Power Mage 5

by Hondo Jinx

  What do you mean?

  I am going to heal you now, Alex. Okay?

  Heal me? Is that even possible?

  Yes, it is. You need to believe that. More than believe. You need to know you will be healed.

  But how…?

  No more questions, no more doubt. You are certain that I will heal you. And it makes you so, so happy.

  Okay, Alex thought, then bucked up. Yes. Yes, you will heal me. Thank you. It makes me so happy.

  As it was spoken, so was it done.

  Alex felt a cloud of cool mist drift over her feet. As the fog rolled up her shins and across her knees, she felt her feet again.

  Only then did she understand that she had been numb. The numbness had been such a welcome relief that she hadn’t thought to question it.

  But now she could feel again, and as the fog drifted further up her body, sensation followed in its wake, returning her flesh to her.

  Blissfully, there was no pain.

  The cloud swept over her body and across her face, misting her features with cool dew.

  She took a deep and painless breath, opened her eyes, and jerked with fear, seeing the red bright locks spilling from the shadowy hood of the woman’s green robe.

  An instant later, Alex relaxed again. This woman was not the Dragon.

  Quite the opposite. She was Alex’s savior.

  Because Alex was whole again. Looking down, she blushed and covered herself.

  She was naked, her clothes having burned away.

  Naked but whole. Completely uninjured. It was just her terrible burns that had vanished. All of her injuries had healed.

  It was a miracle. A true miracle.

  “Thank you,” Alex said, tearing up. “Thank you so much.”

  The woman laid a hand gingerly on the crown of Alex’s head.

  “You are welcome, my child.”

  My child? Alex thought.

  It was a strange thing for the woman to say. Alex could only see her hands and hair and the suggestion of a lower face upon which shone a bright smile of straight white teeth.

  But even these few details told her the woman was young. Likely younger than Alex, who was thirty-two.

  “Thank you,” the woman said, “but I am not so young as I might look.”

  “Oh,” Alex said, and with a flash of embarrassment she remembered the woman could read her thoughts, a notion that made her feel even more naked than her lack of clothing.

  “Are you thirsty?” the woman asked. And then, before Alex could answer, she shoved a water bottle into her hand. “Here, drink this. You’re very thirsty.”

  She’s right, Alex realized. I am thirsty. Incredibly thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life.

  She propped up on an elbow and tilted her head back and chugged the whole bottle in a single go.

  Then, feeling better, she glanced around.

  They were in a crude cabin. She took in the wide plank floors, the wood chairs and table, the stack of food and water.

  But there were no windows, no decoration, no signs of life.

  “Where are we?” Alex asked.

  The smile within the hood stretched wider. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  Alex could only blink at her.

  “My child,” the woman said again, and reached out to brush Alex’s cheeks with her fingertips, “you are a stranger in a strange land.”

  Alex nodded.

  “You are normally a woman who takes charge of her destiny,” the red-haired woman said, walking away. “I respect that. A woman with her own agenda, a woman who creates her own luck.”

  “Yes,” Alex said.

  It was true. She wasn’t exactly a control freak, but she had always understood that happiness and success were up to her, not anyone else.

  So it had been strange these last couple of days, being sucked into a situation where she’d had no power whatsoever. She hadn’t been acting, only reacting.

  “Here,” the woman said, handing Alex a large, white towel.

  Alex draped the towel over her body and stood. She wrapped herself in the white fabric, knotted it over one breast, and relaxed a little. Makeshift clothes beat no clothes at all.

  The robed woman leaned against the table, pulled a strange little book from her pocket, and held it against her body. “My people made a mistake. They missed the psi sensor the Tiger Mage placed on you.”

  Alex shuddered at the mention of the fearsome tiger man. “Psi sensor?”

  “It’s like a listening device, a camera, and a GPS detector all rolled into one. The Tiger Mage must have planted it on you in Times Square. Whatever the case, my people missed it. But I forgive them. The Tiger Mage is, after all, a power mage. And none of them are.”

