Greysons of Grimoire

by Tpaul Homdrom

  “What do you want to do?” Shana asked, leaning forward excitedly.

  Fae chuckled. “You’re such a kid,” she said. “I… well, what I want to do doesn’t have a lot to do with magic. I want to be an animator.”

  “You’ll be awesome!” Shana exclaimed happily. “You’re so good at drawing. And I haven’t even seen any of your artwork in, like, two years, so I’m sure you’re even more amazing now!”

  Fae blushed, looking away. “Yeah, okay. Well… thanks.”

  They chatted after that for a while longer, just talking about this and that. Shana did most of the talking, she was so happy to be reconnecting with Fae. And in the back of her mind, despite her older sister’s protests, she began to formulate a plan…

  Chapter 6: Melody of Regret

  — G —

  “Man, the streets are thick tonight,” Caleb said, making the most of his momentary reprieve. Clouds obscured the moon and stars above, making tonight’s patrol a murky one. Lights flashed here and there throughout Grimoire, and the sounds of Hollows of all types filled the distant air.

  “Which means a big payday for us,” Chelsea said, grinning in the green firelight of the burning Howler between her and Caleb. Her phone chirped, and she took a look at it. “Pair of Weavers heading south between Brookwater and Threadbare.”

  “Near the library,” Caleb said. “No word on Pipers?”

  Chelsea scrolled a bit. “Well, Chase’s team forced one to escape before it caught any kids, but otherwise nothing.”

  “Better keep our eyes open, then,” Caleb said. He flashed his pocket watch, forming a staircase of glowing discs leading up to the roof of the toy shop next to them. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re surprisingly subdued tonight,” Chelsea said as she followed Caleb up his staircase. “Deep thoughts?”

  “I was hoping we could track a Piper,” Caleb replied as they alighted atop the roof and began heading south along the tiles. “But with this many Hollows, I may just have to wait.”

  “Track a Piper?” Chelsea asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking there are little kids going missing,” Caleb replied. “And I’m thinking we know exactly what’s taking them, but we don’t know where they’re going. So I thought we’d follow one and find out.”

  “They vanish when they reach the boundary line. If it were that easy, someone else would have already done it.”

  Caleb smirked. “I didn’t say I thought it would be easy,” he said.

  “Well, at least your cockiness is back,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “I spotted the Weavers. How do you want to take them?”

  Caleb looked where Chelsea indicated, spying a pair of truly grotesque spiders.

  As large as a grown man, Weavers were the worst types of spiders, the kinds with bulbous, oversized abdomens, spindly legs, and tiny heads with beady eyes. That giant rear section always freaked Caleb out, even in ordinary-sized spiders — it looked like the arachnid was hiding some horrible secret weapon. In these massive, monstrous Weavers, it was made more freakish, as their large abdomens weren’t smooth, but mottled and bumpy, and seemed to ripple and squirm depending on the Weaver’s movements.

  “I’ll keep my distance and watch you light them up,” Caleb offered, earning a sharp glare from Chelsea. He laughed sheepishly. “I know, I know, Hunters face their fears.”

  “It’s not like you haven’t fought Weavers before,” Chelsea said. “So? What’s the play?”

  “I’ll trip up the one in front,” Caleb said. “Wait until I say go, then blast the rear one with everything you’ve got.”

  “I love it when you play to my strengths,” Chelsea said sweetly.

  Racing ahead, Caleb slowed time to a crawl, leaping from one rooftop to the next.

  Enhancement Magic. It was the key class of magic that all Hunters had to gain a certain level of proficiency in before being allowed on patrol. Used purely as a way to, as the name suggested, “enhance” the wielder’s own physical capabilities, it was responsible for Caleb, Chelsea, and all other Hunters being able to leap gaps that Olympic long jumpers couldn’t dream of jumping, and jump higher than even top-class pole vaulters could reach. Not just that — Hunters could safely land from a four story drop, could run for hours without exhausting themselves, and could lift even the heaviest of their companions with just one arm if the need arose and carry them at a near sprint.

  And that was all without mentioning what those who specialized in Enhancement Magic were capable of. Caleb only knew one Hunter like that, but her physical capabilities were absolutely jaw-dropping.

  Caleb crossed three large gaps between rooftops, closing on the Weavers. The tightness building in his chest let him know that he really shouldn’t have started slowing time so early — the more he exerted himself physically while using Time Magic, the less time he could keep it active.

  And the more he hurt himself.

