nancy werlock's diary s01 - episodes 1-7

by Julie Ann Dawson

  “Evoker Geoffrey says it has reverted to the Gizmo variety.”

  “Gizmo! Seriously?”

  “You do realize that you are a complete geek, right?”

  “You say that like it is a bad thing. The fact that I’m a geek is probably the only reason I haven’t gone batshit crazy since all this started with my mom. I’ve been inoculated against supernatural psychosis by video games and anime. So what are they doing with Gizmo?”

  “They are trying to see if it can be trained to be a good gremlin instead of a bad gremlin by using rewards and punishments.”

  “So they’re taking care of him, right?”

  “I’ll check with Evoker Geoffrey to see if you can visit.”

  “Cool!”

  “You’re so weird.” I take a bite of my dinner and review the quote again. “I think you’re right. It’s a no-brainer. I’m probably still going to need another part-time person during shop hours, however. Anastasia goes back to school next week and I’ll have to cut her down to part time.”

  “Why don’t you put an ad on WitchNet? Wouldn’t it make sense to have an actual witch working the counter? Then we wouldn’t have to worry about a normal person listening in on your phone calls or overhearing something they aren’t supposed to.”

  “I don’t want to end up with a damn fairy princess.”

  “A fairy princess?”

  “Anastasia with real powers, no filter, and no discipline.”

  “Got it. Yep. Don’t want that. What about an exchange student?”

  “A what?”

  “There was something on WitchNet the other day about exchange students looking for placement. Established apprentices who are looking to expand their education by studying outside their home country.”

  “That’s a thought. I can check with the Archmage see if he knows anything about the programs.”

  August 31st

  “I rather suspect people would be tripping over each other for a chance to study under a Rank Two Demonologist,” says Archmage Lawrence. “But I’m surprised you are interested in an exchange student, Nancy. I would think you already have your hands full.”

  “To be honest, I do have my hands full. But I figured I have to hire a new employee anyway. It makes more sense to hire someone who I can speak freely around in the shop. Not only would the student have the chance to learn about the craft, but also get some practical business skills.”

  “I agree. Apprenticeships aren’t what they used to be, I’m afraid. All these kids today want the rank and the title, but don’t want to put in any effort. Fireballs and demon-summoning are all well and good, but unless you can figure out how to pay the bills with them you’re out of luck.”

  “So do you know a lot about the exchange program?”

  “Oh, yes. I volunteer as the regional administrator in fact. I help with the placement and I often take in students myself. It’s challenging but rewarding. It’s also the sort of thing the Council likes to see from those of us with rank. Not that you care one bit about such things. But consider it a pleasant bonus.”

  Talk of the Council reminds me of the fact that I still haven’t heard anything about the report I filed with the College of Divinities regarding the murder of Houston’s mother by the Lord Advocate of the Eighth of the Nine. “I like bonuses.”

  “I have some applications in the office, in fact. Follow me.”

  I follow Archmage Lawrence to his office, where he produces a dozen files on potential exchange students. Three of them are from the College of Psionics. I push those aside. I have enough psion drama.

  One is a Russian student from the College of Witchery. His application has no mention of his rank or the rank of his mentor. That’s not unusual for them. The College of Witchery is comprised of a hodge-podge of shamanistic and indigenous mystical practitioners who are members of the greater magical community in the loosest sense. The applicant seems more interested in something that will allow him to interact with the Lenni Lenape in the area. He even mentions Red Turtle.

  “Doesn’t it seem odd that this one knows this much about the adept community in this area?” I ask the Archmage.

  “I was a bit concerned about his reference to the cairn as well.”

  I push the Russian student’s file aside. There are two Necromancer students. The Archmage already has notes on them regarding potential placements so I put those aside as well. There is a Cryptologist from Berlin that looks promising, but the Archmage says he was trying to get Evoker Geoffrey to consider that one since they are studying the gremlin. I start a ‘possible’ pile in case he declined. There is an Elementalist from Tokyo, a Mesmer from Paris, and an Artificer from Vienna. But nothing about their applications jumps out at me. There is a Technomancer from Spain that looks promising and goes in the ‘possible’ pile.

  The last applicant is a Traveler from London. He’s specifically expressed interest in working with a Demonologist who can teach him infernal and abyssal. I point at the application expectantly for an explanation from the Archmage.

  His mentor is Gregor Von Felser, a Rank Three Traveler who, from what I understand, plans to travel to the Styx as part of his Rank Two trials.”

  “The Styx? Is he mad?”

  “He’s a Traveler. Do you really need to ask that?”

  Travelers are a school within the College of Transmutation that specializes in teleportation and planar travel. While many witches can learn rituals to astral project into the spirit realm, Travelers master magic that allow them to transverse other planes in their mortal forms. Of course, since these other planes aren’t really hospitable to humans, this is rather dangerous even if traveling to a benign realm.

  “The Styx. How close is he to even attempting that?”

  “No idea. From what I understand the trial hasn’t even been approved yet. His apprentice may simply be on a fact-finding assignment.”

  “I hope he isn’t planning on talking his apprentice with him!”

