The Left-Hand Path: Mentor

by T. S. Barnett

  Cora looked up at Elton warily. “Are we really just going to sit here while they...you know?”

  Elton cleared his throat, took off his jacket, and rolled up his shirt sleeves without answering her. He gathered up the soiled mortar and pestle, taking them into the kitchen to clean them. He hoped the running water would stave off any noise, but when he finished and set the basin upside down to dry, he could hear the telltale pants and creaking springs coming from the next room. He returned to the living room and took his place beside Cora, sitting as straight-backed as possible and pressing his hands awkwardly between his knees. He didn’t want to look at her.

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, and she lifted one of the throw pillows from the couch and folded it over her ears. “Can’t we even go outside? Please?”

  Elton glanced down the hall for a moment and then nodded at her, and both of them made their way quickly out the front door and onto the porch. The sounds were suitably muffled there, at least.

  “You know,” Elton offered after a moment, if only to drown out what noises filtered through the door, “I could teach you some things. You said you were adopted—do you know anything about your birth parents, or your heritage?”

  “My parents are white, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I don’t mean to pry,” he said gently. “I only thought I’d mention it. Vancouver has a substantial Chinese population, so I’ve picked up a fair bit of that sort of magic. I could teach you, or if you did want help from the Magistrate, you might not think of Canada as such a bad option.”

  She gave him a faint smirk as she settled into one of the plastic chairs near the edge of the porch. “I don’t know; you guys don’t really live in igloos, do you? I grew up in Arizona.”

  He smiled. “No igloos. It’s Vancouver, not Iqaluit.”

  “Iqaluit—did I even say that right?—is not a real place.”

  “What? Of course it is; it’s the capital of Nunavut.”

  “Now you’re just making up words.”

  Elton started to argue but saw the smile on her face and realized he was being teased. “In any case,” he said with a quick cough, “I can share what I know if you like, and my offer stands to recommend you to the Magistrate. Take it as you like.”

  “Is that why you have those tattoos, and your necklace? You grew up with a lot of Chinese people?”

  Elton seemed mildly taken aback that she’d mentioned them, and his hand instinctively moved to touch the cylinder hidden under his shirt.

  “Are they magic? The tattoos, I mean. Nathan’s got a bunch, but I don’t know if they’re all magic, or just that one circle one, or he’s just a rebel, or what.”

  Elton gave a faint smile and glanced down at his own exposed forearms, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. “Most people get them because they’re feeling rebellious, I think. I can’t speak for Nathan, but mine aren’t magic, no. They’re just...a reminder of a different path I might have taken.”

  “A different path?”

  “Nobody’s born a Chaser,” Elton said, and Cora smiled up at him from her chair.

  “You’re kidding,” she chuckled. “You’re going to try to tell me you—you—have some kind of bad boy past? I don’t buy it.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he objected, but he hesitated before speaking again. “I...got into some trouble when I was young. Young men do silly things.”

  “What kind of trouble makes you get tattoos?”

  Elton sighed through his nose, not inclined in the slightest to give up his life story, but Cora’s curious face won him over. He remembered being her age, and he could see how taken she was with the reckless lifestyle Nathan had offered her. He didn’t think of himself as the teaching type, but he could at least show her there was another way.

  “My best friend growing up was this kid Keung Li Jie. His older brother was a Triad. Li Jie and I did some work for him when we were teenagers—don’t ask me what kind,” he cut her off when she opened her mouth. “The illegal and stupid kind. I barely avoided having a permanent record. I don’t think they would have let me join properly, since I’m not Chinese, but I was close enough with Li Jie and his brother that I didn’t get many nasty looks. Li Jie’s brother was the one who took me to get my tattoos. As you can imagine, he was a little disappointed when I told them I wanted to work for the Magistrate.”

  She edged forward in her chair. “What changed your mind? I mean, what made you want to be a cop instead of a criminal?”

