Lost Lamb

by M. P. Taylor

  That was how I looked at it anyway. There was always that little voice that told me I was a coward, running from the truth. I ignored the voice, preferring a night of sleep to truth any day.

  All power had its limit though. The nightmares would never fully stop, she'd told me as much. Some things couldn't be forgotten, not even in death. She had dulled them though, made them bite less hard.

  Nomia considered me for a moment then came to the edge of the water, “What do you seek? I shall aid you on all quest of noble purpose.”

  I favored her with a smile. Nomia was good. Not in the same way as a human, it was her entire being that was good. We had to fight against the evils of our soul but she was never bothered by vile temptations. Such pureness was healthy just to be around.

  “There's something killing people in Seattle. I had a lead but I lost it,” I sat down next to the water, taking my boots off and letting my feet soak “figured you might be able to do some of that mind stuff and dig up what I needed.”

  Nomia nodded, “I can but such things have a price.”

  “Name it.”

  “Simply that you pledge to aid us but once in a time of need,” the lady of the lake began to swim on her back, idly looking upwards towards the sky, “There is a strong current that is rushing through the world. I've not felt its like since the dawn of machines,” her eyes feel to me, cautious but not afraid, “We will need the aid of others in the time to come, not just we of nature, but also you of magic and of man. Pledge to aid me and mine but once, and I shall aid you in kind.”

  “Nomia, you've done much for me. You have my pledge. Not just for once, but for whenever you seek my aid.”

  Nomia nodded, “You are kind. I accept you pledge and promise not to abuse your generosity. Now come, join me in the waters.”

  This was the part I always dreaded, it was the stupid things that got me.

  Being surrounded by beings far more beautiful than any human was capable made me rather self conscious.

  It was a silly notion, childish even, but still I felt my own insecurities well up as I stripped out my cloths and jumped into the water. I suppose I could have kept my undergarments on but, outside of this minor paradise, it was quite cold. Wet clothes and winter don't mix. Thus I ignored indulgent looks and took comfort in the shroud of water.

  The water itself was warm. I'd asked about in the past and apparently it was made that way through Nomia's own effort of will. A constant exertion of divine energy used to control temperature, it was the sort of things that would make an archmage jealous. Sure we could throw icicles at our enemies or make fireballs, but to change an environment was something else. It was a constant, precise sort of magic that took ages to master, and Nomia could literally do it in her sleep.

  “Do you do bathtubs?” the temperature was perfect – warm enough to erode all weariness without being overwhelming.

  She raised and elegant eyebrow and laughed, warm and pure, “Sadly not, but you are welcome to come here anytime. Business or...otherwise.”

  “I'll take you up on that,” I said humbly. You don't get offers from gods too often. It was wise not to turn them down.

  It was easy to relax in such pleasant waters. There was also something else there, a slight current of magic that ran across my skin. It was a tender massage that managed to work out weeks of stress in a few moments.

  The sensation was familiar too me, I'd been in these waters many times before. Those trips had been a formal affair as an a member of the elders, the official wizard organization of the Americas. They'd sent me here to be purged of darkness and, for the most part, it had worked. Even now, after recent trauma, I felt at peace in the waters.

  Sometimes, I gave serious consideration to joining Nomia and becoming fey. It wouldn't be that bad, enchantresses were some of the most powerful begins in existence.

  A gentle touch along my stomach reminded me that I wasn't alone. Nomia's hand ran along my most recent scar, a touch that was so light I almost didn't notice it.

  The fey weren't big on personal space.

  “Was this from the killer you seek,” her hand then when to my neck, to the fang marks that were all but gone, “Umbra. Did the children of shadow hunt you?”

  “Hunt? No, it was far more of a beating then a hunt,” I told Nomia what happened. The crime scene, the memories I took, and the brawl with the blood knights.

  By the time I finished we were on the far side of the water with her playing with my hair as she listened in quite contemplation.

  She shook her head and finally spoke, “The shadow hunters are not creatures to take lightly. I could offer you sanctuary if you so wished, broken one.”

  That was an appealing thought. Surrender to the safety that Nomia could offer, become one of her handmaidens. Still, I wanted more than to hide behind the skirt of another.

  “No thanks. Besides, they didn't kill me before. I think they want to play nice with the elders.”

  The goddess nodded, “Perhaps, I suppose the only way we shall know is by following to trails end.”

  “Indeed,” I let out a deep sigh and relaxed my body. Nomia's hands closed around me, supporting my body as I prepared for what was to come.

  Nomia was a master of subtle magic. Her abilities laid in the gentle manipulation of what was already there. She could enhance things and slowly dull them away until they were all but forgotten.

  My nightmares for example. They had once left me helpless within the darkness, my mind would shut down and I would go in a unresponsive state. It had took months of visits, but slowly Nomia had helped to dull that fear into something more manageable.

  Now I could handle the darkness so long as I was awake, but the notion of falling asleep within was terrifying to me.

  That same magic could be used to really mess someone up. If she had wanted to, Nomia could inspire new fears or increase the strain of my already existing nightmares. Thankfully, Seattle's Greek goddess was a kind soul.

