Tales from the Magitech Lounge

by Saje Williams

  “This place has rats,” Steph replied. “Lots of them.”

  “Big surprise,” I drawled. “Anything else?”

  “Hold on,” she said, crouching next to a large crack in one of the cells. A moment later a huge rat crawled out and stood on its hind legs, peering up at her unblinkingly. “You had visitors,” she announced.

  “Impossible. No one can get in and out of here without permission.”

  “Someone did,” she answered back. “Rats aren’t good at details—all they know is a bunch of two-legs went through here, dragging another, unconscious two-legs.”

  I felt a sudden chill. Why I believed a bunch of rats I can’t say, but at that moment, I did. The problem is that Storm should’ve been able to take on just about any mortal or group of mortals that he may have faced.

  None of this made any sense. I’m a scientist—I don’t like it when things aren’t rational. I don’t like it at all.

  I turned my gaze on Boneyard, who raised his eyebrows and stared back. “I’m a panther, not a goddam dog,” he said. “My animus is a sight hunter…my sense of smell is somewhat better than a human’s, but if you want a tracker-beast, you need a werewolf or coyote or something.”

  Now he tells me. I hadn’t even thought of that and I should’ve known ahead of time. “Anyone else?”

  “Besides, I have no experience in tracking. I do know a werewolf who does,” Bone cut back in, before anyone else could say anything. “I could contact him and see if he’d be interested in helping.”

  I nodded. Again, something else I should’ve considered. Vampires have highly developed senses as well, but I can’t track using my sense of smell alone. It’s a particular skill-set and one I don’t have.

  “Well, I’d say this is confirmation of the rat’s story,” Hades said, pointing at the floor some distance down the corridor. “Multiple tracks in the dust, plus something that might be someone’s feet being dragged along the floor.”

  I walked over to take a look. “Nice catch, Hades,” I told him, with a grateful nod.

  “Well, if we need a dog, I can have mine here in a second or two,” Hades murmured.

  I pretended I hadn’t heard him. A miniature pincer is not a bloodhound. Imagine that.

  “Does it seem odd to you that they could take Stormchild down and yet can’t carry him without dragging his feet on the floor?” This from Hydra’s Abyssian girlfriend. “Is it just me, or do these prints look a little small?”

  I hadn’t thought about it, but I compared one of the sets to my own shoeprint and frowned. “You’re right.” It wasn’t a lot smaller than mine, but I have small feet.

  “Not one of us is trained in this sort of thing,” Hades pointed out. “We could use a skilled investigator.”

  “Coincidentally,” Boneyard murmured, “the werewolf I mentioned earlier is a bounty hunter.”

  That was enough for me. “Call him. If he wants in, I’ll go get him.”

  The were-panther nodded and strolled into an open cell down the block a fair distance. We waited in silence as he made his call, all of us eyeing the tracks curiously.

  “I’m starting to get an idea,” Hades said, breaking into the quiet. “You’re not going to like it.”

  The warning was enough for me not to like it already. “Go for it,” I growled.

  He shrugged. “I think it was goblins.”

  “What? Why in the hell would goblins kidnap Stormchild? And how would they be able to take him on in the first place? It’s not as if there are any lightning-scorched goblin corpses lying around.”

  “I don’t know why,” he said, “but keep in mind that some goblins are tough little buggers. It’s easy to underestimate them because of their size, but they’re not all weak…or stupid, for that matter.”

  “Okay. Still doesn’t answer the question of why they’d want to take him in the first place,” I told him. “Or haven’t you got to that part yet?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. Rumor has it, though, that Kali is working out of Starhaven now. It may be that some of them are getting a little independent now that she’s not looking over their shoulder constantly.”

  It’s important to remember here that Hades may have created the goblins, but it was Kali who took them under her wing—so to speak—and made them more than a mere burden to human society. Under her direction the goblins had become a fairly formidable force, at least economically. Goblins will perform jobs that no human would want to consider and do it cheaply. Now while this might stink of exploitation, it’s honestly difficult to exploit a goblin. Most people support anything that keeps them out of trouble. Goblins are drawn to trouble like kids to candy.

