Magic and the Shinigami Detective

by Honor Raconteur

  I didn’t like how he said this. “She goes down often?”

  “Not anymore, thankfully. This is the first time she’s scared me in nearly eight months. It was only at first, when I didn’t know how to properly help her, that we struggled with it.” He took in a breath, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his face. “Thank you for not losing your head.”

  This man might feel more strongly about her than I myself did. “Thank you for immediately coming to the rescue.”

  “Always will, old chap, always will.” He took another sip of tea, a flash of genuine humor crossing his face. “You realize that only one of us can be her lover, don’t you?”

  For a moment I couldn’t fathom what he meant, then the words made sense, and I spluttered. “L-lover?!”

  “I’m more inclined toward friend, so I’ll let you have lover,” Seaton declared with a wicked smirk.

  “Seaton,” I managed to find my tongue somehow, “I have multiple issues with this assumption, but let’s tackle this in order. I’m more inclined towards friend as well.”

  “Oh.” Seaton frowned, nose wrinkling up. “But I’m too old to be her lover!”

  “My dear fellow, I invite you to imagine what she would do if we decided who her lover should be.”

  Seaton’s eyes crossed and he gave a shudder that traveled from head to toe and back again. “I take your point. She’d murder us in our own beds.”

  I nodded somberly. “Do cease and desist, will you? I value living.”

  Jamie Edwards made a perfectly terrible patient.

  “Stop blocking me, Sherard, and let me up!” Edwards wallowed upright, exhibiting nothing of her usual grace. In fact, a pig wallowing in a sty had more dignity.

  With a knowing gleam in his eye, Sherard planted one finger in the dead center of her forehead and casually pushed. She flopped back as if a gale force wind had hit her, making the mattress bounce a little, which the detective didn’t appreciate. I’d seen kinder looks on a contract killer.

  “One finger rule,” Seaton informed her cheerfully, as if unaware that she silently plotted out the details of his funeral.

  I knew this woman well enough to expect an explosion, and my right foot started edging for the door. To my surprise, she glared, grumped, and subsided with ill grace. Wait, what? Not willing to become the target of her ire, I turned to Seaton for an explanation.

  He answered the question written all over my face with a sotto voice. “We developed rules. If I can push her back with a single finger, she stays in bed. If it takes two, she can get up for brief amounts of time. Three, she can change to resting on a couch or chair. When it takes a full hand to push her back, then she’s on the mend. If she can actually resist me, then she can return to work.”

  Did I want to know how many times she’d fallen, how many times her body had betrayed her, for them to work out a system like this? As if to soothe her, Seaton stated, “You’re already awake after nine hours of sleep, which is a record for you. Thanks to Davenforth’s efforts, I think you’ll be back on your feet within the next three days or so.”

  That pulled her out of the doldrums long enough to give me a look askance.

  Did I want to admit to this? Even if it were a matter of emergency aid, I had taken liberties with a young woman, which would send most of them straight into vapors. Then again, Edwards herself had executed CPR on a perfect stranger without a second of hesitation, so likely she wouldn’t grow irate at me. “I performed CPR on you while you were down.”

  Her dark eyebrows arched into her hairline. “Thank you. I’m surprised that helped.”

  “You’d stopped breathing,” Seaton explained concisely.

  Edwards winced. “Ah. That bad, eh? No wonder I feel like something the cat dragged in, then. I’m now very glad I taught you CPR, Henri.”

  “So am I.” Those three words were the largest understatement in the history of all time. Clearing my throat, I moved us deliberately past the topic. “Captain Gregson came by earlier to check on you, as did your friend Ellie Warner. They have several questions. I’ll be your scribe if you wish to make a written report.”

  Grateful for something constructive to do, she agreed immediately, “Yes, please. Tell me, did we catch any of them?”

  “Sadly, no. But you wounded one, and I was able to collect his blood.”

