“You’re going to need your phone and Jeep back soon,” Rose said after a moment.
“Yes, but I still have my gate stone to Central Park,” I told her between bites.
Her eyebrows went up again, and she flitted back into the air, hovering in front of me. “You’re still going there?”
“I have to talk to Sigmund,” I told her, killing the last of the bacon.
“I know you do. But Vivian…”
“What about her?” I asked, knowing talking while I was chewing was rude.
“You understand that she broke the treaty, right?”
“Yes, in about ten different ways to Sunday.” I pushed my plate back before grabbing the mug of coffee Cindy had fixed me before heading into the shower.
“And when Sigmund and I communicated mind to mind, he saw all of it.”
“Yes, he did the same with me; well, what I can remember,” I told her.
“So you know she’ll likely be put to death, right?”
For the first time ever, I was the one who spewed coffee.
“Dumbass, that’s hot!” Rose shouted.
“What’s going on?” Cindy asked, coming out of the bathroom, wearing her slacks and my shirt still.
“I have to leave, and I’m in a little bit of a hurry,” I told her.
“Mage business?” she asked, running a towel through her wet, tangled red curls.
“Yes, and I can’t leave the bunker unlocked when I leave…”
“He hates to see you go, but loves to watch you leave,” Rose said in a really deep baritone.
The words almost had me choking out another spray of coffee.
“I don’t know what that even means,” Cindy told her, deadpan.
“It’s the Honky Tonk, Badonkadonk,” Rose said, starting to sing.
“Ignore her, she’s stirring up trouble,” I said quickly.
“Yeah, I’ll ignore that. Give me five, and I’ll be ready enough to face my mother.”
“Um... about that?” I asked her, putting my cup down so I wouldn’t have any repeat incidents.
“We can talk later when you’re not busy. Besides, I have work in an hour, and I need to put on clean clothes.”
“My shirt is clean,” I told her.
“You want it back?” she said, tugging at the bottom.
“My eyes, my virgin eyes!” Rose shrieked.
The way my magical oomph worked was I have a reservoir of power. Somehow, I didn’t know where it was, but I could feel it. It was how I forced part of my will into a rune to activate the spells, by tapping into that. Some charms were limited in time, and some stayed activated, drawing power from the mage’s well. A gate stone was a limited time spell, only staying open as long as there was a reservoir of energy, or it ran out of charge. The gate stones I had ran off of a single charge, one I could refill. With stunted magical abilities and no formal training, it was easier and safer for me. Using up all of my magic, like on the healing charm Vivian had first given me, could be dangerous because it would drain you and leave you hungry, weak, and tired. I’d only hit that wall when using a charge like that, but if I wasn’t careful, other runes would take and take until I cut off the flow of magic, or died.
Since I wasn’t about dying, I used the refillable runes as much as possible. It also left me wondering where my limits were. I’d not hit them, and both Rose and Vivian at one point had commented that I held a ton of magical potential. My problem was, I was stuck. Three to ten seconds into the future. That was all I was good for. To say it made me slightly bitter would be an understatement. It was like being told you have the powers of Superman, but your only superpower is to have his gale-force breath and none of the cool things like strength, flying, laser eyes or x-ray vision. You know you’re supposed to have more, but it isn’t there.
Once Cindy left, I put my hand on my charm for Central Park and waited for Rose to land on my shoulder. I looked into the future where I opened the gate and saw I wasn’t going to be attacked or mugged, so I pushed a little bit of my magic into it, activating it, and stepped through.
“Whoa, boss, it’s chilly,” Rose said, pushing her body against my neck.
“Must be a cold front,” I told her, stuffing my necklace behind my AC/DC t-shirt.
“You should’ve worn a suit. I don’t think storming the Bureau of Investigations in a ‘Back in Black’ shirt is going to win you any favors.”