  The Archmage shrugs. “They’re Travelers. I have no idea what he’s planning. Maybe you could take that one and talk some sense into him?”

  “He’s the same age as Houston. Has a degree in business administration. Speaks Latin already. On pace to take his Rank Four trial next year. Hopefully then he’ll go off on his own instead of following his mentor to the mouth of Hell.”

  “One can hope.”

  “Can I interview them first?” I push the Traveler and the Technomancer files toward Archmage Lawrence. “And if Evoker Geoffrey decides not to take the Cryptologist I’d be interested in interviewing him as well.”

  “I can get these set up for next week. We can use the video-conferencing equipment. I would suggest having your apprentice attend as well, since he’ll be dealing with the student just as much, if not more, than you.”

  September 5th

  “I don’t like him,” says Houston as soon as we log off the video interview with Miguel Cordez, the Technomancer applicant.

  “Why don’t you like him? He seemed very knowledgeable.”

  “Exactly. He’s a know-it-all who thinks he’s doing you a favor by considering you as his host.”

  “I think you might be reading more into it than there actually was.”

  Houston feigns a swagger and leans forward as he fakes a Spanish accent. “I can assure you, Madame Warlock, you will be hard-pressed to find someone with my exceptional skill set as eager to work with you.”

  “He was a bit over-the-top.”

  “A bit over-the-top? He went over the top, down the hill, and crashed in the gully. I don’t like him.”

  “You didn’t like Henri either.” Henri, the Cryptologist, was declined by Evoker Geoffrey, who claimed he was already too busy with his own apprentices and the research into the Thought-Beast to deal with another student.

  “Yeah, Mr. ‘I speak a dozen languages and have three degrees is areas of science normal people can’t pronounce.’”

  “Houston, what is it that is really bo
thering you?”

  “Nothing is bothering me. You asked me to sit in on these interviews and give my opinion.”

  “You know, this was your idea, remember?”

  “It was my idea. But we don’t need to jump on the first applicants, right? Particularly a bunch of know-it-alls.” He sits back in his chair and folds his arms. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “That psychologist look you do.”

  “I didn’t realize that was a specific look.”

  “It is. It’s like your psychoanalyzing me with your eyes.”

  “I can get Janice to undress you with her eyes instead.”

  “It’s a good thing your pal doesn’t have x-ray vision or I’d have to walk around in lead underwear.”

  I shake my head. “Fine, so what type of person should we be looking for?”

  “I was figuring someone like Anastasia’s age or a little older. Someone who I could actually help teach something to and be productive. Maybe. Instead of some brainiac who is gonna come in and act like they already know what’s what.”

  “I see. So why didn’t you go to college?”

  “See, you’re doing it. You’re being a doctor, again. You asked me a question and flipped it around on me.” He looks away from me. “And me not liking those guys has nothing to do with what you are thinking.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking because I have my Iron Wall up.”

  “I can read your face even if I can’t read your mind. You think I’m jealous of those guys.”

  “Are you?”

  “Will you stop it!? Please.” He gets up out of his seat and starts to pace. “Maybe. I don’t know. You know, it’s like, when we were sitting in that meeting a while back and the Chancellors were there and the Archmage and you guys were all rambling on in Latin and talking about all this high level stuff, I was fine with not being able to follow along because you guys were all old and...”

  “Old?”

  “Well, not you. You’re not. You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman who is smarter than her years. Please don’t kill me.”

  I start laughing. “What are you getting at?”

  “These guys are my age. And they are so beyond me in smarts and knowing what is going on with things and it’s like they’re going to roll up in here and just...I don’t know. Show me up.”

  “Show you up? Thank the gods there aren't any pride demons nearby.” Houston just sulks against the wall with his head down. “Houston, do you know how rare it is for someone your age to hold dual ranks? Particularly in the short time you’ve been practicing? You’re looking at this all wrong. These guys have been apprentices since they were fourteen or fifteen years old. Henri just took his Rank Five trial last year! You became my apprentice in April!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Then why does it seem like they know so much more than me?”

  “They have book smarts. They have the academics down. You have raw talent.”

  “Yeah, talent that isn't even mine. My mother imprinted it on me.”

  “No, it is your talent. Your mother may have jump-started you, but you are the one who chose to develop it. You are the one casually mind-scanning demons and standing by me against the Dread Aura when any other Rank Five would have ran screaming like a little kid. Your mother imprinted on you, but you made the decision to follow through with it. It is your gift. And you are a damn prodigy.”

  He finally looks up at me and grins. “And I am much better looking than them, too.”

  I shake my head. “You are incorrigible.”

  There is a quick rapping on the door. Before I can answer it, the door cracks open. “Sorry, I’m looking for Nancy Werlock?” says the young man. Despite the sunglasses, I recognize him from his file photo.

  “Eric?” I get up from the desk and greet him. “I’m Nancy.”

  His jaw gapes open as he shakes my hand. “Really? Well, it is my pleasure.”

  “It’s a good thing you aren’t a psion,” says Houston telepathically.

  “Get out of his head!” I reply as I gesture for Eric to take a seat. “I didn’t realize you were in the States. I thought you would be calling into the teleconference.”

