Windslinger

by JM Guillen

  “Well maybe someone needs to tell me.” I let the irritation creep into my voice. “You’ve known me for a little bit now. Telling me to stay away from something mysterious hasn’t ever exactly worked out for you, has it?”

  “This isn’t my fault.” He leaned between us and pointed at me. “If you just waited, I would’ve told you all about Mister Lorne and that forsaken shop of his. I just needed you to be patient.”

  “I couldn’t be patient,” I said softly, almost a murmur. “I had no way of knowing when I’d see you next. I thought I could save my mom.”

  Simon sighed at that, and seemed to deflate. He leaned forward onto the table, head in his hands. “Tell me.” He didn’t even raise his head, his voice muffled against the table.

  “You don’t want to know about my family or friends, remember?” More than an edge of accusation lurked in my words; I hadn’t ever understood the reasoning behind this rule.

  “Pretend I do,” he sighed. “Besides, I just met a gaggle of them.”

  “Well, I told you about the day the shop appeared.”

  “Right. That would be the same day I told you in no uncertain terms to stay as far away from the place as possible.”

  “It was such a weird little store.” I ignored him. “As long as I remember, that location had been a shitty little secondhand store full of garbage no one would want.”

  “Language.”

  “Right, well one day the secondhand store was gone and this quaint little sign hung over the door. The sign said ‘Fallen Leaves.’”

  “It always does,” Simon muttered.

  “It looked like a wholesome little business, something that would be right at home in a little 1950s town. The hand-painted sign suggested it was just some little mom-and-pop joint.”

  “So at what point did you decide to go off and do something incredibly stupid?” Simon took the last sip of his beer, and gestured to the young man tending bar.

  “At first, I thought I would just poke my nose in, check his shop out.” I shook my head, feeling stupid. “The entire place gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “There’s an excellent reason for that.” Simon raised his head to the ceiling and steepled his fingers. “It’s not exactly real, not in the same way this place is.” He gestured at our surroundings.

  “Not real? But I went inside!”

  “It’s some kind of sideways world, a tiny place that monster has complete control over. Not just inside the store, either. The place sends out runners, like poison ivy. When it’s been in a place for a while, Fallen Leaves can even affect reality outside the store, in the neighborhood around it. It’s like a cancer.”

  “What about the Silent Gentlemen? I can’t imagine they like that too much.”

  “If they can stop the Gaunt Man, they haven’t.” He shrugged. “Dunno why.”

  “The Gaunt Man?” I wrinkled my forehead in confusion.

  The bartender chose that moment to step over with another pitcher of beer. “Sorry we’ve been letting you get dry,” he grumbled. “We’re missing a server tonight.”

  “No worries, my friend.” Simon smiled, and the young guy turned away. My mentor picked up the conversation right where we left off. “Mister Lorne isn’t that thing’s name. It’s been around for hundreds ’a years as far as I can tell. They called it the Gaunt Man in Germany.”

  “Hundreds of years?” Mister Lorne had looked old, incredibly so. I never would have guessed him to be quite that old, however.

  “He’s not in any way a normal man. As far as I can track, he’s been the proprietor of Fallen Leaves since well before the Europeans settled in the Americas. That particular shop has probably done business in two dozen cities alone. Not different franchises, mind you. He simply opens his doors in New York, Vegas, Amsterdam.” He took a sip. “They all lead into his creepy little lair.”

  “What does he want?”

  “The Gaunt Man is a collector. He makes bargains with others, sometimes people, sometimes other, older things.”

  “Other things?” I gave my head the tiniest shake.

  “Lollipop, you was in it deep the moment you walked into his store.” Simon took a drink of his beer.

  “I thought I could just browse.”

  “No. Not there. It don’t matter who you are, that… creature is gonna walk right up to you and sell you your heart’s desire.”

  “Mom.” Anger began to burn in my chest again. “I just wanted her to be well.”

