he said, holding up a hand.
Rebekah didn’t say anything, but I could sense there was more she wanted to add. For now at least, that was the end of it. But Carter was right. Had he shown up sooner, then just maybe Rebekah would still be alive.
Umara stepped back and looked me over—and I’ve gotta’ say, it felt a little…revealing with everything out in the open, even though I knew she was only seeing the my dark blue shirt and tan cargo pants from the Semblance’s illusion. Umara closed a few pockets on her vest and frowned.
“What is it now?” I asked.
“You probably won’t like this,” she said, “but Carter has to move back in with you.”
CHAPTER
SEVEN
After Carter and Rebekah had their welcoming interchanges, Carter seemed satisfied. He even looked at Stephanie and apologized for breaking her ribs and rupturing her lungs—or he did what he might consider to be an apology.
He jammed his taloned fingers into his pants pockets and nodded at her. “Sorry yer bones ain’t strong and yer lungs is weak.”
Stephanie offered him a forced smile. “Don’t mention it.”
When Umara noticed that I was holding the pink obelisk in my hand, she came through with yet another remedy—a gold necklace that firmly clamped the obelisk on either end, allowing the stone to dangle vertically from my collar to about five inches below. I asked her if anyone would notice, but she assured me that with my Semblance, no one would see a thing.
“So, I can’t help but ask,” I said to her. “Stephanie and I came here expecting you to be asleep, but you’re wearing full gear. And you’ve got Carter with you.”
“Carter’s been staying here ever since he was released from jail,” Umara said.
“You mean ever since he escaped,” I clarified.
Carter gave a grunted chuckle. “Heh, heh, heh.”
Umara folded her arms. “As far as what happened tonight at your place, news travels fast. I discovered that there’s a Shaman in town and that he’s out for blood. Was I right?”
“He attacked Lyle at his apartment,” Stephanie said.
“Any idea why?” Umara asked.
There was no need hiding it. Umara was the best equipped to help with paranormals, but she needed all of the information up front. The times that Rebekah had left out a detail or two and the case had backfired, Umara hadn’t hesitated to give Rebekah an earful—one so severe that I was sure I was the one getting berated right along with her.
“We have something of his,” I said, sliding my hands into the pockets of my tan cargo pants, only to realize that I had no pockets, since the Semblance was all there was between me and my…parts.
“Something like what?” Umara narrowed her eyes at me.
After a glance at Stephanie that told me she wasn’t ready to divulge any information, I figured I’d risk upsetting her rather than have Umara rip me a new one later. “Something like…his ankh…” I cringed, waiting for her to flip.
And…she did.
“His what?” Umara flailed. “You tampered with a Shaman’s ankh?” She stepped up to me and tapped me on the side of the head with her fingernail. “Is there anything rolling around in there? Or did you lose it almost locking lips with the Druid out by the curb?”
She knew about that? “I…”
Umara walked away shaking her head, then faced me with a shrug. “The ankh, where is it now?”
I just bit my lip, already despising that this man-beast was going to be taking part in our private conversations.
When I started to speak, Stephanie touched my arm and offered, “I think it might be in my pocket.”
Umara’s eyes went golf ball wide. Both hands went up to her forehead, rainbow fairy dust sparkling out. She shut her eyes, rubbing vigorously. “See. This is the very reason Carter cannot stay here. I have to turn off some of my paranormal traps. Do you realize what would have happened to you had you walked into my house if it were fully loaded?” She eyed both of us, but neither of us spoke. “No, you don’t, because you two idiots come waltzing in here with a live ankh in your pocket. In your pocket! Look at that.” She pointed up to a vent in far corner of the ceiling. “This laser would have sliced a hole through your heart before you even crossed through the threshold. It’s made to kill Shamans, and even more so Shamans with ankhs ‘in their pockets,’” she scoffed. “And to be frank, they probably wouldn’t have ever made it through the front door, because I have two just like it on the porch.”
I couldn’t do anything but keep quiet, all while Carter and Rebekah chimed in on how foolish I’d been, laughing with one another about how now I was getting upset with them. And it didn’t help that apparently Umara was waiting for an answer, one that I wasn’t even sure I had to offer.
