by Mel Todd
"I went to one convention a few years ago," Siab said, her voice thoughtful. "She's right. They had people lining up to do stuff, half the time with no idea what they were going to do."
Alixant groaned. "And if you’re right? How the hell do we find it in that mess, with all those people?"
"Well, they have the schedule up, and most events or things should be on the list."
"Where is it?" The demand made me glare at Alixant and he changed his voice a bit. "Can you show me?"
I pulled it up, and he showed me which printer to connect to. I started printing. The schedule itself was about twenty pages long. Niall grabbed it and made five copies, putting the original to the side.
"Okay everyone, grab highlighters and look at all the things you think it could be and highlight it. We’ll compare in an hour." Alixant nodded at Niall to hand out the copies and they all got to work.
So much for going—looks like I'll be working.
I shrugged to myself and started going through the papers. Looking up what the different events were kept sidetracking me and the more I looked, the more I figured I wanted to go next year.
"Time’s up. What do you have?" Alixant called out.
"Steve, there have to be at least twenty things that it could be. Concerts where they are offering free face painting, special early workshops on everything from writing to costuming, I've got costume contests, after-hours programming, all night video marathons. Frankly, I can think of about twenty ways if I was interested to kill eighty-one people." Nial stared at his paper in frustration.
"Same," said Siab and Chris. Everyone turned to look at me and I shrugged.
"All that plus gaming, the dealers’ floor, heck people give you alcohol in squirt guns." Stinky had been very enthused with that experience. "There are private room parties that are open to everyone and some that are closed only to invitees. Some are scavenger hunts and quests that you pick up from random people. The possibilities are endless."
Alixant groaned, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Niall will you call and get us tickets, and I want rooms in one of the main hotels. I don't care what you have to promise. If this is twenty-four hours a day, we need to be instantly reachable. Chris, can you get her paperwork to HR? I want to make sure she gets paid. Not being paid means she can protest more."
It did? I'll have to remember that. And make sure every hour is recorded.
"Try for rooms on the lower floors, so you can use the stairs," I advised. Stinky had talked about having to climb twenty-three flights of stairs carrying a case of beer to hang out with a friend because the elevators were all packed.
"Got it." Niall nodded and grabbed the paperwork and headed back to his cube. Chris followed him, his laptop in hand with the convention website up on it.
"What do you need me working on, Steve?" Siab asked as she stood, stretching and causing braids to slither down her back like snakes.
"Please keep on your research about the purpose of the ritual. I've asked Cori here to read up on it and hopefully in a day or two you'll be able to bounce ideas off each other." Alixant said, standing and looking at the clock. "Cori, you're with me. I know it's almost lunch, but I want you to learn how to use a skill and look at the bodies in the morgue for me. Can you handle that?" His gaze was direct and I shrugged.
"As long as there aren't any crabs crawling on them, probably."
His lips tilted and I watched him, pretending I was someone else. He had striking looks and a nice body. Most women probably would flirt with him non-stop. As for me, I didn't trust him enough to even want to work with him. But he had made some headway on that so far. "I'll make sure they remove the crabs."
"That would be best. I've had enough coffee I'm pretty sure the vomit I could come up with would stain everything you're wearing permanently." I talked as I grabbed my coat and bag. I did, however, finish my coffee, rinse, and fill the mug with water and ice. I suspected I could use the water later. Gore didn't affect me, but long dead bodies were different. They smelled different, looked different, even felt different. Maybe that was my soul magic coming through, but the fresh dead were fine. Long dead I didn't like being around.
"So Alixant," I said after buckling myself into the car, "now that you own me, how exactly do you expect me to help you when I don't know a damn thing, have limited offering amounts, and no idea how magic works?" I waved hands bitten to the quick, and hair that barely brushed my chin.
"You're still a Spirit merlin, and stronger than any we've seen. Spirit is the rarest of the mage classes, at least per the OMO stats."
"They give you stats?" I blurted out the question, staring at him, then I wanted to beat my head. They were a government agency, even if our government didn't control them. They probably had stats for everything and secrets that no one would ever know.
"Yes. They have a website that charts registrations and strengths in every manner you could imagine, and updates darn near real time." He didn't seem annoyed by my question and I made a mental note to go look at the website later. "But you have Soul as one of your areas."
"Sure, as pale," I pointed out.
"Pale is relative. Again, this is stuff you'd learn in your magic classes, but your skills are compared to your primary. You are strong in Relativity, which means even if your Soul magic is one percent less, it is considered pale."
I blinked considering that. "I thought pale meant you could barely use that magic."
"No. That would apply to the one you are not rated in at all. You'll find with a large enough offering, you can use all branches but most mages don't bother. It usually isn't worth the offering. But your pale areas, Soul and Psychic, are almost as strong as your Relativity. That is why I need you. Soul is so rare that I haven't been able to find anyone higher than a six that I could get to come here."
"You mean strong-arm," I accused.
"Yes. Strong-arm, blackmail, bribe, even threaten. But most people don't get strong in soul, and when it is secondary it is usually very secondary. Those that do exist have jobs that won't let them go or in a few cases their health and age make them frail enough that I hadn't reached the point I was willing to take that risk with them."