  Elton paused. “Li Jie got arrested for murder. He’d just turned eighteen, so they tried him as an adult. The Magistrate took him from the mundane prison to punish him themselves. He went to the Magistrate’s prison on Vancouver Island, and he died there within three months. It’s not a place you ever want to go. I guess I got scared straight. I joined the academy shortly after he was sentenced. Steady pay, the chance to keep people like Li Jie from getting into big trouble. It seemed like the right choice for me.”

  “Who did he murder?” Cora asked, but Elton shook his head.

  “It doesn’t matter. I was trying to tell you that I know some Chinese magic.”

  Cora sat back in her chair without pressing him. “So what does the amulet do?”

  “It’s just a ward against black magic. A talisman made for me by Li Jie’s grandmother. A paper that’s been blessed and rolled up into this little container.” He slipped the chain over his head and let her take the necklace from him. “Just don’t open it; I have no idea how she rolled it up small enough to fit in there.”

  Before Cora could answer, Elton’s phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out to look at the screen. Jocelyn. He knew he hadn’t spoken to her in days, but if he told her what he was doing, she would only worry and tell him he was taking stupid risks. If he lied to her, she would surely find out—and he didn’t want to, besides. He could at least explain himself when he wasn’t standing on a strange woman’s porch with untoward noises drifting down the hallway. He slid the phone back into his pocket and promised himself he would call her back that evening.

  Cora watched him from her chair until he glanced at her. “Who are you avoiding?”

  “I’m not avoiding—” He paused and sighed. “It just isn’t the time for a private conversation.”

  “Is it your wife?” she asked, nodding toward him as she handed him his amulet. “You said you were married. Is she waiting for you at home?”

  “Always,” he answered, tucking the pendant under his shirt again. “In any case,” he began again, hoping to change the subject, “I’ll put you in contact with someone in Vancouver who can help you, if you like. The most important thing to know is that in a lot of ways, Eastern magic is similar to every other sort of magic. There is light magic and dark. Practitioners of the Tao use natural elements, spirits, even things like sound vibrations to change the world around them. It’s a different method than what you’d learn in school or what Nathan does, but like everything else, what matters is your intention. The goal is to be in harmony with the natural universe, to act without action. I don’t always succeed,” he smiled. “If you intend to practice dark magic—which I hope you’ve seen more than your share of by now—then they say you have followed the Tao of the Left, or the left-handed path.”

  “This is a little philosophical for me right now,” Cora chuckled. She sat on the front step and was drew doodles into the dirt with a pointed stick. “Is there a manual or something?”

  “Not that would make it any simpler,” he chuckled. “Maybe later this evening I can show you some inscriptions.”

  She squinted up at him through the sun. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, Canada probably isn’t so bad,” she said. “Is it ever ninety-five degrees in October in Canada?”

  “It’s hardly ever ninety-five degrees in July,” Elton said. “But we make up for it with lots of snow.”

  “And dog sled races?”

  “Yes, and dog sled races. And if you join the Magistrate, you
’ll get your very own moose to ride to work.”

  “Canada sounds awesome.”

  Elton chuckled and turned his head as he heard a door close inside. Through the screen door, he saw Nathan ambling down the hallway, completely naked and with his torso and arm smeared with blood. He bent over the coffee table, a sight from which Elton decided to avert his eyes, and a moment later was calling to them that it was all finished.

  He put a hand on Cora’s shoulder to keep her from going inside until he saw Nathan disappear back into the hall, hopefully to put some clothes on. The gris gris sat on the table, looking rather innocuous really—just a simple leather pouch—but Elton didn’t have to get very near to it at all to sense the power it held. Even if he didn’t trust Nathan to have the best intentions, he had trouble doubting his skill.

  Elton and Cora waited in the living room while the shower ran in the back of the house. He was glad Nathan was at least washing off before they got back on the road. He shook hands with Olivia and gave her the last of his cash as payment, and Nathan returned with a bandage wrapped around the wound on his forearm. He slid the string of the trick bag over his neck and tucked the pouch into his shirt.

