Magic and the Shinigami Detective

by Honor Raconteur

  “Needle’s easier to find, trust me,” McSparrin groused at the other end of the bar. She sat on the stool with her elbows planted on the edge of the counter, looking as weary as the rest of us, although she watched Edwards’ movements with open fascination. “Jamie, what are you cooking?”

  “Swedish meatballs,” Edwards responded brightly.

  My attention went to her very capable hands as they rolled together small balls of meat. She’d offered over lunch, after three frustrating days of hunting down people, to make us all dinner. I’d promptly agreed, as had Seaton. McSparrin, never experiencing Edwards’ cooking before, had shown a little more reluctance to the idea although she’d consented readily enough in the end.

  I sat in my friend’s kitchen, watching as butter melted and seasonings were added and firmly ordered myself not to drool. “Don’t worry, McSparrin. Our friend here is an alarmingly good cook.”

  “Alarming?” Edwards objected good naturedly. “Alarming to what? Your waistline?”

  “Precisely. If not for the fact that I am now chasing after you all over creation, I’d have grown out of my trousers altogether.” I spoke only half in jest. I had, in fact, lost two inches and now was forced to wear a tighter belt because of all the unaccustomed exercise. Some would doubtless say it was good for me. I preferred not being constantly footsore.

  Seaton chuckled and retrieved the list from his pocket. It had more crease marks than any paper had a right to, and it flopped open easily under the slightest twitch of his fingers. “You can complain all you like, Davenforth, but that footwork did pay off. Of our list, we only have six unaccounted for. It’s a smaller number than I initially hoped for.”

  We truly had done good work in the past few days. Between the four of us, we’d managed to find most of the people on that list. Some had chosen to not use their meager magical talents and went into other honest professions. We gladly marked them off our list and made a note for the Magical License Registry so these people would not be bothered again. Some, of course, had not stayed in Kingston and moved elsewhere. We tracked them down through the Kingston Post Office, the only place that kept forwarding addresses on every living soul in this city.

  Others had more depressing reasons for not acquiring a license and working in the magical field. A few were recently deceased, others incapacitated with some crippling condition, and two of them failed to get the license simply because they couldn’t afford the fee. Seaton himself paid for those two and then promised to enroll them in a course that would teach them personal finances.

  The idea of a bankrupt magician seemed unfathomable to me, but, well, there were all sorts in the world.

  By the end of our search, we were left with six. Those six we could not locate, no matter what method we thought up. I hoped with every fiber of my being that all six were not rogue magicians, but I was realistic enough to acknowledge that at least some of them probably were.

  McSparrin leaned over to read the list, as if she hadn’t already done so over a dozen times. “Six people. One of these is our thief?”

  “Likely so.” Edwards put in the last of the meatballs into a skillet and covered it with a lid, her movements easy and efficient. “I’d hoped to get the list a little narrower than this, to have it match up with our criminal database, but no dice.”

  “It might not have helped you yet,” Seaton informed her, folding the list up and replacing it in his pocket, “but it has certainly helped me. I know who to look out for. I’ll pass this list along to my own people and see if we can’t track them down. Rogue magicians always pop up sooner or later.”

  “Seaton,” I drawled, “it’s precisely because we don’t want him to pop up sooner that we’re trying to find him.”

  He gave a shrug and a flip of the hand as if to say, ‘nothing I can do about that.’

  Harrumphing, I let this go. “Edwards, how much time does this need?”

  “Hmm, about fifteen more minutes,” she answered as she lifted the lid and gave everything a judicious stir.

  “Then if you’ve no objection, I vote we have dessert before dinner.” I got to my aching feet, heading for the door. “I have a box of Kingston Chocolates in my apartment. I feel that after our efforts, we deserve sugar.”

  Edwards lifted a hand skyward. “All in favor?”

  Seaton’s and McSparrin’s hands shot up.

