by A C Spahn
“Why’s that?”
“Most people who seek enchantment want something flashy. In the cult that raised me, Seekers most often came to us asking for shifting charms. But they’re ridiculously difficult. If I wanted to do one, I’d need to use an entire, living animal as the focus. Even then, it might not go right.”
“You’re saying the enchanter we’re hunting has a live wolf stashed somewhere?” asked Kendall, a hitch in her voice.
“No. If they’d used a proper focus, this shifter would have at least looked like a wolf, even if it still lost its mind.”
“He,” said Desmond quietly. “Whatever they are now, they were people once.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean ... if I could have saved them ...”
“I killed one, too. It had to be done. But we can at least respect the dead.”
I nodded, then continued more somberly. “I think our enchanter did this to them by fleshwriting. The enchanter used their own thoughts as the focus and their own body as the channel. For that to work, an enchanter needs an encyclopedic understanding of both human anatomy and the anatomy of the animal the shifter wants to become. Otherwise it goes wrong.”
“Like this?” asked Kendall.
“Like this.
“What’s this enchantment here?” Desmond pointed to the upright dog-thing, to my enchantment on its deformed hump. “It’s all by itself. The others are in clusters.”
Shit. “Um ... “ The hand in my pocket ached to don a ring, something protective, but why bother? Magical attacks wouldn’t affect Desmond, and he’d be able to walk right through my defensive enchantments like they weren’t there. The only enchantments that worked against Voids were those that reshaped a person’s physical form, like shifting enchantments. And as I’d just explained, they were notoriously difficult to get right. I wouldn’t risk something like that unless I was lethally desperate.
Nothing to do but plunge in. “I did that,” I admitted. “He was already insane. It didn’t do any more damage.”
Desmond stared at me. His hand crept toward his sword. “You enchanted a person.”
“Yo, you basically said they no longer qualify as people,” said Kendall.
“Whoever did this to them was sloppy,” I said. “A lot of the magic bled out and stayed here. It all bombarded me. I had to channel it.”
“Into a person,” said Desmond.
“So what?” asked Kendall. “It was self-defense. They were going to kill us. You saw them chasing me. And there’s more of them in the stable.”
We both whirled on her. “More?” Desmond drew his sword. I jumped, grabbing rings from my pocket, for all the good they’d do.
But Desmond didn’t attack me. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said, heading toward the stable. “Come on. You’re the one who’s familiar with these fleshwriters.”
“If it’s all the same to you guys,” said Kendall, “I’m going to wait in the car. One near-death experience per day is my limit. Besides, you don’t want some idiot squirrel getting in the way.” The quirk to her mouth told me she wasn’t actually offended, but she did lope back to the Subaru. At least she’d be safe. A warrior, Kendall was not.
I trotted after Desmond. “I’m not familiar with the fleshwriters.”
“You said you were raised by a cult.”
“I was. But they aren’t behind this.” Saying it out loud brought a wash of relief. But it was true. After seeing the sloppiness of the enchantments on the dog-men, I knew for sure my former family hadn’t found me. “The fleshwriters in my cult were highly trained. They did very precise work. They would never have left residual magic floating around, like the magic that bombarded me here. And they wouldn’t have caused the deformities and insanity. It can’t be them.”
Desmond grunted. “Just tell me this: Have you ever put an enchantment on a person before? Yourself or anyone else?”
The question startled me. I fumbled for a lie, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could weave a convincing deception with the best of them, but outright dishonesty never sat right with me. Call it a product of my childhood.
Desmond stopped and gave me an appraising stare.
“I was young,” I finally said. “I didn’t understand what I was doing. More magic collects around me than around the average enchantress. The cult used that, had me channel it into other members so they could use it later. It’s how I learned to use my power.”
“Other members? People who consented to being enchanted?”
I swallowed hard. “I’m not sure. It’s possible some of them were Seekers who wanted magical abilities. But knowing what I know about the cult now ... I would guess some of the enchanted were vessels, like these people.”
“Vessels.” The word sounded foul on his tongue.
“Their word, not mine.”
“Why you?”
“Why me what?”
“Why is the magic attracted to you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Some people can shoot three-pointers. Some people have perfect pitch. I have arcane forces that want to give me unlimited power and also kill me.”
Desmond’s face twisted in a strange expression. It took me a moment to recognize it. When I did, I realized he was laughing.
The sound came a moment later, his rich, throaty laugh dancing with the wind. “Three-pointers. You just compared enchanting to being good at basketball?”
His laugh released a lock inside me. Relief spilled through. I smiled. “I thought you were going to attack me. It was the best I could do.”
He reached out and gently brushed my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Adrienne. My life as a Void ... it’s never affected my real life before. I’m struggling with how to combine both worlds. But I like to think I know you. You would never hurt anyone on purpose.”
His warm hand on my shoulder made my heart grow wings and flutter around my throat. “That means a lot.” I pretended to brush hair out of my eyes, because dammit, I would not cry in front of him. “I’m just glad we’re still friends.”