I thought it was ironic and I told her so as I set off, ignoring the joggers and concentrating on the future. I thought I would be safe from Vassago for a while, but it wasn’t but two or three days ago that I’d trashed the Bureau, JJ and I hurting the strike team. Would they blame me for the deaths, and injury to Vivian? If they’d been at full strength when they’d confronted Vassago, would they have been able to subdue and beat him?
I didn’t know. One thing I did know is he probably could‘ve killed me easily while I was down and out and everyone else was disabled – but he didn’t. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to touch the back of my neck. I’d seen it in my sight, but all I saw was darkness. All I knew was in about five minutes when I got out of here I was going to be walking into a hostile environment, trying to save somebody who’d tried to kill me numerous times. Maybe.
“Boss, it’s off to your right,” Rose said, invisible but riding on my shoulder.
“How do you know?” I asked, coming to a stop at the side of the street, watching the traffic zip around. “I’ve only been there a couple of times, and the last time we went another way.”
“I know a shortcut,” Rose told me, tugging on my ear painfully, “I used to work there, remember?”
“Right,” I said, chastised, and followed her directions with the exception of crossing the street in front of a fast-moving garbage truck.
I was walking down the street when I caught sight of the Jimmy John’s where JJ had had his sub eating contest in front of fawning ladies. I wondered if he was over his ‘heat’ or if more shenanigans and hangouts were awaiting us. It just reminded me how little I truly understood sometimes.
“So walk in there, lay your thing out—”
“Wait, what thing?” I asked, pausing before the New York City mages’ entrance to the Bureau of Investigations.
“You know, your wing wang. Your dong. The phallic piece that’s probably dry rotting because you never dip your wick—”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Nope. Just get to Sigmund and explain the case. Or you could just let her die. I sort of vote that way because—”
“Rose, we shared a gaze,” I told her softly, and somebody looked at me funny, seeing me talking to myself.
“Yeah, I know… Ohhhhh… this connection now.”
I nodded.
“Like Harry Potter and Voldemort!”
“Not even close,” I told her as I pushed open the door.
I walked down the staircase that had been set off the main walk and to what looked like a sub-basement storage area. It was a ruse for the mundane world, but when I got to the rust-pitted steel door at the far end, I turned the handle. It didn’t turn. That hadn’t happened before, so I tried again harder. Nothing.
I checked the futures where I asked Rose to poof to the other side and look around then tell me what she saw. I saw a line of guards at an easy ready. Both mage and mundane. All wore shiny bureau badges. Their reaction was not… pleasant. They were waiting for somebody, but it didn’t look like it was me they were expecting. They were just jumpy. Instead of sneaking in or having Rose poof to the other side in a rainbow fart of glitter, I knocked.
A slit in the door slid open after a couple of moments. “Yeah?”
“I’m here to see Mage Rasmussen,” I told him.
“Credentials?” The guy was a brilliant flipping conversationalist.
I was working up something flippant to say, biting and rather insulting, when I felt Rose tug on my necklace. Remembering, I pulled it out, showing them the small silver pentacle.
<
br /> “Enforcer. We’re on lockdown.”
“Why?” I asked him, leaving the necklace out.
“Trial.”
“Okay… Is it Vivian’s trail?”
“If you knew, why outside?”
I was starting to wonder if the door guard was part troll. He was certainly stupid enough, but all I saw were yellowish eyes.
“Let him in, or I’ll pix your balls to the back of your butt cheeks!” Rose said, becoming visible.
The man blanched at having a five-inch tall faerie suddenly appear next to him, and he stepped back. It was either the threat or the surprise, I didn’t know which made him move. There was a murmur of voices, and then I heard a heavy bolt turn, and the door swung open.
“Thank you,” I said and stepped inside.
As in my sight, there were about a dozen mundane and mage guards lining the corridor. You could tell the mundanes by the guns, but I didn’t begrudge them that. I had my M&Ps in the concealed holsters, loaded with silver and conflagration runed bullets. I wasn’t planning on a great escape, just trying to stop a grand tragedy from happening. I knew what drove Vivian, even more than what Rasmussen could’ve gotten by reading her mind. I knew what drove her, what made her do what she did to me. Dedication. Above all else, dedication and honor so deep she’d lose her own life in order to do what she thought was right.
