by Jayne Faith
AFTER LEAVING ED’S, I stayed up nearly all night, hunched over my laptop doing research. I decided to try to pretend that I was Damien and learn all I could about the blood magic. It was rare, which would give me an edge against powerful crafters like the mages, especially if they didn’t know I possessed it. Where would Damien go for information about a strange, rare magic?
He’d been a scholar his entire life, taking classes, earning degrees, learning skills, conducting research, and training in various magics and weapons. I didn’t have time to be that thorough, but I figured I might be able to make use of some of his resources and tactics. I looked up the universities he’d attended to earn his degrees in magical studies. Surely those places had extensive resources.
I found a website with a database of scholarly papers on the topics of magic, magical technology, and similar topics. I really wished I knew someone in academia, but most of the people I associated with were blue-collar folks who never had the money for high-priced degrees.
When the bedroom door opened and Deb emerged, she and I both jumped a little.
“Is it morning?” I asked incredulously.
At the same time, she said, “What are you doing up?”
“My alarm just went off,” she said.
I tilted my head, cracking my neck, as I realized how stiff I was. “I guess I stayed up all night.”
“Doing what?”
“Research,” I said. “Hey, do you know anyone with access to university research libraries.”
She spread her arms in a ta-da motion. “Um, me?”
I tilted my head skyward. Of course. Deb took one class a year through Boise State University’s online program, as she slowly made her way through another advanced certification. She wanted to work with special needs kids eventually, so she was earning the necessary credentials.
“Is there any possibility that BSU’s library connects to other libraries?”
“Yep. Whatcha need?”
“Some magical research,” I said. “Academic papers.”
She came over to my laptop, opened a new browser window, and went to BSU’s student portal, where she entered her credentials.
“Just use my account and order whatever papers you need,” she said. “Most of them should be available immediately for download if they’re through other libraries.”
I reached up to hug her waist with one arm. “Thank you, this is perfect.”
She giggled. “I’ve never seen you get excited about anything to do with school or research. What are you looking up?”
“Trying to find anything I can about my magic,” I said, staying purposely vague about the blood magic. “I figure if I can give myself a quick crash course, it can’t hurt, right?”
Deb’s expression sobered. “I really wish you wouldn’t go after Damien alone, Ella.” She looked conflicted. “I understand you have to do anything you can for your brother, but . . . I don’t see how you stand a chance against a mage. I just don’t want you to end up dead.”
“I know.” I sucked in a heavy breath and then thumped the center of my chest. “My reaper makes me very, very difficult to kill, don’t forget that. Believe me, I don’t want to end up dead, either. I’ve waited a very long time to find Evan.”
She gave me a sad little smile and went into the kitchen. She emerged a few minutes later with a mug of tea, which she took into the bathroom with her. A moment later, the water in the shower turned on.
I scrubbed my hands down my face as my sleepless night started to catch up with me. But I pushed on, doing searches through Deb’s account and refining my terms a little each time.
Deb left for school, and some time after that I started to nod off over the keyboard. I came to with a start and gave my head a shake.
Loki, who’d been dozing next to me on the sofa, looked up expectantly.
“Ughhh,” I moaned. “I can’t just sit here reading papers. We’ve gotta talk to Switch. And find out what Damien’s done with Evan.”
My body wanted me to lie down and take a nap, but my mind was whirling. I jumped in the shower, and that woke me up a little. Then I brewed a very strong pot of coffee and filled an insulated gas station travel tumbler with the dark, steaming liquid. Then I groaned.
“Well, shit.” I looked down at the mug and then over at Loki. “This won’t travel the way we’re going.”
I plugged the kitchen sink and turned on the water, and with the mug in my hand, I went to get my warmest winter jacket. I took a few gulps, scalding my tongue, as I waited for a couple inches of water to fill the bottom of the sink. Then I shut off the water, set the mug on the counter, gave it one last longing look, and let myself fade into the in-between. My hellhound-doodle joined me. I took a moment to picture the road leading to Switchboard’s cabin in the mountains, specifically the little stream next to the road, conjuring it as exactly as I could from memory, and then used Rogan’s trick to take us there.
