A Green Magic

by Alix Hadden

  He stopped. Other mages. Other London mages. Going and poking at the ground wasn't the only way to find out what was going on with this whole leylines business. If it really was a thing, then maybe someone else would have heard something about it already. Or there might be some history or other about it -- something, anything, that Kir could grab hold of and use to make this make some kind of sense. Which it was not making much of right at the moment.

  And Matt -- Matt was a historian, both by his daytime profession, and in terms of his magery. He was always coming up with tidbits about where mages used to hang out in the seventeenth century, and what regular historical events might be associated with them, and even more recent stuff like his ongoing project of listing everywhere mages had lived in London over the last century.

  Hey mate, he texted. Any chance you might be free for a chat today? Sorry, I know it's short notice, but stuff's been happening.

  Matt texted back surprisingly fast.

  Sure. I'm busy for lunch and this evening, but could nip out for a coffee this afternoon if you can make it up here?

  He texted back a thumbs-up, and looked at the clock. Damn. Only eleven, and the most reasonable interpretation of "this afternoon" was going to be around three or four. He needed to do something between now and then, and he was glumly certain that he was going to have trouble focussing on anything right now.

  He would go climbing, Kir decided, and hope that a bit of physical exercise that didn't involve being in immediate terror of his life would improve his focus a bit, and he could get a bit of work done before heading off to North London to chat about leylines and other such nonsense.

  He told himself that the very slight possibility of seeing Zach there at the climbing wall had nothing to do with it.

  Zach wasn't there. Of course he wasn't. Zach had a regular-issue job, of the sort that expected you to keep roughly regular hours, and it wasn't even proper lunchtime for most people, and also most people didn't skive off the way Kir seemed to be doing at the moment. Which, he was faintly aware, wasn't actually all that like him either. He had a routine, normally. Yes, he spent a lot of time climbing, but he also spent a lot of time working, and he never missed a deadline, and he never got distracted. All things which he'd been doing a lot of, lately. Apart from missing deadlines, but the next one was coming up rather faster than he liked, and he was painfully aware he was off-schedule.

  So. It was probably for the best that Zach wasn't there, because whatever happened, whatever they might have said to one another, or not said at all, it would have been distracting.

  Nearly as distracting as the fucking terrible climbing session he had. However much he might tell himself that bad days happen, that making it to the climbing wall (or out to the rock, and wow did he miss climbing out on actual rock) was the important thing, the truth was that climbing badly was bloody annoying.

  "Not your day, mate," one of the regulars commented sympathetically as Kir fell going for a move that any other day he would have made without any thought at all.

  "No," Kir agreed, and shut his mouth on any other response.

  In the end he gave up only half an hour in. At this rate he was going to injure himself long before he managed to turn a terrible session into something even approximating okay. No point in staying. Might as well go and address himself to the damn deadline project.

  Slightly to his surprise, once he got back home and brewed some more coffee, even stronger this time, that worked. When his three o'clock alarm went off, it took him a moment to remember. Matt. Leylines. Time to go.

  When he reached the cafe Matt wasn't there yet. Kir checked his watch -- bang on time -- and shrugged. Maybe something had held Matt up. Ten minutes later, though, he was beginning to get irritated. He pulled his phone out and was halfway through writing a text when Matt came through the door, looking apologetic.

  "Hey Kir. Sorry about that. Something came up."

  "Not to worry," Kir said, although in all honesty, 'something came up' didn't feel to him like much of an excuse. Still. He wanted help from Matt, and it wouldn't do to get into a row about ten minutes here or there.

  "Can I get you anything?" Matt was asking, and Kir shook his head, gesturing at his coffee. Which he probably shouldn't have had, given that he was already on about double what he normally drank in a day, but hey, it was a stressful time right now. And obviously screwing up his sleep cycle entirely would help no end with that. He scowled at the mug and knocked back another slug of it.

  "So," Matt said, once he was back with a drink of his own. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about, too, as it happens. You remember what I said about my encounter with Priya, before?"

