I told you this would be a waste, Thomas, O’Meara thought, covering her eyes to blink away her blurring vision.
Hey, these transitioning keep happening and maybe we could afford it. Lemme work this out. That incident with Noise had been the second transition I'd seen in as many weeks. If the dragon had done something to make them occur more frequently around here, then maybe, just maybe, I could get that tass. "Hey, Tallow," I said. "Could you bring me the little black bag from my harness?"
The woman nodded and hurried up the stairs.
"Would you take a down payment?" I asked Humphrey.
Thomas! You are not allowed to spend your tass wages on me! I thought you were saving that to get your thumbs back? O'Meara argued.
A shiver passed through both magus and snake as Lady Cavell began to move. "That would depend on how much there is," she said, bending her neck to the side so it made several sharp cracking noises.
Tallow returned, holding what would appear to a mundane as a black dice bag. She presented it to Lady Cavell as Humphrey spiraled up her body to reclaim his perch around her shoulders. She opened the bag and allowed him to peer in. I wasn't really sure how much groat was in the bag. It had everything I'd grabbed from the restaurant as Noise and I had made our exit, as well as my tass wages from O'Meara.
Lady Cavell’s eyes widened slightly, but she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but five groat isn't nearly enough. I would like to help, but my own resources are very thin. I'm not attempting to gouge you, but I need a substantial portion of those resources to build the spells required for treatment. House Morganna can't forward anyone those resources on loan. Even inquisitors."
FIVE GROAT! Bloody ashes, Thomas! How the heck did you get that much tass? O'Meara stared at me before shaking herself and redirecting her attention to address Cavell. "I can double that,” she said, her voice smooth, collected.
Humphrey made a soft hissing sound. "In normal times we could petition the Crones for the tass, but with the loss of the Mother Grove last year and the succession of the Council of Merlins in question every scrap of tass is precious to our House."
Cavell handed back the bag to Tallow, sadness in her eyes. "I'm very sorry. I've seen this happen before, and it's hard for familiars who find themselves in these situations." She turned to O'Meara. "All I can offer the both of you is to put a block on your thread so you can't damage yourself further. Some minor spells to aid the healing and perhaps a lesson or two to your apprentice on how to apply some soothing spells. It will help and speed physical recovery."
"But we are still talking decades." O'Meara bit her lips as bitter disappointment flowed out of her like a river. She'd allowed a kernel of hope to form when the healer had arrived, like a pearl in an oyster. Now that hope had been crushed. For other well-liked, well-appointed people, her illness could be healed, but it appeared she would be left in the bottom of the barrel to rot. Again.
I only had one bargaining chip. Thomas don't. It’s not worth it.
I spoke as fast as I dared. "Look, you're right. Our bond isn't the usual type. I was one of the Archmagus' final projects. If you can help O'Meara now, I'd cooperate in helping you study it. That could be very valuable."
Cavell regarded me carefully. "And you wonder why I ask if the man is truly dead? Bonds aren't my interest nor my expertise. Now let me show you the little we can do. Please understand I would like to help you both."
I looked into her face and saw none of her earlier hostility, a hint of pain in her eyes and lines where there hadn't been any before. I understood perfectly. I understood I was going to need a hell of a lot more tass.
CHAPTER SIX
True to her word, Lady Cavell lingered for several more hours, doing what she could without using tass. She assured us with her new treatments O'Meara’s vertigo would begin to ease within a month.
Once she left, I drifted toward the kitchen where I found Rudy perched on the rim of a Costco can of cashews that had somehow made it onto the kitchen counter.
"Where the hell have you been?" I asked.
"I mon't like moctors," he said with a cashew stuffed into a cheek pouch.
"Particularly doctors with snakes?" I popped my paws up onto the counter.
"Doctors who are also snakes actually. Worst kind."
I caught the gist. "Humphrey had been human before?"
He nibbled on a nut clutched between his paws. "Dats the rumor. From the age when doctors were as likely to kill you as heal you. Chances are he ain't that good of a doctor to begin with if he Awakened. So snake oil lady can fix O'Meara's mojo?"