  “The Gaunt Man wants to have himself a pretty little prisoner with a clever knack,” Simon declared. “Did he take anything from you? Or per’aps show you some odd little trinket when you made your agreements?”

  “He had a tiny little tooth.” I paused to consider how odd it sounded. “He told me it was one of my baby teeth, and he’d be able to find me if things went wrong between us.” I scoffed. “I thought it was pretty strange at the time.”

  “I bet you take it more seriously now.”

  “Yeah. I do.” I frowned. “I keep getting found.”

  “The spirit we faced in the hotel was certainly one of his sworn creatures. Something that made the exact same kind ’a stupid arrangement you have.” Simon raised one eyebrow.

  “Dammit.” I leaned forward onto the table and sank my head into my hands. “What are we going to do?”

  “Language.” He scowled. “You ain’t gonna do anything.” His gruff tone left no room for discussion. “The Gaunt Man must have dozens and dozens ’a creatures bound to his will. We go in there all willy-nilly and neither one ’a us will be coming out.”

  “What do you expect me to do then?”

  “I’m gonna talk to some friends of mine. See if I can find out exactly how screwed you are.”

  “Okay.”

  “That means I’m going to be busy. And that means I need you to stay out of trouble for a day or two while I get things resolved.” He held up the earring. “Thanks to tonight, this won’t be helpful. “It’s still attuned , but it needs more juice.” He gave me a sideward grin. “If my little sparrow practiced with her knack more, I wouldn’t have to charge things like this.”

  “Sorry I drained it.”

  “No, don’t be. If it wasn’t for this little doodad, I wouldn’t’ve been able to find you earlier.” He actually smiled a touch. “At least you know when to ask for help.”

  “If I’m just trying to stay out of trouble, how do I know he won’t come again?” I worried. “Seems as if Lorne can find me whenever he wants.”

  “Came prepared for that.” Simon rustled around inside his old jacket. “Brought you a little something.”

  “Yeah?” I leaned forward, unable to help myself. No matter how long I associated with the man, I never grew weary of his interesting little toys.

  “Yeah.” He laid his hand against the table between us, and something clicked against it. He slid the item over to me and removed his hand.

  A small bracelet. The band comprised three strands of woven leather, wooden beads, and several silver charms. They gleamed, several small symbols twinkling.

  “What’s this?” I reached forward and tentatively touched the bracelet. I knew that oftentimes just touching Simon’s toys would have an effect.

  “Look at the largest charm.”

  I turned it over and noticed an inscription on the other side. It appeared to be a small, stylized eye. Something akin to an Eye of Horus with a smooth lapis lazuli set in the center of it.

  “I’ve seen this before.” I narrowed my eyes at Simon. “A couple of times, actually.”

  “That symbol is the Aegis of Dudael. Don’t look at it or touch it or say the name or it’ll drive you mad.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I responded dryly.

  “This bracelet holds several protective wards that’ll help you remain hidden as long as you don’t get all crazy with your knack.”

  “What, me?” I said distractedly as I twirled the charm in my fingers.

  “There’s more. Put
it on.”

  “Okay,” I said, not at all worried that my head might catch on fire. Keeping my eyes on his, I undid the clasp, slid the bracelet over my wrist, and held my breath.

  The moment I had it in place, reality blossomed around me, unfurling with light that shone inside my mind. My eyes grew wide and I blinked as I felt the gentle susurrus caress my skin, the sensation like a thousand whispers all around me.

  “Oh-kay.” I took a deep breath and felt the Wind within my soul whip around and through me. I felt it move as I breathed, heard the air sing as it passed between my lips, and blend with the breath of the world.

  “Take a minute.” Simon gave me a knowing glance. “This is a little bit different than a blue jay feather.”

  “I’ll say,” I whispered. The power held within that feather seemed miraculous at the time, but in all honesty, it had just reflected the Wind that already lay hidden behind my heart.