That, and the bone-aching fear of her parents being right about her. She’d given up a lot. Her parents were movers and shakers in the magical world. If the governing body had lobbyists, her parents would run the biggest super PAC on the entire planet. To have her be a magical cop had horrified them. They thought it was beneath her dignity and theirs. Vivian, more so than anything else, wanted to prove to them and herself that she hadn’t thrown her life away.
Except she sort of had. According to my guess and the dumb guard’s explanations.
“Where’s the trial being held?” I asked the guard, who was shutting the door.
“Level three,” he said, and I got a good look at him.
He wasn’t human. Not entirely. Maybe there was something that was a bit trollish about him. His facial features weren’t what I would consider normal. Not with skin like that and yellow eyes. Half-breed, probably half troll or elf, or even human. I shuddered to imagine what the parents had to have looked like. Who was on top? Were there blindfolds involved? I wasn’t being mean, he was just that ugly.
“What you looking at?” he asked me in a deep voice.
“Nothing. Uh, where’s level three?” I asked him.
He pointed at his feet, and my eyes followed, looking at the floor.
“I mean, where’s the staircase. I assume level three is upstairs, right? I go past the mundane—”
“Three levels down. This main floor.”
The line of guards snickered, and somebody pointed in a direction. I followed his hand and saw, across from the line of rooms people were gating into, was a door at the very end of the hall. Golden colored raised letters proclaimed ‘staircase’. I grunted as the guys snickered. I tried not to stomp past them, but somebody wasn’t done with me yet.
“Dumbass,” the half-troll muttered.
I’d turned to say something to him, when I saw Rose wave her tiny faerie wand and suddenly the man grunted, dropping, two hands over his crotch. He began to scream.
“What did you do?!” one of the mages demanded in an evil tone.
“I didn’t do it,” I said.
“Told him I’d pix his balls to his ass cheeks. Don’t worry, it’ll only last a minute. I didn’t want him to think I was kidding. Does anybody else want their balls pixed?” Rose’s high pitched voice was barely heard over the man’s cries.
It was comical, but almost everyone there suddenly dropped their hands to their crotch as they all realized the tiny Fae could do it.
“That’s what I thought,” Rose said and then flew to my shoulder, landing, her nose in the air, “Ready, boss?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I told her.
“Mush!” she said, using her wand to point the way.
I left them standing there, mouths agape, hands holding their privates.
3
“You knew where the stairs were,” I told Rose as we headed down what had to be the longest set of stairs between flights on record.
“Sure, I knew where the stairs were,” she shot back.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?” I asked her, my pride still wounded, despite her antics.
“Because… I mean, I didn’t have a chance. I was looking at Nobbin trying to see if he was going to do something stupid, and he did.”
“The dude’s name is Nobbin?”
“Yeah, half troll, half goblin. He’s one of the security types they usually stick in front of doors. Not very smart, but he’s good at his job.”
“You knew him from before?” I asked her.
“Knew of him. I was usually invisible around here. Looks like I might have to fly loud and proud—”
“Farting a rainbow color of faerie glitter.”
“I do not fart,” Rose said and stamped her tiny foot on my shoulder.
I tried not to laugh, but I was starting to get sore. I’d quit counting at three hundred steps, and two ninety degree turns, coming up on a third.
“This should be it,” Rose said after a second.
“You want to be all loud and proud right now, or you want to be my secret weapon? Pix some more balls and stuff.”
“Don’t joke like that in there,” Rose said as I turned the corner.
Instead of another set of stairs leading down, there was a door inset into the wall with a number three on it.
“The other two turns didn’t have doors,” I told her.
“That’s because you have to go down to go up,” she told me.
“Wait, so if I go down three levels below the ground, then I can go up two more and still be a negative one?”
“Yup,” she said impatiently.