  “And with that we can track them down later.” Edwards sighed, although there was a trace of humor in the curve of her mouth. “They got me, I got them. We even got a lead on them. Might be a fair trade?”

  “Speaking as the person who has covered for you, it’s a bad trade,” I deadpanned right back at her. “Try not to repeat the experience.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” Pointing to her vanity table, she instructed, “There’s paper and fountain pens in the top center drawer.”

  I fetched the required instruments, along with a portable writing table that saw obvious use, judging by the ink stains along the sides of the blotter. Seaton ducked out of the room, clattering about in the kitchen, while Edwards dictated the report to me. I found it interesting that she noticed different things than I did. Scents and sounds, mostly. Because of her enhanced senses? Or perhaps her Earthly training? Some mix of the two?

  With that done, I sealed it properly for her and called for a courier. Seaton returned at that point with a bowl of steaming soup, which he placed in front of her on a breakfast tray. It smelled strongly of butter and milk, the contents white, although I didn’t recognize it. Edwards, however, lit up and promptly dug a spoon into it. “You’re my favorite,” she crooned to Seaton happily.

  “Potato soup,” Seaton informed me, taking the sideways compliment with a pleased expression. “It’s the only thing she wants to eat when she’s down like this. She taught me how after the first time, and I’ve made it ever since for her.”

  I’d never heard of the like and I grew immensely curious. “Did you only make enough for one bowl?”

  Edwards laughed, pointing her spoon toward the door. “Go on. I know you’re dying to try it.”

  I wasted no time in vacating my chair and hustling toward the kitchen. As I fetched my own bowl, I could hear Seaton and Edwards conversing through the open bedroom doorway.

  “He likes food, I take it?”

  “Like is not the word,” Edwards retorted, the spoon making small chink sounds as she stirred her soup. “Henri speaks about food the way that men describe a beautiful woman, or a sexy car. He has a love affair with food.”

  I couldn’t deny the allegation, if that was what it was, and ignored it in favor of trying the soup. It predominantly tasted of potatoes, salt, and butter. I found it to be just the right shade of soothing, the flavor not demanding. A comfort food. Selecting a second tray from the cabinet, I returned to the room, using it as a makeshift table as I ate a late breakfast.

  Edwards paused with the spoon in her bowl. “Well? How do you like it?”

  “It’s quite pleasant,” I answered, with a nod of thanks to the cook. “Perfect as a comfort food on a cold day, I would imagine. The flavors are not demanding, but not bland, and it has enough vegetables because of the trace amount of carrots and onions to satisfy the body. I think I would like the recipe.”

  “I’ll give it to you,” she promised. “Now, gentlemen, what did I miss while I played Sleeping Beauty?”

  I assumed she referenced some story but resolved to get it later. “We’ve been given updates from the patrolmen who locked down the scene. One mermaid tear was stolen last night from the shop, which tells us a great deal. Sadly, the shop is so covered with fingerprints that it will be useless to pursue that avenue.”

  Grimacing, she agreed morosely, “Likely true. Anything else?”

  “Warner and Newell have the device in hand and are studying it now. They’re quite in raptures with something new to poke at. I’m currently waiting on a report from them.”

  “But the theft of a single mermaid tear,” Seaton picked up the thread of
conversation smoothly, “and the abandonment of their device tells us a great deal.”

  Edwards proved that even if her body might be in poor condition, her mind was not. “By leaving the device behind, they’re saying they don’t need it anymore. It took weeks for them to get enough sagardian metal together and build that device. They wouldn’t abandon it easily if they still had use for it.”

  “Precisely. Also, the theft of a single mermaid tear gives us interesting information to make conjectures with.” Seaton settled comfortably into his chair, crossing one leg over another. After an all-night vigil, he seemed only slightly smudged around the edges, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced because of his makeup, but his eyes remained sharp despite that. “Because we know the ingredients, we now have power levels to work off of and from there can narrow their possible targets down to a handful.”