  You’ll have to take my word on that. “I take it a rat couldn’t tell the difference between a human and a goblin?” I asked Steph.

  She nodded. “All two-legs to them.”

  I looked over at Hades. “I take it you have no influence over them anymore?”

  “I gave up any influence I had a long time ago,” he replied with a wry grin.

  Then it struck me. It should have hit me earlier, but the distractions were coming fast and furious. “Dammit!” I threw out a transit tube and returned to the lab to find Quickfingers gone. The little rodent! There was no way for the goblins to have gotten here unless Quickfingers had brought them. He’d never allied himself with the goblins before, but I had no doubt he’d do so in a heartbeat if it suited his purposes. Whatever the hell they were.

  I let out a wordless scream and returned to the others. “I know how they got here,” I said in a low growl. “And when I get my hands on him…” I let my voice trail off. I wouldn’t be able to do anything to him, of course. The damned imp is immune to just about everything. Theory has it that a bath in a pool of sulfuric acid might do him in, but that would require somehow preventing him from teleporting or turning ethereal before you could throw him in.

  File that under very unlikely, if not downright impossible.

  I met Boneyard’s gaze. “Donovan has agreed to help,” he said, “but you’ll need to bring him here.”

  “I can do that. Tell him to wait for me at the Lounge.”

  He nodded. “Already done,” he said. “Give him about fifteen minutes.”

  I returned his nod. “Okay. In the meantime, let’s see if we can figure out where these tracks lead.”

  I wasn’t surprised to find they ended at a blank wall, at the back of one of the last cells on the block. I poked around some and muttered irritably when I couldn’t find any sign of a secret door out. If Quickfingers was involved, why would he have met them here?

  I still harbored suspicions, but I preferred proof before going to Quickfingers’s boss with them. I know Jasmine Tashae slightly, and while I’ll admit no fear of her, she’s known for being quite the badass. And loyal to her friends, which includes the little blue delinquent for some reason that completely escapes me.

  Oh, I’ll admit it. He’s likeable enough. Always cheerful, mostly helpful, and usually worth a laugh or two. But he’s totally untrustworthy. Maybe Jaz has a hold on him I don’t know about. She did create him, after all.

  I lifted my gaze to Boneyard, who nodded. It was time for me to flit back to the city. I drew down a three-strand sigil and jumped directly to the Lounge, stepping out onto the dance floor just as a pair of customers whirled past. Jack was behind the bar, I noted, and I took a couple steps in that direction before stopping and scanning the place.

  With all of us gone, the Lounge had attracted a large number of normals—or what appeared to be normals. They sat in groups of two to six, listening to Timothy and Hammad jam quietly up on stage, and otherwise carry on as if this were an ordinary club.

  I didn’t like it one bit.

  I was standing there, doing a slow circle on the edge of the dance floor, when a stranger approached me from where he’d sat alone in Jack’s usual booth in the corner. He was tall and slim, with long auburn hair, freckles, and, of all things, a pair
of spectacles perched on his face. No one wears glasses anymore. If laser surgery can’t fix problems with your eyesight, any decent mage-optometrist can.

  I expected him to ask me to dance, but found myself surprised when he asked, “Are you Rio?”

  I nodded, a little puzzled.

  “I’m Donovan. Boneyard asked me to meet you here.”

  This was a werewolf? Nearly every ‘thrope I’d ever met had been large and muscular. It has something to do with the conservation of mass. ‘Thropes are incredibly massive beings—their bones, muscles, and even their skin thicker and stronger than that of any mortal. This generally resulted in them being extremely bulky. There were exceptions of course. Were-weasels and other such ‘thropes didn’t tend to be that large, but this guy was allegedly a werewolf.

  I made a point of looking him up and down. He actually blushed, which I found even stranger than his slender build. “I gotta say,” I told him, “you don’t look like any werewolf I’ve ever seen.”

  He frowned. “I’m not. Bone must’ve gotten that detail wrong. I’m a were-fox.”