His smile lost its luster. “I can’t say what the Void Union will do about all this, but I’ll try to keep you out of it.”
“Th—thank you.”
I wanted to grab his hand, keep him connected to me. I wanted to grab his neck, yank him down and kiss him. I did neither of those things. Instead I let him pull away, and I walked beside him as we continued toward the stables.
And I tried to ignore the kadum, kadum skating on the edge of my senses.
Chapter 7
HAY AND MANURE lingered in the air, coloring every breath. No horses remained, but the effects of long-term animal presence couldn’t be erased. Open stalls faced us, with metal fencing fading from green to gray. The other ends of the stalls opened into the stable, which we entered through a large, chipped wooden door.
Inside, the musty scents grew even stronger. A wall of aging saddles, bridles, and other tack smelled strongly of leather. A pile of metal buckets and a stack of salt licks stood beside the wall, along with a shovel and rake. Staging props for the non-existent ranch buyers, I assumed. On our right, wooden half-doors led to the outdoor stalls. On our left stood a row of indoor stalls enclosed by full-size doors, wood on the bottom and metal bars on top.
These stalls were occupied.
“Holy crap,” whispered Desmond.
Every stall had its barred window closed, sealing the occupants inside like a cell. The first cell was broken, the wooden bottom of its door splayed like a battering ram had felled it. This must have been where our dog-man-things came from. The next cell contained a creature that retained human shape but had scales covering her skin, and hair of long, silky seaweed. Her eyes were blind pools of white—the enchanter had taken her sight. The next cell held what had once been a litter of kittens but was now a herd of horned, bulbous fur-things with elongated teeth. Other former animals lurked in the shadows of the rest of the cells, though thankfully there were no more people.
We wandered back to the cell of the scaled woman, who sat in a basin of water, her knees tucked under her chin, her unseeing eyes staring at the wooden wall. “Who were they?” I whispered.
Desmond shook his head. “The Union has contacts with the SFPD. They’ll be able to identify them, discretely. But I’d guess they’re indigents. Homeless people. Drug addicts.”
“Those who won’t be missed.” My gut tightened. “Those who don’t have anyone to rescue them.”
Desmond slanted his eyes toward me. “You okay?”
Kadum ... kadum ... I shook my head. “Nothing about this is okay.” I knelt on the ground and drew a circle in the dirt. “Get me one of those bridles, and the handle from one of the metal buckets.”
“What are you doing?”
Kadum. Kadum. Kadum. “Just do it. Once I dispel the magic, I’ll explain.”
“There’s more already?”
“This entire property is marinating in sloppy magic. I got rid of the power outside, but there’s a little more in here.”
“Are you okay to do this many enchantments in a row?”
“I’ll live. But thanks for asking.”
Desmond brought me the materials. I tied an intricate knot in the bridle straps, taking my time since the magic wasn’t yet assaulting me. I laid it beside my dirt circle, then hooked one end of the wire bucket handle into the knot. I buried the other beneath the edge of my circle.
Kadum. Kadum. The magic wasn’t strong enough, not for what I wanted to do. “I need the dog-thing. The one I froze out on the road.”
Now Desmond frowned. “What are you going to do to him?”
“Nothing. I’m going to undo what I already did. The enchantment I put on him is still fresh. If I take it out again, it shouldn’t hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt.”
I helped Desmond drag the enchanted dog-thing into the stable. We put him in one of the unoccupied stalls, checking that this one had an undamaged wooden wall. “We’ll have to be quick,” I told Desmond. He took up a position by the stall door and nodded. I took a deep breath, then placed my hand on the dog-thing’s humped shoulders, over the enchantment tattoo I’d given him. I breathed in, and sucked the magic back out of him.
KADUMKADUMKADUMKADUM. Instantly my head was pounding. My pulse throbbed in every joint. I fought the urge to vomit. Propelling myself backward on unsteady limbs, I made it out the stall door just before the dog-thing lunged at me. Desmond slammed the door in its face, locking it inside its new cell. It howled and scrabbled at the door, but the wood held. For now, at least.
Desmond said something, but my mind couldn’t process it. KADUMKADUMKADUM, I stumbled back to my enchantment, felt the magic struggling to break loose, wanting to bind something once more.
I’d given it that purpose, and now I redoubled its goal. Holding my hands over the tangled bridle, metal wire, and dirt circle, I chanted. Bind whoever steps into this circle. Hold them fast, in prison of air. Tie limbs, tie thoughts, restraining in sleep until I return and break this enchantment.
Magic swirled into the knotted bridle, soaking up its tortuous nature. It channeled through the solid, unyielding wire and into my dirt circle. The circle dug deeper into the ground. The drumming in my head ceased.
I sat back and admired my work. This was some of my strongest on-the-fly enchanting. The magic I’d used was already inclined toward what I wanted it to do, and the available materials lent themselves well to a firm construction. Slowly, careful not to trip the enchantment, I withdrew the bucket handle from the dirt and picked up the bridle.
Desmond stood near the cell, where the dog-thing was still protesting confinement. “What did you do?”
