"Yeah, that's a problem," I admitted. "I can't let go."
Maggie snorted again and raised her head up and down in annoyance.
I was saved from further questions by the approach of a partially naked Squirrel, who had taken a moment to pull on jeans. I marveled at just how cut the burly man was. When clothed, it was easy to attribute his bulk to middle-aged sag, an image I'd been disabused of more than once this evening.
"Man, I gotta get me some of that," Amak said under her breath.
I guffawed as a red blush started low on Squirrel’s neck, bloomed through his face, and even lit his bald pate in the bright moonlight. Clearly, he'd heard Amak's comment.
"What's next, wizard?" Squirrel approached, avoiding eye contact with her.
"How did we get jumped by that ogre?" I asked.
"It must have been returning from a long-loop patrol. Just as the wind masked our scent from the ogre compound, his was masked from us as he approached from the south."
"We need to track down that BMW's owner," I said with a nod. "And we need to keep watch on the ogres. Do you think your pack could help with surveillance?"
"I don't see what we got out of tonight," he said, "other than Max nearly having his leg torn off."
"A lead on who's either helping or directing that group. And this." I held my stone hand forward, the leather cord still hanging out on either side of my clenched fist.
"That smells of magic."
"You'll have to be more specific," I said. "What part of my enchanted hand isn't magic?"
"The smell is different," he replied plainly. "The magic of the item in your hand smells of rot and disease."
Maggie once again shook her massive rack and complained with a bugle.
I patted her shoulder with my good hand hoping to instill calm. "What does magic smell like otherwise?"
"It varies. Yours smells of peat moss, mountain clay, embers of a new fire and fresh growth of herb plants."
I nodded my head. "It's possible the ogres have been compelled into service."
"Ogres resist magic, Slade," Amak said. "But then, they're also not normally aggressive."
"There's no denying the magic of this amulet and the cord that bound it to the ogre. What better foil could you send against a practitioner than ogres? Rosen was clearly not prepared to defend against their assault."
"We'll do it," Squirrel said. "We'll watch the ogres and report back. I warn you, though, look at that moon. Joe has grown in his control, but he's fighting the change every night we grow closer to the full moon. You have forty-four hours before it rises and the feds put Joe in a hole we both know he’ll never come back from."
"How can I reach you?"
"Daphne has a mobile," he said, reciting the number.
I awoke to the smell of rosemary and sandalwood and the light brush of Gabriella's lips on my own. As I opened my eyes, I was comforted by the fact that she was clothed. I was still a little paranoid about waking up again in the demon's dungeon on the Kaelstan plane.
"Big night?" she asked, softly.
I stroked her hair with my left hand, smoothing the blaze of white behind her ear. "What time is it?"
"One o'clock," she said as I pushed myself to a seated position against the padded headboard. "What is that?" She pointed at the leather cord that stuck out from either side of my stone hand. "And, what's wrong with your hand?" The pitch of her voice went up with her rising concern.
"Right," I said, buying myself a moment to think. "Not like you're not going to hear it all eventually anyway."
I held my closed fist up to her and she cradled it, gently. "Two things going on here," I started. "First, the stone hand is a new enchantment I learned last night."
"Learned? From who?"
I sighed. I had this coming. "I made a deal with Gester."
"You didn't," she gasped. "Felix. He's a demon. He's killed hundreds that we know of and probably thousands more. There is no deal that can be made with the likes of him that will not hurt you. I thought we were clear on this."
"The spell was in my library."
"You mother's library," she corrected.
"Right. My mother's library. I read the spell too quickly and didn't recognize the permanence."
"Oh, Felix." She looked at me with serious concern and kissed my clenched fist. A lump formed in my throat. In that single action, she'd communicated two things: she was with me no matter what and my carelessness affected both of us.
"I know," I said. "So beyond the fact that he got the better of me, he did fulfill his part of the bargain. The spell was very effective against ogres."
"How far does it go up?"
"What do you mean? It's just my hand," I said.
"Definitely not," she said. "Look!"
I lifted my arm. The stone had crept from my wrist to halfway up my forearm. "Damn."
"We'll figure it out," Gabriella said. "What is it that you're holding?"
I explained finding the ogres, the fight and the mystery of the black BMW.
"What was the plate number?" Gabriella asked, pulling out her phone.
"Why?"
She smiled at me patiently. "I still have friends in LPD."
"A-DOGR," I repeated.
"I'm not calling that in." She looked at me and shook her head. It was a gesture she used when demonstrating my general lack of mundane world knowledge.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Seriously, were you born under a rock?" she asked, smiling.
"I don't get it."
"Artful Dodger," she said.
"Could fit," I said. In my defense, I was sure I'd heard the phrase before, but I couldn't quite place it. Maybe something in high school.
"Fagin. Artful Dodger. It's too much of a coincidence."
I shook my head as I typed the three words into my phone's web search. I was painfully slow as only my left hand could type. The first result was a reference to the book Oliver Twist. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged innocently.
I was rescued from answering when my phone rang. "Slade."
"What were you doing in Rosen's house?" Dukats asked.
