The Magic, Broken

by Rick Field

  The Magic, Broken

  Book Two of the MagicWarper Trilogy

  By Rick Field

  Copyright 2016

  Chapter One

  New York City was vast and crowded with people. Cars stood, bumper to bumper, snaking like meandering rivers through a sea of concrete, brick, glass, and steel. Its people walked the streets, minding their own business, absolutely sure of themselves and their place in the world, convinced that they were used to anything and everything.

  Through the drumming of this vast human sea walked a person unlike any other. Dressed in a form-hiding grey cloak with matching hood, the figure walked in a straight line. A wooden staff, as tall as the traveler, tapped a rhythmic pattern in synch with the mysterious cloaked person's steps.

  And yet, even with the odd, figure-disguising dress and the large wooden staff with its intricate carvings, people paid the figure no mind; they simply stepped aside as the person approached, letting it pass on to its unidentified destination. Looking up at the signposts of the majestic avenues and streets, the figure navigated haltingly through the Manhattan roads, as if unsure of itself.

  As determined and assured as it moved through the throngs of human masses, so hesitatingly did it navigate the roads. It was a curious contradiction, one that nobody paid any mind to. This was New York. Strange people often roamed its streets.

  The figure continued on to its destination, paying no mind to the people who stepped aside, merely glancing up and hesitating at the next signpost.

  Finally, the figure looked up at one of the tallest buildings in New York, for a moment displaying darkened skin and hazel-nut brown hair, before it looked down and its hood once more covered its face. The figure stepped inside, looking around as if determining where it needed to go next.

  “Please lower your hood, and present a picture ID,” a security guard said as he approached the cloaked person.

  The traveler's shoulders set in an annoyed fashion, and the free left hand darted into the traveling cloak without lowering the hood. The guard tensed, on edge at the sudden maneuver. The hand withdrew a black booklet, too small to be a common passport, bearing a strange seal on its front.

  The peculiar black booklet was waved under the guard's nose. The man's eyes tracked its movements, all the tension leaving his frame immediately. He accepted it from the mysterious person's hand, flipped it open, checked something inside, and returned it. The figure placed it back within its vestments with the same lightning-quick grace that had produced it.

  “Of course, My Lady,” the guard said, sounding a lot friendlier all of a sudden. “Allow me to call an elevator.”

  The figure dipped its head in agreement, then followed the guard to the elevators. The man made sure that one of the elevators was available for the strange figure.

  “Have a good day, My Lady,” he told her. The figure nodded graciously, stepped into the elevator cart, and turned to the controls.

  The guard remained just outside, preventing other travelers from entering the lift carriage. The figure squinted at the control panel, and if an observant person had been present, they would have heard a soft melodic voice intone whispered words in a strange language. Whatever the design and purpose of the words were, the figure seemed pleased, and tapped an area of the control panel that did not hold any keys to press.

  The doors to the elevator car closed. The lift started its voyage downward. For a moment, the figure seemed to startle as the cart started moving down.

  Composing itself, the mysterious person stared at the display, which rattled off far more negative numbers than was common in a building of this size.

  The cart stopped at a floor that was indicated as being '-99', and the doors opened to a tastefully decorated hallway that held a reception desk straight across from the lift's doors. The figure stepped out, allowing the lift to return to its normal duties.

  The cloaked woman closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, happy to be out of the humongous city with its oddly numbered streets. She was used to a city holding fifty to a hundred thousand people, tops, and each street named for what it housed – numbers didn’t factor in. How was one to find a government building without a central square? Placing this building on 'West 34th Street' made no sense, especially when she had spent a good amount of time only finding east numbered streets. Perhaps she should have accepted the map she had been offered before she embarked. These cities were obviously a lot different than the ones she was used to.

  After drawing a further deep breath, she focused. Time to get to work.

  When the figure stepped up to the reception desk, the receptionist's eyes went extremely wide.

  The young woman at the reception desk couldn't be much older than 21 or 22, and her robes showed her to be of remarkably low status. She was an apprentice-level Metalcrafter; her presence here would indicate either an incredibly powerful patron willing to sponsor her, or a sharp mind that was crippled by sub-par magical skills.

  “W-welcome to the Kirian Consulate in the United States of America, My Lady,” the receptionist said, managing to keep most of the tremor out of her voice. The mysterious woman was silent for a few moments, debating the merits of either of the theories regarding the receptionist's placement.

  “I am Pillar of Kiria, Vera of the Black Wind,” the female traveler finally identified herself. “Please announce my arrival to the Consul and prepare a room for my stay, My Lady.”

  The nervous receptionist hesitated. “To my regret, Lady Pillar, the Consul is not present at this time. I will, of course, have your room prepared immediately. Would you prefer to wait in the meditation area? I could offer tea, if you wish.”