“What’s on level one… er… the one below the floor we started on.
“The Library,” she said in a soft voice.
“So what’s the third floor then?” I asked her.
“The main council chambers. The second is the Council of Mages offices and where the Merlin has quarters.”
“Jesus,” I whispered, my hand out, over the knob, “who’s the Merlin?”
“I wouldn’t—”
The door was jerked open, away from me. Rose disappeared in a barely audible popping sound, and a moment later I felt her hand on the side of my neck. The door opened into a dimly lit hallway. It was held open by Rasmussen, flanked by Mage Kierston.
“Don’t say anything,” Rasmussen said, his voice low and grave.
“I didn’t—”
“Not a word,” Kierston said, her entire body glowing and emanating heat in an alarming manner.
“What’s got her ass on fire?” Rose asked.
Mage Kierston had turned and was walking away when she heard Rose. She spun, her entire arm now being caressed by bright blue flames.
“You two,” she said, her voice dropping into a growl, then turned and stomped off.
Mage Rasmussen just stood there a moment to see if we were going to say anything else, but I didn’t. I had a number of things I wanted to say, but held my tongue. Judging by the look he was giving me over my shoulder, his glare was more for Rose’s benefit than mine. The level of restraint the little lady was showing by keeping her snark contained was astronomical. Plus, I was pretty sure she was worried about her wings getting singed off or drawing the ire of the man who could read her mind.
“Follow me,” Rasmussen said after staring for what felt like an eternity.
I didn’t hesitate. The door swung shut behind us as if it had a spring attached. There was an audible click as a lock automatically engaged, and I turned to see the back of the door was just as ordinary as the other side, with a couple of exceptions. There was steel banding with rivets the size of
quarters holding the bracing together. I noticed that first and then the scratch marks. It wasn’t gouged or deep, but there were spots in the metal that were shinier than the rest. I shuddered.
“Let's go,” Rose whispered to me softly, giving my ear a tug.
I listened and turned to follow Rasmussen. The hallway didn’t appear to be long, but it was made entirely out of a gray stone that was squared off and fit with what looked like a thousand-year-old mortar. Moss grew in places, and metal sconces held torches that gave off a faint smell of cooking oil. Maybe animal fats? That was when I realized that we’d gone from the world of modern technology and conveniences to a world the topside hadn’t seen in a hundred years or more.
“If you interrupt the proceedings, I’m going to be quite cross with you,” Rasmussen said in a quiet voice, but despite that, it carried well.
I could hear murmurs ahead, and the hallway abruptly ended and opened up into a larger chamber. The chamber itself wasn’t made out of fitted stone like the hallway had been. It was cut right out of stone. Which, to me ,seemed unusual. I knew New York City was riddled with tunnels; hell, I had made use of them myself as an escape route out of one of my hidey holes. I even had a refurbished bomb shelter in one of them that was half a mile walk in the tunnels, which connected to the elevator shaft and an abandoned utility tunnel that was closed off at one end.
This though… it was as if the stone was cut out of one smooth piece of granite. It was polished to perfection, and yellow and gold colored flakes reflected the torchlight. Somewhere above us, somebody had cast a mage light, an orb of pure magical energy that put off a bright glow in every direction. The effect was like having several bright halogens shining down. And it was focusing on what looked like three sets of bleachers pulled into a U shape. In the middle was a podium with space for four people to stand and a chair sitting in front.
I followed Rasmussen closely, ignoring him looking back at me, perhaps trying to read my mind or thoughts about what was going on and what I was going to do. I didn’t resist him, but I was blown away at this. Three floors down to go up two more. Into the heart of North America’s Mage Society. I’d had no clue that NYC was the heart of it all, but I’d stumbled on something, and with the butcher's bill I was already ringing up, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know exactly what I’d stumbled upon. Climbing to one of the podiums was Mage Kierston. With a start, I recognized the mage in the chair, facing everyone. Vivian.
Second Sight: The Rune Sight Chronicles Page 2