But then, something came to me. I looked up at the vent in the ceiling, confused. “Wait, you said that this laser would have triggered had a Shaman come in unarmed and even had a Shaman come in with an ankh.”
“Or two imbeciles carrying one,” Umara said. “You have to be careful when you come here, you know that.” She sounded more sympathetic this time.
“Right,” I said, “but here’s the thing. Stephanie told me that a Shaman with an ankh is dangerously deadly, because with an ankh, the Shaman can make connections, even to the point of knowing what I’ll eat for breakfast the next morning.”
Carter scratched his belly. “And yer point is?”
“My point is that what good is a laser if a Shaman with an ankh would have already known that the laser was there?”
That seemed to click Umara back into her researcher persona and out of her current one which was “please don’t make dumb decisions around me.” She studied me for a moment, and then she said, “Only an ideal ankh could do what you just mentioned.”
“An ideal ankh?” Even Stephanie looked confused.
“Yeah,” Umara said. “An ankh operating in its most ideal state—one that has no defects or inhibitors. Defects could be anything. A speck of dust ventured in during the enchanting process. Too much light during the enchanting process. Too little light. Too much heat. Not enough heat. Frayed edges, whatever.”
“This one totally has frayed edges,” Stephanie said, tapping her pocket.
Umara raised an eyebrow. “Then already we know that this ankh is not ideal. In fact, ideal ankhs don’t exist. Why? Because they’re made by imperfect people—fairies to be exact. And no fairy is good enough to cover all her bases when it comes to enchantments, which is a good thing,” she muttered. “As far as the inhibitors, well that doesn’t have to do with the actual ankh, but with the wielder.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” I asked.
“Simple,” she raised a finger. “Say ideal ankhs did exist and that an untrained Shaman actually came to possess one. Then what? Well, the Shaman would have difficulty using the artifact, not because of the artifact, but because of his inability to tap into the power of the ankh.”
I scratched my chin, then pointed back up to the ceiling. “I see, so that’s why the lasers would work. Zakhar’s ankh isn’t ideal, and he has his own inhibitors, so since the lasers are already in place, there would be no way he could be prepared for them if he walked into your house.”
“Almost,” Umara said, making a face that clearly showed concern. “And this is why I never talk to Shamans. Never. I always do dealings with them through a third party.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Because if this Zakhar—as you called him—had ever spoken to me personally, then he might be able to determine every trap in my house based on the connections that he could make.”
Umara stepped over to the window and pressed a button that brought down the blinds covering the moon roof. “I wish it were that simple. I really do. But he’s already spoken to you, Lyle. And you’ve been to my place plenty of times. I can’t chance that he’ll come here blindly, and if he does, he may not know where my traps are, but he’ll at least suspect them to trigger, which is why we’re going after him instead.”
It made sense now why she was wearing her sleeveless vest and boots, and why her hair was tied into a ball in the back. “But aren’t fairies supposed to keep to themselves?”
“I suppose,” she said. “But the last time I did that, look what happened.” She came over, reached through the Semblance and fingered the obelisk where Rebekah was. “I should have gone with the two of you that night when you went after Marcus. I knew it then, but I regret it now.” She let go of the stone and backed away. “I won’t let anything like that happen again.”
“How were you planning to find him?” I asked.
“First, did you come in contact with the ankh at all?” She looked at Stephanie. “I know you did, but what about you, Lyle? It is critical that you tell me the truth.”
“He didn’t,” Stephanie said. “I tried to get him to, but he didn’t.”
“What would ya’ do somethin’ like ‘dat for?” Carter asked, peering down his nose at her.
She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. “Because I needed his help. I knew he didn’t know me and that he might not want to help me if there was nothing in it for him.”
I wanted to assure her that what she did was okay, but it wasn’t. It was crazy! Why would anyone try and link another person to an ankh?
“Good,” Umara said firmly. “Good. So at least I know what we’re working with. To find him, we need to bait him somehow.”
“He won’t come after me,” Stephanie said. “I know he won’t.”
“Right,” Umara said, shaking a finger, thinking. “Because you’ve already come in contact with it. You’ve already touched the artifact, so if he kills you, then he kills himself.”
“What if somebody else kills the Druid?” Carter asked. “Don’t ‘dat mean the Shaman is caput?”