"We should talk," I said.
"You took something from the safe, Slade, what was it?"
"Not on the phone," I said.
"Where?"
"Highway Diner."
"Thirty minutes," she said and hung up.
"What was that about?"
"Want to go to breakfast with Dukats?" I asked.
"What about your hand?"
"I have an idea on how to free the amulet," I said, getting out of bed. "Lapide pugno, is another matter, however."
"Stone fist. The spell translates literally to stone first, Felix. Was this no clue to you?"
"Sure, I did the translating. I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so literal. The spell was in an early Persian script," I said.
"Didn't you say Rosen's staff had Persian writing on it? What would your mother be doing with an ancient Persian scroll with such a powerful enchantment on it?"
"No such thing as coincidence in my life. I just don't know how she's mixed up in this," I said. "I need to spend time in the lab and do more research. But first, I need to get my hand to open."
"How?"
"Something that Squirrel said about how the amulet smells of rot and decay."
"Call him Kyle," Gabriella said. "It is not good to objectify someone, for fear they might lose a sense of who they really are."
"He really doesn't seem to mind."
We'd taken the back stairway down to the alcove where the doors at the back of the house met. The wizard's lock was easier this time, the familiar pattern starting to make sense with my off-hand.
"Does this mean you've lost spell casting with your right as well?" Gabriella asked.
"No." I worked at the more complex lock on the laboratory door. It took me twice to overcome the traps but I finally opened it. "Would you grab four kelp leaves, the red clover, Echinacea, and Psyllium hulls? I need
to clean out the cauldron."
Gabriella disappeared into the closet that adjoined the laboratory. I'd worked steadily over the last year to fill the shelves with well-preserved components of all types. After wiping the cauldron clean, I splashed a cup of purified water into the bottom and set about crushing together the ingredients Gabriella provided.
"Is this an enchantment?"
"Nope. One of Gia's poultices," I said. "It will draw out the infection."
"How can you be sure?" she asked, pouring the components I'd crushed into the cauldron.
"I can't. As you know, much of magic is the belief we have in it. This poultice has pulled more than one infection from my body," I said, wetting the kelp leaves in the warming water and laying them onto the black table top.
I pulled a silvered knife from its position next to the cauldron and handed it to Gabriella. "I'll need you to slice the palm of my hand. Without the use of my right, this is rather difficult."
"You know I hate this," she said, holding the blade.
"Just hold it still and close your eyes."
"No," she said, annoyed, "I'm with you, Felix." She sliced the palm of my hand.
I jerked my hand away as if she'd wounded me deeply and Gabriella pulled back in shock. When I laughed, she was not amused.
"Jerk."
"Guilty." I dripped a few drops into the cauldron and stirred with the end of the silvered knife. The poultice wasn't an enchantment, so I wasn't waiting for it to set, but I also knew my blood would strengthen its capacity for healing. After the mixture came to a boil, I dropped the kelp leaves on top and continued to stir until they were completely softened.
"Spread the mixture onto the leaves and wrap them around my hand," I said. "There are gloves on the first shelf."
"It's too hot, Felix."
"The gloves will protect you."
"I'll burn your hand."
"Well, first, it's stone. Second, as long as it's below boiling, I can take it," I said.
"No funny stuff." Gabriella cuffed me lightly with the back of her hand. "I already feel bad enough about this."
I let her off the hook as she expertly applied the bandages which held the poultice against my stone hand. She used the leather cords of the amulet to tie the leaves into place.
"That should do it," I said. "Now let's get some breakfast."
"You're going like that?"
"I don't see much of a choice."
"You could at least wear a glove."
It was a fifteen-minute drive from home to the Highway Diner and by the time we arrived, all I could think about was the big breakfast that awaited.
"Are you buying?" Dukats asked as she joined us at the counter.
"Certainly," I said. "Anything for a public servant."
"If only. Just coffee for me." She tossed two dollars onto the counter and accepted a freshly poured cup of some of the worst coffee in town. A person didn't come to the diner for the coffee. The breakfast, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
After ordering, we joined Dukats at a booth that overlooked the highway. I sank deeply into the bench seat where the old springs had mostly collapsed.
"About Rosen's house last night? You said you wanted to talk."
"Have your notebook handy?" I asked.
She nodded and pulled it out, pencil in hand. I reeled off the address of the ogre farm.
"What's that?"
"The giant men that attacked Oppelt and Omer live there," I said.
"How do you know that?"
I raised my eyebrows. "I gave you something, now you need to give me something. That's how this works."
"Hardly. You're an informant."
"Felix has done nothing wrong." Gabriella pounced on Dukats words. "And you're not paying him. He is not your informant." I wasn't sure why she was so offended.
"We're after the same thing, Iveta," I said.
"To lock up Rosen's killer, which I believe I've already done."
"If you really believed that, you wouldn't be here. I need an address from a license plate," I said.
"Whose license plate?"
"Not sure. But I saw it at the address I gave you, where the ogres live," I said.
"Ogres?"
"Big men," I said. "Slip of the tongue and you'd be wise to forget I said it."
