“Well, I swear,” he boomed, “Butter my butt and call me a biscuit. How come you ain’t hollered at your boy?”
He grabbed her and pulled her in close. She felt his warmth and returned the hug.
“Scott,” she patted his chest, “I have no idea what you just said, but it’s good to see you.”
“I believe the young man is wondering why you haven’t called,” Doris sniffed over a cup of black coffee.
“True dat.” Ricky was nodding and winking at Scott. “Least ya coulda done was send us a text or something.”
Sami looked back and forth from Scott to Ricky. They were a lot alike. Except that Scott was crazy smart. She slid into the chair next to him and motioned for him to sit down.
“I’m sorry guys, really.” She shook her head. “So much has happened, I didn’t have time.”
“Everything is okay, right dearie?” Doris put her cup down.
“I think so…yes.”
“Family’s okay?” the older woman asked.
“Yeah.” Sami’s voice didn’t sound very confident.
Doris’ face turned into a mask of worry. Sami put her hand on the woman’s arm.
“Everything is fine. RayRay is stuck out at The Farm and he…well, he lost the violin.”
Ricky Boshears leaned back in his chair and whistled.
“Don’t that slap you to sleep ‘n then slap you for sleepin’?” Scott chewed the inside of his mouth.
Sami started to ask him what the hell that meant, but decided against it, knowing it would open up a whole new conversation that she didn’t want to have.
“Anyhow,” Ricky interrupted her thought, raising his jacket and pulling a manila folder out of his pants. “I checked with my buddy down at the KDP. He had one eye witness to yer little display down at the Sunsphere. He said they all chalked it up to a hoax and was about to destroy the file. I grabbed it for ya.”
He extended the folder toward Sami and she stared at it, remembering that he had pulled it out of his pants seconds ago. She wondered how long it had been there.
“Why don’t you…take care of that for me?”
“Burn pile?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
With that, Ricky stuffed the folder back into his pants and grinned, “that’s where I put all the evidence. Nothin’ left after a good fire but the ashes.”
Doris smacked him on the back of the shoulder.
“You know I’m playin’, Doris.”
“Manners, young man.”
Ricky nodded sheepishly and sipped his double espresso.
“So, Sami,” Scott sniffed and wiped his nose, “you got any idea what happened to the violin?”
“Not really. But I swear on the way back into town, I discovered a trail…a trail of magic. I think someone stole the violin from The Farm and headed back east with it. They might’ve played it or tried to play it. I followed it as long as I could, but I lost it down around Kingston close to Gallaher Road.”
“Don’t that make a bishop mad enough to kick in stained glass windows?” Scott slapped his palm on the table.
No one paid any attention to his outburst.
“From The Farm you say, dear?” Doris chimed in.
“Yeah. RayRay had it up until the—” Sami lowered her voice, “until the White Cloaks showed up. Then I guess when they asked to hear him play, they discovered it was gone.”
“Well, I know RayRay had it when I dropped him off. Heard him open the case and check on it. So, you’ve got a mole at The Farm.”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it? But why bring it back east?”
“Probably takin’ it up to some super secret lab at Oak Ridge,” Ricky chewed an imaginary wad of tobacco in his cheek.
Sami huffed out a laugh, “And why would the hell they do that?”
Ricky grunted, “Ain’t it obvious? The government types have figured out that their fiddle is full o’ magic and they want to use it for a weapon. And what better place to study a weapon than the lab that gave us Little Boy and Fat Man.”
Scott leaned over to whisper in Sami’s ear, “That boy’s only got one oar in the water. You better watch out for him.”
Sami kissed him on the cheek, “I don’t know. I think he’s got a point.”
“Magical place up there,” Doris stared into the air beyond them, “Why, Arthur used to like taking me camping up off Solway Road. Course, back then we were young and there wasn’t much out there but trees. And the fireflies.”
Sami arched an eyebrow. “The fireflies?”
“Mmhmm,” Doris seemed to come back to the present, “Just beautiful. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of those lightning bugs all flashing in unison. A rare and special treat.”
“I heard ‘em talkin’ all about the stinkerificleness fireflies up there a few years ago.”
“Ricky, how do you even think stickerrific…el…ness is a word?” Sami turned to Doris. “Whereabouts was that, Doris?”
“Haw Ridge Park. Middle of nowhere. Perfect place for a secret lab studying magic artifacts.”
Sami started to laugh. It was a far-fetched premise at best but the trail had seemed to head in that direction off the interstate.
“I know that look, Sami,” Scott was shaking his head, “And if you’re even thinkin’ half of what I think yer thinkin’—”
“What? Huh? Who? Me? Nooooo.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m heading home to bed. It’s been a long day and I need to get there before the snow gets too deep.”
Sami faked a yawn and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw one of the homeless guys at the front of the room staring at her. But as soon as she made eye contact with him, he turned away. She shook it off and stood up. A soft chattering sound came from her backpack. Mikki is probably ready for a good night’s sleep too, she thought. Scott gave her a warning look from under an arched eyebrow.
“You need me to follow ya home?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. This was starting to feel more and more comfortable. Could be a spark there, but she didn’t have time to follow that trail yet.