  “Six, to be precise. I explained to you that a Sink can create a sinkhole, consuming any magic within a limited vicinity? Sinks have different strengths to them, depending on what they are made of. The combination of these three indicate a significant strength.”

  Edwards didn’t like this at all, I could tell from the way her face tightened into a pinched frown. “How significant are we talking? Strong enough to topple the wards around the palace grounds? Strong enough to tear down the Fourth’s new wards? Something in between?”

  “Strong enough to punch through the palace’s wards,” Seaton answered grimly. “I’ve already reported this possibility to my fellow mages, and they’re on the lookout now. Unfortunately, the same wards that are up around the palace are also in several other locations.”

  “Wards can only be built up to a certain point,” I explained, seeing her confusion. “The highest quality wards are available to other people, not just the royal family. The palace, Royal Museum, National Treasury, the city’s train station, Regis Art Museum, and Kingston’s City Hall all have the same protections.”

  “While any of them are a viable target for the Sink, we’re relatively sure that they have no interest in attacking the train station or City Hall. Which really leaves us with four different possible targets.” Seaton stared dead ahead for the moment, blankly, his mind turning inwards toward some gruesome mental image. “I don’t like the idea of them attacking any of those four, for different reasons.”

  “None of us do,” I sighed what felt like a year’s worth of sighs. It felt like I had been awake and moving for a decade instead of twenty-six hours. Worse, I’d either walked or sprinted most of the evening, something my body wasn’t accustomed to. I desperately wanted a hot bath to soothe the aches and a bed under me. “With the way you wounded them, we don’t anticipate they’ll move today.”

  “Likely not,” Seaton confirmed. “You’ve bought us some time, Jamie. We’ll use it to best advantage by placing watchmen in every location and be ready to move when the alarm sounds.”

  “Including on the cemeteries?” Edwards asked as if she knew good and well we might not have thought of that. “We have no guarantee they don’t need more spectral energy.”

  I, in fact, hadn’t. “Of course.”

  Seaton fake coughed, hiding a laugh, and continued, “If we’re lucky, they’ll go about this stupidly and form the Sink in their hideout before moving.”

  “Stupidly because a moving Sink will wipe out any and all magic it comes across and thereby paint a target on itself?” Edwards asked rhetorically. “Do you think they’ll be that stupid?”

  “No, but I’m hoping they will,” Seaton answered with a shrug. “It would make our lives deucedly more convenient.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Warner came shortly after that, an exchanging of the guard, and I returned to my own apartment, fixated on the idea of bed. I’d bathe later, sleep definitely took the priority at the moment.

  My plan was foiled before I even entered through my own door.

  “Henri, really, where in the world have you been?” Ophelia Davenforth sailed toward me with arms outstretched, a scolding expression on her face.

  Resigned, I caught her hands and let her kiss my cheek. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Don’t you ‘Hello, Mother’ me,” she scolded, the blond ringlets framing her face swaying as she shook her head at me. “And what’s wrong with you? You’re pale, and those are the darkest circles under your eyes; I haven’t seen the like since you were studying for that dreadful magical exam.”

  “I’ve been up for twenty-six hours straight,” I responded, hoping beyond reason that she could take a hint. “Whatever brought you here, can it wait?”

  “You are what’s brought me here, so it can’t,” she refuted, releasing me to plomp herself imperiously onto the wing-backed chair. “Henri, really, I know that you love your job—although I can’t fathom why—but you must draw a line somewhere. I had a dinner party last night, remember? I expressly informed you to be there weeks ago.”

  I vaguely remembered the invitation through the fog of sleep deprivation. I found it interesting that she expected my attendance, since I avoided social gatherings as a norm and especially ones vaguely worded as this last one had been. It usually meant match making was the theme for the evening. “Mother. We had an emergency last night—”

  “Oh, posh,” she dismissed with a wave of the hand and a sniff, “as if someone else couldn’t handle the matter—”

  I cut her off ruthlessly, my tone growing firmer “—in which my partner went down, nearly fatally so, and it took all of our considerable magical expertise to keep her in this world and breathing.”