  The Pillar, Vera, cocked her head underneath her face-concealing traveler's cloak. The Consul should be present at this time of the day. This was most irregular. “I shall wait in the mediation area. Tea would be lovely. You have my thanks, My Lady.”

  The receptionist tried to calm herself as she guided Vera through the entry hallway. Despite being many floors underground, it looked as if it were lit by broad daylight. The amber-colored walls and carpet were done in immaculate detail, and the Pillar could feel the thick carpet give and sway underneath her feet.

  The US-based Consulate appeared to be well developed and well maintained. The receptionist on duty was courteous and helpful – if a bit low on rank and status. The consulate premises appeared well protected by both magical and mundane means. The Consul had abandoned her post in the middle of her duty-hours. All of those were details that were filed in the Pillar's mental report.

  The meditation area did not have the same carpeting. Instead, it had dark hardwood floors, and two of its walls were replaced with views that would correspond nicely with those of a hundred stories up in the building towering above the consulate. “I shall bring the tea momentarily, Lady Pillar,” the receptionist said from behind, closing the door without waiting for a reply.

  Vera did not mind. Instead she stepped up to the floor-to-ceiling views of New York. More whispered words, more strange language. The view distorted, waving and budging angrily.

  The words stopped and the view returned to its original state, looking down on the bustling city. It was a real-time view, then, the Pillar nodded to herself. There must be a monitoring spell etched on the building above, projecting to the receiving viewers in the consulate.

  The door opened once more, and the receptionist pushed in a small trolley that held a full tea set as well as some accompanying snacks. “I have brought your tea, Lady Pillar; I'll get your room set up momentarily. My apologies for the delay. We weren't told of your arrival.”

  “Everything happens as it must, My Lady,” the Pillar replied. “You were not warned because I did not wish you warned. I must spe
ak to the Consul, please bring her to me as soon as she arrives.”

  The young receptionist was smart enough to realize that something major was going on. “Of course, Lady Pillar. I will try to reach her and have her return quicker.”

  “That will not be necessary, My Lady,” she said to the young woman before she could leave, mentally tallying another point for her. “I do not wish her warned of my arrival until you bring her to me.”

  The subtle subtext had given the Metalcrafter a good indication what was happening. This wasn't just an emergency that required the Consul's presence. The Consul herself was the problem. Vera could see realization dawn on the receptionist's face, before it was hidden by a careful mask of Decorum.

  “Of course, Lady Pillar. Please use the calling rune should you need me,” the young woman said, ghosting herself out of the room and closing the door.

  While the traveler poured herself a cup of tea, her magic clicked the door open, almost as if it had not been shut properly. “Epter,” the Pillar's lips whispered. From underneath the collar of her traveling cloak appeared a small magically constructed fly, a fly that flew silently, straight for the small gap.

  Vera's magic closed the door once more, giving every indication that it had clicked open by itself and the mysterious figure inside had closed it properly once more – doing so with slightly more force than strictly necessary.

  As she sipped her tea, more words spilled from the Pillar's lips, bringing up a security spell. A few monitoring spells were disabled. The figure checked more deeply, but no other monitors were found.

  Nodding to herself, the Pillar brought up one hand. A small flame appeared, a flame that suddenly formed a perfect upright circle, the center of which was replaced with the vision from the hallway beyond.

  The hand that had been holding the circle let go; the spell remained where it was. With simple gestures from Vera's fingers, the fly did as ordered, clinging to walls and ceilings as required, following the young receptionist as she bustled about, re-making the bed in one of the rooms with fresh sheets, and ensuring the room was fit for Vera's stay. A subtle gesture increased the volume.

  “...the Consul is going to be in trouble. A Pillar. Oh, gods, a Pillar. I can't believe it. I've never seen a Pillar before. I wonder what the Consul did to warrant a Pillar being...”

  The Pillar turned the volume down again. She had no interest in hearing the girl whisper frantically to herself. She had known her appearance would cause confusion and panic. It was exactly why she had arrived unannounced. Of course, a Consul wouldn't be as easily rattled as a young, low-ranking receptionist, but every little bit helped.

  Besides, the Pillar had some other surprises in mind for the Consul.

  A small jab of pain lashed through the Pillar's chest. Except for a small hitch in breath, she gave no further indication of the discomfort. Instead, she chose to sit down and cross her legs in a proper meditation position. The flaming circle communication spell followed to remain within Vera's sight. A few words tied the communicator to a trip-wire security spell on the door, setting it to dissipate the moment the door was disturbed.

  A few more choice words set an alarm on the circle. Should something out of the ordinary happen - she would be audibly alerted.

  Closing her eyes, Vera drew a deeper than normal breath, refusing to wince at the sharp pang of pain from her chest, and sank into a meditative trance. Her magic had become unbalanced in the long voyage here and would require half an hour's worth of work to stabilize properly. She would need to do more work when she finally reached home again. These half-hour patchworks wouldn't hold indefinitely.