“No, I’m good. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Aight. Be careful out there. It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a pool table.”
Sami laughed and waved to them as she walked out. She glanced at the two guys by the door, but they weren’t paying any attention to her. As she jogged to her car in the heavy falling snow, she felt the weight of exhaustion hit her. She was bone tired as Scott might say. She’d grab a good night’s sleep and then she’d do some checking into the supposed magical lab hiding out in Haw Ridge Park.
“Mikway?” a soft voice echoed from her backpack.
“Okay, baby.” Sami smiled. “We'll stop on the way home.”
Joe nudged Patrick on the shoulder of his tattered and torn army surplus jacket. These disguises had been exactly what the doctor ordered to spy on the girl. She hadn’t suspected anything. They sat in the front of the coffee shop watching and listening as she met with her friends. This was exactly the kind of intel that would finally get him in with the White Cloaks.
He had poked around a bit and found a woman who had witnessed the incident at the Sunsphere and traced it back to Sami via a random Instagram post. Then it was just a quick search for the official transcripts to link Sami to the UT Vet School. Who would’ve thought walking in the door and asking where he could find his old friend Samantha would’ve given him the location of her favorite coffee shop. Less than twenty-four hours after donning the disguises, in she walked.
“Can you believe the luck, Pat?”
“You were right, Joe. And when you’re right, you’re right.”
“And I’m always right. Right?”
“Right.”
“Let’s get out of here so I can put in a call to the Cloaks and see what they want us to do.”
“Can we get a pizza?”
“If this thing goes through with the Order, I’ll get you any pizza you w
ant. Hell, I’ll get you a hundred pizzas.”
“I dunno what I’d do with a hundred pizzas, but…okay.”
Outside Old City Java, Joe clicked his phone open and made the call.
“Yeah. She’s saying something about going out to Oak Ridge. Something about finding a magic lab out there or whatever.”
The voice on the other end of the line said something Patrick couldn’t make out, but Joe’s broad smile spread across his face.
“You want us to follow her and then call in with her location. We can do that.”
The voice said something more.
“Oh, no, no. We would never interfere. Keep tabs on her until you get there. You’ve got the right guys for the job. We’ll be in touch soon.”
Joe clicked his phone off and tucked it away into his coat. He pulled a small black box about the size of a box of matches out of his pocket and held it up for Pat to see.
“Okay, Pat, let’s go get some pizza to celebrate. Big Ed’s is right across the street. We can keep an eye on her from there and get this tracker on her car.”
“Mmmmm,” Patrick rubbed his rotund belly, “Love me some Big Ed’s.”
“Let’s go, partner.”
17
Sacrifices
Artemis Baen blinked his eyes. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but apparently he had. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He stared down at the leather bonds holding him in the steel chair. In his right arm, below his elbow, was a piece of gauze taped over a clear tube. The tube led up to a bag of light amber fluid that was dripping into his arm. His shook his head trying to clear the fog residing there. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn’t quite remember the details of how he’d ended up in the chair, but he felt with absolute certainty that he was in imminent danger. Adrenaline laced with panic shot through him, but they were quickly squashed into submission. He suspected the drip bag was full of some pretty powerful drugs.
“Ah, welcome back, Mister Baen,” Elke’s voice drifted at him from across the room. “Please forgive me for the restraints, but we have found that our subjects do better with them in place.”
“Subjects?” Baen’s voice felt mushy in his mouth, like he was speaking through a handful of cotton balls.
“We have been studying the violin and the associated reading materials we have acquired through various means and there is a need for multiple subjects. These subjects provide the cost for making the effects of the artifact more…permanent.”
“Huh?” Baen tried desperately to shake the cloud from his mind. “Reading materials? Cost? What’s going on here?”
Elke stepped closer to him. She had her arms folded across her chest and he noticed for the first time that she looked distinctly un-human. These must be some freaky good drugs they’re pumping into me, he thought.
“Mr. Baen,” she inhaled, “there is so much you do not know about the power you have brought to me. But you will learn. Finnegan?”
When she called the name, a short—no, a tiny—little man hobbled toward her. The figure was no taller than a toddler. He wore a royal blue tunic, belted at the waist with a yellow and gold strand of twine. A tall cone-shaped red cap stood up on his thick curly white hair. His white beard made him look like a miniature Santa Claus. In his hands, he held a large leather-bound book that looked as if it had been buried at the bottom of a dusty grave for a century or two.
Artemis started giggling. A gnome. Finnegan was a garden gnome! He was hallucinating, but this was fun. He decided to play along.
“Hey, buddy,” he addressed the squat figure, “I need a hotel in Bangkok!”
Elke frowned, “Finnegan Hobgood is not the Travelocity roaming gnome, Mister Baen. He was a respected caretaker at the—”
“At the place where you’ll never roam alone!” Baen chimed in with the travel website’s familiar slogan.
Elke huffed and finished her thought, “at the Solarian Elves’ Athenaeum. That is until they fired his cousin, Gelbus Cogspark Hobgood. His revenge was complete when he brought me this long-forgotten tome.”
