by Briar, Robin
There’s a spell for healing wounds. I know it. I learned it decades ago. I just haven’t cast it in a long time. There hasn’t been any need. How does it go? The Latin word for curing? Fixing? Healing? What is it? My mind swims through all the words I know.
Words. There’s so many of them! I’m having a really hard time focusing right now. I can’t even think straight. I’m feeling so lightheaded, which makes perfect sense. I’ve lost a lot of blood.
Suddenly Trent is looking down at me. Not Trent the wolf or Trent the half-man, half-wolf. Trent the man. He looks concerned. I didn’t think his red eyes could look concerned. They look vicious most of the time. Maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. Maybe I’m delirious.
Trent puts pressure on my entry and exit wound at the same time. Piper kneels down beside me as well. Crying.
“Don’t die, Ms. Aberdeen! I still have so many paintings to show you!”
Adorable. I’m dying and Piper’s biggest worry is that she gets a chance to show me her latest works of art. The thing is… I do want to see them. She’s always been so talented. If I could only think of that damned spell.
Trent looks at me. Furrows his brow.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Don’t be. You did all you could.”
“No. That’s not why I’m apologizing.”
“Then wha—”
Trent sticks a finger into my bullet wound.
“HOLY MOTHER OF BALLS!”
At least, that’s what I think I’m saying. My mouth is actually screaming a litany of obscenities. They all come out at once, I’m sure, without making a lick of sense.
I thought landing on each rooftop was painful. That was nothing compared to this level of agony. The effect, however, snaps me back to clarity. At least for a second.
“If you know any healing spells you can cast on yourself, now would be the time,” Trent says firmly.
I do, but only one. It finally comes back to me.
“Mederi Ipsum.”
Mend Self.
There it is, like it was waiting for me the whole time.
I touch my shoulder and activate the magic. My mind is clear, sharp again, thanks to Trent thrusting his finger in the wound. Not that I have any intention of thanking him right now. That hurt like hell. I don’t ever want to feel that kind of pain again.
The flesh begins to stitch back together. A few more moments pass and even the pain begins to subside. I sit up.
“You… you can do magic?” Piper asks,
“Yes,” I tell her. No point in denying it now. I’m a witch.”
Her eyes widen.
“That. Is. So. Cool!”
Children have the strangest reactions at times like these. We’re still in danger and she’s completely oblivious to it. Kids definitely live in the moment.
I look over my shoulder back at The Vault. It’s completely blocked behind taller apartment buildings now. Good. Who knows how far those rifles can shoot. Then I look at Trent and realize that he’s not wearing a shred of clothing. He did shift into his largest form after all.
“I saw a clothesline on this roof as we landed here. Maybe they have something in your size?”
Trent looks over and sees what I’m talking about.
“Stay with Ms. Aberdeen,” he tells Piper. “I’ll be right back.”
He needn’t have said anything. She barely hears him. Her eyes are the size of milk saucers, watching the magic heal my wound.
As Trent walks away, I notice two bullet wounds on his body, one in his arm and the other on his leg. He’s still bleeding from both shots. Trent is trying to hide it, but they’re causing him distress. His face is more stoic than usual.
“Grab an extra t-shirt. One I can rip up!” I yell out to him.
Trent nods.
“So how long have you been a witch?” Piper asks, trying to steal my attention back.
“My whole life,” I tell her.
“Can you teach me how to cast spells?”
“I can teach you ritual spells. The kind you have to draw, but spells like the one I just cast? You have to be born with that.”
“That sucks.”
“What about you? Your mom and dad are both werewolves. That means you’re going to be a werewolf too, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Piper says. She looks away sheepishly.
“Well, that’s cool too. I can’t leap from rooftop to rooftop. Your dad can. That will be you one day.”
“Sure, but werewolves… are hairy. I don’t want to be hairy.”
Of course. What little girl would?
I can’t help but feel impressed by how well Piper is dealing with everything. Either that or she’s been exposed to this kind of chaos before. Regardless, she’s holding it together really well right now.
I finish healing myself as Trent comes back wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt that’s too small for him. Neither articles of clothing hide his wounds very well.
I take the white t-shirt he brought over and rip off a long strip. I get Piper to help as I tie one around Trent’s arm and then his leg. These wounds will need attention soon, but the pressure will help until the silver bullets can be removed. Trent won’t heal otherwise.
“We need to get off this roof,” he says afterward. “They might not be able to see us from The Vault, but they haven’t given up.”
He turns to his daughter. “I need you to stay very close to Ms. Aberdeen at all times, okay, munchkin? That’s very important right now.”
Piper nods. “She’s going to teach me ritual magic!”
Tell a child what they want to hear and that information will never be forgotten.
Trent looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Is she now?”
“You can object later. Get us out of here first. I’m sure you’re right about Felix’s men not giving up on us.”
Trent finds the stairwell doorway and shoulders it open. It’s an old building and the lock breaks easily for him. We wind our way down the stairwell to the bottom floor, where people have left their shoes in the hallway.
Trent grabs a pair and slips them on quickly. I can see a pay phone across the street through the front entranceway.