  Looking at her magic through the eyes of deep-trance meditation, the Pillar saw the distortions, the instabilities, the disruptions within it. Held in check by gossamer threads of spell-worked magic, the woman studied the present condition of her magic. Finding the area where her containment was starting to unravel, she placed her metaphysical attention and started whispering. She didn't have the time to unravel the damaged area and rebuild it. Instead, a simple patch would have to do.

  More threads wound their way through the damaged area, latching on to the surrounding spells rather than anchored securely to both her mind and magic. The slight pain in her chest stopped, although she was only subconsciously aware of it this deep in her trance.

  Done with her tasks for now, she took a few more moments to inspect the big red cable that ran around the north-south axis of her magical core. It appeared intact. She then inspected the big blue cable that ran east-west. It, too, was fine. Breathing a metaphysical sigh of relief, the Pillar allowed herself to drift back to reality.

  Her trance lightened, and she blinked her eyes open. Halfway into her meditative state, she noticed that Epter was still following the young receptionist, staying out of the young woman's sight yet sticking close enough that its powerful eyes and ears were able to keep tabs on her.

  The guest bedroom had been made, apparently, and she was now back behind her desk, keeping herself busy with a magazine placed strategically behind the counter so it would not be visible to any visitors. The Pillar's lips quirked slightly, the receptionist's job must be a very boring one. Not many Kirian Nobles traveled beyond the Great Barrier that protected the island, so it was incredibly likely that the only companionship would come from either diplomats or those few expatriates and tourists that got themselves in worse trouble than they could magic themselves out of.

  For a moment, a stray thought captured the Pillar's attention. The people in the great city above had done as she desired, albeit subconsciously. They had taken no notice of her, yet had moved aside and let her pass by. They had no defenses whatsoever against magic. Even the Commoners back home would have been consciously aware of stepping aside for a Noble. These people had not even realized they were doing it.

  There really was a world without magic beyond the Barrier, filled with people with no protections against it. Should the Emperor desire, it would be easy to simply take command of the wider civilization.

  She blinked, dismissed the thought. It was unseemly for one in her position to ponder world domination. Even if it would be easy. Vera frowned slightly underneath her face-concealing hood. It appeared the thought would not leave her so easily. Perhaps it was one of those “thought experiments” one of her old Doctorii had once told her about. If one built a construct in one's mind to visualize all the components in a spell, one could do experiments without running the risk of harm or damage.

  Or maybe it was just an idle daydream, conjured up by her subconscious to keep her busy until the wayward Consul returned.

  Allowing her eyes to drift closed once more, Vera's mind was set loose to wander upon whatever subject it desired, freely associating concepts and thoughts and desires without any sort of conscious input. Thought built upon thought, flowing from one to the next, unhindered by reality. It was how she usually came up with the best ideas for new magic, and it was incredibly relaxing as well.

  The communication spell brought her out of her light trance with an audible note. A single glance at the event horizon of her fire-circle showed what had changed, and the Pillar of Kiria slowly stood up, ending both her privacy and her remote-viewing spell before stepping out into the hallway. Her staff made no noise at all when it came to rest on the plush carpet.

  “… she is waiting for you in the meditation room, My Lady,” the receptionist was saying before catching sight of their visitor. The Consul visibly started at the sudden appearance of the grey-cloaked figure.

  “Thank you, My Lady,” Vera spoke to the receptionist before turning to the Consul. “Shall we retire to your office, My Lady? We have quite the discussion ahead of us.”

  The Consul nodded. “Please bring us tea, My Lady,” she spoke to the receptionist before indicating the hallway. “Please follow me, My Lady Pillar.”

  Vera simply acknowledged with a clear nod of her head, and followed the Consul into her office. As they sat, the Consul behind h
er impressive desk, the Pillar on one of the visitor's chairs, they said nothing. Vera's staff kept itself upright, next to her chair.

  The silence was oppressive and uncomfortable, just as Vera wanted it to be. She wanted the Consul to be ill at ease. People that were ill at ease made mistakes; said and did things they would not say or do under normal circumstances.

  The secretary brought in the trolley with tea and snacks of various kinds. This time, she made the effort to pour and serve the two ladies in the study, uncomfortably aware of the oppressive silence in the office.

  “My Lady,” Vera finally said when the young woman was about to leave. “I will be sealing this room with a powerful privacy ward. See that we are not disturbed, and do not attempt to enter this room unless you have been called. You would not like the results of attempting to interfere with this barrier.”

  The Consul looked vaguely disturbed by Vera taking charge of her office, but the receptionist merely looked relieved that she would not have to endure more of the uncomfortable atmosphere. She let herself out.