A Green Magic

by Alix Hadden

  Zach was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, and he had a geometric tattoo, in black and white, spiralling down one arm. Kir fought back an intense urge to run his fingers down it, feel the tiny bumps that tattoos made on the skin. His fingertips tingled.

  "Better than a bus," Zach said, sounding heartfelt. Kir pulled his mind back to the conversation. Bikes, yes, that was it. "You get a nice breeze when you're on the move, at least. Please tell me the climbing wall's air conditioned, yeah?"

  Kir grinned. "Yes. Though you're going to get pretty hot anyway, if you're putting any effort in."

  "That where you've just been?" Zach asked. "Putting some effort in?"

  He quirked an eyebrow, and for just a moment, Kir thought his eyes might be flicking across Kir's vest, across Kir's chest. Kir swallowed. He was probably imagining it. Even if Zach was flirting with him, he wasn't going to do anything about it. He was going home to have a shower, and talk to Liz or whatever her name was on Skype, and do some work.

  "Um. Yeah. Went pretty well, but it's definitely hot."

  Zach smiled, that same wide smile that Kir had seen the first time he saw Zach, the one that tipped him from 'not bad' directly into 'definitely cute'. "Oh, cool. Shame I missed you there, then. I could use some more pointers, and you looked like you knew what you were doing last time." He pulled a face. "It was good fun, but wow did I ache afterwards."

  Zach's blue-green eyes were looking straight into Kir's, open and welcoming. Were his pupils just a little wide, on this bright summer day?

  "Yeah, sorry I missed you," Kir said. "Got a meeting to go to, though."

  "Right you are," he said. Did his smile dim, just a fraction? "I'd better let you get on, then."

  "Um. Yeah. Enjoy your climb." Kir nodded his farewell, feeling oddly disappointed, and carried on down the road.

  He'd only gone a few steps when he realised that he could have suggested some other time to meet up. That Zach had suggested something, more or less, and Kir had turned him down -- and for work, at that, sure, it wasn't like he could skip it, but it wasn't something to be enthusiastic about -- and not made any attempt at all to say anything else about it.

  He was an idiot.

  No. He wasn't. He didn't want to meet up with Zach. He was happy being celibate, that was what he kept telling Ali, and it was true, dammit. He didn't have to pant after every cute person who came along.

  But he could be friendly, couldn't he? Just friendly. Help a newbie out a bit. He could have offered to meet up some other time. His steps slowed slightly. He could still go back, could fix it...but he'd look daft, wouldn't he, running back after Zach?

  He gave in to the impulse to look back over his shoulder -- and caught Zach, looking back over his. He turned back round again, and could feel the blush rising up his cheekbones, which was just absurd. He was thirty. He was a grown man. He wasn't supposed to blush.

  He could go back now, arrange something...he glanced down at the phone in his hand, and swore. The notifications screen said his bus was nearly here, and if he missed this one he wouldn't be home in time for the call, and dammit. There wasn't anything he could do about it right now.

  Which was for the best, right?

  Right.

  They'd run into each other, or they wouldn't. It didn't matter, right?

  Dammit.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket just as he disconnected the Skype call. Which had been about as frustrating as usual, but he thought he'd done a reasonable job of managing expectations. It had run a bit short, too, and he glanced at the time, wondering whether he could possibly justify going back to the wall. He'd already been once today. He never went twice, and Zach would surely be done by now, and he couldn't quite believe that he even was thinking about this. He shook his head, annoyed at his own idiocy, then pulled his phone out and frowned at Ali's name on the screen. She was working today. She never called when she was at work.

  "Kir?" Ali sounded -- she sounded like she had the last time, voice unnaturally high, an edge of panic in it. "How bloody long does it take you to answer the damn phone?"

  "Ali? What's wrong?"

  "I'm in the cafe. In the basement. You have to come right now."

  "Another one? Shit. Shit. Okay. I'm on my way."

  Another one? What in the hell was going on? And in the cafe, with all those people...Ali had said the basement, though, so there was Ali and a flight of stairs between whatever it was and the customers. And at least the cafe was closer than Peckham. Getting there wouldn't take long.