“I’ll be right back. Candice and Saffron can’t sense me while I keep this spell going, but I can call them easy enough.”
“No,” Trent says. “It’s not safe to be on the street right now. Felix has a long reach in this town. That includes the police. They’ll be looking for us as well.”
I look at Trent incredulously. “Okay, I know Felix is resourceful, but tasking the police that quickly? Surely we have some time.”
“We don’t. Trust me. He’s that efficient. I’ve been working with the man for years. It’s not just the police we need to worry about. It’s cameras too. Security cameras. Traffic cameras. He has the ability to see through any of them. Don’t think of Felix as just a warlock. He’s savvy with technology too.”
I’ve seen the inside of The Vault now, so I know that’s true. Candice and Saffron taught me to think the same way about magic. Cast spells only when there’s no other choice or you are pressed for time. Otherwise, find a mundane solution.
“Fine, but keep this in mind. I can cast spells, but Candice and Saffron are in a whole other league. Felix wasn’t wrong about me. I’m a Maiden. My magic is mostly about seduction. And most of it only works on me. When I fall asleep at some point, the spell hiding Piper and I right now will end.”
“Fine. Then what do you propose? Can you can signal them magically somehow?”
“We have a cellular phone network on our own private frequency. The one I normally carry around with me, however, is back in the country. That said, I have a spare in town. We need to reach my brownstone.”
“You have a brownstone?”
“Yes.”
“But you rent a place in the country. You work for Sylvia at her studio.”
Right. I’m forgetting how young I look again. The body and face of an
eighteen-year-old.
“What can I say? Some people relax differently. And I own that place in the country as of nine months ago. The old couple who live downstairs actually rent from me.”
Trent adjusts to this information. He’s starting to realize that I really am older than I look.
“A friend of mine named Kumi has been looking after the brownstone during my country sabbatical.”
Kumi is probably watching over Trixie as we speak, but my place is a lot closer than Trixie’s building. None of which I’m prepared to share with Trent. I know he’s on the run from Felix as well now, but that doesn’t mean we’re on the same side yet.
“Kumi? That sounds Japanese. Is she Asian?”
“She is.”
“Another witch?”
“No. Kumi is… something else. That being said, the front and back entrances to my place will be heavily warded. If we can get inside, Felix won’t be able to sense me or Piper anymore. Candice and Saffron warded my place against divination magic.”
“I see. And you trust her, then? This Kumi?”
“With my life. No less than Candice or Saffron.”
“And she’ll listen to you?”
“Yes. Why so many questions?”
They are kind of strange. Trent frowns and waves his hand aside. “No reason. Where’s your brownstone, then?”
“The SoHo district.”
There’s something he’s not telling me, but I can worry about that later. Trent looks around the hallway. His eyes fixate on an old maintenance door.
“I have a plan. Follow me.”
He really isn’t giving me any choice in the matter. Trent will protect me, but I have to do exactly as he says. Still, I can’t argue with his results, and to be fair, I don’t mind. Trent is calm under pressure. An extremely valuable quality at times like this.
Far be it from me to quibble about who’s in charge. I’ll go along with whatever Trent tells me at this point if it keeps us alive.
4. Mighty in the Making
Trent walks over to the door and tries the knob. Locked. He leans into the frame and breaks it open, but quietly. A set of stairs lead to a concrete basement. He closes the door behind us and we head down into what looks like a furnace room.
I scan the room. It’s definitely an old building. Still uses hot water heaters. Trent walks around the perimeter, running his hand along the far side of a wall.
“We’re in an old part of town. The city doesn’t advertise this fact, but many of these buildings are connected by underground service tunnels. There’s a network of them beneath these buildings. We can safely move around the city this way. Maybe even reach SoHo.”
Trent puts his ear to the wall over an area that looks recently painted. Recent in a relative sense. The color is different, but was probably painted decades ago.
He spots a toolbox and quickly crosses the room to grab a crowbar from inside. Then, without hesitating, he drives it through the old brick wall. The bullet wound on his arm pulses blood through the strips I tied around his bicep, not that it’s stopping him.
The crowbar goes in deep. He works it around a little, widening the hole, and then pulls it out. Trent feeds the curved part back in and pulls. He creates a hole in the wall as old bricks fall around his feet. He drops the crowbar and starts pulling out bricks by hand.
I keep Piper next to me with my arms around her protectively.
I won’t deny it. I’m in awe of Trent’s strength. I know he’s doing all of this for his daughter, but I can’t help but feel attracted to him again. Maybe because he’s doing all of this for his daughter.
He didn’t make a good first impression, but his paternal instincts are fierce. Trent’s not even a hybrid wolf right now.
“You’re dad sure is strong,” I tell Piper.
“He’s the strongest!” she proclaims proudly.
Trent makes short work of the wall. When the hole is big enough for him to fit through, Trent turns around and hands me the crowbar. He then crosses back to the toolbox and picks up a chisel, a flathead screwdriver, and a mallet.
“There a flashlight in the toolbox,” he says over his shoulder, climbing up the stairs. “Grab it.”
I notice that he’s using the railing for support this time. His leg must be hurting more than he’s letting on. He kneels down and pounds the chisel and screwdriver into the cracks of the door, effectively spiking it closed.