  “Safe and sound,” he grinned. “It has to be kept close to a beating heart for at least a day, or until you’re ready to use it. I’ll do my best to stay alive until then.” He ignored Elton’s sigh and smiled at Olivia. “Thank you,” he said, bending in to touch a kiss to her cheek. “It was a pleasure.”

  “Stay out of trouble,” she answered as she shooed him away. She stood on the porch to see them go, and when they were out of sight, she shut the door and set about putting wards on all the windows and doors. She wasn’t about to risk drawing a lich to her door.

  16

  Nathan drove away from the house with Elton in the seat beside him, as Cora chose to curl up in the back.

  “That’s it then?” Elton asked, nodding toward the pouch strung around Nathan’s neck. “We just need to find the phylactery.”

  “And I know just the person to ask,” Nathan said. “I’ve never known anyone more skilled in divination. As long as she still lives in the same place, we should be golden.”

  “Why are we asking anyone at all? How many people are we involving in this?”

  “Do you know what spell to cast to locate something like that? I don’t.”

  “No,” Elton admitted. “And if she doesn’t live in the same place?”

  Nathan shrugged. “We go find the next-best person in divination, I guess. You can pick next time.”

  “Where is this person?”

  “Sells.”

  “Sells? That’s a town?”

  “Doesn’t Canada have a city called Yellowknife?”

  “And Iqaluit,” Cora added sleepily from the back seat.

  “See? And what she said. Shut it. You ask a lot of questions for somebody that’s having the work done for them.”

  “Without your bullshit, I wouldn’t have to—” Elton stopped and took a breath, just facing forward in his seat and watching the road as the city disappeared into desert.

  Nathan smiled, but he paused when he looked in the rear view mirror and saw a car that he recognized. He couldn’t count the number of times he had groaned at seeing Phillip Martin’s car pull up to the spot outside his apartment. Nathan was impressed he’d been able to find them, really, but he supposed he knew to expect them at Olivia’s. Silly not to have kept a better eye out.

  “I could really do with a bite to eat,” he said to Elton. “I tired myself out, you know. What I do is hard work.”

  “How far is it to Sells?”

  Nathan shrugged. “Three and a half hours, maybe.”

  “And you can’t wait three and a half hours?”

  “Well I could, Elton, but I shouldn’t have to. This isn’t Russia. Look, here’s Wellton; let’s just stop and get something to eat. And maybe a beer,” he added as he pointed to a sign marking a highway exit.

  “No beer,” Elton insisted, but Nathan only scoffed and turned off when he reached the exit.

  “You’re not my mother.”

  Nathan drove into the town of Wellton, ignoring Elton’s grumpy snorts, and he carried on until he reached a small tan building with a tiled awning and a hand-painted sign designating it as Geronimo’s. He noted Elton’s sigh and glanced over at him.

  “It’s Arizona. Get used to Mexican food.”

  “Well a bit of variety wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Elton would have committed violence for some dim sum.

  Nathan pulled into a parking spot and turned in his seat to gently shake Cora awake. She stirred at his touch but seemed reluctant to move from the seat. “Sorry, my love,” he said with a faint smile. “We need to keep you fed. You can go back to sleep in a little bit.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned as she pulled herself up by the roll bar. “I just don’t want to talk to anyone. Just order me, like, a thousand tacos.” She took Nathan’s offered hand and hopped down to the asphalt, following the two men across the parking lot.

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder as he held the door for Elton, and he smirked as he saw Phillip Martin’s grey Corolla pull into the lot behind them. So predictable. He followed a waitress to their assigned table and slid into the side of the booth facing the door, purposely catching eyes with the other Chaser when he opened the door a minute later. Phillip seemed mildly annoyed to have been recognized and even more annoyed when Nathan began to ignore him in favor of ordering the largest plate of nachos the restaurant was capable of serving.

  “So who is this woman we’re going to meet?” Elton asked while he inspected the tortilla soup the waitress placed in front of him. “I don’t suppose she has any reason to expect us, does she? How do you even know she’ll still be there?”