The jerk didn't even look ashamed. I didn't know if I was impressed by his willingness to try and stop these murders. Or disgusted by how little he cared about personal freedom and choice.
I suspect it depends on if you're the victim whose death he's trying to solve, or the person he is inconveniencing.
That thought sobered me and I settled into the passenger seat more, not looking at him, but adding mapping where we were to the mental map I'd been building. "That didn't really answer my question."
He heaved a sigh. "I suck as a teacher and I was an arrogant know-it-all student, but I'll try. I want you to see if you can get any impressions from the victims. As I understand it, if you touch them and make an offering, there's a chance of fleeting impressions, a moment of time and emotion that have impressed on the spirit in the moments before death. It doesn't happen all the time. As I'm sure you saw via the murder ball both the victim and the killer experienced intense emotions. You need that intensity to get that level of impression onto an object. As these people were about to die, I'm hoping something of what they experienced is lingering."
"What about ghosts? Can't mages see those?"
"In theory. But contrary to the books and the movies, ghosts take a lot of something to create and we don't know what that something is. There have been verified ghosts of old ladies who died peacefully in their bed remaining for years, and some of children who just never woke up. Then there are people who are brutally murdered who don't leave a trace. We still don't know why. James was researching into it, but if he ever published anything regarding it, I don't know about it."
"James?" I had no idea who he was talking about.
"James Wells. He was the spirit mage that sensed your emergence. Some merlins can feel others emerge and James was huge in the astral walking stuff. Apparently, he
was on the astral plane when you emerged, but it knocked him out to the point he could only remember bits and sounds. He got your name and when, but since the majority of emergences are after puberty – well…" Alixant shrugged as he pulled into a parking lot. "Look, I'll guide you as best I can. I need you to try and we'll see what happens."
Nothing. A whole lot of nothing is going to happen.
Instead of voicing my opinion, I nodded and replied, "Okay," in a voice that hid my doubts. Maybe. We'd been to the morgue once while I worked at Ruby. It was a blocky red brick building that screamed government, but nothing so dark as death. It was almost too cheerful to be where they held dead bodies. It didn't take long to get down to where they stored the bodies. It was full. Having bodies on gurneys as you walked into the morgue made me feel like I was about to star in a zombie movie. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
"Callister. I'm here. Need access. Which ones have you cleared?" Alixant called out as we exited the hallway.
"Anything in the long-term storage room next door. Only have about ten of the bodies done so far." An older black man with a shock of twisty white hair walked out. Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a lab coat, the circles under his dark brown eyes highlighted sharp intelligent eyes. "Why, what exactly are you looking for?" He didn't introduce himself, and Alixant didn't bother.
Men, they are such a pain. I swear.
"Got a Spirit merlin, want to see if she can get anything." Alixant nodded at me and I huffed.
"Hi. Cori Munroe. Nice to meet you," I interjected, looking at the man and pointedly ignoring Alixant.
His mouth twitched and he nodded at me. "Topher Callister. Go for it. My Spirit mage couldn't pull anything, but she's only a wizard and pale in Soul, so it can't hurt to try. If you can avoid touching more than their head, with gloves on mind you, you can do the ones in the hall. Don't disturb anything." He nodded once more at us then turned, heading back into the room with more bodies and equipment.
Alixant just reached over and grabbed two pairs of gloves, handing one to me. "They've all been sanitized, but no reason to be sloppy. Never know what might need to be checked for after the fact."
I rolled my eyes and pulled them on. I knew the rules of dealing with bodies. Dead didn't mean safe. Blood could still transmit diseases. He headed into a room next to where Callister had gone. I followed and stepped into a body fridge.
Chapter 26
The ability to see what the dead see sounds much more exotic than it is. People don't notice accurate details as much as one might expect. As an experiment compare the differences in eyewitness statements. Even the dead are focused on other things and when you see through their eyes, what you get might not be as revealing as you think. ~ Magic Explained
“Body fridge” was the only way to describe it. Rows of bodies on tables, with sheets covering their torsos and tags on their toes. They all looked clean, cold, and too much like wax statues. I stood, seeing all the bodies as proof of our failure, my failure, to save them.
They were already dead. There was nothing I could do. I knew this.
I did, but they still felt like reminders of my uselessness once again.
"You coming? We don't have all day," Alixant snapped. For once I was glad of his arrogance. It snapped me out of the frozen state I'd been in and let me move over to the one he stood next to. Late twenties, male, probably Caucasian, was all I could tell and even that might have been wrong. Death leached the color from your skin and made people look disturbingly the same.
"So, what do I do?"
He started to snap, then took a breath and let it out. "As best I understand it, touch the body, the glove shouldn't interfere if you concentrate, as it works through clothes. Reach out with any amount of offering in mind, two-three thousand molecules should be enough, as you are only looking for emotional imprints or impressions. Then, look to see what you sense on the body. Don't try to make it visible for me, you're not ready to try and do that yet."
"Two-three thousand molecules? What are you talking about?" I looked up at him, confused. He'd completely lost me at that.