Baen laughed again, sounding much like a drunk and/or stoned version of Dennis Hopper.
“Yeah, man. The gnomes of the atheneminimum, man. Revenge. Ha. They can take away our jobs, but they can’t take away our dusty old books!”
Elke looked over Baen’s shoulder to the tech monitoring his vital signs.
“Can we please turn down the drip? He’s a bit too far out.”
“Far out, mannnnn.”
Elke took the book from Finnegan. She laid it open on a table next to the chair Baen was strapped in and flipped a few pages.
“It’s all here,” she said, almost to herself. “The artifact will produce a more lasting and powerful effect in the direct presence of the magic of Azuria. The Caulla under our lab here will suffice to enhance the results. What you did not know, Mister Baen, is that the magic governing the age slowing effect of the artifact is governed by rules much like the law of conservation of energy here on Earth. Where one receives the benefit of youthfulness, one must give up their youth.”
Baen felt the shadow of grogginess lifting from his mind as the drip slowed from the amber liquid in the bag beside him. He still didn’t understand exactly what she meant, but he began to suspect that it was bad news for him.
“A sacrifice, in effect.”
The word sacrifice echoed around in Baen’s head and he realized why he was bound. Elke was going to steal what little youth he had left in him.
“What you also might not have realized is that the quality of the music being produced on the violin has a direct correlation with the power of the anti-aging effect. While you may have been able to scratch out a few notes and clear up a few wrinkles, it is nothing in comparison to the effect of a master playing the instrument.”
Baen had surmised that was true before coming here. He figured a real musician would produce a stronger magic.
“You have heard of the great master of the violin, Yo-Yo Ma?”
Baen felt his eyebrows rise.
“Isn’t he a cellist?”
“Yes, but that is no matter. He could play any instrument with strings the same.”
“So, you’re tellin’ me, you’ve brought Yo-Yo Ma here to play the violin and steal my soul?” Baen turned toward Finnegan. “Can I get that ticket to Bangkok for real now?”
Elke shook her head “No, you stupid fool. We do not have Yo-Yo Ma. We have his lesser-known, illegitimate brother, Wang Wei Ma. Of course, not quite the master of the cello, but a renowned player in his own right.”
Baen almost laughed out loud at the thought of the world famous cellist having a sibling out of wedlock and that being her first choice. But the situation was looking a little darker and more sinister, so laughter seemed inappropriate.
She snapped her fingers. A forty-something year old Chinese man stepped forward. He bowed. Two technicians in white HAZMAT suits appeared from behind Baen. One carried the violin and the other carried the bow. They handed the instrument to the man called Wang Wei Ma. He eased himself down into a folding chair that Elke slid near him. He plucked the strings one at a time, adjusting the tuning keys. When he was satisfied, he took in a deep breath, tucked the artifact under his chin and pulled the bow across the strings.
I am screwed, Baen thought as the beautiful music began to fill the sterile room.
Samantha Dawn Proctor had what most people would consider a nightmare, but her growing realization that she could wield insanely powerful magic made her more curious than afraid. She figured out it was a dream when she started down what looked like a long hospital hallway that had hundreds and hundreds of doors. Each one she tried was locked until she got to the one with the number 865 on it, the city of Knoxville’s area code. She wondered if that was significant.
She opened the door and was greeted with icy cold blackness. As it opened, it sucked her inside like a tidal wave. Then it slammed shut behind her.
“Welcome,” a seductive, slithery voic
e said echoing in the darkness.
“Who’s there?”
“We have not met…yet. But we will.”
The voice sounded German, or Austrian or something like that. Lots of “V’s.”
Just in front of her in the room, a tiny pinprick of red light began to glow and widen. It shined on a figure that looked something like a giant serpent with the torso and head of a woman. Though her arms and exposed chest were all woman, her hair was thousands of tiny snakes.
Medusa? Sami thought.
As if reading her mind—a strange thought, considering that they were inside her mind—the voice said, “So much worse than Medusa ever dreamed of being.”
The serpent lady began to slither toward Sami and her face came out of the shadows. Her eyes glowed red and her teeth were sharp daggers. A forked tongue flitted across them one by one. Sami found herself staring into the woman’s eyes and felt a strange sensation crawling into her fingers. She looked down at her hands and saw that the skin under her fingernails was turning to stone.
Without hesitation, Sami drew the powerful magic she was only starting to learn to command into her arms. The glowing, fiery sigils flamed through the stone, sending it in splinters off her hands. The Medusa-like creature recoiled back in surprise.
“Yeah?” Sami clasped her hands together and a round ball of flame appeared around them. “Well, I’m Medusa’s worst nightmare.”
She raised her hands above her head. It felt good to be in command of the magic. She let it flow as deep as she ever had into the glowing orb in her hands. It grew until it was the size of a soccer ball.
“Incendo,” she flung the ball at the snake woman as hard as she could.
It flew through the air at a speed Sami thought was inhumanly fast. The woman jerked to the side with ease and the ball of flame brushed past her singing a few snake strands of her hair. They squealed and writhed as smoke drifted up off them.
Spell Song: An Enchanting Urban Fantasy Page 13