“Anything to slow them down?” I ask.
Trent nods, saying nothing. He’s definitely in pain.
I grab the flashlight and flick the switch to make sure it still works. I hand it to Trent as he walks back down the stairs.
“Keep it,” he says. “I can see in the dark. You can’t.”
He ducks into the hole and disappears. I take Piper by the hand and follow close behind. Trent leads us down a short tunnel, clearing away any debris in advance.
The corridor opens into an old city aqueduct. It looks like this place was built in the early 1900s, before even I was born. The tunnel is tall enough for a man to walk through upright and wide enough for two to stand side by side.
The floor is wet, but not with sewage. Maybe at one point, but these tunnels have long since been closed down. Now it’s just stormwater.
This is where our subterranean journey begins.
It feels like we’ve been walking for hours. I had no idea these tunnels could keep going for so long, or that there would be so many intersections. Every time we come to a crossroads of tunnels, Trent looks at the numbers etched on the wall, chooses a direction, and keeps going
If nothing else, anybody potentially following us will have a hard time staying on our trail. It’s a labyrinth down here. If you didn’t how to navigate down here, you could easily get lost. We’ve been walking for what feels like miles. Piper starts to complain.
“My feet are wet.”
“I’m sorry, little cub,” Trent says over his shoulder, not even a hint of impatience in his voice, “but this is the only way. We won’t be down here forever, I promise.”
“I’m tired,” she adds.
“You and me both, kiddo. Not much longer now.”
“So we’re not lost?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“No,” Trent answers curtly.
So like a man. If we are lost, he probably wouldn’t admit it. Testing my theory, I probe a little further.
“I’m surprised you know your way around, to be honest. Don’t you spend most of your time in Norway?”
“Norway is my home, but I work here often enough. The tunnels are ideal for moving around the city as wolf. I’ve used them many times. Felix’s men will eventually look for us here, if they haven’t started already. There’s less surveillance underground, which is our only advantage. I’m avoiding any tunnels where I know we can be detected. It’s a longer route, but safer.”
Matter-of-fact, just like a soldier. I’m starting to wonder if Trent was ever an actual soldier. The straightforward way he talks under pressure is a telltale sign. In any case, I’m convinced that we’re not lost anymore.
“Can we take a break for a while?” Piper asks.
Trent looks back at me. I can see from the look in his eyes that we can’t. His face is ashen. He’s lost a lot of blood.
“Your father knows where we’re going,” I tell Piper. “I’m sure we’ll get to my place soon. Here, would you like me to carry you for a while?”
She nods, and I kneel down so she can climb on my back. Piper is heavy for me, but I’ll manage. I’m not the one bleeding from two bullet wounds. Still, Trent takes the crowbar from me as a kindness.
He eventually leads us to a dead end. It’s boarded up, but the wood is brittle. Even so, Trent uses the crowbar to pull it down. He’s getting weaker by the moment.
The makeshift bandages I put on his arm and leg helped for while, but his blood has long since soaked through. Trent clears the way and reveals a flight of stairs beyond. They lead up to a dry gravel tunnel and r
ail track. We follow it for a while until it opens into an old abandoned subway station.
I actually recognize it. Perfectly preserved from another age. This station was still open when I was teenager, fifty years ago, and it was old then.
The walls and floors are tiled with patterns. The roof funnels into a beautiful stained glass ceiling. It would have been illuminated with oil lamps originally, back when, once upon a time, more pride was taken in this part of town. We’re definitely in the SoHo district.
“We must be close,” I say. “I know this station. Where do we go from here?”
“You tell me,” Trent says, sitting down on an old wooden bench. “I’m pretty sure the brownstones will be connected to these tunnels, but it also depends on which neighborhood we’re heading toward.”
“Kitty-corner from the park. Northwest corner. Can you get us there?”
Trent nods lazily and stands up again. No rest for the wicked.
He brings us to another boarded-up doorway. This one takes longer to tear down. He manages to do it, but with great effort. A flight of stairs leads down into another network of aqueducts. Fortunately, less than a mile later, Trent stops. He leans heavily against one side of the tunnel and points at the wall across from him.
“There. Where the wall changes color. Probably one layer of brick.”
Trent passes me the crowbar. I take it from his hand and he slumps down the wall into the storm water. He can barely keep his eyes open now. His complexion is so pale.
Piper slides off my back and nestles into his body. Trent drapes his arms around her. She doesn’t understand how badly her father is hurting. Or maybe she does and this is her way of comforting him.
I need to break through this wall quickly. A spell that gives me the strength of a bear would be really handy right now. Similar to how Candice gave herself the speed of a wolf. I haven’t been taught those spells for some reason.
My magic has been largely limited to seduction or protecting myself, so I’ll get no help there. It’s just me, a crowbar, and this brick wall. No point putting it off.
I swing the forked end against the wall. The smallest chip flies loose. It’s a start. I keep at it, aiming for the same spot. Any time I manage to hit the same spot is a miracle. My aim isn’t the greatest. After a minute, it’s clear that I’m making very little progress.
