by A C Spahn
With the enchanter fled, I needed to get out of here. The Void Union would probably be coming to find out why their sentry wasn’t checking in, and I couldn’t afford to be here when they arrived. Using my phone to avoid tripping, I headed for the door. It was only when I glanced at the lit screen that I realized I had a text from Desmond. It must have come in the last couple minutes, after my phone was already buzzing from the stable door alarm.
I opened the message and read:
Stay home, A. Let me take care of this. Just arrived at the ranch, Union meeting me there. Will let you know when we get the guy.
Oh, crap.
I darted out the open door and ran straight into a muscular chest.
Chapter 10
“ADRIENNE?” Desmond’s voice mingled shock and anger. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I pushed off of him and backed up several paces. “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
“I was driving. Our sentry reported someone coming to the ranch. After the warning Maribel gave, I wasn’t expecting it to be you.”
“It wasn’t me. I just fought the enchanter off. He ran a minute before you arrived.”
“Where’s the sentry? He can back up your story.”
Uh-oh. “He’s dead.”
Desmond stared at me. “You realize you’re making this hard to believe.”
“If I was lying, the story would be better.”
He sighed and gestured to the open door. “After you.”
The gesture seemed gentlemanly. But it also ensured he didn’t have to turn his back on me.
We entered the stable and I showed Desmond the body of the sentry. “He must have struggled with the enchanter, then fallen and cracked his head.”
“Wow,” said a voice from the rafters. “That sucks.”
I jumped out of my skin. Desmond swore. We both looked up to see Kendall perched on one of the wooden beams, stark naked.
Desmond stared for a couple startled seconds before suddenly jumping and averting his eyes. “I told you to stay in squirrel form,” he said sharply.
“Wait,” I said. “You brought her but not me? You asked Kendall for help before me?”
“Kendall isn’t a person of interest in the case.”
“Kendall can’t defend herself against enchantments!”
“Kendall can hear everything you’re saying,” Kendall remarked mildly. She swung down from the rafters and held out her hand. “Jacket, please.”
I shrugged off my sweatshirt and handed it over. “You didn’t answer my calls.”
“I forgot my phone at home when Desmond picked me up.”
“That’s why we got here late,” said Desmond with a scowl, still struggling not to stare at Kendall’s exposed skin. “It took forever to wake her up.”
Kendall managed to squeeze into my jacket, though it hugged her curves and looked like it might burst if she moved too fast. Desmond removed his own hoodie, revealing a form-fitting brown t-shirt underneath. Kendall tied his sweatshirt around her waist like a skirt, completing her makeshift outfit. “You can stop hiding your eyes, boss. Though I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to look.”
“I don’t date employees.”
“Does that include Adrienne?”
“I’m not an employee,” I said quickly. “I rent my shop space.”
“This is not the time for this!” Desmond said, face flushed. With anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. “Adrienne, you’re going to need to explain what you’re doing here.”
“I already did.” My own temper kindled, flickering in my chest like a red candle teasing a curtain. “The alarm went off. I couldn’t reach you or Kendall. I came here, found the body, and scared off the enchanter.”
“That’s not going to be good enough for the Union,” Desmond growled.
“Hey,” said Kendall, “why are you picking on her?”
“It looks like she murdered this guy!” Desmond pointed a trembling finger at the corpse.
Kendall looked from the body, to me, and back. “He has a point.”
“I didn’t kill him,” I said, anger now burning bright. “For one thing, he’s a Void. My magic wouldn’t have worked against him.”
“You could have fought him physically,” said Desmond.
I crossed my arms, looked up at him, and waited.
He studied my petite size. “Okay, maybe not. But there are enchantments that work against us. Those that reshape a person, for instance. Turn them into a monster or an animal.”
“I’m not a shifter,” I said.
“Can you prove it?” He studied me closely. “Because the Union is going to ask. They’re going to pry. If you have no enchantment tattoos on your body, they’ll have to accept that you’re innocent. But if there are any, even one ...”
