by Tara Lain
“In my experience, it’s the same time in here as out there in Washington Square. The only problem about night is that if he has cellmates, they’ll be there for sure.”
“Not sure mage jail is going to remember Shawshank Redemption.” Dash clasped his hands. “But your point’s well taken. We haven’t got a clue where I’m going, so any time may be as good as another.”
Jazz paced a couple steps in the small space. “I don’t understand how you can teleport when you don’t know where you’re going.”
“I’m not sure I can, but that one time I came to you, I didn’t have a clue where you were. I’m hoping I can do the same thing with BeBop. Go to him anywhere he is.”
Jazz slid down the wall to a squat again. “Damn, that’s scary.”
“I’ll admit it has a few too many variables.” Dash chewed his lip. He didn’t want Jazz to know how scared he was. “But I can turn invisible after I arrive somewhere.”
Jazz looked excited. “That’s right. Can’t you teleport while invisible?”
“Apparently not.” He squatted so he was more eye-to-eye with Jazz. “Both powers require a ton of energy. I can’t hold both at the same time.”
Jazz frowned. “And if you get to BeBop, then you have to figure out some way to get him out. And yourself.”
Dash looked around, although all he could see was the little storage room. He spoke softly. “We’ve got to be careful in here. Things are moving fast toward the rescue, so it’s hard to predict where any of the dudes in on the plot are gonna be. And we can’t rely on the fact that no professor is going to be able to see us invisible.”
“Or just trip over us.”
Dash smirked. “Yes. I guess you must have run into Hillebrand while you were invisible.”
The wolf looked sheepish. “Yeah, damn. I should have told you. He could be looking for whoever did it. I knocked him on his butt.”
“No, actually he thought it was me. I guessed it must have been you, so I convinced him I’d been practicing invisibility, which made him so excited, he didn’t ask a lot of questions.”
Jazz waved a hand in front of his face in relief. “So when are we going to do this?”
Dash spread his arms. “Now.”
Jazz’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Uh, okay. How can I help?”
Dash cocked his head. “You already have, baby. But at this point, I’m not sure I can get myself to wherever BeBop is. I wouldn’t know where to start if I wanted to take you with me.”
Jazz wrinkled his nose. “Promise me you’ll teach me after you get back.”
If I get back. He didn’t say that out loud. “I promise.”
Jazz nodded, although his eyes kept getting wider. “Where do you want to do it?”
“In the obstacle course. Since I can’t be invisible when I teleport, I need an explanation for what I’m doing if someone finds me. Plus, the obstacle course is the only place out of the classroom where students are allowed to do magic, so I’m less likely to bring the faculty down on our heads.”
Jazz wrung his hands together, and suddenly he leaped at Dash and wrapped his arms around his neck like a boa constrictor that happened to be able to turn into a wolf. He babbled, “Please don’t take extra chances, and if it comes down to risking your life, quit and come back. We’ll find another way to get him out. Please, promise me. I can’t stand that you have to do this, and I love you, and I can’t imagine living—”
Dash captured Jazz’s rapidly moving lips with his mouth. Instant sweetness. Also instant hard-on, so after a minute’s deep exploration, he grasped Jazz’s arms and separated them. “I promise all those things.” He couldn’t remember what they were. “And I love you too.” He kissed Jazz again. The wetness on Jazz’s cheeks ripped at Dash’s heart, but all he did was swipe a finger under Jazz’s eyes. He gazed at this amazing man, wolf, mage, and slowly put his wet finger in his own mouth. “I’ll be as careful as I can.”
Jazz stared at him fiercely. After a moment, he nodded his head once. “I know that’s all you can promise.” He inhaled and let the air out slowly. “Let’s get started—or I’ll kiss you all night.”
“And I’ll let you.” He smiled softly. “But that won’t free BeBop.”
Dash turned and left the closet. Jazz followed him to the obstacle course. As they walked, Dash whispered, “Remember, the obstacle course is likely under surveillance, so I need to look like I’m alone.”