“Set a trap.” I pointed to my circle. “Whoever enchanted these creatures is powerful. Magic must be throwing itself at him for him to make so many enchantments. But he’s inexperienced. Probably a novice just starting to test his abilities. I’m guessing he won’t know enough to look for circles that could hold enchantments.”
“When he steps inside the circle, what happens?”
“In theory, it’ll knock him out and hold him until I come release him.”
“That’s theory. What about in practice?”
I gave Desmond a scandalized look. “It won’t kill him.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
“Not unless there was no other—”
“Adrienne, just tell me what could go wrong with the enchantment.”
I flushed. “Sorry. It’s a sensitive topic.”
“Someday you’ll have to tell me what your cult did to you, to make you so nervous.”
Yeah, no. That was not happening. Instead of answering, I said, “Best case scenario, the trap holds the enchanter captive and knocks him out. But depending on the magic he’s already carrying on him, or the magic swirling around him in the air, it might only do one of those things. Or half of each.”
“So it might just piss him off?”
“The magic was inclined toward what I wanted it to do. I think it should at least trap him in the circle until I come remove the enchantment.”
“Are you planning to come back and check your trap each day, or is it going to let you know when it goes off?”
I shook my head. “Alerting and binding are two different things. I’ll set another enchantment on the door to warn me if someone comes in.”
“But the door alarm won’t cripple him at all.”
“No.”
Desmond looked at me as if I was crazy. “You’re planning to come here when an enchanter trips your alarm, with no way of knowing whether or not he’s also tripped your trap.”
“If you have a better idea, I’m a good listener.”
He shook his head. “Can’t we do something more normal?”
I put on a thoughtful look. “I do have a hot glue gun, a roll of twine, and some glitter in my purse.”
“I said normal.”
“For me, that is normal.” I untied the bridle and hung it back on the wall. Then I slipped the wire handle back through its holes on the bucket. “This is the best I can do.”
“Fine.” Desmond’s voice came from right behind me, and I jumped. He must have crossed the stable while I tidied up. His hand covered mine and gave it a squeeze. “But before you come here, you call me, okay? You’re not confronting this guy alone.”
If I were a poet, I’d have woven words that told him how my skin tingled and my chest spilled over with joy at his concern. But I was a crafter, so instead I just gave his hand a return squeeze and held it as we exited the stable.
We stepped through the cracked wooden door into midday sun, and I froze.
Three men and two women stood in a semicircle, surrounding us against the stable door. One of the men held Kendall, her hands bound behind her, her mouth gagged. The other four aimed gleaming handguns at Desmond and me.
“Not bad, Desoto,” said a woman in camo pants and a black tank top that highlighted her abundant cleavage. “You’ve caught us an enchantress.”
Chapter 8
I DROPPED DESMOND’S HAND like it had burned me and backed toward the stable. My fingers itched to dig into my pockets in search of a weapon, but I knew better than to give them a reason to shoot me. Magic drummed lightly on my skin, reminding me that, should I need it, I had another weapon available. Not that it would help against a squad of Voids.
Desmond held perfectly still. “She’s not my prisoner, Maribel.”
The blonde woman looked me up and down. “She’s small to be such a threat.”
“I’m not that small,” I said at the same time that Desmond said, “She’s not a threat.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be touched or offended.
Maribel locked eyes with me. “You keep your hands visible. No sudden movements, no reaching into pockets. You act like you’re about to use magic, and we shoot you. ¿Entiende, chica?”
I
raised an eyebrow. “You’re not Latina, gringa.”
“I’m adopted.”
Desmond took a step forward, hands still raised. “Look, this is a misunderstanding. Adrienne is helping me figure out who’s enchanting people. She’s not the one doing it.”
“How do you know?” said Maribel.
Kendall had been rubbing her chin against her shoulder, loosening the gag. She finally got it off and said, “Yo, I’m not an enchantress or a threat, so can we maybe not hold me like this? You’re squeezing so tight you’d crush me if I even tried to shift right now. I thought you people needed a warrant to arrest someone.”
“They’re not police,” I said, eying Maribel coldly. “They don’t need permission for anything.”
Maribel sighed. “Let the shifter go.”
The man holding Kendall unlocked her wrists, and she wasted no time in stomping over to stand with Desmond and me. The buckles and zippers on her cargo pants rattled with each step, and her boots crunched on the gravel drive. The Voids watched in silence, and when it became apparent none of us were going to attack, Maribel sighed and lowered her gun to aim at the ground. Her team followed suit, holstering their weapons, though Maribel kept hers in hand.
“What are you doing here, Desoto?” she asked. “We thought you’d be at home.”
“Adrienne got a glimpse of where the magic on that gunman came from,” said Desmond. “We came to check it out.”
“Without backup?”
“I had backup.” His voice was quiet, his head tilted toward me and Kendall.
Maribel huffed and finally holstered her gun. She stalked toward us, inspecting us one by one. Kendall drew herself to full height and crossed her arms, meeting Maribel’s glare defiantly. For my part, I held still. Playing timid and unthreatening had worked for me in the past.