I pried open the fridge and fished a thawed steak out of the crisper drawer. I tossed that on the counter next to Rudy before carefully removing a clean plate from the dish rack. The plate joined the steak on the counter with a slight clack of ceramic on marble. "You don't happen to know where a cougar can find a a hundred groat lying around?"
Rudy dropped a half-eaten nut back into the can with a bark of laughter. "Gee, I dunno. Rob the Council or House Hermes?"
"Don't even think about it." O'Meara's chair whirred though the doorway that opened to her recovery room. "You two have had enough trouble for one day." She reached past me, grabbed the plate with the steak on it and whisked it off to the microwave.
Hey! I had that handled, I protested mentally.
She punched in a minute warming time while remembering the various times I'd broken dishes. "Don't give me that. Yes, you can do it, but you always make a mess."
I grumbled in annoyance, but the scent of the meat filling the air eased the losing of that battle. "I'm going to get that tass, O'Meara," I said.
"You're not, Thomas. Nobody in this house is ever going to see that much tass in one place. I'm not worth it," O'Meara said. She extracted the steak from the radiation box and wheeled toward me. "I'll be perfectly satisfied if I can walk again, magic or no magic." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll have to be patient. I lived as a human for my first fifteen years. I will... adjust. Officially resign my commission. Hell, people have been wanting me to do that for years." As she talked, her gaze became distant, long, useless years spiraling out beyond her.
I called her back by placing a paw on her knee. "O'Meara! It’s not impossible. I mean, I got three groat of tass yesterday from that transition. And there was more there! Lots more."
O'Meara shook herself, pushing her imagination away. "That tass is a windfall that should, by rights, go up the chain to the Inquisition."
I reached out and plucked the plate from her lap, carefully deposited it on the counter and placing my head where it had been. O'Meara's fingers slid through my head fur. "Are you suggesting I do that?"
"No. But technically you're my familiar so you gathering it counts as me gathering it. You should spend it. That should be enough for Ixey to rig up a spell that would allow you to operate a microwave without ripping them open."
I would not be deterred, even by the temptation of thumbs. "How often do transitions happen?"
O'Meara fingers quested for the spots that made thought difficult. I twisted, pressing my ears against her stomach. Denied them, O'Meara shifted to petting my neck and back. "They happen. Randomly. They're not good ways to acquire tass. They're impossible to predict, and the tass fades in less than an hour afterward. Most tass from the Houses come from shallowings, stable overlaps between realities."
Or grinding up live dragons, I thought.
That, as far as I know, is not a common practice. O'Meara fought back against a tide of memories from that night.
"So Thomas isn't even allowed to look for the scratch to help ya?" Rudy asked.
"He's my familiar. For legal purposes he's me. Normally, the Inquisition handles all the needs of their members. If they have a legitimate need for a quantity of tass, it will be provided," O'Meara said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice. "And it generally works for members in good standing."
"Well, maybe I shouldn't be your familiar anym
ore." The thought and the words slipped out before I had the chance to consider them.
The petting stopped. Cold dread poured out of the link. No. Please.
Despite that, we could both see the truth. Initially the bond had saved O'Meara's life. But now Ixey and Tallow were right. As long as O'Meara and I were bonded, there would be a temptation to channel. If I stayed, there would be no magic and I'd have no purpose. I'd be an overgrown house pet, bored, listless and eventually resentful.
Thomas please, not yet. Wait until I can walk again. Both hands pressed down on me as she flipped through things she could offer, reasons for me not to go.
That was the second transition I had seen in a month, O'Meara. What-ifs spiraled through my head. What were the odds that the transition had something to do with Archibald's dragon? Maybe the hole in reality at Valentine Park was finally starting to heal? Could that cause an increase in transitions? I'd gotten three groat from one item at the restaurant. I had seen dozens of tass lights in there. A hundred groat might not be that hard. Excitement at the thought of it sent the tip of my tail twitching. And if that didn't work, I could find a new client, get better pay and get O'Meara up on her magical feet again in a few years at max. I could be useful.