  Kir yanked his shoes on, grabbed his keys, and took the stairs down from the flat two at a time. He ran up towards the main road, eyes peeled for a cab. Again. Why did this keep happening?

  Kir paid off the taxi and then jumped out in front of the coffee shop. Through the plate-glass window under the sign THE BREW, prospective customers could see a mish-mash of slightly battered sofas, chairs, and tables, and the cluttered counter at the back. At this time of day, it wasn't hugely busy; but Kir hesitated outside the door. None of Ali's colleagues knew anything about magery, although they all knew him as Ali's friend, who occasionally brought his laptop to work there. He could hardly just barge in and go down to the basement; whoever was behind the counter would be bound to want to know what was going on, or to follow him down there, or both. At that, surely Ali had been down there long enough to draw attention, unless it was usual for people to use stock-checking or whatever as an excuse for a bit of time out.

  Anyway. He needed another way to get in. The shop was in the middle of a terrace, but there must be some kind of yard out back, with a back door. He just needed to get around to it.

  And as quickly as possible, given how Ali had sounded and that he had no idea what was going on.

  Kir jogged along the row of shops and found a footpath under an archway a couple of shops along from The Brew, that led to the estate behind the row. Out the back of that, each shop had its own microscopic yard, each fenced off by a fence or wall, in various states of repair. Sod's law being what it was, when Kir counted back along the row, the coffee shop had a nice tall brick wall and a robust gate. Which was locked.

  But then, he had a way around that.

  The lock was metal, which meant he couldn't work with it directly. But he'd learnt to pick a lock the manual way, a while back, and this wasn't a difficult lock to pick, if you had the tools. Which he didn't; but he could improvise. There was grass growing around the edges of the wall that the door was set into; that would help. He bent down and nipped off a couple of blades of grass, wrapping them around his fingers, and then resting two fingers gently on the lock. He could feel the link between the grass at his feet and the grass he was holding, the fuzz of power around the plant, and he pulled it out and in towards him, gently, delicately, and fed it into the lock. He could feel the life, the power, spooling out of the blades of grass he'd pulled, spiralling into the lock and wrapping around the tumblers. There was a metallic click, and the gate swung very slightly inwards. Kir let go of the power that surrounded the grass that was still in the ground. The blades of grass wrapped around his fingers were withered now, and he gently unwound them again, and bent down to tuck them at the base of the plant they'd come from, to feed back into the soil. Then he stood up, and pushed the gate open.

  He latched it as best he could once he was inside the yard. He didn't need anyone wandering past and inviting themself in. Tubs of what he was fairly sure were used coffee grounds were stacked against the fence on each side of the yard, and the back door into the cafe stood very slightly ajar. Kir crossed the yard in a few long strides, ducked inside the door, and paused again. Straight in front of him there was a short passage which gave out onto the counter; he could see the back of one of Ali's colleagues, serving someone. He quickly stepped sideways, out of view of the customer. The last thing he needed was for someone to raise the alarm that there was someone breaking into the back. To his left, on the other side of the passageway, was a cupboard-size toilet and sink, with
several Health and Safety notices about hand-washing on its door. To his right, shelves lined the passageway that he was in himself, and then -- yes, a door at the end, with stairs leading downwards. The basement. And, now he listened, he could hear a muffled thumping coming from down there.

  He took the battered wooden stairs two at a time, then pulled up short at the bottom. Ali was across the other side of the room, perched on a chair, and waving a broom in front of her. As he watched, she leant over and swept the broom across the floor, poking vindictively at a mess of smashed mugs and coffee grounds.

  "Ali?"

  "Kir! You're a star. But I got a handle on it, just in time."

  He felt, for a moment, absolutely livid. He'd belted all the way over here, panicking all the way, broken into the back of the bloody shop, and for what? To get here and find that Ali was absolutely fine.

