by Martha Carr
Lucius moved around the room feeling solid ground underneath his feet. He flexed his muscles, feeling the air on his skin. “Been far too long.”
His veins pulsed black under his mottled pale skin, cursed a long time ago with powerful dark magic. It took some time, a few hundred years, but eventually he grew patient and learned how to bend all the darkness trapped in the world in between to his will. Draw it to him. Capture it and suck it dry to make it his own.
Turned out the curse had a silver lining. It possessed a magic all its own. He learned to become his own relic and even within the confines of the world in between he taught himself about the curse.
He learned how to become a shifter, turning into the beast, heightening his senses and feeling the trails of dark magic even in the world in between. He sought out the other darkness, moving more easily through the gelatinous void, eventually gaining enough power to send out energy into the world.
Lucius took a deep breath, inhaling as he lifted his chin again, focusing. The skin along his large arms rippled and the bones along his face shifted as he cried out from a familiar pain. He shook violently as his body quickly took on another form with the sound of bones cracking and reforming until a Light Elf stood in room 302 wearing full Oriceran leather battle armor, a scowl on his face.
The curse had a very dark lining to it as well. It had poisoned Lucius a long time ago until all he could see was revenge and all he felt was rage. He opened the door to the hallway and surprised a young man on the way back to his room. The man quickly slid into his room and shut the door, locking it. “South by Southwest always draws the crazies,” he whispered as he stood back from the door.
Lucius drew in enough magic to fling open the door in the room next to him. He rifled through all the belongings, pulling out clothes similar to what he saw on the street below. Somewhere in this world, Rhazdon still exists. I can feel it. The anger pulsed in his head. Nothing was close to the right size.
He went to the next room and emptied drawers searching for clothes that would fit. Most of the guests were already out for the day, seeing the sights.
At last, Lucius found a pair of jeans and a grey sweater along with a pair of worn work boots. “These will do.” He looked at his reflection and noticed his pointed ears, pulling in energy from the curse and shifting the ears into something more rounded. “That bitch is close,” he growled. “I can feel it.”
He shut his eyes, focusing on the distant trails of strong magic and was startled to feel something unexpected, again. The trail of bright energy emanating from Leira Berens that he had sensed even in the world in between. Stronger than anything he had ever seen in the living or the trapped. “A missed opportunity that will have to wait… for now.”
Lucius left behind the jumbled hotel room and headed for the stairs. Years of watching people move around the streets of Austin had taught him something about how to blend into a crowd. “Time to go hunting,” he whispered, as a thick web of inky black crept through the veins on his neck.
Turner Underwood jerked his head up from the lesson he was giving Leira, his eyes widening. His hands reflexively squeezed the silver handle of his cane.
“What is it? Your Fixer alert going off?” Leira was in the middle of practicing stepping into the middle of the light stream and back out again, learning to guide the energy more. “How do you do that? I don’t sense anything.” Leira wet a finger and held it up in the air. “There is a nice breeze coming off the lake, though.”
“Something’s not right.”
“Is there a disturbance in the force?” Leira lifted her left knee and left arm, pushing down with her right hand. “What tai chi move is this again?” Turner was using the ancient martial art to teach Leira balance and to center herself in the middle of the light. “Part the wild horse…”
“Something’s not right.”
“You said that.” Leira noticed the look on Turner’s face and dropped her arms, tilting her head to the side. “You need to go help someone? We can cut it short.”
“It’s not one of our kind. At least I don’t think so. Something is throwing off the balance.”
“You mean, besides me for once. I’m not sure how the whole Fixer thing works but can I help? Is that allowed?”
Turner cocked his head, listening to the vibrations of the different streams of energy that were always flowing by him from all the magical creatures in the world. Shimmering bands of different colors of light, flowing in all directions. Some of them smooth and glittering and flowing in straight lines. Others sputtering or tangling in small knots, surging ahead anyway.
He heard the low rumble of the dark, pulsing wave. “It’s familiar but I can’t quite place it.” His brow wrinkled and he shut his eyes, leaning on his cane as he held up a hand for Leira to be quiet.
“I know this hum.” He felt a tightness in his chest as the memories of the battle from eight hundred years ago came back to him, flooding him with memories. “It’s not possible,” he muttered.
“You’re looking a little pale even for an Elf there, Turner. What the fuck is going on?”
He blinked and opened his eyes, looking at Leira. “Just thinking of an old friend of mine.”
“Thinking about friends doesn’t usually put a look like that on my face. Rhazdon maybe…”
“Haven’t thought about him in hundreds of years.” Turner looked out over the lake, softening his gaze, still focusing on the trails of magic flowing past him. He was searching for a trace of the deep, steady stream again. “Did I ever tell you that every trail of magic is like what a fingerprint is for human beings? No two are alike. They’re uniquely shaped and leave energy trails that stretch around the world.”
“Like their own GPS, I know. I’ve noticed even human beings have some kind of version of them. I’ve used it to track killers in my old job.”
“True enough. And when you have loved ones, you become familiar with that energy flow to the point where it’s like hearing their voice. Some part of you never forgets.”