  Her hands crossed my chest and I felt disconnected from my body as I was brought into the realm of memories and dreams. Not a physical place but one of thought made so real as to be indistinguishable. Nomia was there as well, a sort of positive energy that was channeling my thoughts in the right direction – the crime scene.

  Years passed by me in minutes, I caught glimpses of both good and bad. Memories I had forgotten flared up in my mind and Nomia could see it all.

  That was one of the things that gave me hope. Nomia had seen everything I had, my memories and soul. She hadn't written me off but instead guided me with an understanding hand. Something that I had once forgotten existed.

  My memories soon focused on that small suburban home from the night before. Things flickered into place one at a time as Nomia recreated the memories in perfect clarity. I told her to move forward. Minutes passed in the span of seconds until I reached what I was looking for. An image of myself going through papers on the desk. I told Nomia to pause the memory.

  Everything froze just then but with perfect clarity.

  The papers were there to see, they had always been but Nomia could take the tiniest fragment of a memory and turn it into a vivid thing.

  I read the nearest paper. It was nothing more than some inventory management forms. Nomia resumed the flow of time until the next one came, nothing. So the process went for a time with me examining the papers one after another. Helen Roberts had spent her final moments grabbing these so there must have been something worthwhile. Problem was, would I know it when I saw it?

  One of the mid section documents stuck out for me. It was an email sent between a group of employees from Incrementum Pharmaceuticals.

  Latin, meaning growth.

  It took me a moment to realize the thought was not my own, but instead Nomia's. She had translated the word so smoothly I nearly thought I spoke Latin for a moment.

  I did not save for a smattering of words I used as incantations – triggers that fire off the mental synapses used to conj
urer spells. The words themselves were rather useless, but it was a way to organize thought. You didn't want to use common words such a 'winter' for an incantation. If you did, you'd risk triggering the mental reflex a dozen times a day. Thus, Latin was commonly used as it was a dead language, something you wouldn't hear save for once a lifetime.

  A quick thanks to Nomia and I continued to read the document.

  The names had been what stuck out. They'd all belong to victims. Four names and four bodies. Someone had killed all of the people on this project. Not only that but their loved ones as well.

  James, Helen's husband, had been a carpenter and not a researcher. I knew because I had lived as him for a few minutes, those final ones before he died.

  Thinking about the dead made me angry. Not me actually, the shadow of James. His memories had become my own and, now that I visiting their home once more, those memories jumped to the surface.

  'Get rid of them,' I told Nomia.

  A moment later, James was gone. A cold emotionless memory still remained, but it was drained of his personal context.

  Without the distraction I continued reading the document;

  The subject (Ethan William) has agreed to undergo stage one trials. Compensation to his wife's account has been made and a NDA has been signed by them both. Attached is a final review of the subjects medical history and profile. Examine and ensure the subject is as close as match as possible. If there is no dissent by Tuesday the 24th, I'll finalize preparation for the procedure and contact the subject to ensure he is still willing.

  -Helen

  The next document was a goldmine of information on the 'subject'. Ethan William's entire medical history but, more importantly, an address where he could be found. The report also gave a general description of the man – six foot two, black hair, Spanish heritage and brown eyes. There was more data there, complex medical stuff that meant nothing to me. I burned the image of the man and the address into my mind and then continued.

  The rest of the documents proved to be more vague hints to a project and other mundane information. When there was nothing more I told Nomia to bring me back to the waking world.

  A surge of power, a gentle touch and I found myself fumbling in the water.

  Nomia held me until I remembered how to swim, “Find what you were looking for?”

  “Ugh, maybe,” I felt a slight tinge of pain in my head. Having a goddess poking around in your memories tended to create a headache. A minor price to pay.

  “It is my hope,” she said calmly, “That creature, it seemed beast most foul. Those people...they didn't have a chance.”

  I nodded my head, “They rarely do.”

  “As individuals perhaps, but humans are a fierce creature to face. Not as an one, but as a community. I've seen dragons fall from nothing but stone and steel. Now the man-things have such potent tools...sooner or later, they will catch the creature and put it down.”

  “Let me guess, this is were you tell me to leave it be? That the authorities will handle it, and that I should should focus on my recovery?”

  Nomia nodded, “Not interested. Can't let something go around killing things in my backyard. It makes me look weak. More predators would come and then we'd have a new Vermont situation.”

  Nomia offered an understanding look, “So be it, broken one, but I've a final question for you.”

  I raised an eyebrow, “Hm?”

  “Race me to the other side?” the goddess asked before kicking off on the stone edge of the water. I sighed and gave chase.

  Chapter Five

  Leaving the glade was never easy. Even so, Bucket seemed far more reluctant than myself. I found him being served some kind of freshly killed animal slabs from the hands of a few fairy maidens. One might have thought him to be doggy royalty from the sight, but that was just how they fey acted. It didn't matter if it was a dog, a human or a werewolf. So long as you were nice, they'd return the favor. It was why the fey were so often the diplomats of the supernatural world. They were easy to get along with and few people wanted to deal with nature itself being pissed off.

