Postmortem

by SA Magnusson

  And I was supposed to work today.

  I swore under my breath and hurried back to my room and grabbed the phone. Residents could get sick just like anyone, but there was some danger to calling in. I had nearly missed my shift yesterday, and now I was late. Calling in would require a significant illness and depending on which attendings were on, might be poorly received. If I didn’t call, there would be repercussions.

  As I punched in the number, Aron stood in the doorway, watching me. I was glad he didn’t come all the way into my bedroom. Not that it was a mess. I didn’t own enough things for my room to be a mess. It was that I didn’t know quite what to make of my feelings toward him yet and until I did, I didn’t want him here.

  “Hennepin General Emergency Room.”

  I recognized Betty’s voice on the other end of the line. The call had probably interrupted her shopping. “Hey, Betty. It’s Kate Michaels. Can you tell me which attendings are on today?”

  “Dr. Michaels? Weren’t you supposed to be here two hours ago?”

  Shit. If Betty knew, that meant others were talking about it.

  “I am. I was. I didn’t sleep well last night and think I have the flu. Can I talk to one of the attendings?” Not Locks. Please don’t let her connect me to Locks.

  There was a pause as I was patched back to the attendings station. There were several attendings who would be annoyed at a resident calling in sick, but most would roll with it. Locks wouldn’t. He’d be likely to complain about it often and loudly to the point where I ended up in more trouble.

  The ringing stopped and the phone was picked up on the other end. “Dr. Allen.”

  I let out a sigh. At least with Allen I had a chance. Maybe not as good as it would have been had I not had the interaction that I had with him yesterday, but he would understand.

  “Dr. Allen, it’s Kate Michaels. I’m going to be out today with the flu. I… I’ve had a fever over one hundred two degrees, and I don’t think I could make it through my shift.”

  There was a pause. “You were supposed to be here at six, Dr. Michaels. A call then would have been better.”

  “I know, but it’s just that I didn’t sleep well and…” I didn’t want to stand here and continue to make excuses. The simpler answer was best. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a shift until the weekend, so should be recovered by then. Thanks for understanding,” I added hurriedly and then hung up.

  “Will everything be okay with your employer?” Aron asked.

  “Probably not,” I said, staring at my phone. There were three missed calls, all from the ER. “After yesterday, I wasn’t in the best standing anyway and with this… I’m going to have to work my ass off to get back into good graces.”

  “You don’t have to remain employed in this manner. With someone of your potential—”

  I looked up from the phone. “I don’t want to use my magic like that.” That answer wasn’t entirely true, but I also didn’t want Aron to know that over the last few months, I had felt an urge to use magic that hadn’t been there before. “And I love medicine. I love helping people. I’m good at it.”

  I expected him to argue, but he didn’t. “Since you no longer are expected to be in to work today, perhaps we could meet with Solera for answers. If she answers, that is. As she is one of the fae, she can be fickle. Her particularly so.”

  Any answer we could find would be welcome. I didn’t know what to expect and felt as if sitting around, waiting for Gran and Gramps to do whatever they planned to help Derek, wasn’t the best use of my time. It might actually have been better had I been at work. At least that way I would have been able to keep my mind distracted. And distraction was what I needed.

  “Where will we find her?” I imagined him taking me out of the city much like he had when we’d gone to meet Ariel. That had been far enough outside of the city that I thought a trip like that might actually let me clear my head even more.

  “West of here,” he said.

  “Great. That means more riding in the car with you.”

  “I’m an excellent driver.”

  “You have a tendency to go a little fast.”

  Aron shrugged. “The cars I drive yearn for speed.”

  I snorted. “Where is this car?”

  “I parked down the street.”

  “Let me get dressed and we can go.” I waited for him to step out of my room and I closed the door behind him. What should I wear to go meet with one of the fae? I considered dressing up, but without knowing exactly where he would take me, I decided comfort outweighed the need to impress Solera. And there was the fact that Aron was dressed in nothing more than a t-shirt and jeans. If he could get away with it, so could I.

  After getting dressed, I grabbed the sword, wrapping it in a blanket. We were going to her so that I could learn about my magic, so why wouldn’t I bring along the sword that helped augment that magic?

  When I stepped back into the living room, Aron nodded at the bundle in my arms. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be carrying that while we travel.”

  “You said we were going so that I could learn about my magic. If she has some way of understanding it—”

  “That sword will prevent us from reaching her,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “The demons and the fae don’t get along all that well. She would detect the presence of that sword and would refuse to come close when I attempt the summons.”

  “What if she won’t come close because of me?”

  “I don’t think that likely.”

  “What if I am part demon? If I am, she might avoid coming too close to me.”

  “Then we will have an answer.”

  I could tell from the way he said it that he didn’t believe it likely that I was part demon, but he also continued to refuse to acknowledge my connection to the sword. There was no disputing that I could use my magic through it. And he didn’t debate whether it was even a demon sword—and how could he, since we’d taken it off one of the demons? Which meant that this entire journey we were about to take was pointless.