  “Wait,” Alex said, and her heart started hammering again. “If this thing is a GPS detector—”

  “Relax, my child,” the woman said. “I have deactivated the psi sensor… for now.”

  “For now? It’s still on me, then? Shouldn’t we—”

  “The question we should be asking ourselves,” the woman interrupted, “is why, if the Tiger Mage planted the psi sensor, were you traced to our camp not by a tiger but a dragon?”

  Alex lifted one eyebrow, not following the woman. Honestly, she didn’t care about any of this. She just wanted to get out of here and spend the rest of her life avoiding these people. And that meant getting rid of this psi sensor thing forever.

  She was just about to say so when the woman spoke again. “What happened today was tragic, but the mission remains the same. We must alert the psionic community before the Order makes its move. We must spread the truth before it’s too late.”

  “Good luck,” Alex said.

  The robed head tilted slightly for a moment, and laughter spilled out light as a spring breeze.

  “By we, I am speaking of us,” the woman said. “You and me. There is no turning back for either of us now.”

  “I can’t do anything,” Alex said, fresh panic rising in her.

  “You can. And you will. Together, we will assist the true mage.”

  The woman lifted both hands in the air, displaying the weird little book and an old, wooden chest that she had lifted from the table.

  “First, we will give him these,” the woman explained. “Next, we will give him ourselves. Then we will give him his enemies.”

  Alex barked nervous laughter. “You’ve got this all wrong. Look, don’t misunderstand me. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. Big time. Bringing me here, saving me? Thank you. Thank you so much.

  “But all this other stuff? I can’t do it. I’m not like you people. I’m nothing. I can’t do magic. I don’t anything about any of this. I don’t even know your name.”

  “My name,” the woman said, straightening, “is Clarissa Lemay. And you are far from nothing. My sweet girl, my sweet child, you are the key to everything.”

  24

  “I wanted to talk to you in person,” Payter Janusian explained, “man to man.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jamaal said, scanning the yard.

  No sign of anyone else. No SWAT team ready to cart him off to the psi surgeons.

  And yet the dread lingered.

  But he couldn’t just stand here acting like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This was his yard, his home.

  “Have to admit you surprised the hell out of me, sir.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. My apologies.” Janusian offered a tired smile. He was still dressed in the suit and tie he’d worn in the recent broadcast which meant he’d taken advantage of an Arch Mage perk and traveled here via Cosmic portal.

  “What did you want to talk to me about, sir?” Jamaal asked, and realized that he was still standing just inside the gate as if contemplating flight.

  Not good.

  Janusian might not be a Seeker, but the man had spent his life in law enforcement. He noticed shit like that.

  So Jamaal stepped forward and closed the gate,
and Janusian said, “I knocked at the front door, hoping I might catch up with Shawna.”

  “Sorry,” Jamaal said. “She isn’t here.”

  Janusian’s steely eyes seemed to look straight through Jamaal.

  “She’s out of town,” Jamaal said.

  “Business or pleasure?”

  “Pleasure, sir. Lucky her, she retired two years ago.”

  “Lucky her, indeed. I suppose, when one lives in paradise, vacationing in the plain and ugly corners of the world becomes exotic. You had a dog, correct?”

  Jamaal’s racing mind juked to the left. He nodded, frowning. “Rosie. She died.” He gave the deception some juice, wondering even as he did, why he’d bothered to lie in the first place.

  “Oh,” Janusian said with a pained expression. “I am terribly sorry to hear that. I really am. That’s the worst part about having a pet. The end. I hope it wasn’t too difficult.”

  Jamaal offered his own frown. “It wasn’t pleasant, sir. Would you like something to eat or drink? With Shawna gone, I’m in bachelor mode, so I don’t have anything fancy to offer, but if you’re in the mood for beer and pizza, you’ve come to the right place.”