We transported to an isolated spot in the mountains that would have taken me about three hours to reach in my truck. The ghostly shape of the old car up on cinderblocks told me I was in the right spot.
Following the tug of the living realm, I found myself standing in a thickly-wooded area with patches of snow still over a foot deep under the trees. The path leading to Switch’s cabin had been tramped down until the snow was a compact, dirty layer that had frozen to a crust on the top.
The memory of being there with Rogan punched through me, and I paused for a second to collect myself.
My breath puffed in pale white clouds, and the cold was already stinging my cheeks. Loki had bounded several yards ahead but stopped and turned to wait for me. I just hoped Switch didn’t get twitchy with one of his shotguns and accidentally shoot my sweet dog. Unlikely, seeing as how the hermit mage was a telepath. He should have sensed us—or me, at least—the moment we arrived in the vicinity. Still, I moved slowly, not wanting to cause him alarm.
The air was cold and crisp enough to make my nasal passages tingle and my eyes water. Last time, with Rogan, there’d been the barest dusting of snowfall but no accumulation of the stuff yet. It barely looked like the same place now, with the conifer boughs weighed down by snow and the ground mostly obscured.
Loki was waiting for me at the door by the time I was close enough to the cabin to see movement behind one window. Switch was home, and that was lucky for me. Rogan had said that Switch sometimes went out hunting for days at a time. I couldn’t imagine doing that this time of year, but the hermit mage was obviously accustomed to a very rustic life. He probably thought nothing of it. Probably didn’t even need a proper shelter.
The door creaked open as I approached.
“What happened to yer magic?” Switch croaked at me. His voice crackled around the edges, as if he hadn’t spoken at full volume in quite some time.
I raised a hand in greeting. “Hi, Switchboard. I’m a Level III now.”
“Obviously. How’d ya manage that?” He swung the door wide. “Git inside, woman, before all the heat escapes.”
I scooted through the doorway. Loki went over to the dirty rag rug in front of the fire, circled a few times, and then plopped down with a contented sigh.
“Damien Stein did it,” I said.
I glanced around the one-room abode. It hadn’t changed much. Logs burned in the fireplace, dirty dishes filled the wash basin, and the bed was rumpled. Switch himself looked about the same, too—like a caricature of an old-timey miner, with weathered skin, a long scraggly beard, and suspenders over a grimy shirt.
“Ack,” Switch scoffed. He hocked a wad of tobacco juice into the tin cup he held in one hand. “Went and made himself a mage, I heard. Shouldn’t mess with the natural way of things. Where’s the reaper man?”
For a second, I wasn’t sure who he was talking about.
“Rogan died,” I said quietly. “Well, he’s not gone, exactly. He passed back to the in-between.”
Switch grunted and nodded, seeming to mull that over. �
��Good for him, I suppose.”
I shrugged. “It was what he wanted, so yeah.”
“Whatcha want from old Switchboard, girlie? It ain’t the pleasure of my company, I’m guessin’.” He gave a dry cackle-cough.
He seemed to be in a decent mood. I took a breath. I figured I might as well go for broke and make the biggest ask first.
“I need help,” I said. “Damien Stein took my brother, Evan. Damien intends to give him to the mages, if he hasn’t already. They will use Evan to try to permanently close the rips, but it would mean my brother’s death. Evan is innocent, and he doesn’t deserve to be a pawn in the mage’s schemes. I’m not going to let anyone use my brother as a sacrificial lamb. There has to be another way. I’ve come to ask you to go with me to face the mages and save my brother.”
He’d gone over to perch near the fire on one of the seats there—a cut log tipped on its end to provide a rustic chair. He propped one fist on his hip and regarded me with his pale gray-blue. Galaxies swirled in his irises.
“Passionate speech,” Switch said.
