by Jamie Davis
“That’s ridiculous,” Quinn said. “If there are rules, how can you bend them?”
“It’s like this, Quinn,” Miranda said. “If a mage wants to fly, they have to understand basic physics and aerodynamics. Otherwise, the spell won’t work. Only by knowing how the rules of nature apply can you subvert them in particular ways.”
“I still don’t see the difference. It seems totally the same as what happened last night to all those people.”
“And to you over the last two weeks, remember?” Miranda added. “It’s a matter of understanding all the rules. No one can remember all of it, so mages, witches, and other magic users have specialties—things they’re better at when it comes to spells. Usually, those correspond to a particular school of thought like chemistry, physics, natural order, and biology. All of us who can cast spells are good with one or two areas, and we can dabble with simple spells in most areas. But one person can’t do all the things we listed from last night, especially when coupled with all the things you’ve experienced. There’s just no way.”
“But it happened,” Quinn said. “That makes it possible.”
Clark nodded. “That’s what points to an outbreak of wild magic. I think Miranda is right, and that’s not a good thing. We’re just lucky it has limited itself to Quinn and her immediate vicinity so far.”
“Me?”
Naomi nodded. “It makes much more sense now. Somehow, someone has tagged you with some sort of charm or curse that is allowing the wild magic to break free around you.”
Clark walked over to the map and stared at it for a few seconds before turning around. “No one died last night, right? None of your stories had any major injuries.”
Taylor smiled. “You think it might be a benign outbreak?”
“There’s no such thing,” Miranda countered. “You are too young to remember the last outbreak, and you wouldn’t have heard about it because you weren’t part of the supernatural community until recently. It happened right after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans.”
Clark shook his head. “It was bad. I heard it took several families of Cajun mages from down in the bayous to come up and sort it out. Apparently, someone owned an occult shop and died of a heart attack during the storm. They never got the chance to secure their shop against magical intrusion. The chaos of the hurricane passing over triggered one of the ancient artifacts she owned. When the storm passed, everyone assumed the worst was over. Then the wild magic struck and let loose a string of uncontrolled outbreaks. Some of them caused the pumps to seize up and the levees to fail.”
“Thousands died,” Miranda said. “All because of an outbreak of wild magic. And that one was contained after only forty-eight hours.”
“Forty-eight hours?” Quinn asked. “This one has been going on for two weeks.”
“That’s why we’re lucky,” Clark said. “It’s also why we need to track this down right away. We can’t count on us staying lucky for much longer.”
“You said it’s centered on me?” Quinn frowned. “How could that be? Wouldn’t I know?”
“Two weeks,” Clark said. “That was when we sent Gemma on her way. Could she have left some sort of trap that caught Quinn without us knowing it?”
“I don’t think so,” Miranda said. “Quinn, think back to the fight with Gemma and the interval until the first incident happened outside your apartment. Did you notice anything unusual happening around you, maybe even within you, before your foot sank into the floor outside your apartment?”
“Like what?”
“It could be anything,” the ghost went on. “Think. Was there anything strange that happened to you during the attacks? Maybe that could link back to a specific event you don’t remember.”
Quinn rubbed her hands together as she thought about it, then stopped and stared down at her fingers. “The tingling.”
“What tingling?” Naomi asked.
“Ever since I pulled the spear out of Avery’s back, my right hand has sort of tingled. Not all the time, just on and off.”
Miranda said, “You never said anything about that. Tell us exactly how it happened from the first time you felt it.”
Quinn explained how Gemma had magically launched the golden spear at Avery. The shaft had pulsed with sparks of energy when Quinn gripped it to pull the head out of her friend’s back.
“I realized at the time that I could pull in that energy and channel it to help heal Avery. I had no juice left in the tank, so I couldn’t do it on my own. The spear held the only power source around, so I used it to replenish my mana supply.”
“I need to see that spear,” Miranda said. “Then we have to see if the archives in the Hunter chambers below have any information on how to contain wild magic once it’s set free.”
“You think it was the spear?” Naomi asked. “I’ve touched it. It felt like it might have magical properties, but nothing happened to me from handling it.”
“You didn’t draw spell energy through it the way Quinn did.” Miranda turned to the Huntress. “Go get the spear and bring it here. We’ll wait. I need to prep Taylor to do the divination spell so we can verify it as the source.”
Quinn frowned. Was all this somehow her fault, even though she’d tried to do everything right? She pulled the door shut behind her and trudged up the hall that led to the pub.
She shook herself. There was no use moping about what might have been. At least they’d figured it out. Quinn stood up straight and put her shoulders back. A Huntress didn’t shy away from trouble. If this was related to her, she’d find a way to counter it and make everything right again. She picked up her pace so she could get the spear back down and they could stop the wild magic once and for all.
Chapter Four
Quinn entered her apartment and froze. Someone or something was inside. A peculiar rhythmic scraping noise came from back toward her bedroom. Her door had been locked, and her silver Huntress amulet remained warm against her breastbone beneath her shirt. The lack of a chill from the magic charm didn’t tell her everything, though. Apparently, it didn’t warn her against wild magic attacks.