  Janusian smiled again. This time, it seemed almost genuine. “I haven’t had beer and pizza in… bah, I can’t even remember the last time. That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

  So Jamaal led the Arch Mage inside, where a sudden fear grabbed him by the throat.

  Had he left evidence of his transgressions lying out in the open?

  Heart thudding, he unlocked the slider and led Janusian into the kitchen. A quick glance around revealed no evidence, nothing to worry about.

  So he relaxed a little and went to the refrigerator, feeling a lump in his throat when he saw the picture he’d taken of Shawna and Rosie that day two years ago when he’d skipped work and driven them up to the mainland just for the hell of it.

  Oh Shawna, I’ve lost my way, and I don’t know how to get back…

  Tamping down his foolish emotions, he pulled two beers and the pizza box from the fridge and set them on the counter.

  He cracked the beers, handed one to Janusian, and opened the box, revealing half a pizza. “Help yourself, sir. Hope you don’t mind black olives.”

  “Not at all,” Janusian said, tearing away a slice. “Back in my cold-pizza-eating days, I couldn’t afford toppings. So in its way, this feels paradoxically luxurious. Cheers.”

  They clinked their beers together and ate.

  Janusian nodded, chewing. “The black olive pairs well with the onions. And of course, everything pairs well with beer. Just don’t tattle to my physician.”

  Jamaal laughed, coming down a little. Rather than speaking, he took another bite.

  When in the company of someone who can fuck up your life, silence is often the best option.

  Janusian, too, was silent for a full minute, the pair of them chewing and drinking and grunting with satisfaction.

  Finally, the Arch Mage finished his crust, tore a sheet from the roll of paper towels sitting on the counter, and wiped his hands. “Delicious. Thank you.”

  Jamaal swallowed a lump of half-chewed dough and cheese. “No problem, sir. Have another slice, please.”

  Janusian shook his head, blotting his lips with the makeshift napkin. “My doctor tells me that I am gluten intolerant,” he said, a woeful grin coming onto his face.

  The man looked bone tired. And old, truth be told, the indomitable Payter Janusian finally showing his age.

  “Felled by wheat,” Janusian chuckled. “Can you believe it? Remember when we were young? We lived on meat and gunpowder and washed it down with straight whiskey, am I wrong?”

  “No sir,” Jamaal laughed. “I remember the same things.”

  Janusian nodded. “I miss working with you, Jamaal.”

  Jamaal shrugged. “We still work together, sir. Just at a distance.”

  “Indeed,” Janusian said. “Which leads me to the reason for my visit.”

  Jamaal’s guts tightened like a fist. He lifted the beer to his forced smile, trying to look curious instead of terrified.

  “Don’t you ever feel,” Janusian started, then trailed off, shifting his eyes from side to side as if uncertain he should continue.

  “Sir?”

  Janusian offered another tired chuckle. “And the unburdening of secrets continues. I might add that my physician also demands I avoid dairy and alcohol. Can you believe that? What’s the point of life if you can’t live?”

  Jamaal shrugged. “I’ve wondered the same thing, sir.”

  Janusian looked dubious. “Don’t patronize me, old friend. To put it bluntly, you have it made. Living here in Key West with your lovely wife and dog…”

  “Um… the dog died, sir.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” Janusian said, glancing to the floor. “I apologize. Rather insensitive of me. Fatigue makes even the wise man foolish… so what chance does a simple man like me have?”

  They looked at each other for a few beats of weird silence, the moment curiously strained, dread bleating like a poisonous frog clinging to the back of Jamaal’s brain.

  Janusian broke the silence. “As I was starting to ask you, don’t you ever feel desperate, especially when the world seems to be spinning out of control, to speak with someone your own age? Someone who’s seen the things you’ve seen and weathered the same storms?”

  Jamaal nodded. “I’m no stranger to those thoughts, sir.” For an instant, he considered elaborating, bringing Krupski into it, but his intuition shooed him away for some strange, unknowable reason.