  “Motion carried,” Edwards informed me, shooing me toward the door. “Go fetch them.”

  Apparently she wasn’t worried about any of us spoiling out appetite. I wasn’t either, not after the hunger that we’d worked up today. As I left and went down the stairs, I couldn’t help but reflect on Seaton’s opinion that the magician and his gang would pop up “sooner or later.”

  I wasn’t sure which I preferred: sooner or later.

  I stepped into the conference room in the precinct expecting to be the first, only to find Seaton already ensconced at the head of the table. “Seaton. You’re quite early.”

  Seaton gave a shrug and smile. “Leland had something specific he wanted me to do.”

  “Ah.” He needn’t say another word. Seaton’s distaste for his fellow Royal Mages rivaled mine for Sanderson. It also explained why he didn’t have the usual elaborate costume on, but a simple white shirt and navy blue suit. He likely put on the first thing to hand and escaped while he could.

  I closed the door behind me and took the seat at his right hand, belatedly realizing that without Edwards or McSparrin in the room, this was an opportune moment to talk about something sensitive. “I’ve studied Edwards’ situation somewhat since our last meeting.”

  Seaton’s eyebrows rose sharply. “I’m quite surprised to hear it. With everything going on, I assumed you hadn’t the time.”

  “I’ve turned it into an evening project,” I explained. For this, I had made the time. “I haven’t quite made the headway I hoped to, but I did have an epiphany of sorts last night. Seaton, have you attempted to cast spells toward her, not at her? I mean to say, have you tried attaching spells to her environment instead of her personally?”

  “Like her coat, or something she’s wearing?” Seaton asked the words slowly, and he sat up straight in his chair, mouth parting. “No. Silly me, why didn’t I think of that? The Immunity Spell likely wouldn’t activate since the spell isn’t aimed at her personally.”

  “My instincts say this will work. It does limit our spell choices, but we should be able to use shielding magic on her to various degrees.” I tapped an irritated rhythm with my fingers against the table top. “Of course it doesn’t solve the problem of healing spells. Those are invasively personal.”

  “I know,” Seaton commiserated, shoulders slumping again. “If we could just find a healing spell that didn’t use any elements even hinting at poison.”

  “We might have to make it.” We likely would. “At any rate, that’s more or less my progress at the moment. I would dearly love to run some tests to see if my hypothesis is accurate.”

  “I would as well,” Seaton agreed immediately. “Let’s find a time to do this. If nothing else, after this case is solved, we should spend quality time on the question.”

  I nodded, perfectly amiable to the suggestion. “I agree.”

  Edwards chose that moment to enter. “Hello, boys. I see you beat me here. Did you start without me?”

  “How could we?” Seaton responded, mock chidingly. “We’re just talking shop.”

  “Good, good.” She slung herself into the seat opposite mine. “That means we’re just waiting on Penny.”

  McSparrin chose that moment to enter, slightly flushed and out of breath as if she had sprinted here. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, coming in and shutting the door. “Had a last-minute situation to deal with.”

  Edwards’ awareness sharpened. “Problem?”

  “No. Blighter won’t be able to strike a woman with his arm out of socket,” McSparrin said with dark satisfaction. “What did I miss?”

  “Not
a thing,” Edwards assured her, waving her to one of the few empty chairs. Whoever had designed the conference rooms in this building assumed that no more than six people would need to meet. “We are in fact just getting started.”

  Seaton decided to do something useful with all of that magic he carried about and dismissed the lights, instead bringing up a real-time map of Kingston. It sat on the conference table, nearly spilling over the edges, showing not only buildings but pedestrians, street cars, even a few ships coming into dock. In theory, I knew how to do the same spell, but the power to do a map of this detail while simultaneously scanning and displaying the movement of the city at the same time? That was completely beyond my abilities.

  Seaton might be a bit of a ‘drama queen’ but no one could deny the man’s power or skill.