My eyes burned, and I turned away, not wanting him to see my face.
He was quiet for a moment. “I thought so.”
“It’s not my fault,” I said.
“The Union won’t believe that.”
“Do you?” I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you believe me, Desmond Desoto?”
He stared at me for a long moment, eyes full of unreadable emotion. Then he dropped his gaze. “I want to.”
I swallowed. “Good enough.” I marched to the ruined enchantment circle in the dirt and knelt beside it.
“What are you doing?” Kendall asked.
“You need proof that there’s another enchanter around besides me. I’m finding him.” I touched the circle, felt the tiny bit of magic left in it. Not enough to hold anyone, more like a single link from a broken chain. I drew the magic into me and let it sit.
Confusion. Frustration. Fear. Wildness, flailing against a wall.
“He was caught in the trap,” I said. “It scared him.”
A thirsty mouth, trying to suck dry a river.
I frowned. “He tried to undo the enchantment, to take the magic into himself.”
“Did it work?” asked Desmond.
“No. The magic’s nature was to hold him captive. He wouldn’t have been able to reshape it, at least not far enough from its original purpose. It would have kept fighting to imprison him, maybe killed him from the inside.” My frown deepened, as did my confusion. “The fact that he didn’t know that means he’s not an experienced enchanter. And he’s definitely not with a fleshwriter cult. They would have taught him about this.”
“So it’s a rogue,” said Desmond. “With new powers.”
The magic kept swimming through my head, giving me impressions of its nature and experiences. Scratching, slashing, force battering against the trap. Pushing back, straining to hold, aching with each blow. Then a rush of power, a bolt of lightning punching through and ripping the cage to shreds.
“He overwhelmed it,” I said. “Used his own magic to break through mine. That’s why the trap magic is just floating around. He dispersed it.”
“Is that hard?” Kendall asked.
“Enchanters work around other magics. We counter, or reshape. Raw force like this takes more magic than other strategies.”
“So it’s hard.”
“If my enchantment was a candle, he used a tidal wave to put it out.”
Kendall whistled. “Hella hard.”
Desmond put a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough, Adrienne. Let it out.”
“Just a moment.” I clung to the magic a bit longer, though it was starting to chafe at me, aching to be channeled. I sifted through the impressions left on it, and caught a glimpse of an old stone cellar, dank and dark.
I quickly drew a smaller circle in the dirt and planted my foot next to it. I laid a stick across the knot in my bootlace and the edge of the circle, then focused the magic on the knot and channeled it through the stick. A much smaller version of my circle trap sprang into being as the magic surged out of me.
With a sigh, I sat back and watched a fly buzz into the circle, then immediately crash into the magical barrier that sprang up aroun
d it. Disoriented, the fly bashed against one side of the magic cylinder, then another.
“The magic that broke my enchantment came from a cellar,” I said.
Kendall snickered. “Like, he kept it in a barrel?”
“I don’t know. The rogue enchanter must have been carrying the magic with him, unchanneled, when he came here. But it came from a cellar.”
“He can’t have carried it far,” said Desmond. “Not with the way magic starts grating on you when you’re holding it.”
I nodded. “Somewhere on this ranch is a buried cellar, and I’m guessing if we find it, we find our enchanter’s lair.”
Chapter 11
“THIS LOOKS DANGEROUS,” said Kendall. We stood before an open cellar, its wooden doors rotted down to the hinges. Spider webs clung to the stone, and an earthy graveyard scent wafted from below. Kendall had shifted to squirrel and climbed the tallest tree on the ranch. From that height she’d spotted this cellar door in the far corner of the ranch yard, in a place that would have taken us ages to find on foot. Desmond had returned to his car and fetched Kendall’s own clothes while she climbed, so I had my jacket back to protect against the cool night.
A bit of magic drifted in the air, so I picked up a stone, set it in a patch of moonlight, and used a long blade of grass as a channel. In a moment I had a glowstone, radiating moonlight.