I waited for him to say more. When a few seconds of silence ticked by, I shifted my weight.
“So, will you go?” I asked.
He barked a laugh. “God, no. I’m done with those bastards and their Order. Rips or no rips, I don’t give a dang.” He spit into his cup again.
My face tightened. “It’s not about the rips, or the mages. It’s about an innocent, troubled person who will be murdered at the hands of people who should have prevented the disaster in the first place.”
“Yer brother, yep. By all accounts, he is the one who can seal it all up.”
The back of my neck heated as agitation prickled through me. “You think it’s fine, then, to kill someone to atone for sins he didn’t commit? You think murder is justified?”
He waved a hand. “Justified or not, it ain’t my business.”
“Why? Because you can just carry on out here in the wilderness regardless? Because it doesn’t affect you?” My voice strained as I tried to keep it under control.
But my hands were shaking with pent-up anger. Why was everyone so damn fine with murdering my brother? So casual about ending the life of someone who’d never even had a chance at a normal existence in his nearly twenty years?
“Because I chose long ago to break with the mages,” he said. “And the only reason I’m still here is that I’ve kept to myself.”
“Fine,” I said, my patience thinned down to nothing. “Hope you enjoy your self-preservation.”
I turned on my heel and was poised with my hand on the door when the air in the room changed. The crackle of magic at my back, like an electric wind, made me turn.
There, in the middle of Switchboard’s one-room cabin, a thin, black vertical line loomed nearly floor to ceiling. It widened like a giant slit of a cat’s pupil in the dark, and neon blue wisps of magic licked out around the edges.
My breath stilled as the rip grew to fill half the cabin. Something glimmered beyond it, many-colored twinkles like fairy lights. Hot air buffeted toward me, blowing back my hair, and the scent of sulfurous flame filled my nose. Loki came to stand at my side, his hackles up.
“Don’t you want to see what else I might have to offer you?” a voice from within asked.
I caught a glimpse of sparkling crystals and knew exactly what awaited me. I swallowed hard and strode toward the tear between dimensions. It was only when I stood right at the edge of the rip that I realized Switch was no longer in the cabin.
Pulling my arms in against my sides and ducking my head, I stepped through the rip.
Chapter 13
AS SOON AS I stepped into the enormous cavern, I knew exactly where I was: the crystal cave where I’d met the dragon oracle.
The dragon itself hadn’t fully materialized yet, but the rip through which it would emerge had already formed. I licked my dry lips and glanced around at the thousands of glittering crystals that decorated the walls and ceiling. Just like standing in the middle of a geode, with each pointed gem lit from within. Before, I’d been filled with wonder at the sight, but now it struck me just how horribly all those points could tear a person up. Like thousands of pretty knives just waiting to rip flesh.
Loki had come through with me, and hellfire danced bright and orange in his eyes. He seemed excited, and when his coat darkened and grew bristly, I knew he was on the verge of transforming into his huge, black hellhound form.
I squinted into the dark void of the rip that was opening up ahead. I sensed a large form on the other side and thought I saw the darker silhouette of the huge beast.
“Ella Grey,” the voice of the dragon intoned, so deep the ground vibrated a little.
“Uh, yes,” I said. “Hi. I’m not sure how—”
“How you came to be here in my presence?” the dragon interrupted.
“Yeah.”
I held my breath as the creature stepped through like some great winged dinosaur. I recalled the other times I’d stood before the oracle and suddenly remembered something.
Shit.
I had no offering. The oracle liked sparkly trinkets, but I didn’t have anything to give. It wasn’t my fault I’d shown up empty-handed. I hadn’t expected to be there. But the dragon could be cranky, and probably wouldn’t be interested in excuses. I’d just have to hope he didn’t demand a gift.
“You don’t recognize me?” the creature asked. It turned its serpentine head to the side to peer at me with one eye and snorted hot steam through its nostrils.
I squinted up at it in confusion.