  I set the sword back down in my kitchen, still wrapped in the blanket, even though a part of me wanted to bring it with me. Even if it deterred Solera, there was the possibility that it wouldn’t, and if it didn’t, then we would have a way for me to better understand my magic, and wasn’t that the entire purpose for going?

  I needed to trust that Aron knew what he was doing. That was why I had asked my grandparents to send him to help.

  As we reached the door to my condo, I grabbed his arm. “I know you don’t want to believe that I am part demon, but what happens if I am? What would the council do if they discover?”

  Aron didn’t look over at me. “There has never been anyone with that kind of magic.”

  “Never?”

  He set his hand on my arm. Sparks shot up it. “As far as I know, there has never been a crossing between a mage and a demon. Such a thing shouldn’t be possible, which is why I suspect you are something else, even if you refuse to believe it.”

  I swallowed. He had faith in me, but I wasn’t sure that I deserved it. With everything that I had done when it came to the demons, it seemed impossible for me to believe otherwise. Even Gran and Gramps had doubts about my magic.

  We headed out of my condo and I made a point of locking the door behind me. A flash of cold surged along my spine and I glanced over at Aron.

  “A seal. We will know if someone has tried to access your home while we’re gone.”

  “We will know?”

  He shrugged. “Fine. I will know.”

  “Does it keep me from going back inside? What happens if you’re not with me when I return?”

  He shook his head. “There would be no restriction to you gaining access.”

  “How?”

  “It’s a particular type of spell keyed to you.”

  What he meant to say was a complex kind of spell. The kind that I couldn’t do. I doubted I would ever be able to perfo
rm a spell like that. My type of magic was more about explosions and power than about finesse. There must be enough of my mother and her magic within me that it allowed me to attempt spells like my grandparents once had tried to teach, but not enough for me to be successful twisting that magic in the ways that mages did. Aron believed me to be powerful, and I might be, but I didn’t have the same capability as even a moderately powered mage. It was possible I couldn’t even approach what Derek could do.

  When we stepped out into the morning sunlight, the street was mostly empty. A car rolled past, the older driver hunched over the wheel reminding me of Marvin. It wouldn’t be him, though. Marvin didn’t drive. He made a point of walking everywhere he could or taking public transportation. The reason I knew that was because I had to walk or take public transportation.

  “Which way?” I asked.

  Aron pointed, and I started along the street but paused to look back at him when I felt a surge of cold along my spine.

  “Why are you using a spell?” I asked him.

  He frowned at me. “I’m not…” Aron spun around, unsheathing a knife and drawing on a spell. This time, I could tell it came from him. “Where did you detect it?” He searched the street, his posture coiled and ready to strike.

  “I don’t always have a directionality when I detect magic used. Last night, I thought I detected magic before I got home, but it was just you.”

  Aron glanced over at me. “You wouldn’t have detected me.”

  “I do now.”

  “Not in your home. That was part of the preparations I placed on it.”

  “You want me not to know if someone is using magic in my home?”

  “In order to protect you when you use magic, I had to.”

  A car honked farther down the street and I jerked toward it. Aron protected me, but I’m not sure I wanted him protecting me like that. I could defend myself. Most of the time, at least. “Then if it wasn’t you, there was another mage last night.”

  And if there was one last night, it was possible that person was still here.

  “Do you detect anything?” I asked.

  “I’m trying, but my ability to detect magic isn’t quite as potent as what you possess. If your grandparents were willing to use it, you could be quite beneficial to the council with this war.”

  War. I hadn’t realized what was taking place between the mage council and the Dark Council had escalated quite that far.

  The sense of the spell continued to press along my spine.

  I couldn’t tell where it came from, but it had to be nearby. There were limits to my ability to detect magic used around me, though I didn’t know the full extent of them.

  “We need to get to your car,” I said.

  Aron started down the street, gripping his knife. I can only imagine what would happen if we encountered a police officer. Would he be arrested for brandishing a weapon, or did Aron have some way of avoiding the police? When he had been here the last time, he had carried a sword with him and hadn’t bothered to hide it. Maybe with the right spell, Aron would be able to mask the fact that he carried it.

  If he could, then why couldn’t I?

  I couldn’t shake the sense that I wanted—and needed—to be armed the same way. With the demon sword, I would be able to not only defend myself it came to it, I would have an ability to augment my magic and draw it out more freely than I could otherwise.

  If there were members of the Dark Council, I’d rather have a weapon than simply depend upon my magic, especially if the karate mage appeared.

  We neared the end of the street. We had to wait for the light to change, and as we did, the sense of cold along my spine intensified.

  “It’s getting stronger,” I said.

  “See if you can focus on it.”

  “Focus on what?”

  Aron glanced over at me. “Focus on the magic you detect. If you can use that and connect to it, you might be able to determine which direction the magic is coming from.”