  “I knew her quite a while ago,” Nathan said. He paused to count on his fingers before continuing, “Maybe fifty or sixty years ago? She was very young though; it’s quite likely she’s still alive. Not to worry.”

  “It’s quite likely she’s still alive,” Elton echoed, staring at Nathan despite his complete lack of attention. “You might have mentioned this detail before we started driving toward this potentially nonexistent place.”

  “Well obviously the place isn’t nonexistent, Elton,” Nathan scoffed with a mouth full of nachos. “Her house might be, but places don’t just cease to exist.”

  “I’m going to make you cease to exist if you’re taking us on some pointless detour. Can’t you at least call?”

  “Well let’s see,” Nathan said, holding out his hands to flip through an invisible Rolodex. “The last time I had to call her, her phone number was probably something like eight four five. If you let me borrow your phone, I can see if it still works.” He dropped his hands and stared pointedly across the table at Elton. “It was the forties. Maybe if you want to get the switchboard operator on the line, we could ask her to connect us.”

  Elton shook his head and stirred his soup. “You are such an ass.”

  “Where are we going?” Cora asked, one elbow leaned on the table. “I was sleeping kind of.”

  “Sells is on the Tohono O’odham reservation,” Nathan explained. “It’s right on the Mexican border.”

  “Awesome,” she said lazily.

  Nathan ignored Elton’s further grumbling about the impracticality of their plan, glancing periodically across the dim restaurant at Phillip’s lonely table. When he finished eating, he let Elton pay for the meal and assured his companions that he would meet them at the car after a trip to the bathroom. He kept Phillip’s gaze as he stood and allowed Elton and Cora to open the front door, then he tilted his head to urge the Chaser to follow him. Without looking back, he threaded his way through the tables to the small hallway marked as the restroom and pushed open the men’s room door. He glanced around the room and under the stall doors to check for other occupants, but found no one.

  Phillip entered the bathroom with a scowl, but he instinctively backed away from
Nathan as he moved to stand just in front of him. Nathan reached past him to lock the door behind them and gave him a sidelong smirk.

  “Is that a gun in your pocket, Phil, or are you just happy to see me?” he asked with a chuckle. “You know better than to be so violent around all these regs.”

  “The moment you slip up, Moore, I’ll be right here. I don’t know what dorche you’ve worked on Willis to get him to help you, but I will put a stop to it.”

  Nathan tilted his head, a grin pulling at his lips. “Work dorche? On Elton? Oh, Phillip, you poor dear. You understand so little about the way of the world, don’t you? Ours is a private matter. You don’t really want to know about what we’re doing anyway, believe me. It’s all very complicated and dangerous. Hardly the thing for a Chaser of your abilities.”

  Phillip’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am the Magistrate’s representative in this district,” he growled. “And I will see justice done.”

  Nathan rolled his eyes, his sigh echoing through the unpleasantly chartreuse room. He prepared a witty retort in his head, but when he opened his mouth to voice it, his breath came out in a puff of steam. He paused and let out another slow breath to make sure he hadn’t imagined it, and a chill ran up his spine. He knew this feeling. Only undead could make the very air turn cold around them. His friend was coming. Nathan smiled at Phillip and leaned in close to him, his eyes momentarily flitting shut as he took a quick breath near the other man’s lips. Phillip stumbled immediately, the air drawn from his lungs in an instant, and the Chaser clutched at his throat and fumbled helplessly against the bathroom wall as he slid down it.

  “Oh, Phil,” Nathan sighed, a slow smile on his lips. “You’re in over your head. Enjoy.” He took a step back and pushed Phillip’s thrashing hands away from him as the room grew colder. It would be there in just a moment. As he flicked the lock on the door and pulled it open wide enough to slip out, he saw the blue mist seeping down from the frosted window and caught a glimpse of the tattered cloth hanging from the patchy skin formed on the lich’s bones.