  Officer McSparrin looked more than a little gobsmacked at the display although Edwards didn’t bat an eye, which suggested she’d seen this before. “Cor, ain’t that something.”

  The Royal Mage beamed at her, glad to get a reaction from someone. “Jamie was all set to tromp around the city, investigating the buildings. I convinced her this was faster and less tiring for the feet. Now, our possible targets are these: the palace, National Treasury, Regis Art Museum, and the Royal Museum.”

  I wrote them on the board as he listed them off. Of course, each building became a shade of red as he pointed it out, making it easier for both women to locate each building in a glance. It was a kindness as neither of them knew every aspect of the city like we two Kingston natives did.

  “That’s some targets,” McSparrin said slowly, perturbed. “We sure it’s them?”

  “You don’t need that powerful of a Sink unless you’re aiming for something on this level. And they obviously understand wards very well, as the device they created was perfect for getting around minor ones,” I explained, writing down the last target on the board with chalk.

  Edwards left her chair and came around the table, hand extended. “Henri, chalk.”

  I handed it over, not at all sure what she aimed to do. Then I realized, belatedly, that it did limited good to list these out when she couldn’t read them. I pointed to the first one and translated softly, “Palace.”

  Shooting me a thankful look, she wrote underneath it in smaller lettering. Fortunately, I’d left ample space in between. I found it fascinating, as usual, to see her written language. It just looked so blocky, all lines, with few circles. It seemed efficient, though, I granted it that. She wrote in six letters what took me ten.

  “You keep saying palace,” McSparrin asked, face scrunched up, “but do you think they want to attack the royal family?”

  “We’re not sure what their aim is.” Edwards stopped writing long enough to turn and answer her directly. “That’s part of the problem. It could be another theft. It could be something else entirely. Right now we’re making assumptions just based on the power of the Sink. They went through considerable effort to assemble those parts, so we have to assume they had very good reason. Is this another heist? We don’t think they’ll strike the palace, as that’s something only a terrorist would do, and these guys aren’t on that level. But we’ve listed it and will watch it just in case.”

  “The meeting is to see if we can pare this down to two or three viable targets to focus our manpower on.” Seaton pointed an illustrative finger toward the train station. “I, for one, am not convinced that’s not a target.”

  I didn’t follow this logic at all. Then abruptly it made sense and I felt like an imbecile. “Yes, of course, how stupid of me.”

  McSparrin looked between the three of us, not following.

  Edwards explained succinctly, “Getaway. They have to get out quickly. Buying a ticket and patiently waiting in line? That will get them caught. If they can just tear through the wards and hijack a train, their odds of getting out are much higher.”

  “Oh. Oh, that’s not a good thought, that one,” McSparrin stated faintly. “That’ll cause all sorts of trouble.”

  Nodding grimly, Seaton agreed, “Understatement, my dear officer.”

  “So we have five potential targets, really.” I frowned down at them, ready to admit I felt a little out of my depth. Investigation was not precisely my forte either, not in this sense.

  “I’ll be surprised if it’s the Regis Art Museum.” Edwards finished with the chalk and handed it back to me before returning to the table. With her hands, she drew lines along the streets. “See how blocked in it is? It’s smack up against the eastern wall, and there’s not good flow over there. East gate is under construction, so there’s no easy out through there. They’d have to go either north or south, which means crossing most of the city.”

  “Not to mention that the Regis has never depended upon the wards to keep the art safe,” Seaton added, tone certain. “I’ve visited there several times. Very tight security in there. A small thieves group would stand no chance trying to haul off several paintings, not with a Sink alone.”

  Edwards snorted, agreeing. “They can’t handle two policemen chasing them without getting injured. Museum guards surrounding them? Too much for this group. I vote we put an alert out at the museum and let them take care of it if they really are attacked.”

  I agreed immediately. “I can also vouch with some authority that the museum’s guards are paranoid professionals. They’ve had two break-ins in the past three years and the current director is adamant it not happen again. He’s hired some of the very best, and it’s rumored his guards are the best paid in the city. There won’t be a possibility of an inside job there.”