"Oh yeah, you haven't had offering classes yet." He paused looking at me, but more like through me. "Assume a strand of hair or two. You shouldn't need more than that."
The memory of the man I swear I saw coming off the body on my first call sprang back into my mind. "Can Spirit mages see ghosts?"
"Maybe. It depends on the situation, but if you are talking about seeing a spirit leave the body after death, often yes. If they are in an especially heightened or alert state, they often do it with the offering of almost nothing, as it is two forces as one. We know people have souls and they go somewhere after death. So maybe."
His non-answer helped, and I thought back to the man's expression. Surprise, confusion, but no pain. I could live with that. I still wasn't sure how to follow his instructions and wished I'd focused more on the Spirit magic book instead of Ritual. Oh well, I'd work on it tonight.
Dismissing him from my thoughts, I slowly reached out and not knowing what to do, I asked.
What do you remember?
It probably wasn't the right way to do it, as he was dead, but one of the things the book Alixant had given me stressed was that all magic was more intent on what you wanted than following a formula. The best way to explain it was that you needed to understand that if you mixed ammonia and bleach, you'd make chloride gas. With magic, your intent and your offering meant the difference equivalent between creating a small cloud of weak, smelly gas, or enough to kill everyone in the room.
A flash of the park, water, and a touch on my shoulder, then nothing. I turned but there was no one behind me. Alixant stood off to the side, watching me but nowhere near me. Unsure, I reached out again and asked. This time there was nothing, as if I'd drained whatever was there.
I stepped back and frowned. It was so similar to my impressions of the park: green grass, trees, and the sound of the burbling water. There wasn't anything in that impression that couldn't have been a fleeting memory, or an impression of my own.
"What is it?"
"I don't know. Nothing probably, maybe?" I didn't want to say anything until I'd been able to make sure I wasn't 'seeing' things because I wanted this to work. I felt nothing, my scalp didn't itch, so I probably hadn't done anything. "Let me try someone else."
Alixant stepped back to the door, blocking it so anyone coming in would need to dislodge him. Nodding at him, I moved over to the next victim—female, middle aged, dark hair. I repeated my motions and asked the same question.
This time there was a glance at a phone, then a touch, turning, then nothing.
I pulled back with a jerk, fighting not to shudder.
That was weird.
Taking deep breaths here brought all sorts of scents that haunted you, and the disinfectant was the least of them. I tried four more times and all I got was vague impressions: the park, walking, fountains, a touch, then nothing. The memory, feeling, impression just ended.
"Well, I got something. Did the ME determine that the majority of the victims all had the same brain damage?"
"Yes. Experts say they would have been alive, possibly even still standing and made to walk via muscle memory. But their awareness, everything that gave them a sense of self was gone. The opinion is it is awfully exact and had to hit three different spots to sever just enough to not kill them instantly. They would have died even without the physical damage in the short term. The bleeds it caused in the brain would be lethal. I could get exactly what was done to each brain. Does it matter or help?"
"I don't think so. I got roughly the same thing from all of them. The park, a touch, then nothing. But always that touch they weren't expecting."
"Why do you say that?"
I had to think about it. "There was a sense of surprise, maybe even being started? It was always the shoulder or back of the arm, so they were turning to look and then it ended. That is the right word, it just cut off, like snipping a ribbon."
<
br /> Alixant heaved a sigh and stood up straight. "Well, I'm sure magic theorists and research scientists would find this horribly interesting, but all it does is tell me they were lured there and then killed unaware. Merlin blast it. That means we have to get in on the next murder to even have a chance." He yanked open the door and strode down the hall.
"Callister, we're gone. Let me know if you find anything."
"You and everyone else," the reply came back from the main room.
I hurried after Alixant, catching up at the elevators. "Now what?"
"Now we keep researching. You study rituals, and I'll try to figure out what else we know and scour recordings of people entering the park. There has be something."
I had nothing to say, or even offer. We headed back, swinging by to pick up pizza from Fellini's on the way.
I got back, took my stuff to my new cubicle. And didn't that feel weird? I'd never thought I'd be in one of these. I sighed and sat down, trying to figure out what I should do besides be the pet Spirit mage and the next thing to useless.
"Got it!" Chris’s shout ripped me out of the ritual magic rabbit hole I'd fallen into .
"And what did you get?" Alixant's dry voice came from another cubicle. I couldn't decide if Alixant having the same amount of space as us meant anything. Somehow, I didn't doubt he had a real office somewhere but he didn't have one here.
"I found out why they were all there. I got enough clues from their social media feeds and three different victims had family that were willing to unlock their phones for us." Chris wasn't babbling, he was too reserved for that, but he talked fast and was obviously excited.
He had moved over to the table, laptop in hand, and dropped it down as he sat. I cringed, expecting an explosion, but it didn't react at all.
Still feels weird to not have things blow up. Wonder how long getting over that will take.
Having nothing else to do, I followed them, feeling out of place and useless, which is what I had tried so hard not to be. Sitting at the table, I didn't look at anyone, just the image on the screen.