  Returning time to its normal flow for a few seconds, Caleb ran across rooftops, now ahead of the Weavers. Making sure he wasn’t spotted yet, he slowed time once more and leapt down to the street. Just one block more. Caleb flashed his pocket watch open, using one of his magical discs as a springboard to launch himself one hundred yards in an instant.

  That was the other component behind Caleb’s superhuman capacity for maneuvering around the city streets and rooftops so quickly — Mobility Magic. Like many classes of magic, Mobility was manifested differently by different mages, and Caleb manifested it as glowing white discs. Used mostly for creating pathways he couldn’t easily jump or climb, he had other tricks up his sleeve, like the springboard bounce he’d just used to get ahead.

  The key to most magic was creativity. Two different mages could use the same type of magic, and it would look and act completely differently. Chelsea’s Elemental Magic was all about fire, and yet she used it like she was a dancing painter, creating beautifully artistic shapes and movements of green flame. Other Fire Mages — if there were any — would have different color flames and use it completely differently. While Caleb manifested Mobility Magic as discs, one of his friends created a sort of magical jetpack, zipping around with short-range flight.

  That was what had drawn Caleb to being a Hunter: he was encouraged to creatively tackle high-pressure, fast-paced, intense scenarios. Thinking up solutions on the fly, training specific techniques again and again until they were muscle memory — these were the things that made Caleb’s heart soar, his blood rush, and his whole being feel most alive.

  So even when facing his fears and rushing down grotesque spiders with absurdly large and hideous abdominal sections, Caleb was grinning.

  His pocket watch flashed with light, and shining white chains formed from thin air. Surging forward, they wrapped up the lead Weaver’s legs, and Caleb returned time to its normal flow.

  That was Caleb’s true specialty after Time Magic. Containment was all about containing, constricting, and restricting a target. Caleb manifested his Containment Magic as shining chains, which he could spawn directly from his Talisman or from midair anywhere around his target.

  Chains were remarkably versatile.

  With the lead Weaver tripped up, Caleb shouted out “Go!”

  Chelsea was on the rear Weaver in a flash, emerald green fire roaring over the arachnid’s body more like ocean waves than blasts of flame. Caleb was impressed — he hadn’t been sure Chelsea would be able to keep up with him over that distance with him slowing time so much.

  Then again, she was the best Hunter he knew.

  Both Weavers were crying out in their trademark piercing, inhuman screech that Caleb hated, but appreciated. It felt like knives stabbing his eardrums, but it meant the Weavers were in pain, and that meant this would be over soon.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Chelsea shouted, forming roiling walls of flame to block her Weaver as it moved to escape. Caleb wrapped another set of chains around his Weaver’s legs for good measure, watching as it fell victim to Chelsea�
�s fire. This was why he worked so well with Chelsea. He could easily present her with a stationary, weakened target, making her own attacks that much more impactful.

  It took a scant few seconds for Chelsea to finish off hers, and then she was quickly on the second. Together, they destroyed the Weaver with ease.

  “I’ll check for webbing,” Caleb said, using one of his discs as a springboard, launching him up to the roof of a four-story building in a single bound.

  “I’ll collect our spoils,” Chelsea called back to him in a singsong voice.

  Weavers could be very difficult combatants if they got the jump on a Hunter, but in open combat, they weren’t particularly deadly. The problem lay in the aftermath. It wasn’t just about destroying the Weavers themselves — everywhere they went, they had a tendency to produce a thick, magical webbing over surfaces. If it wasn’t cleared away, it could trip up other Hunters on their patrols, and even impact regular citizens the next day. The webbing didn’t just restrict movement if someone was caught in it — it was filled with malice and anger, and to those who couldn’t see the webbing, it was particularly potent. Ordinary, non-magical folks would be moved to fits of rage. The webbing couldn’t be left hanging around.

  “Anything?” Chelsea asked, leaping up to join Caleb on the roof.

  “Nothing,” Caleb said. He kept his eyes peeled for the telltale blackened aura of the webbing, but didn’t see a thing.

  “Well, they were moving a lot faster than usual,” Chelsea offered. “Guess they weren’t interested in webbing the place up.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “So?”

  Caleb turned to Chelsea. “What?”

  Chelsea put her hands on her hips. “Come on. You were talking about following Pipers earlier. You have a plan?”

  Caleb shrugged. “Not really. Just find a Piper, don’t let it see us, and follow it to the boundary line.”

  “They disappear at the boundary line,” Chelsea said. “Is that the best you can do? We’ve seen them hit the boundary. We know what happens.”