The scraping sound continued as Quinn took a few more steps inside and stopped. Whatever it was making the noise, it was back by the short hallway to her bedroom.
Quinn drew her Bowie and held it at her side, ready for anything as she walked into the hall. She checked to make sure the bathroom was empty and the linen closet door was closed. Whoever or whatever it was, they were in her bedroom.
The door was only open a few inches, so she couldn’t see the whole room from the hallway. Quinn walked the final steps, pushed the door open all the way, and relaxed.
The football-sized glittering green egg spun like a top on the wooden floor beside her bed, its rock-hard surface scraping the boards on each rotation. While she’d seen it move on its own before, usually in reaction to her imaginary conversations with it, it had never been quite this animated before.
She crossed to it and knelt beside it. “Hey, you. What’s got you all worked up?”
Quinn laid a hand atop the egg, finding that the shell was almost too hot to touch. She pressed down until the spinning egg slowed to a stop. Even though it no longer spun, it wasn’t stationary. The egg vibrated to the point it almost hummed beneath Quinn’s outstretched hand.
Concerned, Quinn picked up the egg and cradled it against her chest with both arms. She sat down on her bed and rocked the egg, cooing a soothing tune without words until the vibrations settled into a gentle, pulsing rhythm. That was better. She’d come to associate the rhythmic pulse with the little dragon inside falling asleep.
Quinn set the egg on her pillow, patting it once with an outstretched hand. “Must’ve been a bad dream,” she said to herself. She chuckled. “If baby dragons dream, that is.”
Making sure the egg had settled and wasn’t likely to roll off the bed, Quinn went to the corner on the opposite side of the bed. The golden spear she’d taken from the Crystal Well was propped the
re. As she reached for it, she stopped. Her right hand tingled with that same pins-and-needles sensation she’d felt so often lately.
Quinn brought her hands together, rubbing her right hand and wrist with her left until the tingling passed. It took almost a full minute for the sensation to fade.
Knowing her friends were waiting for her, Quinn braced herself, reached out with her left hand this time, and gripped the golden wood of the shaft. She half-expected it to zap her with a shock of energy again, especially after the tingling she’d experienced.
Nothing happened.
Realizing she’d been holding her breath, Quinn let herself relax, releasing the air through pursed lips. She left her bedroom and headed for her apartment’s front door. She dipped the leaf-shaped head atop the seven-foot weapon to pass beneath the doorframe and pulled the door shut behind her. She made sure it had latched and locked, then walked downstairs.
Minutes later, Quinn stood in Taylor’s workroom with her friends. The rough wooden table usually reserved for sending Quinn into the magical virtual reality system was cleared of the VR equipment. In its place lay the golden spear, with the group gathered around it.
“So?” Quinn asked. “What now?”
Everyone turned to look at Miranda, their resident expert on the arcane. The ghost seemed surprised at the sudden shift in attention but gathered herself after a few seconds.
“First, we let Taylor cast the special spells I just walked through with her. We’ll use them to identify if this is the source of the wild magic outbreak.”
“I guess that means the next move is mine,” Taylor said. She grinned. “Here goes nothing.”
Reaching out with both hands, fingers splayed out like she was ready to palm a basketball, Taylor began chanting.
The words coming from her friend were unfamiliar to Quinn. The strange language had a lilting quality to it so that the words sounded like a song.
Taylor’s hands started moving in a sort of choreographed dance with her words. Quinn remembered she could see at least some of what her friend was doing. Enabling her arcane sight ability, the visible spectrum took on a new look, its usually crisp outlines now hazy. Everything had an aura around it, each with different colors related to the amount of magical energy contained within it.
Taylor’s body emanated a purple glow, with ribbons and threads of multicolored energy flowing from her hands to the air about a foot above the golden spear. The others in the room also had auras now.
Clark and Naomi had bright white nimbuses surrounding them. Naomi’s was different from Clark’s since dark patches morphed through her aura. It was as if the darkness were trying to dampen the light energy emanating from within her. Quinn wondered if that was the death energy of her vampire self warring with the dominant Hunter powers she’d retained after her transformation.
Miranda’s ghostly outline also had faint purple energy around it. It was similar to Taylor’s energy signature, though not anywhere near as bright as the living magic Quinn’s best friend displayed.
A sudden increase in the volume of Taylor’s chants drew Quinn’s attention back to the spell and the spear. The tech witch’s voice strained to maintain the increased volume as she continued the sing-song progression of words to bolster her magic. The ribbons of energy flowed from her hands, but now the magical power flowed closer to the spear. It closed to about an inch away and stopped as if the twisted ribbons and strands had hit a glass barrier.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked.
Miranda drifted closer to Taylor. “Keep going. The magic infused into the spear is resisting your spell. Keep pushing. No simple inanimate object should be able to hold off a divination spell like this.”
Taylor moved her hands lower and increased the pace of the chant. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, and the strain of the casting was evident in every tensed muscle of her rigid form.
Something was wrong. Quinn called, “T, stop. We can do this another way.”
Taylor pressed her trembling arms downward until her hands hovered a few inches above the spear. The space between her hands and the spear pulsed with light from the compressed flows. There was still space between the spear and the surrounding magic, though.