  Janusian sipped his beer. “More gluten,” he said. “I’ll pay for this tonight. Even if I wasn’t gluten intolerant before, I am now after three years of listening to my doctor.”

  Jamaal laughed and took another drink, waiting for Janusian to get to the point. Because while the Arch Mage was doing his best to make this all comfy cozy, Janusian was not a frivolous man.

  “And now the world seems very much to be spinning out of control,” the Arch Mage stated. “You saw my recent broadcast?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Nasty business in New Jersey.”

  “Sounds like it, sir.”

  “But necessary.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “McLeod is very good at what she does.”

  “Yes, sir. I’d have to say she is pretty much the last person on Earth I would want to piss off.”

  “Yes,” Janusian said. “Off the record, we initiated the engagement. It wouldn’t do to tell the general public that, of course, especially during these troubled times.”

  “No, sir. The public wouldn’t like that. And they wouldn’t understand.”

  Janusian took another drink and showed Jamaal an approving smile. “See, that’s what I mean about talking with someone who’s been there. I don’t have to hide the truth or justify my decisions, because a man of your experience would do the same things if you were in my position.”

  “You give me too much credit, sir,” Jamaal said, “but I do understand what you’re saying.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about the Culling lately. Have you?”

  Jamaal shrugged. “Some, sir.”

  “Of course. Foolish of me to even pose the question. Times like those never really leave us, do they? If the public knew, if they even suspected the sacrifices we’ve made to keep them safe, their hair would turn white.”

  “As a Seeker, sir, I officially verify that conjecture,” Jamaal said, playing along but wondering when Janusian would get to the point.

  And then he did.

  “The New Dawn Initiative,” Janusian said, and let it hang in the air between them.

  After a few seconds of silence, Jamaal said, “I heard you mention it.”

  Janusian smiled. “I need your help, old friend.”

  “Anything, sir,” Jamaal lied.

  “Good,” Janusian said. “I suppose every aging man feels displaced from his younger colleagues
to one degree or another, but I have to say they just don’t make agents like you anymore, men who understand that we are beholden to a purpose greater than our individual desires.”

  Jamaal didn’t like where this was heading but hid behind a spit-and-polish smile. “Duty first, sir.”

  “Duty first,” Janusian said. “Easy to say, hard to do. But a worthwhile code if ever there was one. Where is the power mage?”

  Jamaal jerked with surprise. “Sir?”

  Janusian laughed. “Sorry, I’m so tired. I meant to ask, where is the old Seeker. Helen? Mabel?”

  “Oh,” Jamaal laughed. “Hazel, sir. She disappeared.”

  “Shame,” Janusian said. “I had hoped she might lead us to the power mage.”

  “So had I, sir,” Jamaal said, “but as I said in my report—”

  “Water under the bridge,” Janusian said. “People come, people go. It’s so difficult to keep track of everyone. But that is exactly what I want you to do: keep track of everyone.”

  “Everyone, sir?”

  “Well, not everyone,” Janusian laughed, “just the psi mages in your precinct.”

  Jamaal leaned back and raised his brows. “That’s a lot of people, sir.”

  “Yes, it is. And some of them might eventually prove important to our investigation. In fact, Central’s precogs insist someone here in Key West is actively assisting the power mage.”

  Oh shit, Jamaal thought, his guts turning to ice water. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

  “Of course, you have to take precog reports with a big grain of salt. They make weathermen look like pocket calculators.”

  “Yes, sir. They are pretty inconsistent.”

  “Yes, but this time, I have a hunch that the precogs are onto something. What, precisely, I do not know. But something. Which is why I wanted to come here and speak to you in person. Key West is a primary concern as we roll out the New Dawn Initiative.”

  Jamaal waited.

  “Can you keep a secret?” Janusian asked. Then, before Jamaal could respond, he said, “Of course you can. You were right by my side the night of the Culling, weren’t you? Yes, you were. We did what we had to do and kept our mouths shut about it.”

  The ice water in Jamaal’s guts froze solid. Here it comes. Here it fucking comes.