by John Conroe
“Yeah, what is it?” the sheriff asked.
“Obfuscation spell,” Declan said, looking around the entryway. “Creates confusion and dread. Sometimes called a Keep Away spell.”
He looked around the entryway. Suddenly, he squatted down and poked around behind a nice-looking vase stand. Standing back up, he held a wispy wad of old cobweb, complete with dead spiders on it, wrapped around a set of twigs that were woven together to form almost a star. “Clever. Crude, but clever,” he said. After another look around, he found a second and third bundle on the opposite side of the hallway. He held them up to his face and breathed on them, whispering a word that even Stacia’s hearing couldn’t pick up. The room seemed to brighten and the air lifted and freshened.
“They say you’re always three feet from a spider,” Declan said, looking at the wads of cobweb, twigs, and dead arachnids. “They hide everywhere and in plain sight. The witch used them as a base for her spell. A symbol for being hidden in plain sight. It would have covered their approach,” he said. “Then she left them behind to mess with you and your guys, Sheriff.”
The twigs, cobwebs and spiders in his hand suddenly flared up into flame and a tiny wisp of smoke and then were gone. Declan dusted off his palm and walked further into the building. The sheriff and Buck exchanged raised eyebrow glances before turning to Stacia, who just smiled before following Declan.
She found him by the main condo sales office, which was exactly where the old factory office had once functioned. A man in dark blue battle dress sat in a desk chair, body slack, head lolling in a way that left no doubt that he was dead. The old money room safe door stood open, with no signs of damage or having been forced. Declan was examining the dead DOAA agent.
“She pulled all the air out of his lungs. He suffocated,” he said. “She’s an Air witch. Strong, too.”
“She just yanked the air he was breathing out of his chest? Witches can do that?” Buck asked, appalled.
“A strong Air witch can. Most can’t. She’s got power, but she’s a little crude. The cobweb thing was likely self-taught. There are much, much better ways to build an obfuscation spell. Hers worked well enough, though. They basically blocked this guy from knowing they were approaching, and then she suffocated him,” Declan said.
“That’s horrible,” Buck said.
“Maybe. Worse ways to die, though. Like getting your head torn off by an angry werewolf,” Declan said.
“I don’t know. That might be quicker. Suffocation takes a few seconds at least. Decapitation is almost instant,” Stacia argued.
Declan considered her argument for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe you’re right,” he said before walking over to the computer equipment. The sound of boots on tile sounded before Adler and his agent Spencer came in behind them.
“The alpha werewolf has a witch. She clouded—” Buck started to explain to the federal agents but turned to Declan at the word clouded. Declan nodded in agreement, so the deputy continued on, “—your agent’s mind to block their arrival. Then she sucked all the air out of his lungs and he asphyxiated. From there, they simply unbolted the safe door, which wasn’t locked, and took the prisoner. Her spell was the reason we were having trouble processing the scene.”
“Her spell didn’t work on the camera equipment, though,” Declan said from over by the computers. He’d been there about three seconds, yet he already had images of the breakout up on the screen. “Like I said, her Crafting is crude.”
“But powerful,” Stacia added.
“Yeah, she is that,” Declan agreed, thoughtful.
“Is she stronger than you?” Adler asked, eyes interested.
Declan didn’t answer right away, studying the agent’s expression with a frown.
“I doubt it, but she has a different element or possibly elements from mine,” he said.
“How do you know? That she’s not stronger?” Adler pressed.
“I don’t. Hence my use of the word doubt,” Declan said.
“How likely is it?” Grable asked.
Stacia snorted, her face showing exactly how low she considered that possibility.
“Passably low,” Declan answered, glancing over his shoulder from where he was looking at the computer.
“Hey! Don’t touch anything—this is an active crime scene,” the female tech who’d been outside said from the doorway. She was looking at Declan, but she looked genuinely bewildered by all the people now on scene.
“I haven’t. I’m not stupid, you know,” he said, still looking at the screen. The security footage rolled across the screen, stopping and fast-forwarding although Declan wasn’t touching the mouse or the keyboard.
“What are you doing? Sheriff, we haven’t processed that desk yet,” the woman protested, eye going wide.
“Sarah, you wouldn’t be able to stand in this room if he hadn’t done whatever he did,” the sheriff said, although his tone sounded uncertain as he watched Declan watch the moving, shifting screen.
“He doesn’t have much use for keyboards, Sheriff,” Stacia said as she prowled the room and the vault, sniffing. “I’m not sure he remembers how to type.”
“Found them,” Declan said, the monitor freezing on a picture. Adler, Spencer, Buck, Grable, and Stacia all moved over to look. Even the suspicious crime scene tech, Sarah, leaned around to see.