Across the link, O'Meara mind had become a storm of contradictory thoughts. Balls of fire, Thomas! Stop being so enthusiastic! Sadness rolled over the link, and I realized she had both arms around my neck and there was a creeping wetness on the top of my head where she had pressed her face. Thoughts and objections swarmed in her mind and faded. Things like it will never work, I'd forget about her, would surface and then be buried again.
It can work, I assured her.
The pressure of her arms became crushing. I have only one reason for you not to leave me, and it’s not enough to keep you. Anger rumbled within her. And it’s really a reason to let you go. She pulled away and I looked up into her green eyes that although wet had regained some of that spark. "I love you. If it were up to me, I'd never let you go." She laid her mindscape bare before me. I fell into her, our minds melting together for a moment, meshing together like a key and lock. She'd known and feared the echoes of her own thoughts. I'm only letting you go because I want you back. Understand that, she thought as we cradled each other.
We sorted through our brief time together, moments of bravery on both sides. I saw her, hair blazing with fire, again facing down Sabrina with searing beams bearing the heat of the sun, pouring everything she had into protecting me while I dealt with the dragon. Earlier in that moment I'd had a chance to reconnect our bond, but I hadn’t taken it, leaving her to face that terrible woman with only her fire. It hadn't been enough. Had I trusted O'Meara, Sabrina might have been defeated without a desperate deal with a dragon, the consequences of which would surely fall on us all once the Council of Merlins finished politicking.
She scoffed at my depiction of her. Facing Sabrina was my own decision. It’s not something you need to fix, Thomas.
Yes it is. I'm going to fix at least something in this world. You’re a good place to start. With that I pulled myself away from her, although her arms squeezed me tighter as we sorted ourselves into our own heads. Both of us left pieces behind. I stirred the being in the back of my mind that was my link. Mr. Bitey sleepily answered and our deep connection slowly began to close.
We shared a last inhalation together and breathed out alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It didn't hurt. Yet at the same time it was unbearable. I reached out with my mental limb and found nothing. It’s a piece of you that you either don't have until you have a link or is an undeveloped vestigial thing, like the muscles in your ears. Yet once you use it, once you depend on it, it’s an arm, a hand, a tongue, an eye and a cell phone all rolled into one pseudopod. Now there was nothing but the tiny mind of Mr. Bitey. Focused and uncaring, the snake pulled itself from the fabric of our reality and re-spooled itself into three-dimensional space.
Rudy chittered as a cobra, constructed of fine jewelry chain manifested in the air besides me, its tail rooted in my spine. Without a word or sound it slipped around my neck three times and disappeared in my thick fur.
I breathed and opened my eyes. I found O'Meara's face and licked away a tear.
"Ow! Cat tongue!" She pushed me away, only to trap me in a firm bear hug. "Seven," she said as she reluctantly let me go.
Seven. I was the seventh familiar she'd had. Most magi have one for life and the oldest and unfortunate might have three. O'Meara had lost seven in her relatively short life. It was both unheard of and a deep shame. I'd been different. I never intended for our bond to be lifelong, but O'Meara had always hoped that I wouldn't be that special after all.
She forced the most pained smile I have ever seen on her face or anyone's. "It was a good run. Thank you."
A chunk of me wanted to say I had just made a huge mistake and reverse what I’d just done. The deal with the dragon had given me absolute power over a bond. Mine. I could rebind her with a thought. Then I wouldn't be cold and alone in my own head. I found myself pressing into her hands, rubbing my scent on her. "I'm going to make you better, O'Meara. I swear it," I thought, then whispered.
"You'll try, I know that. But you don't owe me anything," she whispered back and let me go.
I didn't want to argue the point anymore. I looked to Rudy, who immediately stuck his head in the cashew can. "Come on Rudy. Let’s go."
Rudy popped back up with both cheek pouches stuffed for the road. "What? Ah okay. I'm about full anyway." With a graceful spring, he arced through the air and landed on my back.
