dirt at our feet and cloaked us from view just in case the Taines or any other random enemy was lurking nearby. I dabbed my nose, quietly babying myself.

  “Got it,” Seth said a short while later. I had to hand it to the magical world - spells made the excruciating business of working on a deal so much quicker since we could tamper with the mundanes. That seemed sketchy to me, but it was accepted practice while on a special mission for the Council and had its benefits. Armageddon insisted his agents pay a fair price if we used those spells.

  Technically, anything an Irregular did was a special assignment for the Council. That was a tricky provision my uncle had worked into our contracts when he took over the elite fighting force.

  I
wasn’t sure what color it used to be, but the nondescript vehicle they bought was a faded reddish orange with blotches of that gray stuff I saw on beaten up old cars all the time. It was a dinky little thing, too.

  “Will we all fit?” I blurted. I was tired of being crammed into back seats, and that thing looked like we would need a shoehorn to wedge us all inside.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Harris said, laughing. “Seth and I used opposite elements to expand the interior without leaving a trace.”

  A pang shot through me. I had forgotten to tell my uncle about that aspect. Untraceable magic would be an incredible advantage.

  I grunted in acknowledgment. I was getting crabby and found myself not really caring what the guys did to the vehicle. I flat out didn’t want to get back into a car, and we were still in for a really, really long haul across several states before reaching my uncle.

  “Wow, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Seth teased. I wasn’t in the mood, but I felt a small, begrudging smile raise the corners of my lips, anyway.

  “Maybe,” I said. Then sneezed again. I wanted to cry. What a lame thing to happen on my first mission.

  We piled in. I looked around, relieved Harris hadn’t been exaggerating. They designed the spell to make the inside exactly like the limo at home. The one Peony and I liked to use. It had a huge back seat. Two of them, since one faced the rear of the car.

  On one seat sat a blanket and a giant box of tissues. I turned my face away, not wanting them to see the tears filling my eyes when I realized they really were going to pamper me after all.

  My head felt like it was filled with lead and my eyelids drooped. I was so tired I didn’t remember dozing. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but when I woke up, Peter and Harris were deep in conversation while Seth drove.

  “I don’t like using mundanes that way,” Peter was saying. “I usually stick with magic users when I develop a contact. It doesn’t seem right to force something on them when they have no choice. They can get hurt, too.”

 

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