Leira stretched her arms over her head, tempted to take a run around Turner’s large estate and stretch her legs. “Has an old friend of yours come over from Oriceran? That’s good news.”
“That would be impossible. Besides, there’s something off about the trail.”
Leira stretched her arm across her chest. “Only impossible if… is your friend dead?”
“I have no idea. He disappeared during the battle against Rhazdon a very long time ago. His body was never found.” Turner scratched his forehead. There it is again. A low rumble of magic rolled by miles away pushing other energy streams out of the way. It can’t be. Turner’s eyes moved back and forth as he sent out his own stream of energy to run nearby but not close enough to get entangled. Dark magic, very dark magic.
The heavy stream flashed and sent out a surge, knocking Turner’s energy back into his body and throwing him backward, stumbling as he put out his arms to catch himself. Leira easily crossed the space between them and grabbed Turner by the arms, connecting momentarily with his energy as she felt the remnants of the surge.
“What the fuck was that?” Leira slowly removed her hands from Turner, still hearing the buzzing in her ears. “Okay, let me take back what I just said. Shit! No, I did not know what it was like to feel every trail of magic on the entire planet, all at once. Mind blown… Like some energy of life or something.”
“An interesting way to look at it and not entirely inaccurate.” Turner couldn’t sense the heavy stream anymore, but the lingering doubts were staying with him.
“What was that low undercurrent. It was like some heavy, pounding backdrop to the whole thing. Not a feel good kind of groove at all.”
“You could sense that?”
“Yeah, it never went away. I could have sworn it even looked up when I touched you. Like a stream of energy was looking back at me. Very creepy. Almost like the dark mist.” The smile dropped from Leira’s face and her jaw tensed. “What’s going
on? What do you know?”
“Not as much as I thought, apparently. More will be revealed but hopefully, we’ll see whatever it is coming.”
Chapter Two
Leira sat down at her desk across from Hagan. “Explain it to me again. Slowly this time.” Leira took a bite of the Mexican Hot Chocolate doughnut as Hagan glanced down at the familiar pink box. “Doughnut after…” She pulled the box closer to her.
“You say that like I have no self-control.” Hagan sat down and slapped his hands on his desk. “I have plenty… there’s always more doughnuts where these came from.” Hagan laced his fingers together and pursed his lips.
“You’re ruining a very good doughnut experience for me. Tell me already.” Leira put down the doughnut and brushed her hands, giving Hagan the dead fish look.
“Okay, good… Fine... Now I’m ready.” He winced, trying to find the right words. “Look, I think it’s time I hang back from the big operations.” He waved his hands around at the large open space. “Back you up from here and work on more local cases that involve fewer dark forces that can reach out and throw us around like rag dolls.” Hagan took out the white cotton handkerchief he always had at the ready in his back pocket and wiped his forehead.
Leira didn’t say anything even as her eyebrows went up. She picked up her coffee and slowly took a sip, not taking her eyes off Hagan.
“You’re dickin’ me around right now, aren’t you? Nice, Berens. Look, I’ll say it. That last battle took a little something out of me. Hell, I think I was dead for a few second there. And I have this whole thing going with Rose that I like to call a good life. Oh, for pity’s sake, Berens, say something!”
“What kind of asshat do you think I am? Like I’d say no, we started this together, we end it together? Geez, Hagan.” Leira gave him a crooked smile as she took another sip of coffee. “Of course, this means I’ll have to heckle you over an ear piece. Best part of the job.”
Hagan let out the breath he was holding and mopped his face again. “Well… that goes without saying. Hell, maybe I’ll turn out to be more use as tactical behind the scenes. You know, I was a little worried you might be…”
“That’s a long way around the barn to say I’m selfish, you know.” Leira got up from her desk and walked around to Hagan. “You put in your time, Hagan, and you’ve stood beside me at more than one battle. You get to call it when it’s enough. Good for you.”
“What’s this? Are you about to hug me? Don’t do that, Berens. Oh geez. Partners don’t hug. It’s in every manual.”
Leira stopped short and patted him on the back. “Best partner I could ever have. Thank you, Hagan. I mean it… for everything.”
“Okay, well, then… eat your doughnut.” Hagan swallowed hard and changed the subject. “Hey, you think Yumfuck would hang out here at the office occasionally.”
“If you put in cable and more snacks you have a shot.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“I don’t ask myself those kinds of questions anymore. Something about Batfuck…”
Hagan let out a snort of laughter. “Seems he’s joined the family business. Hey, I heard about the good news. A wedding… you’ll have to figure out how to throw a bridal shower. What a year you’ve had, Berens.”
“Yeah, a little bit of everything. Reconstituted an entire family, even a dad and found out my relatives didn’t come from Ireland after all. All wrapped up with a few run ins with some dark mist no one can really explain.” Leira felt the edge of something. “Mom is over the moon. I’m happy for her,” she said, distracted.
Hagan let out a small belch, patting his belly as he reached into the Voodoo doughnuts pink box. “You’re gonna have to work on the whole being happy thing. Your demeanor lacks a certain something.”
“Have the feeling I’m missing a pretty important clue. Can’t quite put my magic finger on it.”