  “So, alert them, let them take care of it?” Edwards looked around the table, saw nothing but agreement, and moved on. “So, really, it’s the palace, train station, Royal Museum, and the National Treasury we need to worry about. Train station we covered, but why these two?”

  “The Royal Museum does rely on magical protections,” Seaton explained. “It’s part of the reason I insisted in being part of this meeting. I know that place well. I’m in charge of renewing the wards on it.”

  Now that was news to me. “How often? Lunar cycle, annually?”

  “Lunar cycle,” Seaton answered promptly, then to the women explained, “Every full moon. The wards are partially connected to moonlight to power them, which means they falter during a new moon, at its darkest. We are unfortunately approaching a new moon in the next few days.”

  Edwards leaned on the table, her hands planted inside several buildings, which sent that area of the map into a dizzying spin, not that she seemed to notice or care. “You think the thieves know this?”

  “Likely. They seem to understand wards on some level, and all the most powerful wards are based on lunar and celestial events. Sunlight to power them through the day, moonlight to power them through the night. It’s the only sensible way to get strong wards operating full-time.” Seaton tipped a hand back and forth. “Now if you were to ask me whether or not they’ll strike the night of a new moon? That I can’t answer. In truth, they can go in two days before or even two days after and get a similar effect. The Sink will operate just as efficiently in taking my poor wards down.”

  I made a face, hoping he wouldn’t say all of that. “Seaton, really, why didn’t you use annual based designs?”

  “On a building of that size?” he protested, more amused than chagrined. “You think very highly of my power, old chap.”

  “If two Royal Mages worked in tandem, that would be a snap,” I riposted, not at all put off by this easy dismissal. “Would it kill the three of you to work together?”

  “I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with a dull, rusty spoon,” he announced cheerfully.

  I rolled my eyes. The ill accord between the three Royal Mages was legendary; even I’d heard of some of their ridiculous spats, but surely national safety took precedence over their squabbles.

  “So, can I assume that the palace and train station are also under a lunar ward?” Edwards asked, tone indicating she alrea
dy knew the answer. “Lovely. They’re all going to be vulnerable at the same time?”

  Pointing at the palace, McSparrin asked uncertainly, “Can the palace handle its own?”

  “Yes and no.” Seaton’s cheerfulness vanished and he grimaced. “I have alerted them to the danger, and they’re certainly being more careful than usual, but there are pockets of the palace grounds that don’t get much in the way of traffic, and are unfortunately positioned just right for an easy exit. It was planned that way just in case we needed to quickly evacuate the royal family, but in this instance, it’s making matters easier for our thieves. There’s a section here,” Seaton plucked out the palace compound and expanded it so we could see it in more minute detail, “that houses the National Treasury and Kingston Tower.”

  “Wait.” Edwards threw up a hand to stop him. “I never keep this straight. Which one has the money in it?

  “The National Treasury is our nation’s currency deposit and bank,” Seaton answered patiently. “The Royal Museum is more like a museum of all the collectibles, antiques, and pricey curiosities the country has accumulated in the past six hundred years.”

  “They don’t display it all at once, but rotate it around, showing different pieces at different times of the year,” I tacked on. “Most of it is actually stored in the very comprehensive basement under the building.”

  “The National Treasury is right next to the east side of the palace wall, meaning they can get in and out within minutes and,” Edwards waited until Seaton restored the original map before continuing to trace the path, “head straight to the train station not four blocks away.”

  McSparrin let out a low whistle. “Royal Museum only two blocks the other direction from the train station. Doesn’t that make it easier than the National Treasury?”

  “I give it even odds either way,” Edwards concluded, flopping into a chair. “Despite the Royal Museum being under its own wards. Who thought putting those two very lucrative buildings near a train station was a good idea?”