“No,” Umara said. “It doesn’t work like that, which is probably why Zakhar came to you, Lyle. If someone else does harm to Stephanie, then nothing happens to him.”
“Why’s that?” I asked. “Aren’t they both connected? Hurting one hurts the other, right?”
“It’s more to it that,” Umara said. “It has to do with energy transfers.” She ventured over to the fireplace and grabbed an iron prod. “See this? See how it can’t be bent? Imagine that Zakhar is here and Stephanie is here.” She pointed to one end and then the other. “For Zakhar to hurt Stephanie, he would have to bend the iron prod. If he did, guess what would happen.”
“The prod would break,” I said.
“Exactly. And if so, both he and Stephanie would be gone, which is why it’s not in Stephanie’s interest to do direct harm to him either for the same reason.”
“What?” Stephanie’s brow furled. “You mean I can’t stop him from coming after me?”
“Not directly,” Umara clarified. “It’s sort of like a voodoo doll, though I despise those little things. You’ll never find one of those in my lab. I know fairies who enchant them, but not me. Anyway. If you stab him, you also get stabbed. If you kill him…then well, I suppose you know the result of that also.”
I gestured to the iron prod. “But if I do harm to Zakhar, doesn’t that do harm to Stephanie?”
Umara shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. Think of it this way. If you could lop off this end of the prod, the rest would be left untouched. If someone kills Stephanie, then Zakhar will continue to live. Same is true if someone kills Zakhar.”
“Zakhar and Stephanie are linked,” I said, “so it’s in their best interest not to hurt one another.”
“Exactly,” Umara said. “Which is why she’s coming with us.”
“Are you sure about this? I mean, like, shouldn’t I just stay away from him?” Stephanie asked. “What sense does it make for me to go looking for him? It’s not like I can do anything.”
Carter sniffed a few times. “Perty lil fairy’s got a point. You comin’ with us means that Zakhar can’t be a loose cannon with all that elemental Empyrean. He gone have to tone it down if you around. Can’t risk burnin’ hisself’.”
“And you can heal,” Umara added. “If you’re with us, then he’ll have to be on guard.”
That sounded great and all, but I had to admit, I was a little unsettled. This was a Shaman we were facing. Not some demon or a wizard or whatever. He made connections. And what troubled me was that a team was nothing but one big connection all together. I didn’t know why, but it just didn’t feel right. Or maybe it did, and I was being my skeptical self.
Rebekah said from the stone.
I said.
Rebekah was silent, and I could sense her retreating into the stone a little. When she returned, my chest warmed from where the obelisk was bare against my skin.
I replied.
I eyed Umara as she fumbled through one of the desks, looking for something.
There was silence between us that was interrupted by Carter’s burly grunt.
I just pursed my lips. “Umara, if this Shaman can make connections, how can we expect to beat him? Seems like he can see several steps ahead of us, right?”
Umara nodded. “Every Shaman’s connections can be interrupted. When they are, he has to start his connections all over again. The problem is, figuring out exactly what interrupts his connections, that’s the hard part.”
“What kinds of things interrupt connections?” Stephanie asked.
Umara sighed. “Could be anything really. A barking dog. A bright light. Darkness. Rustling grass. Certain colors. Certain types of people. It’s hard to say.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. “If it can be anything, we really don’t have much of a chance at figuring out how to interrupt his connections.”
“Which is exactly why that’s not the approach we’re taking,” Umara said. “It’s too risky, and we just don’t’ have that much time.”
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Umara had apparently suited up a few nights ago because she’d intended to go out looking for me. Showing up at her place changed all that, and I got the feeling before we left that she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go out hunting for me, and was probably just glad to find out I was safe.
Yes, I said a few nights ago, because that was how long it had taken me to get everything moved into my new apartment. When my previous apartment had burned down, I’d come back home to a host of intrusive questions by the property managers and the police, as they probed me to see if I had caused the fire.
When they figured out that I hadn’t, I was allowed to move into a nearby apartment complex that had been newly renovated—a modern upgrade compared to my old place, complete with a black refrigerator and cherry wood cabinets.
Elemental Damage: Confessions of a Summoner Book 2 Page 6