  “He’s reaaalllyyy happy to see you.”

  “Enough!”

  “I’m afraid I’m not the best with the gadgets and such. It was easier for me to just jump across the pond and be here personally. I hope that is acceptable?”

  “Jump? You mean, teleported?” Eric nods. “You teleported from London to the guild hall?”

  “I can’t teleport to locations I never visited. But I have a mate with a flat in the Big Apple I visit on holiday. So I teleported there then took the train.”

  “That’s still one Hell of a jump,” says Houston.

  “Forgive me, Mate. I’ve been rude. You’re Houston, right? Fair bit of gossip about you on the WitchNet. Pleasure to meet you. Say, you aren’t…ah…not to offend…but…”

  “She already yelled at me to stop reading your mind.”

  “That’s…that’s quite the trick. I’ve met a few psions before but I was always able to tell when they tried to do that.” Eric involuntarily shudders. “Quite the trick.”

  “He won’t do it again, Eric,” I say.

  “I’m sorry,” says Houston.

  “Apology accepted, mate. No harm done. At least, I hope not.”

  “So, Eric,” I say as I point to his sunglasses. “Do we need to turn the lights down?”

  “No, thank you. The long jumps make my eyes a bit sensitive to the light. It takes a while for the pupils to adjust. I haven’t been doing the long jumps very long.”

  “Ah, I understand.” I open up his file. “I see you took your Rank Five trials two years ago. And you completed an exchange program last summer with the College of Divinities.”

  “Yes, I studied under Sage Daniel Mardalucco. I believe a copy of his recommendation letter should be in my file.”

  “What made you want to study Restoration magic?”

  “My mentor, Gregor, is getting a bit on in years. And his sense of balance isn’t what it used to be. We would be practicing a jump and get to the other side and he would end up with a sprained ankle or twist his knee. He’s always been a bit clumsy. Mentally, he is sharp as they come. I don’t want you to think I’m speaking ill of him. But he isn’t as spry as he was.”

  “So you decided to learn a little restoration magic to keep him patched up?”

  “It also seemed prudent. If a jump goes sideways and you end up in the wilds of Nambia instead of downtown Paris, being able to tend your own wounds is a good skill.”

  “Does that happen often?” asks Houston.

  “Teleportation is like any other magic. Things can go pear-shaped in an instant. Only ever happened to me once, though. I was late for class so decided to jump instead of taking the trolley. Ended up in the dressing room at an all-girls school in Coventry.”

  “Nice,” says Houston. I give him a stern look. He gives me an exaggerated shrug.

  “It says here that your father is an Alchemist? Why did you choose to study Conjuration instead of Transmutation?”

  Eric looks down at the table and rubs the back of his neck. “When I was nine, Dad blew himself up during his Rank Three trials.”

  “Eric, I’m sorry. It didn’t say your father was dead in your file.”

  “No need to apologize. He did it to himself. He was doing something with uranium. I think he was working on a way to transmute radioactive material to gasoline or some such. But after that, I didn’t want anything to do with transmutation. Mum…she doesn’t have any talent. She thought it best to send me to the Nexus for training.”

  “He’s not telling us something,” thinks Houston. “It’s all over his aura.”

  “When was the last time you talked to your mother?” I ask.

  “It’s been a bit. She operates a dance studio. She’s…she’s very busy with that.”

  “ Travel
er Von Felser is planning a trip to the mouth of the River Styx.”

  “Indeed. It was his idea that I might benefit from study under a Demonologist. Understanding a bit on the nature of various demons and the infernal language and such.”

  “So, it is your intention to join him on this trip?”

  “Can we speak confidentially?” I nod. “To be honest, Gregor’s a fine teacher but he’s off his chump with this whole business.”

  “You don’t think he can pull it off?” asks Houston.

  “It isn’t that. You won’t find a bloke more skilled at the technical aspects of teleportation. If it was just a matter of a quick jump for a photo op and back home, I wouldn’t be concerned. But his interpersonal skills…let’s just say he can’t walk into a pub without three people wanting to punch him within the first fifteen minutes. Doesn’t have much of a filter. Verbalizes his internal monologues. You wouldn’t have to read his mind to know what he is thinking because he always says it.”

  “Yeah, it’s one thing to misspeak around a drunk. It’s another to misspeak around a balor,” I say.

  “And the drunk will just punch you in the face. The balor would rip your face off and eat it from what I understand.”

  “You’re really worried about him,” says Houston.

  “I’ve been his apprentice since I was ten. He practically raised me. Of course I worry. I would think anyone would.”

  “But you still intend to help him?”

  “Truthfully? Madame Warlock, my intent is to talk him out of this fool’s errand. You are a Rank Two Warlock. Your grandmother was Magus of the School of Demonology at one time. Your words would carry a great deal of weight. I was hoping that if I obtained this position, you would use your influence to talk him down. Surely there are other, less life-threatening trials he could perform to achieve his rank! This will not end well for him. I just know it. I apologize. This is a dreadfully selfish reason to request this position.”

  “Eric, I think you may be overestimating my ability to influence people.”