“Yeah of course I do. I mean, we’ve met before,” I stammered. “You’re pretty hard to forget.”
Then the beast let out a cackle of a laugh, and something about it . . .
My eyes slowly widened. “Are you . . . Switch?”
The dragon made a little tee-hee, and some sulfurous sparks shot from its nose. “You really didn’t know before?”
I shook my head vehemently. “I had no idea.”
I couldn’t really even fathom what it meant. Was he using some sort of super-powered illusion magic? Was he actually part beast?
“This is why I can’t interfere,” it said. He—not it. That was Switch in there, hard as it was to believe. “Oracles may only be consulted about the moves; they may not participate in the game.”
Game? I tried to brush off the implication that my brother’s life was just part of some grand amusement.
“You may ask a question,” he said with a magnanimous air.
I didn’t need sessions with oracles. I needed power. What I needed was a fricking mage on my side. Even better, an army of them. But this was what he was offering, and he seemed to think it might be useful to me.
I took in a slow breath and closed my eyes briefly, pushing away my irritation and focusing on the opportunity that was being presented. The image of Evan’s face floated through my mind’s eye. Not the emaciated drug addict he’d become, but the way he looked when he was a child. His laughing eyes on his eighth birthday when we’d rented a hotel room for a night in the middle of winter so he could swim in a heated pool. It was a huge luxury, and my mother, grandmother, and I had scraped money together for months to make it happen. But watching him splash and swim, it’d been worth the sacrifice. He’d had the capacity for happiness, once.
I opened my eyes and faced the dragon. “What do I need to know or understand in order to keep my brother from being murdered by the mages, Jacob Gregori, or anyone else who might want to sacrifice him to close the rips?” I asked.
I braced myself for an outburst. The oracle didn’t like it if you asked the “wrong” question. But the anger didn’t come. Perhaps I was getting better at this.
“I have three responses to give you, Ella Grey.” The dragon paused, it seemed, for dramatic effect. It worked. I stood there holding my breath. “One, you can’t do this alone. You and your hellhound aren’t enough. Two, you’ll need an adversary to become an ally, or y
ou don’t stand a chance. And three, the demonic rips must be closed. It’s time. But someone will die to accomplish this end.”
As he’d spoken, his head had moved slowly down and forward toward me, weaving slightly back and forth like a snake’s. His words seemed to echo around in the cavern as the dragon and I faced each other, his huge snout only a few feet from my face.
Gold flakes crusted the creature’s scales, giving him a metallic shimmer, and fire blazed in his eyes. I wondered how long Switchboard had been a dragon, and if there were others like him. Whether he’d been born an oracle or had come into it later in life. How many people had stood before him, seeking answers. How many he’d killed in a fiery rage.
But none of that was important. Switchboard had given me all he was willing to give. I had to move on.
“Godspeed, Ella Grey,” the oracle whispered to me.
The whoosh of a sudden wind from behind blew my hair forward around my face. I pushed it away and whirled around to find a rip forming. My exit. When I looked back over my shoulder, the oracle was retreating through his own rip.
Loki trotted ahead of me and gracefully leaped through the opening. He hadn’t gone full hellhound, and I was grateful. I didn’t believe he would hurt me, but it made me jumpy to see him as a giant black dog with fiery eyes and brimstone breath.
We got dumped back out into Switchboard’s cabin. The fire still crackled in the hearth, and everything else looked the same. Switch wasn’t there, and somehow I knew he wouldn’t show up again while we remained. He wasn’t much of a host.
“C’mon boy,” I said. “Let’s get back home and figure out what’s next.”
I went to the sink and pulled out the cleanest of the bowls piled there. Working the pump handle faucet, I managed to fill it with a couple inches of water. Loki and I faded to the in-between and then home to the kitchen, where I always left a bowl of water on the counter to use for this purpose, just in case the water in the sink drained while I was away.
Back in the apartment, I made a sandwich to quiet my growling stomach, and while I ate, I flipped through the research papers I’d downloaded.