  “Draw on a spell,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to see if there is a distinction I can pick up on when you use magic. It doesn’t have to be anything complex, but since you’re standing here, if there is any way for me to determine where I am detecting something, I need to have something to compare it to.”

  Without him saying anything, cold tingled just under the surface of my skin. It was faint, at least compared to the blast of cold I felt from the other spell.

  I focused on the two sensations. They were separate, distinct, and I tried to get a sense of whether I could pick up on how they felt different, but there wasn’t anything obvious to it. While I was aware of Aron and the way he held onto his spell, I couldn’t tell any sense of direction from it.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe Solera will be able to explain my magic better.”

  “She may provide answers, but I doubt she will be able to help train you on the use of your magic.”

  “Then how will I learn it?”

  Aron had started to turn toward me when an invisible force struck him in the chest, sending him into the street. He staggered to his feet, his eyes wide as he looked for signs of the attacker.

  My magic surged. Proximity to Aron—and fear—helped me plunge into the knotted sense of my magic. I raced toward him, helping pull him to his feet.

  Cold burst along my spine again.

  “There’s another attack—”

  I didn’t have a chance to finish. It struck, this time slamming into Aron again, but it came from behind him. He went flying and landed on the ground where we had just been, motionless.

  “Aron!”

  I ran over to him, checking for a pulse. It was still there, strong and steady, and he rolled his head toward me, his eyes glazed.

  My mind began to work through the treatment. He’d been hit twice, and both times the force of the impact would be significant, enough that it would resemble a car accident. The first one had not been so much that he had struggled with it, but the second one had caught him off guard—or possibly without any protections in place.

  He must’ve hit his head, so I anticipated at least a concussion, but with as hard as he had slammed into the ground, it was possible that he had some internal bleeding. And there was no telling what had happened to him where the magic struck him.

  I needed some way of better evaluating him, but first I needed to get him off the street. I didn’t know where the attack came from, only that it came from two separate directions.

  The sense of magic surged again.

  I sprung to my feet, looking around. As I did, I managed to reach deep within myself and grab onto that sense of magic. I loosened my control over it, letting it flow freely, and it bubbled up within me. There was some danger in relaxing my control over it so completely, but there was greater danger in letting the mages of the Dark Council continue their attack.

  And it had to be the Dark Council.

  My grandparents had taught me basic spells, and that was what I returned to. Some of those spells were useful. I could lift things with magic, or I could move them. Some of them had been less useful at the time but now were much more valuable to me.

  Such as a barrier spell.

  Twisting my magic into a barrier was tricky, mostly because it didn’t want to be manipulated in the same way that my grandparents described using their magic. I needed a wall, a way to protect both Aron and myself, to avoid whatever attack the mages planned.

  The spell came together, though it was a clumsy attempt. It might not withstand much force, but hopefully it would be able to avoid me getting blasted by these dark mages.

  Grabbing Aron under his shoulders, I dragged him. He was mostly unconscious but awake enough that his head rolled from side to side.

  “We need to get out of here, Aron. If you can wake up at all, use that magic to heal yourself.”

  I had seen him recover from much worse injuries in this, but it took time. How much
time did we have before the Dark Council revealed themselves?

  Aron moaned, all the response I got out of him.

  Where could we go? I thought about dragging him back to my apartment, but that involved taking stairs or the elevator, even if I wanted to expose my home to another attack, and I doubted I would be able to drag him that far without help. Aron was too heavy for me to lift, even enhanced as I was with my magic.

  His car.

  We had to be close. He had mentioned that the car was only a block or so away, and we had been heading in this direction.

  I paused and looked around. There was still no sign of the mages who had attacked and there hadn’t been any pressure on my shielding, so either they were regrouping or they were coming at us in a different way.

  Once I got Aron to the other side of the street, I reached into his pocket, searching for his car keys. I found them. Another BMW. Why wasn’t I surprised? I scanned the street, looking for any BMW that might be parked here, but saw nothing.

  I tapped the unlock and lock button, hoping for either a flash of lights or a chirp, something that would indicate where the car had been parked.

  When I heard it, my heart sunk.

  It was too far down the street.

  I could drag Aron, but I didn’t know how long I’d be able to pull him before the mages decided to attack again.

  I had to try.

  I pulled him, dragging as quickly as I could. Where were other people on the street? It was almost as if it had emptied, though I shouldn’t be surprised by that. There was something about magic being used that caused non-magical people to avoid it, almost as if there was a part of them that knew when magic was used and told them to steer clear.

  For once, I wished it didn’t work that way. No cars made their way along the street and there were no pedestrians out.

  I had made it barely two dozen steps when something slammed into my shielding.

  It sent me staggering. Holding on to Aron was the only reason I didn’t get thrown off my feet. The shield might have protected me, but it wouldn’t prevent them from using enough force to overpower me.

  Something struck me from the other direction.

  I turned, looking for where the mage attack came from, but still saw nothing.