  Then he took a deep breath, and tried to let it go. Ali hadn't done it deliberately. She'd pretty clearly been worried enough when she called. The fact that she'd found a solution herself between then and now was a good thing, not a bad one. What did he expect, for her to given up and to be cowering in the corner waiting for him?

  It definitely wasn't worth going back to the climbing wall now. Not that he had seriously been thinking about that. And anyway he could hardly just run away like the proverbial scalded cat without explaining it to Ali. It wouldn't work, and it had been a stupid idea in the first place, and why had Ali even called him if she was going to sort it out herself?

  His jaw was clenched tight. He told himself that it was just the aftermath of the stress reaction.

  Ali straightened up, propped the broom against one of the shelves, and jumped down onto the floor, avoiding the heap of china and coffee.

  "Thank you," she said. "Honestly, when I phoned I was proper panicking."

  "What did you manage to do?" Kir asked.

  "Pulled the power out of the coffee." She pulled a face. "Dead already. Not the easiest thing I've done in a while. Took a few goes to work. It'd failed twice, I think, maybe three times when I called you?"

  Kir noticed that her left hand was clenched. He nodded at it. "What's up with your hand?"

  "Oh," she said, a little too brightly. "Just a cut."

  Kir's eyes widened. "Ali, you didn't..." You could use blood to catalyse a difficult spell, right enough, and it wasn't exactly forbidden, not entirely, but everyone knew it was a bad idea.

  "Not on purpose!" Ali denied, hotly. "One of those bits of mug, it swiped at me. They've got sharp edges. Anyway, when I realised I was bleeding anyway..." She looked away. "No point in wasting it, right?"

  Kir grimaced. Sure, he could see what she meant, except...

  "It's -- you know it's not a good idea, though."

  "Yes, well, I didn't think that getting ripped apart by broken mugs held together with sodding coffee was a good idea either," Ali snapped. "Forgive me for using what was to hand. Back off, Kir. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, you know."

  Kir winced. "Sorry."

  "You and your over-developed sense of responsibility." Ali sounded slightly less annoyed now, though. She grabbed the broom and shoved it at him; startled, Kir's fingers closed around it. "Now you're finally here, you might as well make some use of yourself and help me clear up."

  That 'finally' hurt a bit; but second-guessing Ali and going all moralistic on her hadn't exactly been the friendliest and most considerate thing he could have said. And she was right; he did tend to take too much on himself. Ali was if anything more competent than him. He just -- worried, sometimes.

  "I came as fast as I could," Kir said mildly, starting to sweep fragments of china dust from under the shelves. Bits had scattered quite a long way from the central pile. I came as fast as I could, and turns out I could have come a bit slower or even not at all. As it happens.

  "Where were you?" Ali asked, grabbing a dustpan and brush, and crouching down to brush up the sweepings Kir was corralling.

  "Just finished a Skype meeting," Kir said., then, without meaning to, added, "I was thinking of heading down to the climbing wall." Except he hadn't been thinking that, because that would have been stupid. His jaw was tight again.

  "You've been down there a lot lately," Ali said, without looking up. "You on some kind of healthy living kick?"

  Kir could feel his face flush, and was grateful Ali wasn't looking. "Not that much more than usual, I didn't think." He tried to keep his own voice offhand. "But yeah, maybe, I guess. There's some interesting problems right now. And I'm kind of fed up with work."

  "Not chasing that newbie, then?"

  "Ha. No." Kir hoped like hell that his voice was convincing.

  Apparently it was, because Ali didn't say anything more about the subject, beyond, "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be remotely surprised that you wouldn't go chasing someone, however promising they might seem."

  They worked in silence for a couple more minutes.

  "So, what happened?" Kir asked. "You smashed the mugs, or something?"

  Ali dumped the contents of the dustpan into a nearby plastic tub, and started scooping up more. "No. That was the -- whatever it was."

  "It smashed mugs?"