“Let’s go,” I said. I led the way down the crumbling stone stairs.
At the bottom my glowstone illuminated a cramped workshop. A big central table stood empty, but along the walls dilapidated shelves held piles of feathers and leaves and stones, coils of rope and chain. Battered books on animal and human anatomy were stacked on a rock in one corner. There were creepier things, too. A bird skeleton laid out on a dilapidated table, as if in mid-flight. A knot of human hair forming the tail of a miniature rocking horse. A vial of dark red liquid. Desmond studied that last one and gave me a troubled look. The fluid could very well be tomato juice, but judging from this enchanter’s other materials, I doubted it. Stones had fallen out of the walls, leaving behind cavities backed by dirt. Kendall pursed her lips as she examined the walls. “This is so not earthquake safe,” she muttered.
One of the crevices left by fallen chunks of rock was filled with an array of jewelry pieces—rings, bracelets, and necklaces. I held up my glowstone to study them, but didn’t touch. Between two bracelets, a clean circle stood out on the rock, clear of dust. “There’s one piece of jewelry missing,” I said. “Probably a bracelet. Lots of other pieces still here. Our enchanter may be new, but he’s learning fast.”
“You said he has a ton of raw power,” said Desmond. “Maybe he had to learn fast, to keep ahead of the magic channeling through him.”
“Well?” asked Kendall. “Can you find him from all this?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I was hoping there’d be something here. A notebook or diary, something we could use to track him down.”
“How about this?” Kendall asked, and before I could stop her she picked up one of the bracelets.
“Stop!” Desmond and I cried at the same time. Kendall stood frozen, mouth partially open.
I forced myself to breathe evenly. “Do you feel anything?” I asked. “Anything weird? Sickness, dizziness, fire trying to burn its way out of your stomach?”
“Uh, no,” said Kendall.
“Do you want to stab either of us?” asked Desmond. I shot him a look, and he gave me an apologetic shrug.
“Definitely not,” said Kendall.
“Is sudden energy buzzing in your body?”
“That’s what she said.” Kendall snickered.
“This is serious, Kendall. You never know what might be carrying magic in an enchanter’s shop.”
Kendall’s eyes widened. She gave the bracelet a wary look. “Can’t you tell by looking at it?”
I shook my head. “Enchantments try to blend in. On inanimate objects, they’re almost impossible to see.”
Kendall shrugged. “Well, I feel fine.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t pick up anything else.”
“Understood, amiga.” Kendall moved to set the bracelet back down.
“No, don’t put it back!”
Her hand jerked to her chest. “What do you want me to do, then?”
“Just ... just hang onto that. The entire workshop might be enchanted against people leaving things here, to prevent surveillance. It’s safer to keep the bracelet than to try and find a clean spot to set it down.”
Kendall rolled her eyes and zipped the bracelet into one of her pockets.
My heart had just settled down into its proper spot when a thud from outside shot it into my throat again.
Instantly Desmond moved between us and the door. “Stay behind me.”
I stepped up beside him, my shield arm raised. “No. This is my fight.”
“Adrienne ...”
“I may be small, but in magic I’m a heavyweight. I’ve run from fleshwriters before. I’m not letting them chase me out of my new home, too.”
Desmond eyed me with an emotion I couldn’t pin down. Respect? Suspicion? Both? Maybe some affection, or was that just wishful thinking? I thrust thoughts of him out of my head, focusing on the doorway streaming cracks of moonlight. Though it was hard to concentrate with his warm form breathing deeply right next to me. The moonlight highlighted his tight abs beneath his t-shirt, and the way his jacket fell cast interesting shadows across his chest.
Focus, Adrienne. It’s sweet that an attractive man wants to save you, but right now you have to save yourself.
A shadow fell across the opening to the outside. A huge figure loomed there, silhouetted in creamy moonlight. It spotted us on the stone floor below and let out an inhuman growl.