“You will… you always do.”
Leira shook her head to clear it. “Hey, remember your motto. There’s always more. Might want to slow down just a little. You’re not retiring just yet. I’ll still need you just as much backing me up here while I’m out there chasing bogeymen.”
“Berens that’s the nicest thing you could have said to me,” said Hagan, chomping down on a Maple Old Fashioned.
Chapter Three
The young Wizard, Toby Wheeler, stood in the field in a silver reflective vest, directing the cars in the late afternoon sun with a flashlight to make sure no one headed for the deeper part of the pasture and tore up the good Kentucky grasslands.
Toby kicked a piece of sod with the toe of his sneaker, still frustrated that he was so far away from the action. “Nothing more than a glorified orange cone.” A white Volvo station wagon parked at the end of a line and a well-dressed middle-aged couple got out, ignoring Toby and heading toward the gravel road that led to the manor in the distance.
Toby held up both hands, giving them a double dose of the middle finger, dancing his hands back and forth. He eyed his wand in his pocket and slid it out, holding it lightly in his hand. “So tempting…”
Using a wand would have been easier but the possibility of prying eyes was too big, and it was impressed upon him not to break the laws. Toby was well aware of the consequences of crossing his new employers.
After all, he was the nephew of one of the oldest ruling families, making him a kind of nobility. But his mother had run away from them all as a teenager and turned her back on the lineage, choosing instead to ignore the dark magic and marry a Wizard serving the Silver Griffins. The worst kind of betrayal.
The moment Toby turned eighteen he decided to rectify that mistake and ran right back to the old families, expecting a warm embrace. Instead, he was met with wary looks and given menial assignments. Still, it was better than the future he had back home with his parents. College and then off to the cubicle life. No magic in there at all.
“Hey, kid!” An overly-muscled Wizard with a buzz cut to hide the lack of hair and wearing an ill-fitting navy-blue sport coat stood impatiently at the edge of the road gesturing to Toby with his meaty hand to follow him. He was one of the regular muscle that hung around the family at the ready when muscle was more appropriate than magic.
Toby startled and dropped his wand into the grass, scrambling to pick it up. “Damn! What an amateur. Drop my own wand.” He picked it up and wiped it off across his pants leaving a damp splotch.
He was still muttering as he slid the wand into his pocket and eagerly followed the Wizard down the path, jogging to keep up with the man. “I wasn’t… I mean… I would never use my wand. I mean, not without orders…” The words sputtered out of Toby and he could feel the sweat under his thin cotton shirt. The chill in the air of an early spring Kentucky cold front was making it worse and the vest was no protection against much of anything.
“Forget about it, kid. Not my department. Although, word to the wise. Don’t move a muscle unless someone tells you which muscle and how to use it. If you fuck up badly enough it won’t matter who you’re related to.” The Wizard tapped a thin, jagged purple scar along his chin. “I speak from experience.” He gave a smile that was angry more than anything else. “A certain kind of loyalty is expected around these parts.”
“What kind of loyalty is that?” Toby was still walking fast just to keep up with the Wizard’s long strides.
“Absolute. Keep your head down when you get in there and just listen. Think of all of this as a kind of schooling and you just might survive.”
Toby swallowed hard. Survive. That is hard core.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, as Toby did his best to regain his composure and match the stony demeanor of the bulky Wizard.
The Wizard looked over at Toby just as they got to the stone steps leading up to the tall wooden doors and he let out a snort. “You’re too skinny and young to pull off that mug. Save menacing for another day. How about you go for invisible and do your best to fade into the background and just watch.
Remember what I told you. Observe everything. Participate in nothing, no matter what you hear. Not a gasp, not a chuckle and under no circumstances if you like that geeky look you’ve got going and want to keep it, do you say anything. Got it?”
Toby nodded hard and snapped his mouth shut, taking a deep breath and headed up the steps.
“Lose the vest, kid. You’re not parking cars now.”
Toby quickly slid out of the vest and dropped it by the door as the Wizard pushed open the heavy wooden doors that were brought over from an old castle in Romania. Toby’s uncle thought they added a certain ambience to the whole effect.
They passed quickly through the front hall and down a short hallway that curved to the right to a far wing of the house. They entered the great ballroom just as the doors were being closed and the Wizard turned and gave Toby a sturdy shove toward a far wall where other lackeys and servants were standing quietly. Their eyes were all focused on the long, wide wooden table set up in the center where the heads of all the old families were already seated. At the end of the long table sat an older Wizard with wavy silver hair and a long, straight nose that looked like it could touch the top of his full lips. He was wearing a jet-black suit and black tie against a white shirt. At the cuffs were silver wolves and on his hand was a large signet ring bearing two wolves making the infinity sign.
Hanging overhead were different woven banners with the different family crests representing the old wizarding families of dark magic since they first came together thousands of years ago and formed an alliance.
“Hey…” Toby gave a nod to the young Witch standing closest to him. She looked at him long enough to give him a withering look and flick her long, brown braid off her shoulder. “Okay…” Toby put his hands behind his back and stood up straighter as he looked around the room.