  Kir blinked at him, blindsided. "Um. Yes?"

  "So, I've been thinking about it, and I really am concerned about how she's been approaching things. I don't think it's appropriate for one person to see themselves as in a position to judge the rest of us."

  He seemed to be waiting for Kir to say something. "No?" Kir hazarded.

  Matt nodded. "Exactly. So I intend to call a meeting and ask Priya to answer a formal challenge."

  Challenge always made Kir think of duels and so on, but he'd seen a couple by now, and knew that it was more along the lines of a particularly annoyed sort of committee meeting.

  "I asked Jean if she would be prepared to support me in bringing the challenge," Matt continued, "but she hasn't responded."

  "You know she doesn't do modern tech, right?" Kir asked.

  Matt frowned at him. "I asked her in person, and she said she'd write to me once she'd considered it. But I haven't heard from her."

  Jean, Kir strongly suspected, had decided that she couldn't be bothered. He had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming next.

  "So would you do it?"

  Yes, there it was.

  "Uh," Kir said. "Matt, I'm really not sure -- I mean," he winced internally, "it did sound like you'd got yourself into a bit of a situation, when you called her."

  "Everyone makes mistakes! There's no reason for a fellow mage to be unpleasant about it!"

  "Yeah, sure, but..." Kir trailed off, biting his lip. "Are you really sure you want to do this?"

  "I think it needs to be done," Matt said.

  Kir wasn't at all keen -- but on the other hand, the whole point of the formal challenge system was to bring this sort of thing out in the open, rather than letting it fester. If Matt wasn't prepared to just let it go, then perhaps it was better to support him in bringing the challenge, so that Priya could defend herself in public. Kir had a horrible suspicion that this wasn't going to go the way that Matt thought it would, but it wasn't like Matt seemed about to listen to him on the matter.

  "Okay then. Sure. I've got to say, mate, I'm not wholly convinced, but I'll support you in bringing the challenge and then everyone can work it out together. Okay?"

  "Thank you," Matt said. "I appreciate that. I'll put it in, and then I'll let you know what happens next."

  "Okay," Kir said again, not entirely happily. Things were always better out in the open, though, right?

  "Now," Matt said briskly. "Something's been happening, you said?"

  "Yeah," Kir said, realising that he hadn't really thought through how to explain this. "Well. You remember what we talked about the other day?"

  "Your weird rubbish-emanation, yes. Still haven't seen anything of the sort up here, I'm afraid."

  "No, it seems pretty localised. But it's happened again. Ali got pretty badly hurt yesterday. We found out what happens if you touch them." Kir grimaced, feeling the responsibility of that all over again. His fault. "Bit like an acid burn or something. Really nasty."

  "Oh crap," Matt said. "Is she okay? Does she need medical help?"

  "We got her seen at Casualty yesterday evening," Kir said. "But then, right, this is the weird bit. I took her back to her flat, and we were chatting with her flatmate -- who isn't a mage, obviously," or Matt would know her, "and she had all this stuff about leylin
es. She gets interests, you know? And this is the current one. So, I thought it was bullshit, but then I took a look at the maps Heather had, and the leylines she'd drawn go straight through all the places where we've encountered these things."

  Matt's eyebrows had gone up, but he wasn't saying anything.

  "So I wondered -- you're a historian. If leylines were a real thing, surely there'd be something in the historical record about them, right?"

  Matt was frowning slightly, but shrugged dismissively. "Leylines? Really? I mean, doesn't it sound more like a form of ground magic -- death magic, maybe."

  "Well, I was wondering if leylines might not be some sort of stand-in for ground magic. But death magic, no, we got Jean to come and check that, and she says there's nothing."

  "I've never heard of any history of power associated with leylines," Matt said, shaking his head, and Kir sagged slightly.

  "Nothing? Not any weird references to power flows or anything?"

  Matt shrugged. "Not a scrap. Me not having seen it doesn't mean it's not there, you understand."

  "Sure, but...you know stuff!"