  This was more; so much more. If I relaxed into the tempest that stormed at the center of me, the bracelet augmented the maelstrom. It felt fiercer than I had ever experienced before, keenly aware and intelligent.

  It felt alive.

  “Thing is, you gotta remember you’re supposed to be layin’ low.” Simon narrowed his eyes at me. “Now this little trinket should help with that. ’Specially as long as you don’t go around showing off your cleverness.”

  “Right.” I felt my heart pound in my chest.

  “But…” He raised one finger, and I gazed up at him.

  “But?”

  “If it so happens that you get yourself found, you’ll have a little bit more mojo if you wear that little toy. It’s whatcha call a catch-22. As long as you don’t use your specialty, the Aegis will keep you hidden.” He waggled one hand. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Well, if you do feel the need to show off, you’ll have a bit more oomph. Therefore, if anyone is actively looking for you, they’ll see you more easily.”

  “Got it.”

  “But having more oomph means you need to have more self-control,” he warned. “If you have any slip-ups, they’re likely to be big ones.”

  “Self control. Yeah. That’s me.” I couldn’t help but stare around the room. It felt as if every breath I took connected me to the other people within the bar, going about their nightly business. Just the slightest action of someone walking sent tiny whirls of sensation drifting through the room.

  “This is gonna be just great.” Simon took a long drink and finished it with one swallow.

  “No.” I gazed at him, at the sarcasm in his tone. “I got it.”

  He sighed.

  “You’ll keep that on, and you’ll go to your dad’s shop. You’ll stay with him all nice and safe for a few days, and then I’ll be back.”

  “And it will keep me hidden.” I traced one nail around the symbol of the eye. This sounded fairly easy.

  “Yes.” Simon hesitated a moment. “Mostly.” He paused. “Some. Just don’t make trouble.”

  “That’s what I do.” I gave him a sunny smile. “Not make trouble.”

  “Right.” He scowled. “I’ll drop in on your dad’s shop soon.” He stood. “When I see you next, I’ll have all manner of planning and clever ideas in place.”

  “Good.” His confidence was contagious. “So I just have to sit tight.”

  “If you can.” He eyed me. “Please don’t…” He vacillated with one hand. “Be… you.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” I grinned.

  “I’ll see you in a couple days.” He raised one eyebrow. “Less than a week. I expect to find you safe and sound. Play games with your little friends or something.”

  “I think I can handle that.” I stood as well, and we walked out together.

  It would be hours later, after I had made my way back to my hotel bed that the most obvious question hit me square in the face.

  “Wait.” I spoke to the darkness in the room. I sat up in bed. For a long minute, then two, my mind raced. No matter how I tried to put together what happened the pieces simply didn’t fit.

  “How the hell did you know, Simon?” I swung my feet out of the bed, leaned forward and thought. I thought back over all the stories that we’d shared with my friends this evening, and the dozens of others they might never hear. I thought about lessons in the streets of Syracuse, about those first days when I learned to call the wind.

  My mentor had been all business. Whenever he showed up he had a specific lesson to teach me, and had been meticulous about remaining on subject. For our entire relationship, Simon had remained somewhat aloof. He had never asked about my family or my personal life.

  “It’s impossible,” I muttered to myself as I climbed back into bed. No matter how I thought, I couldn’t make his instructions make any kind of sense.

  They had been very specific. He wanted me to wear his little trinket. He wanted me to lay low, and keep control over myself. He wanted me to remain out of the way.

  Yet no matter how I considered it, one part of his plan made no sense.

  Simon had known exactly what he wanted me to do, but more importantly he had known where he wanted me to go. That was the impossible bit.

  In all the years I’ve known him, I was certain I had never once mentioned my dad’s gaming store.

  Not even once.

  Roll for Search

  “Thanks man.” Baxter handed the cabbie a few crisp bills and slid out the door to stand next to me on the sidewalk.

  I stood speechless at the memories the storefront brought back. Around us, the wind coursed down the street, whispering capriciously.

  “Well, we’re here,” he commented.