We left out the back door. I didn't have the energy for any more goodbyes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Now you're free! Free to travel the world! See the sights, smell the femmes and mark your territory!" Rudy sang as soon as we got out of earshot of the house. We were traversing my usual path in the woods behind the homes and I'd turned toward town.
"I'm not free at all, Rudy. I gotta get that tass. A hundred groat," I huffed.
"That’s a tall order, and we ain't talking human height. We're talking 500-year-old oak tree tall. You only get that tall after getting all gnarled and twisted," Rudy said between crunching on nuts.
I chuckled. "Someway, somehow."
"Wait on the highway and show some leg. We hitch a ride to Vegas. There's trouble there that’s gonna need shooting.”
"I'm still thinking local. I don't think the Veil would like us in Vegas." I stopped to rub an itchy shoulder against one of my favorite scratching trees.
"No seriously," Rudy said, "there's no Veil in Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Anything magical happens and munds assume it was all a wild bender. Most magical city in the USA. If you want clients to get this whole freelance familiar thing happening, go there. I'll dig you up a fedora somewhere."
"I'll think about it," I said, itch now banished and resuming my stroll.
Rudy beamed. "We could be partners! Troubleshooters in the wild world of magi. Be a great act. You with your chain snake and me with the... awesomeness. We take Vegas by storm!"
"I suppose your expertise with explosives doesn't get put on the business card?"
"OH OH! That’s right! Fireworks are still legal in Vegas! Oh, I can get all the best stuff delivered if we go there!"
I had a mental image of a door bearing the words 'Thomas and Rudy, Freelance Familiar Agency on a pane of smoked glass shattered by a swarm of bottle rockets. "You're not allowed to doctor fireworks in the office!"
" Who said anything about an office?" Rudy protested.
"Well, if I have a fedora, then I need an office for dangerous dames to come into and tell me their sad stories about how their no-good husbands are trying to frame them for murder," I said.
"No no no. That’s New York. PI's in Vegas wear mirrored shades and Hawaiian shirts."
Rudy and I continued to debate the proper way to run a freelancing office in Las Vegas as I wandered through the forest.
I'd originally set out with a destination in mind but got so involved in the conversation that I defaulted to patrolling my territory, enjoying, if just for a few hours, not having to be careful with my thoughts. I had no intention of moving to Vegas. Noise lived in Grantsville, and the only shot of getting that tass quickly would be here. Nevertheless, entertaining the idea without guilt was fun.
As the afternoon stretched I realized I'd been drifting toward Noise's place. She'd be happy to hear that I no longer had a magus looking over my shoulder. And she'd have a fridge full of meat.
Rudy and I had lapsed into silence after a surprisingly heated discussion on whose name goes first on the door to our hypothetical office when I saw it. A purple flash in the dark of my eyelids.
"TRANSITION!" I sprang to my feet so fast that Rudy cried out.
"Hey, what’s the big idea? You nearly launched me into orbit!" Rudy chittered as I broke into a trot.
"There's a transition up there! Get my tass bag out!" I broke into a flat out run as I saw the outline of a large house emerge from the thinning trees. "You can hop off when we get close. My harness has a focus that should protect me from getting warped." The light of the magic shone ever brighter; if this transition was like the one with Noise, then I didn't have much time.
"Got it!" Rudy said as I reached a fence that guarded the backyard, a tall wooden job painted a dull brown. Standing on my hind legs, I peeked into a yard littered with colorful toys. A daycare center. Beyond it stood a ranch house that had been expanded into the backyard. I swore internally. Little kids wouldn't be able to read the letters on my harness that spelled out SERVICE DOG. They'd see a huge cat. If they all screamed ‘Kitty!’ then the adults might see a cat too.
Worse than that, the back door had a hated round knob on it. With a growl, we circled around to the front. Rudy leapt onto the fence and paused. "Hey Thomas," Rudy said.
Marking Territory (Freelance Familiars Book 2) Page 4