  Matt laughed. "You flatter me. But leylines I only know about as the sort of cod-magic that mundanes engage in from time to time."

  "Like Heather," Kir said, a bit gloomily. He leant back on his chair. "I've got to say, I was kind of hoping you'd be able to come up with something, some myth or other about power from the ground. Because you're right, this feels very much like ground-magic, the way it appears and acts. But I don't know anything directly about ground magic."

  "I don't know much," Matt said. "Only that it was popular during the Victorian era, and then we moved into using plants instead. I do wonder whether it was less stable, or something like that -- the Victorians did seem more prone to magical accidents, things like that."

  "Well, these things don't feel all that stable," Kir said. "Are you saying that plants are stable, then?"

  "It's a mediating factor," Matt said. "They get power from the earth, we get it through them."

  "Earth again. So these things could be using earth power directly, or something." Kir frowned. "The Victorians did use it directly? How?"

  "Maybe," Matt said. "Hard to be sure. I've seen references to case-books and that kind of thing, but I've never actually found one." He looked down at his fingers, sounding slightly frustrated. "All I've ever got hold of is vague references, nothing you could use to replicate it."

  Kir bit his lip. "Okay. I suppose I was wondering if the leylines could act as a mediator, or...I dunno. The idea of the earth sending these things up all by itself, with or without a leyline mediation, seems pretty absurd, right?" And a bit scary, come to that.

  Matt smiled, a little lop-sidedly, and met Kir's eyes for a second before he looked away. "Isn't that exactly what happens in spring every year? Have you ever seen timelapse footage of ivy?"

  Kir blinked at him. "No?"

  "Well. Never mind. The earth has a great deal of power, that's all."

  "But it can't direct it," Kir said. "So even if someone had, somehow, come across this without any of us picking them up, I'm still looking for, well, an actual someone. Which I suppose would make the whole leylines thing just coincidence."

  "As far as I know," Matt agreed. "I've certainly not come across anything in my readings." He drained his tea. "It's been good to see you, Kir, but I have to go -- I've got another meeting later. I'll be in touch about the challenge."

  He stood up, nodded at Kir, and was out of the cafe almost before Kir could say goodbye. Or ask him for practical help, which he'd been considering. Ali was going to be struggling a bit for the next few days, after all; it would have been handy to have someone else to help out. Still. Probably Matt was busy.

  Kir stared at the door, still swinging slightly. It was a bit out of character, though. He didn't usually cut things quite that short. Kir had kind of expected to be in here for a while, maybe even arrange to have a beer later. But -- well, Kir had deadlines, and doubtless Matt had work stuff to do too. He had been late, after all. And all this challenge stuff, he definitely had a bee in his bonnet there. It was probably just that.

  He finished his own drink more slowly, chewing thoughtfully on a fingernail between sips. Okay, Matt had dismissed the idea of leylines. But did the fact that Matt hadn't seen any evidence of it necessarily mean that it definitely didn't exist? Matt was a historian, sure, and he had experience of mage history in particular, but he didn't know everything.

  It might still be worth checking out what was on Heather's map, once Ali was back on her feet. Which he sincerely hoped would be really soon. He was not at all comfortable just leaving this alone.

  Somewhat to Kir's aggravation, Ali didn't reply to any of his texts that evening. The next morning, he delayed only long enough to be moderately certain that she would at least be awake, if not up, and took himself round to the flat.

  Heather was on the doorstep when he arrived, juggling keys and a plethora of plastic carrier bags, and clearly on her way out.

  "Kir! You round for Ali? Shall I just let you in?"

  Kir did have a spare key to Ali's flat, but they had an agreement that he would only use it in times of crisis. Which this wasn't -- yet.

  "Let me in down here," he said. "I'm assuming she's okay to get off the sofa upstairs?"

  "I probably left it on the latch anyway," Heather said, leaning in to talk confidentially. "I almost always do. They keep giving me into trouble for it."

