“Did you see those guys?” I whispered. “I bet they came here to deliver more boxes of those cantrips.”
I’d attempted to fill him in on the situation at the market last night, but I wasn’t sure how much of it he’d taken in.
“Want me to light that box on fire and see if it burns?” he asked.
“No, just follow them,” I said. “See what’s in the box they’re carrying. The delivery area is around the back of the building and it’s out of bounds to anyone else.”
I wouldn’t be allowed out the back exit without drawing suspicion, but nobody would spot the fire sprite. I could have used the invisibility spell, but I’d save that for after Dex confirmed the box’s contents were what I thought.
The fire sprite returned a couple of minutes later. “The box was full of cantrips, and they exchanged it for another one. Now they’re on their way to the node.”
“Then we’ll go with them.” I reached for the pouch at my waist. “Calm down, and please stay quiet. The invisibility cantrip won’t work on you.”
I watched the door, and when the same two men emerged, I turned on the invisibility cantrip. Unseen, I tailed the pair of them until they reached the crossing-over point. They walked slower, encumbered by the box they held between them, though it didn’t look heavy.
In an instant, they vanished into the node’s path. I stepped after them, landing in a street near the market. One of them glanced up at Dex, but he flitted out of sight before his appearance could register.
I remained very still, waiting for them to move. The box’s lid shifted, and I glimpsed coins within. Blank ones. Thought so.
They were returning the used cantrips to the people responsible for carving them, and I had every intention of finding the heart of the operation. We weren’t far from the warehouses, and sure enough, my steps halted when the two men stopped outside a narrow building crammed between two warehouses and spoke to a uniformed woman dressed in grey. Sooty marks lined her face, which bore the pockmarked visage of someone who’d spent too many years in the Parallel’s magic-damaged atmosphere. I tried to eavesdrop on them, but the general noise of people on the streets drowned out their muttered conversation. I got the gist, though: this was the place.
When the two men slipped through the door, Dex and I followed, unseen. Inside the building lay identical boxes piled in neat stacks. A storeroom, then. But this wasn’t where the cantrips were carved with the runes which gave them life. I looked around the small space, and my gaze snagged on a narrow wooden door behind the boxes, from which a clamour of voices issued. I trod that way, easing the door open.
A torrent of human noise crashed over me in a wave. I stared around, momentarily stunned at the sight of the sheer number of people crammed into the large warehouse adjoining the storeroom. Rows and rows of uniformed workers stood behind long tables, each carving a single coin at a time. A pile of unused coins lay on each one’s left hand side, while a smaller pile of coins covered with symbols lay on their right. There had to be a few hundred people in here. All practitioners. Where did they come from?
I could hazard a guess. The Order must have shifted half their practitioner employees over here to carve cantrips for public use. Not just those from the Birmingham branch, but others from up and down the country and still more from within the Parallel itself.
If the Order wanted to hire their own practitioners, though, why not make them work inside their own headquarters? It wasn’t like there was no space. I walked down the row, looking from left to right. The practitioners worked on their feet, without pause, and a creeping suspicion took hold of me. Here in the Parallel, the supervisors didn’t have to abide by any laws. Their bosses could have them carving away at the cantrips for hours and they’d have no choice but to obey if they wanted to keep their jobs. An operation of this size would have been difficult to hide back home, but here in the city, nobody gave it a second glance.
If I’d had any magical talent, I might have ended up forced to join the endless rows of workers carving runes onto the cantrips as well. Was this what they were trying to push Devon into doing? Being forced to work in an environment like this would kill her. I didn’t doubt that for an instant. Worse, I could see why the vampires hadn’t intervened. After all, they weren’t breaking Arcadia’s laws, and who was to complain about a cheap source of new cantrips? Ones that actually worked as intended, no less?
The clamouring noise coupled with the hypnotic motion of the practitioners at work was making me dizzy, so I continued to walk without looking too closely at the workers. Among them stood other uniformed people dressed in dark grey like the woman outside the doors. Supervisors, I assumed. Either from the Order or from here in the Parallel, it didn’t matter. Because they answered to the same people.
I retraced my steps to the door leading into the storeroom, wondering what in hell I was supposed to do now. I was certain the person targeting the dead was at least obtaining the coins they used from this very place, but I wouldn’t know where to begin searching. Every person in the warehouse was under the close watch of a supervisor, but maybe one of them had gone rogue. Hell, it might be someone in charge who’d done so. Given the Order’s history, it wouldn’t surprise me.
As I pushed open the door into the storeroom, a spark of warmth against my shoulder made me jerk back. Dex leaned forward and pinched my ear. “Don’t wander off like that,” he admonished me. “I found something you’ll want to look at.”
“What is it?” I kept my voice low.
“Here.” He flew ahead, his slight spark of light illuminating a clipboard which lay atop a pile of boxes near the door. A scrawled list of names was pinned to the clipboard.
I peered at the list, and shock jolted through my nerves. Among the names listed of the supervisors was Mr Barrett Cobb. He’d been involved in the planning phase of this operation, and it seemed someone had neglected to remove his name from the list after his attempted coup and murder spree.