Dash entered the locker room, dropped the invisibility, and strode to the course. Okay, don’t stress. This is it.
Jazz, also visible now, hugged the wall and smiled encouragingly, but man did he look worried.
Dash moved into the open space near the door where they always did their practicing. He closed his eyes so Jazz’s pretty face wouldn’t be a distraction.
He concentrated on his chest. That’s where almost everything began with magic. The brain focused and manipulated the energy, but the heart generated it.
Heat spread out from the center, tingling and—“Damn!” He was invisible again.
“What?” Jazz took a step forward.
Dash frowned and shook his head. Jazz stepped back instantly and put a hand over his mouth.
Dash spoke like he was talking to himself. “Okay, so that’s one of my problems. The power of teleportation is very similar to invisibility.” He let go of the energy and popped back into his visible state.
He inhaled, didn’t close his eyes this time, but stared at the far wall. Intensely he thought, Teleport me. Again he generated energy from his heart, but this time without the tingle. And he built it higher, as if adding tons of fuel to a bonfire.
When the heat got so intense it was uncomfortable, he conjured a vision of BeBop—about five-eight, dark hair he wore slicked back, twinkling eyes surrounded by dark-rimmed glasses. He added suspenders and a retro suit to the vision. It made him smile. He really wanted to see BeBop, with his sass and his brilliance, and Dash let that longing pervade him.
He tried to relax and not get impatient even though he felt little difference—except a sense of anticipation. Chill. BeBop could be anywhere. Take me to BeBop anywhere in the world.
A sense of anticipation pressed against his belly. Something cool. Something great.
Flash. Like seeing one frame of a film, a picture of BeBop formed in his mind. A jolt of excitement speared through him. That wasn’t a picture. He’d seen BeBop. He was sitting on a bed. No, more like a cot. He seemed to be alone—and afraid.
Damn. Dash focused, let the heat rise, recaptured his snapshot of BeBop, and emanated the thought, Take me there. Take me to BeBop. He pushed energy after intention.
A weird seasick feeling rose in his stomach, and just as Dash felt himself moving—not flying exactly; more like he was being picked up by a crane—some tiny percentage of his brain saw Professor Hillebrand run into the obstacle course. Oh no. Jazz!
Wham. Dash slammed onto a hard surface, lost his footing, and fell on his butt. An impression of weird semidarkness pressed against his mind, but he gathered his awareness—even though it came with a lot of nausea—emanated heat, and became invisible.
Once he was pretty sure others couldn’t see him, he took a breath to try and settle his stomach and looked around. He was sitting on a floor that felt like a combo of steel and plastic. Strange. Ahead of him on a cot like somebody’s idea of an old prison movie sat BeBop, looking small and alone. Oh gods, he wanted to gather the kid to his chest and teleport him out of there.
Wait. Can I do that? Seemed ridiculous. He couldn’t even figure out exactly how he got himself there.
He stared around. What a weird place. It was like an open space divided into sectors by some invisible walls. Strange orangey light glowed from the ceiling with enough illumination to show that the other cell across from BeBop was empty. At least at that moment. There were lots of signs of habitation—some clothing on the cot, a couple of books, and some toiletries—so somebody was usually there, and Dash shuddered at
the thought of who it probably was.
He scuttled forward on his knees toward BeBop, being careful not to disturb anything. This was the kind of place that would be monitored. The fact that alarms weren’t ringing already said maybe whoever was watching the cameras might be asleep at the wheel. Good thing for Dash.
Leaning as close to BeBop’s ear as he could get without touching, Dash whispered, “BeBop, it’s Dash. Don’t freak. I want you to know that I now know where you are, and I’ll find some way to get you out. Okay?”
BeBop stirred and raised his head so fast, Dash had to pull back or get slammed in the nose.
“Shh. Don’t react. They’re watching.” Hell, they might be listening as well.
“What?” BeBop looked around him wildly.
Dash started to whisper again when voices sounded from near the door into the other cell.