"How do you know the car doesn't belong to your big men?"
"It's a BMW sports car," I said. "They'd never fit."
She looked at me quizzically for a moment and then it dawned on her what I was implying. "What's the plate," she asked, sighing.
I repeated it: A-DOGR.
"Artful Dodger?" she asked. "Are you saying you think that's Fagin's vehicle?"
"No. I have no idea."
"He's never read Oliver Twist," Gabriella said.
Dukats dialed her phone while shaking her head. "How is that even possible?"
"Right?" Gabriella agreed, shrugging her shoulders.
I found I was more than willing to forgive them both because my big stack of hotcakes arrived. I lost track of the conversation at that point as I covered them with butter and drenched them in syrup.
Dukats talked for a moment and hung up her phone.
"Find him?" I asked.
"The car belongs to Lon Fagin," she said. "I'll save you the trouble of dropping by his home. He's not there. By the look of things, he won't be going there anytime soon."
"Why is that?"
"He's wanted for questioning in the murder of Thanda Williston," she said. "His vehicle was seen driving away from the murder scene and he's one of her known associates."
"Does he have any business addresses?" I asked.
She scrawled an address onto a napkin. "He has a warehouse downtown. It was locked up when we got there and we don't yet have enough for a search warrant. Now my turn. What were you doing at Rosen's house and how did you find that safe?"
"Is this conversation being recorded?"
"No," she said. Gabriella stiffened next to me, which was unnecessary. Gabriella was better at detecting lies, but I had no difficulty picking up on that one. Dukats loved the truth and the lie warred with her very soul.
"Turn it off, Iveta," I said.
"We're hardly on a first name basis."
I smiled slightly at her poorly veiled attempt to rattle me. "I lifted the veil for you, Iveta. Not only are we on a first name basis, but you are now my responsibility."
That got her back up. "I'm fine on my own."
"There are many in my universe who would kill to keep secret their identities. The world you've been exposed to is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. We are stronger together as friends than we are as adversaries."
"What makes you think we're friends?"
I felt my gloved fist relax and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Turn it off. I have more to show you," I said.
Gabriella tipped her head toward me. She'd heard the relief in my voice as I spoke.
Dukats pulled a recorder from her pocket and set it on the table. It was a small, unassuming device.
"Is that the only one?" Gabriella asked.
Dukats nodded her head affirmatively.
With my left hand, I pulled the glove from my right, exposing the leaf covering and the stony skin beneath.
"What's this?"
"Gabriella, would you do the honors?"
Gabriella pulled the kelp leaves off and allowed the poultice to sluff off onto the table. I twisted my wrist, capturing Dukats full attention as I opened my stone hand. The magic from the amulet I'd snagged from the ogre had finally leached out.
"What’s wrong with your hand?"
"Bad magic," I said, not interested in getting into it with her. "I believe Fagin is using these amulets to control the ogres. Iveta, you're in over your head. It might be time to make a call to Agent Anderson."
"What, so the FBI can sweep two murders under the rug? Whoever or whatever killed Thanda and Rosen need to be brought to justice.
"
Chapter 11
No, Yoda
"You think Lace would mind visiting Fagin’s warehouse with me tonight?" I asked.
"Are you asking me for an opinion or as her coven leader?" Gabriella asked.
"Both, I guess."
We'd spent the afternoon trying to make sense of the book I found in Rosen's safe. The ancient Persian script was difficult to translate and read more like a religious text than anything else. There were constant references to the demigoddess, Adajania, and her struggles against other demigods not specifically named.
"Ask her," Gabriella said. "Learning anything?"
"I'm pretty sure I don't want to meet this Adajania chick," I said. "She's a bad-ass necromancer and illusionist. There's a story in here where she enslaved an entire village that offended her. She made them believe they were surrounded by a volcano and the only way to keep it at bay was to sacrifice their first-born daughters to the fire, but only after they'd made it to puberty."
"That's horrible. They killed their daughters?" Gabriella asked.
"Most of them. If she liked a girl, though, she'd make a big deal about taking her alive, whisking her off in a tornado of fire."
"You think that's true?"
"Hard to tell. Says here Adajania lives in a fortress amongst the demons. I guess she took the girls there and gave them long lives. According to the text, demons are so afraid of her ability to bend their perceptions that they avoid her fortress in exchange for her leaving them alone. There are at least four other gods or goddesses: war, death, earth and balance. Apparently, they tussle a bit."
I closed the book and slid it on top of the pile of other books I'd been reading. The fact that it was written in such an ancient language was making my head hurt and I'd had enough.
"How's your arm?" Gabriella asked.
I pulled up my sleeve. "Not great." The stone form had reached my elbow. "Maybe I should see if Gester wants to trade something."
"Because that worked so well for you already!" Gabriella said sarcastically. "You can't trust a demon, Felix. He killed hundreds of people in North Carolina and he'll kill you if he can."
"He might have already," I said.
"Don't talk like that. We'll figure it out. I'll talk to Willow. We'll do a healing ritual on the full moon."
Wizard Unleashed Page 11