“Fleshwriter,” said Desmond in a voice of practiced calm, “you’re suspected of misusing your power. Surrender to us and explain yourself.”
Another growl. The shape rose up, hackles of fur in sharp contrast to the starlit sky.
“Bear!” Kendall shrieked. “Who decides to be a bear in the middle of the Bay Area?”
The bear plunged into the workshop, taking the steps four at a time. His claws raked for Desmond’s chest, but Desmond lithely sidestepped and swiped his sword across the beast’s arm. It snarled and spun for him again, exposing its back to me. I nearly missed it in the shadows, but on its mid-back swirled the curling line of an enchantment tattoo.
I climbed onto a worktable, praying it wouldn’t collapse, and slapped my hand against the tattoo.
Magic surged at me, and I pulled on it, trying to draw it out of the tattoo, to force the enchanted man to return to a human form. But it fought me, skittering out of my reach, then charging and assaulting my mind. I couldn’t keep hold of it, and each attempt to do so sent a migraine wave of pain through my skull.
Something struck me in the side and threw me off the table. I crashed against the stone wall. Stars swam before my eyes.
Snarls and a cry of pain snapped the world back into focus. Desmond was backed against a wall, his sword weaving intricate patterns to fend off the bear. But the creature was monstrous, and it towered over him. He looked like an ant trying to fend off a tarantula with a toothpick.
Kendall wasn’t visible, and I guessed she’d gone squirrel. I crawled to where my purse had fallen and dug into the little pockets lining the inside. My gold sensory ring was in the top right pocket, easily accessible. I yanked one of my current rings off and jammed the sensory ring onto my finger just as the bear tried once more to maul Desmond.
Time slowed, sliding past like honey dripping down a plate. Bear musk and human sweat assaulted my nostrils. I gagged, the heaving of my stomach happening in laborious detail. Swallowing hard, I rounded the demolished worktable, each step an eternity. When I cleared the debris, I raised my arm, tapped the enchantment on a gunmetal grey bracelet, and prayed I wasn’t about to blow up.
Tapping too many enchantments at once put a strain o
n my body. The sensory ring was six active enchantments already. The moment I accessed the bracelet’s power, a burning began in my chest. Too much magic swirled through me, channeling itself into the world through my body and mind. I fought to keep the enchantments separate, to distinguish between my sensory ring and the ethereal automatic handgun I’d conjured. One was part of me, the other was a tool. A ring and a bracelet. On opposite hands. Two enchantments. Distinct. I pried them apart in my perceptions like untangling two strings.
The two magics finally parted in my thoughts, and I sensed them as individual powers. The sensory ring clung to my finger, making all my senses continue to tingle. The gun felt heavy in my hand as if it were real, though its wispy shape seemed formed of mist. With a deep breath, I pulled the trigger.
A regular bullet would probably feel like a bee sting to a creature this huge, but magic could pack a lot of power into a tiny blast. A magical projectile burst from the barrel and slammed into the bear’s back. It screamed. I had no idea an animal could make a sound so wretched, so unnervingly human. The creature whirled on me, its eyes alight with pain and fury. I aimed the gun and spoke, my words crawling across my tongue and scraping through the time-slowed air. “Shift back, or die.”
“Adrienne,” said Desmond, his eyes widening in slow motion. “No!”
The bear snarled. I had a good ten seconds to stare at its teeth. Then, at a painstaking pace, it began to change. First its head shrank into its shoulders. Fur receded back into skin. Claws became nails, and the huge body reduced to a large, muscular man. I was thankful for the dim light. I didn’t have to feel too awkward about his nakedness.
I waited until he was fully human, then pulled the sensory ring from my finger. I kept the conjured gun in hand.
Desmond moved carefully to flank the bear-man, cutting him off from the staircase. Moonlight glinted off Desmond’s face, and I caught a sheen of red. He’d been scratched. If I hadn’t already known, there was my proof that Voids weren’t immune to shifter enchantments.