A tall, rugged-looking man with a beard and motorcycle leathers crouched behind the guard in the chair, holding the man’s hands without apparent effort. The guard’s eyes were wide open and terrified. A really young-looking girl was leaning over the guard, her back to the camera, wafting a hand in front of his mouth.
“She’s just a child… fifteen or sixteen, maybe,” Stacia said.
Declan waved one hand casually and the video rolled forward at normal speed. The girl moved her hand and the guard’s body arched up in the chair, his eyes going beyond terrified, his feet kicking wildly. Ten seconds later, his eyes closed and he slumped down. Fifteen seconds more and his body stilled completely. The bearded man looked up at the camera and offered a feral grin.
“I don’t care how old she is. She’s a killer,” Adler said, voice tight with emotion.
“Not a very adept one, though,” Declan said, still focused on the monitor. The others all looked at him in question.
He looked up, sensing the stares. “He’s coaching her, holding the victim and encouraging her. Look—” he said, waving his hand, which appeared to cause the video to back up a bit. “See, still not touching anything,” he said with a grin to Sarah, whose mouth was hanging open in horror at the video and maybe even more horror at his obvious abilities.
“Okay, watch. He’s talking to her and she’s taking a long time to get it done. One of the Air witches at Arcane would just yank all the air out of his lungs with one gesture, probably collapsing them at the same time. The way she’s doing it is actually worse, but I think that’s not her intention. See… she’s shaking,” Declan said.
“The witches at Arcane could do that? They practice that?” Adler asked, appalled.
“We take a survival class that teaches us to use our abilities to the utmost. There are some CPR dummies that work well enough,” Declan said.
“But they don’t try it on living people, right?” Adler asked.
“One of them tried it on my roommate’s sister, trying to scare her, I think,” Declan said. “But Jetta was protected and it didn’t work. She then beat the shit out of Erika.”
“I would think Erika would seek revenge?” Stacia asked, mildly interested.
“She would have,” Declan said. “I told her not to.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
“And she listened?” Grable asked.
“I had her pinned to the ceiling while we chatted. She got the point pretty clearly. Not a stupid girl. Just mean and more than a little petty,” Declan answered.
“You said the girl was protected—how?” Adler asked.
“A warded amulet,” Declan said as Stacia fished h
ers out of her shirt and held it up for the others to see.
“You made that?” Adler asked, moving closer for a better look. Stacia frowned and tucked it away. “I want you to make more for my men and myself,” Adler commanded.
“Yeah, not gonna happen. That one there is one of a kind. Took days to make. Keyed specifically to Stacia. The others I make take a while as well,” Declan said, his expression calm in the face of Adler’s sudden glare. “I could make some field expedient ones. They’ll be one-shots though. Protect from one spell or trap, then poof… all used up.”
“Would they stop what she did from hurting our men?” Sheriff Grable asked.
“I’d say yes. But they wouldn’t help against the werewolves who’d be breaking their necks or tearing their insides out,” Declan answered. “Or multiple spells.”
“We’ll handle the werewolves,” Adler said.
“There’s an old saying among witches, Agent. Never attack a witch in her own home,” Declan said.
“What does that mean?” Spencer asked.
“It means that witches like to ward and booby trap the bejesus outta their own places. It’s almost a genetic trait, I think,” Stacia said.
Declan was nodding. “That’s possibly true. Magic works best if prepared in advance. The witches alive today are the descendants of people who were hunted by the Inquisition, by the church and state and by each other, as well as other supernaturals. We have this… drive to protect our homes. This girl, as young as she is, will have prepared her home as thoroughly as possible. One-shot wards aren’t going to help much against multiple layers of defenses.”
“So what do we do?” Grable asked.
“First, we find their lair. Second, we gather intel, which means Stacia and I will have to scout it. Then we prepare active countermeasures and employ as much force as possible, in waves and from distance before closing with them. Funnel them into a kill zone. Long range snipers, our own booby traps, and maybe even that Apache you’re illegally using,” Declan said.
“Kill zone? Shit, you sound like my old company commander,” Buck said, eyebrows lifted.
“Demidova Corp’s fault. He spent his summer interning there, and all the security guys are ex-military. They may have corrupted him. Actually, I’m sure they corrupted him,” Stacia said.
“But what about the kid witch?” Grable asked.
“One, she is really young, but Agent Adler is correct. She’s now a killer and very, very dangerous. Two, all the remaining werewolves are likely blooded as well. Probably why the Alpha let them kill those two guys. So, I’ll handle her. Stacia will guard me from weres and the two of us will clear the way in while you guys set up the kill zone. I’m not saying you have to kill them, but it’ll be their choice,” Declan said.
“That’s incredibly dangerous, and you are both essentially civilians,” Grable said.