  Now that I could believe. But why had Bone said he was a werewolf? “I thought you two were friends.”

  “We are, as far as such things go,” Donovan answered. “But he’s a big cat and I’m a small canine. We don’t hunt together.”

  That made sense. “He says you’re a good tracker.”

  “I am. One of the best.” No need for false modesty here, I guess.

  “I need the best. You ready?”

  He nodded and I transported us back to Alcatraz.

  Donovan ducked into an empty cell a few doors down and shifted. A couple minutes later a medium-sized dog-like beast trotted out, regarding us with what could only be described as a curious look. He sniffed at the tracks and followed them to where they dead-ended, then abruptly switched back and followed them the other direction.

  I expected him to lead us to the quarters Storm and I share, but, instead, he took a staircase to a lower level and raced ahead, leaving the rest of us to bring up the rear.

  “That, my friend,” murmured Hades to Boneyard, “is not a wolf.”

  “I realize that,” the were-panther shot back. “So I got the kind of dog wrong. I knew he was some sort of canine.”

  “That’s like someone referring to you as a were-bobcat,” the immortal snorted. “But it’s some kind of cat.”

  “Not at all funny,” Bone snarled at him. “At least I made him sound more impressive rather than less impressive.”

  “I wasn’t after a tracker for his fighting ability,” I cut in. “Quit teasing him, Hades.”

  Ordinarily it probably wouldn’t have bothered me, but right now I was on edge. I was worried about Storm. It was crazy to think he may’ve been kidnapped by goblins, of all things, but that’s definitely what it was beginning to look like. I was still left wondering how they’d managed to take him. Storm’s a damn good fighter, can throw lightning, and like most immortals, is pretty much immune to most poisons and drugs.

  Not someone you expect to fall prey to some adventuring goblins. Donovan led us down a couple flights of stairs, stopping at each level to sniff around the door handle, then continued down. After the third, I looked over and saw Donovan and Bone exchange glances before the were-fox sat down on his haunches in front of the door. “That’s the way they went,” Bone murmured.

  I was frowning as I followed them through the door. Something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Why had it seemed as though the fox was taking his cues from Boneyard?

  We entered into something like pitch blackness, the level of light so low even my vampiric vision couldn’t help me. “Damn,” I muttered. “Anyone think to bring a light?”

  “Allow me.” I heard Hades’s voice in the darkness and suddenly he was bathed in a warm yellow glow that lit a stretch of tunnel some fifteen feet ahead of us.

  “Did they come through here?” I asked Donovan, watching to see if he glanced at Bone. He didn’t, but my suspicions had already been aroused and I was feeling less than generous with my trust at this point.

  The were-fox trotted to the edge of the light and waited. As Hades moved toward him, the glow cast shadows farther ahead and I thought I could make out something moving up ahead. “Storm?”

  My question was met with silence but for the distant thrum of the waves striking the island. I felt like an idiot. He couldn’t answer me in this form. Some ‘thropes can speak in full animal shape, but they have to be practiced enough to be able to modify their larynx to form human words. I’d only met a few in my travels that could do it. Donovan apparently wasn’t one of them.

  By this point I wasn’t sure I liked where any of this was going. I couldn’t see a potential motivation for pulling a fast one on me, but just because I couldn’t see it didn’t mean they didn’t have one. As I mentioned before, I don’t like things I don’t understand. And this was starting to feel something like that yet again. This was beginning to get way out of my control and I don’t like that much either.

  Grumbling under my breath, I followed Donovan down the hall to a single door and reached over him to turn the knob. Great, I thought, as I opened the door, another dark room. “Hades? Come shed some light on this, will you?”

  “My life’s ambition has been to be a searchlight,” he snorted. But he came. Smart man.

  The room was large and empty, a long rectangle marked only with another door on the opposite side. This was getting ridiculous. Donovan trotted straight to the next door and sat down once again.

  This time Hades walked to the door first and turned the knob, throwing the door open before I could stop him.

  Another dark room. I angrily shoved past them and strode into the blackness. Something moved and I reflexively dialed up my mage gems for something offensive. A nice bolt of chain lightning, perhaps?