  One of her carrier bags fell to the floor, and once Kir had done helping her pick its contents up -- a box of sandwiches and several issues of what looked like paranormal-themed DIY zines -- he escaped inside and up the two flights of stairs to the flat.

  Heather had been entirely correct -- she had indeed left the door on the latch. Kir opened it a crack.

  "Ali? You there?"

  "Oh for fuck's sake. Fine, come in."

  Ali was ensconced on the sofa with her foot up, watching daytime TV.

  "I'm on sick leave," she said. "I'm not going wandering round south London looking for imaginary lines."

  "Matt said he didn't know anything about them either," Kir said, sitting down on the armchair. "But -- well, I thought, he doesn't necessarily know everything, right? I mean, I thought, if they were a thing, then surely at some point there would have been some kind of magical belief in them, not just regular people believing it."

  "But Matt says there isn't."

  "He said he didn't know of any," Kir corrected. "But -- I dunno. He didn't seem to be taking it all that seriously, in honesty." He frowned unseeing at the TV. "He was a bit odd, now I come to think about it."

  "I am definitely up for taking it seriously," Ali said. "I really believe in the seriousness." She waved her damaged arm at him. "And it is particularly frustrating to not be able to use any kind of magery while I'm stuck on the sofa and there's no one else in the flat. Which reminds me -- could you put the kettle on?"

  Kir rolled his eyes and got up to make tea.

  "So," he said, from the kitchen. "You believe it's serious, and you think we ought to try and fix it."

  "But that doesn't mean I want to go look at leylines," Ali said, but her tone lacked conviction.

  "I just really want to look at the place where the lines meet," Kir said.

  Ali sighed. "I got Heather to leave her maps out on the table."

  Kir handed Ali her tea, and went over to the table to spread the maps out.

  "Look. This point here. Where they meet. Can we just go and look at that?"

  "Why can't you go on your own?" Ali whined. "What if Litsa sees me?"

  "I'll think of something," Kir promised. "You can definitely blame it entirely on me. Anyway, the fact that you can't stand up for an eight hour shift in the shop doesn't mean you can't go for a little walk past a -- whatever it turns out to be -- with me to make sure you don't fall over. Right?"

  "I suppose so," Ali said, grumpily. "But we're getting a bloody taxi, okay?
"

  Ali insisted on drinking her tea first, but after that, she made her way slightly awkwardly down the stairs -- "Kir, get out of the way, you are not helping, you are hindering" -- and sat on the wall by the bus stop while Kir phoned a cab.

  "Here," he said, ten minutes later. "Other side of the road, if you can."

  The minicab driver screeched across two lanes of traffic -- Ali shut her eyes -- and delivered them outside a set of blue plywood hoardings. Ali and Kir stared at the anodyne artist's impression of life in what was clearly going to be yet another moderately ugly office block with no redeeming greenery at all.

  "This is it?" Ali asked, dubiously.

  "This is where the lines cross," Kir said.

  "Let me check." Ali demanded the map, and tucked her crutch under her armpit to lean on while she looked at the map and muttered to herself. "It's not the other side of the road, right?"

  "That's north," Kir said, with certitude. He could feel north, when he concentrated.

  "It's so weird you can do that," Ali said. "Oh. Does it count as magery? Should you be doing it?"

  "Well, I've always been able to," Kir said. "And I don't do it deliberately. So if it was going to be a problem it already would have been one." He hoped.

  "Right. Well then. Yes, it's here."

  "A big hole in the ground," Kir said.

  Ali bit her lip. "I've gotta say -- if leylines were a thing, then digging a big hole in the ground right where two of them cross, I can see how that might not work out all that well." She gestured a little awkwardly with her bandaged arm. "Disturbing -- stuff. Whatever stuff is."

  "Mystical energy," Kir said, straight-faced.

  "Shut up. You're the one who wanted to come and investigate this. Don't start taking the piss now, or I'll hit you with my crutch."

  "Then you'll fall over," Kir pointed out.

  "I'll find a way," Ali said darkly. "Well. Since we're here, shall we have a walk round it?"