I crept out of the storeroom and into the street, my heart sinking with finality. To get to the truth, it seemed I might have to rip open old wounds, and speak to the man who’d come close to costing me everything I had left.
14
Once my invisibility cantrip wore off, I had no choice but to get on with my hunt for whatever illegal cantrip the Order had sent me after this time. Following the directions the Order had given me, I made my way to a district of winding streets wreathed in the smell of burning wood and herbs.
Dex flew alongside me. “What’re we after?”
“Some illegal cosmetic spell,” I said. “Seems a practitioner is up to no good.”
“Do I get to throw fire around?”
“If they’re naughty, yes,” I said. “Get it all out of your system. If you wreck tonight’s D&D game, Devon will kick you out.”
“Me? Never.” He flew ahead, and I let him, safe in the knowledge that he wasn’t as uncommon a sight here as back home. Sprites might be rare, but magic in general was much less likely to draw unwanted attention. I reached the run-down house where our ne’er-do-well mage was hanging out, knocked, and a stoned-looking practitioner with greasy hair answered the door.
“Here to get some illegal cosmetic spells.” I wedged my foot in the door when he tried to close it. “I’m from the Order.”
“Get fucked,” he growled.
“I have a permit.” He didn’t look capable of hitting me back, so I had a reasonable shot at getting in and out without any further conflict. A swift paralysing cantrip left him frozen in his own doorway, and I left Dex to watch him while I squeezed past into the house.
The practitioner unfroze as I was going through the cabinets in the kitchen. “What’re you doing?” he called over his shoulder. “Get outta my house.”
“Looking for illegal cosmetic spells.” I opened a drawer and found a handful of coins. Harmless spells, really, but the Order’s word was final. “I’ll be taking these.”
He caught my arm as I walked
out the front door with my haul, but Dex flew into his eyes, sending sparks dancing down the narrow hallway. The practitioner retreated with a muffled curse, closing the door on us.
Dex spiralled away from the door and hovered in front of me. “You didn’t even need my help.”
“That was an easy job compared to the last one.” I held up the coin to the light. “This looks like the same type of coin as the ones being carved at the warehouse.”
“So it is,” he said. “You want me to set that on fire?”
“No!” I said. “Don’t you think it’s suspicious that illegal spells are getting a resurgence? I reckon someone’s smuggling blank coins out of the warehouses on the side. I wouldn’t have thought it was one of the people who actually work there. Not someone who’s dependent on the job to keep a roof over their head, anyway.”
The guy I’d taken the cosmetic spells from hadn’t been particularly dangerous, just desperate, but if there’d been an uptick of crimes on the side since the warehouse had opened, the Order needed to know. Even if they might deny it was any of their business.
“Don’t ask me,” he said. “What does this prove?”
“It proves there are people using the reusable coins to commit crimes on the side,” I said. “Maybe it’s someone from within the Order’s own forces. Again.”
But the idea of reporting the people in that warehouse didn’t sit right with me. Most of them plainly had had no choice but to comply with the rules, as it seemed nearly every independent practitioner with any measurable skill had been forced to take on a job there.
“Dex, can you sneak around the warehouse and keep an eye out for trouble over there?” I said. “I’ll speak directly to a supervisor myself. Ask some questions.”
“I suppose I will.” He bowed in mid-air. “Your wish is my command.”
We retraced our steps—visible this time—and I waited outside the narrow storeroom sandwiched between two warehouses, looking for someone authoritative to speak to. A stocky man in uniform walked out, and I waylaid him.
“Excuse me,” I said. “When do the workers get out for the day?”
“Who wants to know?” He lit a cigarette and puffed out a billowing cloud of smoke. “Interested in working with them?”
“Ah, no, I work for the Order,” I said. “But my friend might have to come and work here soon, so I promised I’d scout for her. She doesn’t live in the Parallel, so she doesn’t have a permit yet.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said. “I’ll be blunt… your friend would be better off taking an ordinary job on Earth instead.”
“It might not be an option.” Not without giving up her magic. “Why do you work here, then?”
“If you’re with the Order, you’ll understand how it is,” he said. “We do what we can to survive.”
Not exploit others. Even if they’d come willingly, those workers might not have had alternatives. But mentioning that wouldn’t bring me any closer to answers about the person using their cantrips to commit crimes.
“Haven’t you heard the rumours?” I bluffed.
“Rumours?” He frowned, the cigarette drooping from his mouth.
“Of cantrips being smuggled out of the warehouses,” I went on, as though I knew what I was talking about. “There’s been an upsurge of illegal spells appearing ever since the warehouse opened, I heard.”
“It’s reached the Order’s attention?” His eyes widened a fraction. “We’ve been doing everything we can to find the culprit.”
Damn. I’d actually guessed right… except it’d been up in the air as to whether the authorities were aware of the problem until now.
“Really?” I arched a brow. “From what I hear, it’s not getting any better. I was just sent to retrieve some illegal spells from a rogue. That’s twice this week.”
“You’re a retriever?” He lowered his cigarette. “We’re keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble. It’ll be some hard-up practitioner trying to make some extra cash, I don’t doubt.”