Dash panicked. It would have been nice to put a better face on it, but no way. Think! He had to be visible to teleport, and in a couple of seconds, his chances for being visible would be zero.
Deep breath, return energy to form.
He heard BeBop gasp as he gathered the power in his chest, visualized the obstacle course, and tried not to barf as the universe hurled him through space and dropped him on the simulated dirt of the course.
Dash didn’t even try to stay upright. His knees collapsed, and he flopped onto the ground until he was sitting with his knees bent, arms resting on them and head hanging.
“Oh my gods, you did it. You did it!” Hillebrand rushed out of the locker room door, where he must have been lying in wait.
Dash glanced around furtively. Where’s Jazz? Did he get out of the obstacle course, or is the poor guy sitting in here somewhere barely breathing? Dash glanced up at Hillebrand. “Yep. I did it.”
Hillebrand hunkered down next to Dash. “So where did you go?”
“Uh, I wanted to try someplace familiar, so I went to my room.”
Hillebrand nodded. “Umm. Do you think you can go someplace more complex?”
“Not without some kind of anchor. But if you can give me something to visualize, I think I can, yes.” He kept breathing deeply.
“You okay?”
Dash nodded. “Seasick.”
Hillebrand grinned. “Yeah, it’s a weird feeling, isn’t it?”
“Like getting picked up by a crane, shaken, and dropped somewhere else.”
“That’s it, all right.” Hillebrand laughed. “But this means we can move right away.”
Dash looked at Hillebrand. “Move how?”
Hillebrand had been squatting. He dropped to his butt and leaned toward Dash. “As you know, we want to rescue a mage hero from where he’s being held against his will. We have the force to invade the prison, but we’ve needed someone inside. We had that person, but we lost him. We have another, but less seasoned and reliable than our previous insider. But now we have you. You can enter, take them by surprise, or immediately become invisible and let the forces in to complete the rescue.”
Dash stared at the dirt. So what the hell’s the reality here? They have to know I fought Nardo, don’t they? Why are they ignoring that and assuming I’ll go along?
Hillebrand said, “Deep in thought?”
Hell, dive! “Okay, we keep walking around this huge elephant in the room. You’ve got to know that I’m not dumb and I suspect who we’re rescuing, right? Which means you know I helped put him where he is.” Be careful with these next words. “So what makes you think he’s going to be okay with me being part of his rescue team?” Dash shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “And why do you think it’s okay with me to do it?”
Hillebrand leaned back. “Why did you have the battle with Nardo?”
“He kidnapped my friends. I didn’t even know who he was.”
“Right. So you were being a loyal friend, and it didn’t matter to you who you were fighting.”
“I suppose.”
“Nardo now admits it was a mistake. He was curious because your friend appears to possess the same unique combination of skills as he does. But it was wrong to try to, shall we say, acquire him in that way. As for you, he has huge respect for your skills in one so young. After all, you were standing against one of the greatest wizards of all time.”
“Okay.” Dash stared at Hillebrand.
“But the fact is, Dash, magery has been losing steam. You’re young and sheltered here at Arcantaria, but there was a time when your level of skill was more commonplace. Now many of our community live essentially as humans, and their powers are negligible. I blame it on leadership. We need an exciting cause. That’s why the Olympus Club seeks the best of the best, because magery’s plain old best isn’t good enough anymore. We need your kind of talent to sit at the right hand of a powerful leader to bring magery back to itself and make sure we aren’t simply absorbed by the vast human community.”
Dash nodded. “Interesting.” That’s quite a story. It had to be seductive to a lot of mages.
Hillebrand spread his arms and smiled. “So like you said, you’re smart. You have nothing against Nardo personally as long as he leaves your friends alone. I think you’re too smart to not see the value of our plan and your place in it.”
“Why break him out? Why not just present your position and let others see the right of it?”
Hillebrand sighed. “We’ve tried, but mages don’t share power easily. Sometimes it takes a bold move to allow people to see what’s good for them.”