  "I spilt some pre-ground coffee, right, and I was trying to clear it up. Then I turned round and -- it was like a wave or something, Kir, I dunno. Like a tidal wave. But coffee, coffee grounds, not water. Well, obviously, if it was the same as last time, water wouldn't have worked, would it." She paused. "God, thank fuck the beans are in the other room. That would have been even more expensive. And harder to explain than broken mugs. Anyway. It jumped up and swiped at me, and I only just got out of the way in time. So instead of hitting me, it hit the shelf full of mugs, and obviously a bunch of them fell and smashed. And the thing just picked them up and came at me again. I kept beating it back with the broom."

  "Just like that thing in the alleyway," Kir said slowly.

  "Yeah. Just like that, but with different stuff."

  Kir stopped sweeping and leant on the broom. "This isn't normal."

  "You're telling me? No kidding it isn't normal." Ali dumped the dustpan out again and sat back on her heels. "A once-off, yeah, fine, shit happens. Twice? In a week?"

  "Something's going on," Kir said. "I thought it was three times for a conspiracy."

  "Wash your damn mouth out," Ali said. "I don't want to see a third one of those. Look, when was the last time we had to handle anything weird?"

  Kir thought back. "Last year?"

  "What, when you turned blue? That was your own fault, trying things out without knowing what they were doing."

  "I was thinking about the whippor'wil in the sewers," Kir said with dignity.

  "Yeah. And that -- that's a real thing, right? They're not that common, but we know about them. This is -- I've never heard of anything like this before."

  "I hate to say this, Ali," Kir said, "but...you're the common link."

  Ali grimaced. "Yeah, I thought of that myself. I honestly can't think of anything out of the ordinary I've done, though. Do I feel weird?"

  Kir shook his head, feeling around her aura again just to be sure. "Same old."

  "It's not the area -- well, it's not super-local, anyway. I guess it could be just our patch of London."

  "Which would point to you again," Kir said.

  "Honestly, if it's me, I have no idea why," Ali said. She was beginning to sound a bit shaky. No wonder. She must be feeling an adrenalin come-down right now just from facing that thing, never mind the cost of the magic.

  "No one you know of that's mad at you?" Kir asked.

  "Shit, you think this could be deliberate?"

  Kir shrugged. "It's possible, right?"

  "It would have to be someone with magical knowledge, and someone pretty damn nasty," Ali said. "To be honest, I can't really think of anyone that fits the bill. I'm not saying I like every mage I know, exactly, but I wouldn't call any of them nasty. And I'm pretty sure I haven't offended anyone
beyond bearing recently. I hope."

  The floor was mostly clean now, but Kir spotted a pile of coffee grounds that seemed to have been swept into the corner, behind the shelf.

  "Give me the dustpan, and I can get that bit," he said.

  Ali followed the direction of his gaze, and started talking fast. "No, it's fine, I'll sort that out later. I've been down here long enough now, Patience is going to start worrying."

  "Ali? Is everything okay?"

  "Well, no," Ali said. "Obviously. I'm knackered, I cut my hand, and I've just broken two shelves of mugs for no admissible reason. I guess I'll have to tell Patience I just dropped them all, and isn't she going to be thrilled?" She ran her hands into her hair. "How much do those things go for, wholesale, anyway? Christ, if she docks my wages..."

  "It was an accident," Kir said. "She'll understand. Even if she doesn't know the nature of the accident."

  "Can but hope," Ali said. "Come on, you, clear out. You've still got time to go climbing, no, if you want to?"

  Kit shook his head. "Getting busy by now. Don't worry about it. I was wondering, do you think we should ask around a bit, about this stuff?" He gestured around as he started towards the stairs.

  "Locally?"

  "No, other mages. I can go talk to Matt, see if he's seen anything up north."

  "I'm due a catch-up with Priya anyway," Ali said. She'd been looking over at that corner again, but now she shook her head just a little and caught up with Kir. "I can ask her about the west."

  "At least then we'll have a bit more information. Maybe there's something weird in the air and it's affecting all of us. If they haven't got anything, shall we ask for help anyway?"

  Ali paused, then shook her head. "Not just yet. I don't want Matt and Priya stomping all over our patch unless we really need it. We haven't looked that hard for any clues yet, right?"