  That side lined the pre-planned argument she had in store for me. Clear blue eyes went wide in her rounded face. “Partner? Her?”

  My mother was not an entirely shallow woman, but she did put store in reputations, being the socialite that she was. I knew how to manipulate this in my favor by using certain key phrases. “I was recently assigned to be partner for the Shinigami Detective. You’ve heard of her, I trust?”

  “I have,” she breathed, nearly giddy with excitement. “My son? Partnered with that famous woman?”

  “Jamie Edwards is her name. I think you’ll like her, Mother, she’s quite the firebrand.” I took the couch, stretching out and kicked off my shoes. Ah, so much better. If I didn’t know for a surety that I would develop a crick in my neck sleeping here, I would likely fall promptly asleep.

  “How in the world did she get injured so fatally?” Ophelia leaned forward, nearly quivering with anticipation, as riveted as a child.

  “You’ve heard about those daring heists that have happened in the past few weeks? We’ve been investigating those. Last night, we stumbled across the thieves and gave chase to them. Unfortunately, they had a rather dangerous device on them, which they threw at Edwards. It went off, hitting her, and her magical core became rather scrambled because of it,” I summarized with no intention of giving her any further details than that. Just this was enough fodder to satisfy her. “Fortunately, her dear friend is Sherard Seaton. Yes, before you ask, that Sherard Seaton. I called him, and between the two of us, set her back to rights. She’s recovering now. And that, madam, is why I missed your dinner party, and where I have been all night.”

  “Well, I must say, I never expected such daring-do on your part, Henri.” Ophelia beamed, quite pleased to see me do something that didn’t involve either books or experiments. “And you saved the Shinigami Detective, how splendid! And even broadened your circle of acquaintances with a Royal Mage. Truly, I’m proud of you.”

  Of course she would be. I huffed out a breath, amused and resigned all at once. “I am delighted at your delight. Now. Can I please retire?”

  “Not just yet.” The way she put her hands together, as if pleading, did not bode well for me. “Your sister is expecting with their first child and wants to have a dinner to celebrate the good news this Rest Day. You’ll attend with your partner, naturally.”

  “Emilia’s expecting?” I asked, the news enough to give me a br
ief surge of energy. My older sister had been married for five years now with no sign that she and her husband would be able to conceive. It had been heartbreaking for them and frustrating for my parents, who wanted grandchildren. “Since when?”

  “She just discovered it three days ago. We’ve been trying to reach you for days,” my mother informed me, her aggravation renewed. “I ask you, what is the point of having this newfangled telephone device if you never answer it?”

  “Mother, I have to be home to answer it, which hasn’t happened much in the past three days. I’m very glad at Emilia’s and Reggie’s news.” I meant every word of it. My older sister and I have a complicated relationship on the best of days, but I did love her. I actually quite liked my brother-in-law as well, mostly because he had the patience and good nature required to put up with my sister. “I’ll be delighted to come, if the job permits. Things are heating up a bit in the case and I’m afraid I can’t promise anything.”

  Not getting the answer she wanted, my mother glared at me with pursed lips. “Henri. You’ll come and bring Detective Edwards with you, or I’ll go over your head.”

  “Captain Gregson will back me on this one,” unlike last time, the traitor, “but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to attend. I can’t promise Edwards can come, as she might not be recovered enough at that point.”

  Sensing she’d gained as much of a victory as she possibly could, Ophelia stood. “That will have to do, I suppose. Very well, keep me abreast of the situation so I know how many to seat for dinner.”

  “I will,” I promised faithfully. Good manners dictated I usher my mother out the door, which I did, then promptly locked it. Finally alone, I headed for bed, shedding clothes as I went.

  I would absolutely not move until I’d had at least twelve hours of sleep, I did not care if the world was ending.