Taylor’s chanting increased in speed and volume, her voice a continuous groan now. She stared down, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Stop her, Miranda. Tell her,” Quinn pleaded.
“Quinn’s right, Taylor,” the ghost said. “Release the spell. This isn’t working.”
Taylor kept going.
“She can’t hear us,” Naomi said. “It’s like the spell has taken over.”
“No,” Clark said. “Not the spell. The spear.”
Quinn reached out to grab Taylor’s shoulders, but her hands never reached her friend.
Taylor turned her face to Quinn, the chant continuing. Her eyes locked on the Huntress. A flare of light, this one blinding and golden, flashed from her irises, and a wall of force hit Quinn.
The energy caused her to stumble back several steps, and she nearly fell to the floor. Clark and Naomi moved close to reach out for Taylor, too.
Again, Taylor’s eyes flashed as she turned her gaze on the new intruders. The flash was even more powerful this time.
Clark and Naomi flew backward, blasted away from the table to slam into the wall on the opposite side of the room.
Quinn recovered her balance and searched for a solution. Taylor’s hands still hovered over the spear, energy clearly flowing from the spear into her now. Quinn feared what would happen if Taylor didn’t stop the spell.
Miranda shouted at Taylor, her ghostly face an inch from the tech witch’s, imploring her to let go and stop the spell. The tech witch ignored the ghost’s pleas.
After popping up her HUD, Quinn stared at the icons lining the borders, searching for some ability that might offer a solution. Her eyes kept coming back to the two green and blue bars at the top. The green bar was her stamina, her personal energy stores.
The blue bar was newer. It represented something called mana and was a measure of magical energy. She’d only used it once when she transferred power from the spear to heal Avery. Could it be used here?
Reaching out to the mana bar the same way she did when drawing on her stamina, Quinn siphoned off power and drained the bar until it only had fifty percent remaining. Her whole body tingled now from holding onto the magical force without releasing it in some way.
She still had her arcane sight enabled. A glance at her hands showed a deep blue glow outlining her fingers. Energized by the power, Quinn sensed she had to do something soon, or the energy from her mana stores would dissipate on its own. She could feel it leeching away.
Making a decision, Quinn raced forward and poured every ounce of the drawn power into her outstretched hands as her fingers closed around the butt of the spear. Ignoring the jolt like an electric shock, she yanked it off the table.
As soon as she did, all the power Taylor had built up around it erupted in a backlash that flung the short blonde across the room to crash into a pile of empty metal beer kegs. They flew out like pins struck by a bowling ball. Taylor landed in a crumpled heap on the floor amid the tumbling barrels.
In Quinn’s hands, the spear bucked and tugged as if it were alive. She struggled to maintain her hold, discovering she could only do so by drawing off more mana and channeling it into her hands. It was like she wore gloves made of magic fibers that insulated her from the spear’s magic.
Realizing it was a losing battle, and that her mana would soon run out, Quinn seized on a desperate idea. She spun in place, gripping the shaft in the center and raised the spear to her shoulder, then flung it at the stone wall by the door.
The weapon flew from her hands, traveling with more energy than her muscles could have provided, gold sparks flaring from it. The spearhead struck the stone wall. Instead of bending or deflecting away from the stone, it embedded deep into the rock. All but an inch of the golden metal sank in
to the wall.
A few remaining sparks played up and down the shaft for a few seconds, then it settled to stillness, the energy dissipating into the air. Quinn released the rest of the mana she’d drawn from her reserves and forced her tense muscles to relax.
Then she remembered Taylor. Quinn rushed to her friend’s body on the floor. A muffled groan from the girl sent a wave of relief through the Huntress.
Quinn rolled her friend onto her back.
Taylor’s eyes met Quinn’s, and she smiled with a slightly crazed expression on her face. “That was a rush.”
“What?” Quinn asked, her voice rising in pitch and volume. “I thought you were dead. You weren’t listening. Why wouldn’t you stop?”
Taylor sat up and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away sweat. “I guess I couldn’t. I mean, I could hear you, sort of, but my body wasn’t listening to my mind anymore. It was like the spell took over control.”
Miranda floated over. “Wild magic from the spear; that has to be it. This time the flare-up made Taylor’s magic go haywire.”
Taylor shook her head. “I don’t think so, at least not completely.”
“What do you mean?” Naomi asked. She and Clark had recovered from being thrown across the room. They clustered with Quinn and Miranda around Taylor lying on the floor.
“I could sense the wild magic. It resisted my attempts to touch it. It wasn’t coming from the spear. It felt like it was a layer on top of the spear’s magic.”
“I don’t understand, T,” Quinn said. “If the wild magic wasn’t coming from the spear, where was it coming from?”
Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. Something the spear had been in contact with, maybe?”
Clark offered, “I wonder if the wild magic came from the Crystal Well? It’s possible the spear soaked up some of it while it hung there all those years.”
“That’s a thought,” Naomi said. “Quinn, you talked to the guardian before he died. You were there longer than any of us. Did he say anything about wild magic?”