  The room was suddenly bathed in light and I staggered back, blinking against the glare. “Surprise!” came a chorus of voices and, once I’d managed to blink back the sparkly halos spinning across my eyes, I saw the room was full of people, including Storm.

  “Happy Birthday, Rio!” he cried, rushing over to throw his arms around me. I punched him in the gut hard enough to knock him on his ass.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I asked him, my voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd like a buzz-saw.

  He stared up at me with a hurt expression and, for an instant, I wanted to kick him. “You scared the shit out of me,” I shouted. “What were you thinking?” Then it struck me. “Hey—how did you know it was my birthday?” It’s not as though I advertised it, and anyone who’d know had been gone a long time—or so I assumed. I’d left my family behind in Brazil and never looked back when I reached the States.

  “Jack found out,” Storm said, scowling up at me fiercely. “He knows people.”

  “This was a very cruel thing to do, Storm, and I don’t appreciate it in the least.”

  “You know,” he growled as he climbed to his feet, “some guys actually have girlfriends who enjoy it when they go to these lengths to throw them a surprise birthday party.”

  “Then maybe you need one of those girlfriends,” I snarled at him.

  The room went totally still and I froze, suddenly aware that everyone’s eyes were upon me. I made a slow circle and groaned inwardly.

  I don’t usually give a shit what anyone thinks of me. Why should I?

  Damn. I had every right to be pissed, but I wondered if I’d carried it too far. He’d tricked me, and I’d been scared for him, yes. But he’d done it for what could be argued as the best of reasons. To give me something special, to share a day I hadn’t paid any attention to in centuries with all of our friends.

  It was a sweet gesture, really.

  I let out a long sigh. “Sorry,” I murmured.

  He cocked his head and a grin slid into place on his broad, handsome face. “So am I.”

  I found myself laughing and shaking my head. “I love
you, Storm, you big dummy.”

  “I think you cracked my sternum,” he answered back, holding his hand over his midsection.

  “You’re an immortal,” I said. “You’ll be healed in a minute.”

  “True enough. Forgiven?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. How’d you pull off the goblin tracks?”

  “That was easy. Real goblins. I made a jump to Starhaven and asked Kali to loan me a few. One of them’s a mage, which made it easier.”

  “A goblin mage?” I’d never heard of such a thing. “I’d like to meet him.”

  “Her.”

  The noise level returned to normal as I heard Hydra deliver the punch line of some joke or another. “…and the farmer’s wife turned to him, grabbed his crotch and said ‘yeah, and if we could get this hard, we could get rid of your brother.’”

  I winced, but nearly everyone else laughed. Glancing past him I noticed a makeshift stage set up against one long wall. “Karaoke?”

  “Of course,” Storm told me. “I had to promise not to sing though. No one would want to follow me.”

  There was a bit of truth in that, but I knew he wasn’t serious. No one would pass up the chance to hear him sing for free. Especially now, since he’d been retired for the past several decades. “Where’s this goblin mage?” I asked, peering around the room.

  “Over by the bar,” he said, pointing behind me. I turned and spotted Jack, who stood behind a long straight counter much like the one in the Lounge. He met my eyes and lifted a glass in a kind of salute before taking a deep drink. I spotted a small figure perched on a stool in front of the bar and nodded to myself.

  “Were all of them in on this?” I asked Storm, poking him in the ribs with a forefinger. I was still a little irritated by the whole thing, but my initial fury had worn off. I may have overreacted.

  He winced, but I knew it hadn’t hurt him in the least. He’s so dramatic sometimes. “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Wait here,” I told him, and marched over to the bar. “Very clever,” I said to Jack. He smiled enigmatically and handed me a bottle from under the counter. “Crimson Rain,” he said, naming the most expensive and sought-after blood substitute. It had been my research that initially gave us the artificial blood most civilized vamps now drank, but others had taken the ball and run with it. I’d become obscenely wealthy from the original patent, but money had never meant all that much to me. I did it because I enjoyed research.