  I confirmed that Bucket was not, in fact, doggy royalty and that he was already taken much to the dismay of his apparent suitors. The mutt gave a grunt but found the force of will to return with me back to civilization.

  Good dog.

  My precaution of not swimming in my undergarments proved to be a valuable one. The winter day had only grown slightly less fearsome and, by the time I left, the trail had hardened into a solid layer of ice. My hair soon matched, having been frozen, no doubt I'd have a cold before too long. I would have asked for a towel but the fey didn't carry much in the way of textile goods and what few they had were largely ceremonial things such as Nomia's toga. Thus, I bore through the cold with a slight chill.

  By the time I got to the ranger's station I had sworn off the northern states and decided to move south.

  Bucket barked at something I didn't quite see. His instincts were sharp, far sharper than mind so I just assumed my day was about to get worse.

  Raising my staff, I enacted a ward about us. A second later I noticed a red line being draw across my chest. A sniper, good times. That he hadn't took the shot yet meant that he was either looking for the perfect shot or he was just a precaution.

  Before I could figure out which, a group of men made their way out from the woodlands, surrounding me.

  It was a right old ambush. Dozens of muzzles aimed at me in seconds from multiple lines of fire. What had once been a singular bead of red light was soon a swarm that would make any cat go mad with bloodlust.

  They weren't just well armed, they also had the armor to back it up. Tactical vest, helmets and even small runes that were engraved upon the exterior.

  Gods, who bothered shielding their mortal cannon fodder. They were cannon fodder for a reason.

  “Don't move!” one of the men shouted at me.

  I told Bucket to yield, last thing I needed was him getting jumpy. The mutt growled but obeyed.

  “I'm a wizard of the third circle under the peerage of Elder Maxon and Blade Natasha! By what right do you command me mortal!” I tried to sound as Disney villain as possible. Casual confidence, mixed with malevolence as though I wasn't terrified by the number of guns pointed at me.

  A man appeared in front of me.

  By appeared I mean that he quite literally simply was there when he hadn't been before. There was no aura of power about. He was either a mortal, a being of such low power that he didn't register on my radar, or he was so far beyond my radar that he broke the meter. Only one of those was really likely given that he clearly had just used some supernatural ability to appear.

  The man himself didn't look terribly remarkable.

  Old but not ancient, worn by experience not years. He had a gray tint to his hair. With a bit of dye he could have passed for early forties. On his face was a somber sort of blandness. That of a professional who didn't see me as anything remarkable. He nodded in my direction, a respectful gesture that I found myself responding to in kind. It was the whole wizard thing, we loved our nods and bows – comes with the robes.

  “I know who you are,” the man began with a dry, neutral voice, “Do forgive me for the precautions but I, being mortal, have only my life. I must guard it well.”

  “Nice trick you pulled for a mortal,” I continued to look him over and still had no clue how he'd pulled that one off. Invisibility spell maybe? I pulled over the possibilities in my mind.

  “We all have our secrets,” he said with a modest smile.

  “Color me impressed,” I glanced behind me as a man took a knee and aimed at shotgun at my backside, “So this a social call or can I start trying to take down as many of you as I can?”

  “Social,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

  His men lowered their barrels slightly. Not enough to take more than a second to get back into position but it was better than nothing.

  “Again, I ask your pa
rdon. I'm not the sort of man who is well liked by many in your community.”

  “Wizards?” I asked.

  “Wizards among many others. Vampires, werewolves, dragons...so on and so forth. None of them seem to like the idea of us pathetic mortals interfering in their plans,” his smile receded into a neutral mask, “Believe it or not, Miss Vane, I've come to offer you a job.”

  “Are you making me an offer I can't refuse?”

  He snorted a laugh, “Humor is good. It will keep you alive for a long time. Friends are better though and I could be your friend. I've got the resources to aid you. Men, firepower and a number of relics that most of your elders wouldn't dream of getting their hands on – sources of power that simply don't have a price tag on them.”

  “Can you say that you're truly happy with your place in life Miss Vane? I know of you, your history. A step away from being executed for what amounted to a simple accident. A single mistake and you went from student of the year to dead man walking, figuratively speaking of course,” he gave me his best sympathetic old man look, “You have power. Power that can be used for good. Let me help you in that endeavor.”

  My face was bunched up in an unpleasant scowl. There had been truth to his words. A number of them.

  The elders had abandoned me for the most part, but that wasn't fair – I'd abandoned them as well. I was, more or less, a free agent. A wizard who belong to the elders but to whom the elders didn't want. This man wasn't the first who'd asked me to join. Rogue wizards were a valuable commodity as all underground powers needed our skills. Divination, warding and raw power all packed into a single body.

  That being said, I didn't like my past being brought up as a sort of looming threat.

  “You didn't answer my question,” I said as calmly as I could, “Are you making me an offer I can't refuse?”

  He shook his head, “No. You may leave if you wish.”

  That gave me pause.

  Mainly because, despite all of the men pointing guns in my direction, I believed him.