  I nodded. How many years has it been? Since before the divorce, I knew that much.

  “I still say you could have just flown us here,” he said with a grin as he took on a lofty tone. “Commanded the very wind to carry us aloft. Would have been cheaper.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I may have been a bit loopy, but I saw how you threw those knives.”

  “My knives are a lot smaller.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Way easier to hurl about.”

  “Science it out,” he reasoned. “If you have less air pressure over you, and more air pressure beneath, you’ll lift off.”

  “I think size has something to do with that.” Size, and the fact that Simon hadn’t taught me the proper Empyrean Seal.

  “Size matters not.” Baxter’s voice slipped into a mix of falsetto and Muppety croak. “Judge me by my size, do you?”

  “I don’t.” I glanced at him. “As much as you eat, you should be about three times as big.”

  “I could go for something right now, to be honest.”

  “I know.” I rolled my eyes again. “You kept on about it for the entire ride over.”

  “Takes a lot to fuel the tank of genius.”

  “Right.” Absorbed with the shop, I scarcely heard his reply.

  I hadn’t been to the store in ages, but the front looked exactly like I remembered. Paper notices of games and tournaments clung to the window. Ads for the newest collectible card packs had been taped everywhere. Chipped white letters proclaimed KNUCKLEBONES across the door, clear and extremely easy to read against the blackness of the store interior.

  I felt twelve years old again. Inside that shop, thousands of different adventures awaited.

  “So, like I said, it was closed last time I tried.” Baxter gestured weakly at the door.

  “Did you look for the key?” I cupped my fingers against the glass and peered inside.

  Definitely closed. That probably meant a trip to Dad’s apartment. But first…

  “He’s not here.” Baxter cocked his head at me. “I figured you’d try and corral me to head over to his apartment.”

  “Maybe.” I gave him a sideways glance. “But my dad knows me. If I’m looking for him, he’d probably expect me to find the key and poke my head inside. He might have left a mes
sage or something.”

  “He keeps a key around here? Really?”

  “Well, used to, anyway.” I headed for the miniscule, rocky garden area to the side of the door. While meant to hold some sort of exotic flowers or cacti, it had only ever grown more rocks.

  “‘Kay. Weird.”

  “It’s safe. He has a security alarm too.”

  “No, I mean it’s weird that your dad would expect you to pop into his closed store.”

  “We just…” I shrugged. “Understand each other. He’s not answering his phone; he didn’t go to con. Mom wouldn’t be looking for him, as sick as she is.” I turned away from Baxter. “That leaves me. Dad knows how I think.”

  “Right. Got it.” Baxter took a step to the side. “Um, hey, so back to the matter of me starving. I had no breakfast.”

  “Dad always hid a spare set of keys in a hollow rock, in case he forgot his.” I frowned at the dusty rocks until I found the largest, slightly too perfect to be real. I snatched it and turned it over to reveal a circular hole covered with gray plastic. It opened easily enough and I dumped a set of keys into my waiting palm.

  Why so many? There’s just the one door.

  “You found it; that’s great. Look, I’m just gonna …”

  “Bail.” I glanced up at my distracted friend. “You’re just gonna bail on me, aren’t you?”

  “Liz…” he protested, chagrined.

  “You’re starving. I know. And any time you get the least bit hungry, you always run after the nearest food. You’re practically a cartoon character. I get it.”

  “I’ll come right back! There’s a hot dog guy down the block, I saw him as we pulled up.”

  “Uh-huh. Fine. Whatever. Go.” I swept a dismissive hand at him.

  “Liz…”

  “Go on, then.” I mock-glared at him, hands on my hips. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine for ten minutes on my own.”

  “Well no shit.” His face blended offended hurt and sarcasm. “I never said you wouldn’t be. You’re the one with all the weird juju that isn’t magic.”

  “Go already! You’re a starveling thing, remember?” I all but snapped.

  “Won’t be but a sec, Liz.” He flashed a grin.