“Maybe,” I said. “And Cobb? Wasn’t he supposed to be involved?”
His eyes bulged. “Who told you that?”
I shrugged. “Heard it mentioned. I was there for his arrest, so…”
“Yes.” He gave a nervous glance over his shoulder. “That’s supposed to be classified. You won’t mention his name to anyone else, will you? If we’re seen to be associated with that sort, the vamps will shut us down.”
“I won’t say a word.” I stepped aside as Dex flew out of the warehouse. I’d found out everything I could ask about without drawing suspicion, and what I’d learnt had given me enough to ponder on.
The supervisors knew someone was stealing their cantrips, but not who. The Order doubtless knew, too, but they didn’t want word getting out, either.
As for Mr Cobb’s involvement? I didn’t want to speak to him again. The Order would never let me, but if I told the Death King about his potential involvement, I didn’t see him dismissing me this time around.
“Hey!” Dex pinched my ear. “You’re spacing out. Learn anything useful?”
“Yeah, you might say that.” I exhaled, falling into step with him. “What about you? You weren’t spotted, were you?”
“Nah, but the supervisors thought someone was throwing sparks around when I went past, so I figured I’d better leave.”
“Wise idea,” I said. “Turns out the supervisors know someone is working behind their back, and I’m pretty sure the Order does, too. They didn’t tell me, but I bet someone with more influence would be able to convince them.”
“Like who?” He groaned. “Not the bloody Death King again.”
“Believe me, I’m not enthused either.”
“Could have fooled me,” he grumbled. “Anyone would think you were an aspiring lich.”
“I already said no,” I told him. “Not that he was offering to turn me. I reckon he needs a living spirit mage on backup in case his soul ends up in the wrong vessel again.”
“Why’s that?” He swooped overhead. “Oh. Oh. You’re the only one who can reverse it.”
“The only spirit mage willing to,” I corrected. “There must be others hiding here in the Parallel. Like the person responsible for killing the dead, for instance.”
How many other spirit mages might be at large? If I’d ever known, the truth was lost along with my memories. And once again, I was faced with the same decision… trust in the Order, or trust in the King of the Dead.
Dex and I parted ways at the node, at which point he went home to annoy Devon and I went on through the swampland to annoy His Deathly Highness.
At the gate to the Death King’s castle, however, the Fire Element barred my way. “He’s not in.”
“What do you mean, he’s not in?” I said. “I didn’t even say why I was here.”
“You’re here to waste my master’s time, what else?” said Davies. “He has better things to do than to associate with Order lackeys like yourself.”
Great. Just when the Air Element had started treating me like an actual person, another dickhead had stepped up to take their place.
“Look, it’s important,” I said. “It’s to do with solving the murders of the Death King’s people.”
“In what way?” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know why you think you deserve special treatment, but the Elemental Soldiers are working with our King on this case, too, and he trusts us above all else. If you refuse to tell me why you’re here, then I can only assume you’re working against him.”
“Don’t be absurd.” I glared at him. “I’ll have you know your boss offered me a job to work alongside the four of you, so he trusts me as much as he does you.”
“He did what?” said the Fire Element. “No. That’s not possible.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. But the Order would never let me speak to Mr Cobb alone. If he’d been involved in the COS’s inception, he must know who was working behind the supervisors’ backs, right? I’d have
suspected the man himself if he hadn’t been in jail.
“Ask your master and he’ll confirm we’re working together.”
“If it’s not important enough to tell me, then it’s not worth disturbing him, either,” he said. “Besides, I told you the truth. He’s not in the castle, and I don’t know when he’ll be back. You’re wasting your time.”
Bastard. “I’ll be back later, then.”
I walked through the swampland as slowly as I dared. Maybe I’d run into the Death King while I was out and about. Yeah, and maybe he’d declare himself my BFF for life. The Fire Element’s comments grated on my nerves. What the hell was his problem? Maybe he didn’t trust me not to turn on his master, too, but you’d think the Elemental Soldiers would want to hear what I had to say.
And now I had to go back to the Order, who’d sooner promote me to manager and give me a free goody bag than let me speak to one of their most highly guarded prisoners.
Upon my return to the Order, Mrs Carlisle kept me filling out paperwork for so long that I ended up stuck on the bus in rush-hour traffic. I arrived late for D&D, but the game hadn’t started yet. Devon and the others sat in the living room, chatting around the table with their dice at the ready. Takeout containers littered the table around the game board.
“Hey.” I pulled out a chair and picked up a bag of Indian takeout. “Why’re you late starting? You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Trix isn’t here, either,” Devon said. “I wondered if you two might have run into one another.”
“No,” I said. “That’s weird. He’s usually the first here.”
“Who’s that?” Red, our elven cleric, pointed at Dex, who flew in circles around the ceiling. “Hey… is that a sprite?”
“Meet Dex,” I said, resigned. “He’s a fire sprite who’s staying here with Devon and me for a bit.”
“Damn right.” He flew down above Devon’s shoulder. “Can I play an NPC?”
Devon gave me an exasperated look. “Will you behave if I say yes?”
Touch of Death (Order of the Elements Book 2) Page 14