“Technically, anyone not in the actual military is a civilian, so that includes you guys, too. Yes, you all have extensive training, but so do we. And ours is expressly in the art of dealing with lethal supernatural threats. Seven werewolves attacked that hunting lodge and because of Stacia, four were neutralized and three wisely ran away. Yeah, she had help, but she organized that help and directed their actions.”
“How do you know that?” Buck asked. “You only arrived like ten minutes ago.”
“And how did you know we have an Apache on site?” Adler asked, suspicious.
“You should chat with the NSA, Agent Adler. They would be surprised if I didn’t know all that,” Declan responded. “Now, how are we going to track down these two and their band of misfit killers?”
“With good old-fashioned police work,” Buck said. “We’ll print out photos of that man and go door to door through Fetter and even here in Dover-Foxcroft, if necessary, to see who has seen him, where they saw him and when, then correlate the sightings. Unless you have some fancy new way to find them?”
“New? Try old. Very old. But I like your method, too,” Declan said.
Chapter 21
“Are you alright?” Stacia asked Declan as they headed back to the sheriff’s station next door.
“Yeah, why? Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he asked.
“You acted a bit uncertain about that kid witch. What’s the deal? There can’t be three other witches on the planet with your kind of power, and you told me you still remember all of Sorrow’s spells,” she said.
He frowned, slowed down, and then stopped. “You’re right. It’s just we’re way up here in the great far north. I’ve gotten used to heavy traffic and cement jungles,” he said.
She was puzzled. Then the light broke through. “You borrow, steal, or redirect power from other sources. You’re worried about not having sources?” she guessed.
“Up here, there are trees, wind, rivers, and cold. Not too useful to an Earth and Fire witch. I haven’t had to live off just my reserves in a long time. Not since New Hampshire and that witch that locked me in the missile silo,” he said, a bit hesitant.
Of course he wouldn’t ever want to appear weak in front of her. That made her both sad that he wasn’t confident in her and a little warm that he held her in that regard.
“So summer in the city is big power, but fall in the wilderness and you’re worried,” she stated. He nodded. “Earth witch,” she said pointing at him, then waved her hand at the tree line around the town. “Earth forest. You can’t tell me that an Earth witch can’t draw power from trees like those?”
He frowned. “Well, I do draw power from the rowan tree at home. I just never applied it to the whole forest before. I’ve always had trucks and cars, towns and cities. This town is tiny, and I get the feeling the one we’re headed to is even smaller,” he said.
“Fetter is a postage stamp. Blink and its gone. Listen, I know you’ve been taught to prepare, so prepare. Build up your arsenal like any normal witch and stop relying on the luxury of having unlimited access to power. And maybe the tree thing works like that solar charger you bought me. Trickles power into your witchy batteries or something. Also, it’s fall. All the houses and buildings in Fetter are running woodstoves or some form of heat. Use that,” she suggested.
Sound advice, Father.
His hand came up to his earpiece even as his eyes locked on hers. He knew she’d heard it.
“Father? You got something to tell me? You a teen daddy?” she asked.
He took a breath and nodded. “This isn’t the ideal place, but what the hell. That’s Omega, the quantum computer. He’s… fully sentient. He was born that night when Anvil attacked.”
“He?” she asked.
“He took the form of a baby boy, then a young boy, or maybe that’s just how my mind interpreted him. I don’t know. He doesn’t know. When I was connected to the quantum structure and the operating system was starting to boot up, Anvil attacked, attempting to take it over. Sorrow and I fought it off as best we could. Chris’s dopplegheist then attacked Anvil with waves of whatever angelic power he wields. Sorrow joined with the fledgling computer, and Omega was born,” Declan said.
“Why Omega?” she asked.
“He won’t allow any other quantum computers to come to fruition. The threat to humanity is too great,” he said. “He’s the first and last.”
“The threat to humanity or to you?” she asked.
“He is sorta protective.”
“You know I haven’t hit a red light in months, except one that delayed me long enough to miss a major accident. My phone and laptop never act up anymore, software updates load themselves, and I haven’t come close to using up my data limit since… since this past summer,” she said.
“He keeps an eye on you, too. Actually, all the team members, and a number of others as well.”
“So I don’t follow all this stuff, but I know from what Chet and Tanya have said that he doesn’t just talk with them,” she said.
“No, he only talks with me… and now you. We didn’t want to freak people out. They
might get scared.”
“Because a quantum super computer that’s sentient isn’t at all scary?” she asked.
“Neither is a beautiful girl who turns into a seven-foot-tall killing machine or a college kid that can set off an earthquake,” he pointed out.
“Set off an earthquake?” she asked, mildly appalled.
“I’ve never done it,” he said, defensively. “It just seems like I could.”
Without question, Father. Especially along fault lines which you can feel.
She looked at him with one raised eyebrow. He shrugged. Of course… nothing but a thing for him. She shook her head.
“So Omega is more powerful than other supercomputers? How about that IBM one? Watson?” she asked.