Right. A bold move like taking over magery. His heart beat in his ears so he could barely hear. Dash said, “I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble getting over the seasick feeling. I think I better lie down for a few minutes.”
“All right, but work on conquering it. You’re going to need to be rock-solid when you get there.”
“Yeah, well, this was two trips in a short time.” He staggered to his feet, putting on a bit of an act. Gotta get out of here.
“Yes, of course. Well, practice and get your sea legs. We’ll talk later about the plan details.”
“Right.” Dash walked unsteadily to the locker room, opened the door, and held it open while he said, “Let me know when you want to talk next steps.” Then he closed the door, hurried to the exit to the hall, held it open for an extralong time, and rushed out. What in hell do I do now?
Chapter Thirty
DASH RACED up the staircase toward his room, hoping like hell that Jazz was behind him. When he opened the door to his room and felt Jazz’s warmth brush past him, he about collapsed from relief.
When the door closed, Jazz slipped into visibility, and Dash fell into his arms. “Oh my gods, what am I going to do? What?”
Jazz kissed his face, gently drew him back to the bed, and pressed him onto his back. “Breathe.”
Dash nodded and did what he said.
“First things first. Did you find BeBop?”
Dash nodded again, took another drink of air and said, “He’s in this electronic jail, and damn, he’s across from Nardo. By sheer luck, I got there when Nardo was gone, or—” He swallowed hard. “——I wouldn’t be here now.”
Jazz kissed his nose. “But you made it. You saw BeBop. Did you talk to him?”
“He was asleep, but I whispered to try and wake him up.” He screwed his face up in anxiety. “But while I was trying to communicate, they were coming back, and I had to get out or I never would.” His pulse tripped again, and he took another breath.
“Okay, you saw him. How can we get him out?”
Dash ripped a hand through his hair. “Gods, I don’t know. We’d have to replicate what the Olympus Club is doing to get Nardo out, and we can’t—”
“Shh, shh, shh.” Jazz pressed their lips together, and it felt so good even though it didn’t solve anything. “No invasion force. We’ve got you. Hillebrand’s so sure you’re the key to his success, he’s closing his eyes to all kinds of conflicts. So how do we harness the Dash missile?”
Dash sighed. “I ca
n go there and see him—if they don’t catch me before I go invisible. But then what?”
“Can’t you teleport him back with you?”
Dash started shaking his head before Jazz even finished. “How? I don’t even know if transporting by teleportation is a thing. And if it is, I don’t know how to do it and, oh gods—”
“Easy. Shh. Just think. How can you find out if it’s a thing? How can you learn to do it?” He smiled softly.
Dash looked into those deep golden eyes. “Hillebrand.”
Jazz nodded, kissing Dash on each descent of his head. “Hillebrand.”
Dash whispered, “But what if I get sucked into this shit so deep I end up having to break Nardo out?”
“You won’t. Honest. You won’t.”
Dash closed his eyes and tried to believe.
Jazz whispered, “Can you help me learn to teleport? Do you think I can?”
Dash’s eyes snapped open, and his lips parted. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You have a few things on your mind.”
Dash nodded and sat up. “Yes, of course you can. You’re at least as powerful as I am.”
“I doubt that, but let’s try.” Jazz sat looking cute and expectant.
“We have to hurry. Hillebrand will be looking for me.”
“Take a breath.”
Dash nodded. “Okay, you know the drill. Focus on your chest and feel the heat gather. Once it’s there, it’s like—” He waved his arms. “—you clearly picture the place or person you want to go to, then send the heat out into your extremities in a big blast of energy while projecting ‘take me there.’ You should feel like someone picked you up with a crane, shook you around, and dropped you in the new place. It’s pretty disorienting at first.” He smiled. “Actually, it may be disorienting forever. I don’t know yet. You got it?”
Jazz already had his eyes closed, and his face showed the tightness of intense concentration.
Dash said, “Don’t strain. It’s like throwing the energy—”