  “How well have we ever examined the area right after they vanish?” Caleb asked. “When have we tried following them further? It’s always ‘oh no, it got away,’ and then back to patrols and fighting.”

  “Because that’s our job,” Chelsea said. She let out a weary sigh. “We need a better plan than that. And we should probably work with a larger team.”

  “Why’s that?” Caleb asked.

  Chelsea groaned, tilting her head back as she did so. It was her trademark sign of complete and utter exasperation.

  Caleb found it adorable.

  “How good is your Divination Magic?” Chelsea asked. “I know mine is flat garbage. How well can the two of us handle thirteen Hollows alone if the Piper sees us and calls for reinforcements? How well can we handle a Piper, for that matter? We’ve been in both those situations before, and it wasn’t pretty either time. Are you a tracker? Am I? What if the Piper gets one of us with its toxin? I’m not a Healer. Are you? No. Are you keeping up with me? Are you seeing what I’m getting at?”

  Caleb stared into the distance. “Yeah. You’re right. I know that. I just…”

  “You’re acting on emotions, not taking the time to think.” Chelsea placed a gentle hand on his arm. “My heart aches for the kids who are disappearing, too. But if we get ourselves killed trying to look for them, what good does that do? And if we follow a Piper who has kids with it to the boundary line, and it vanishes with those kids, and we failed to stop it and can’t find a way to follow it, whose fault is it those kids were stolen away? And if the Pipers are taking the kids to their deaths, which I think is a strong possibility, then if we allow a Piper to escape and can’t follow it, the blood of those kids is on our hands.”

  Caleb sighed. “Yeah. I hear you. So… what now?”

  “We can talk over strategies for finding the missing kids during the day, and take our time putting together the right plan. Right now, we have work to do.”

  Caleb let his shoulders sag. “Yeah. I figured that’s where you were going. Okay. So, where to next?”

  “Seemed like the Weavers were rushing to reach the library,” Chelsea said, eyes downcast as she thought. “But why? Weavers are all about stealth — when do they ever rush around like that?”

  “Wanna head to the library and find out?” Caleb asked.

  Chelsea nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  On they went, making their swift way across rooftops to the library.

  “Here we go,” Chelsea said, dropping to a crouch and Caleb following suit. From their perch on the peak of a steeply sloped roof, they looked out across the courtyard in front of Grimoire’s public library.

  Styled like a small castle, the library had been around for nearly a thousand years, only receiving slight renovations here and there. Four rounded towers marked each corner, and the main entrance was a massive wooden gate. Faded stonework and architecture from a bygone era worked together to make Grimoire’s public library feel truly old.

  Caleb loved that. He didn’t spend much time there nowadays — if he wanted to read a book he was more likely to borrow from Shana and Shias, since they had such huge collections — but he had many fond memories. Most of all, he loved the style. The library’s interior was like a labyrinth of bookshelves, with multiple floors separated by spiraling staircases. There was even a basement garden, which always struck Caleb as the weirdest and coolest thing ever when he was a kid.

  “No sign of Hollows,” Chelsea said, frowning. Sounds of battle raged through the night, but they were all distant. The library was the picture of peace.

  “Should we go inside?” Caleb asked.

  “Can you pick locks?”

  Caleb chuckled. “I know a secret entrance.”

  Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Caleb grinned at her, then leapt down from the roof, landing in a crouch on the street below. Chelsea followed suit with catlike grace, her short hair falling perfectly back into place when she landed.

  Caleb found himself staring. He often did — Chelsea’s grace and style awed him at every moment. She had admitted to him that she was self-conscious about her short hair, but she had good reason to cut it that way. Using Fire Magic like she did, she’d had an incident in her Hunter internship where her long hair had caught fire from her own magic. Since then, though she’d learned how to keep her flames from harming herself, she’d kept it cut a few inches shorter than shoulder length — the shortest she was willing to go.

  Caleb loved it. Cut short as it was, it emphasized her shoulders and arms, displaying that Chelsea was strong and active.

  She looked like the fierce fighter that she was.

  “Now’s not the time for staring,” Chelsea said in a singsong voice. She smirked at him as she walked past.

  “When is?” Caleb asked.

  Chelsea poked him in the ribs, eliciting a brief, childish giggle. “When we’re not in a potential combat zone.”

  Caleb faked a dramatic sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to cope.”

  “You can manage it.” Chelsea stopped in the courtyard, about ten yards from the library’s main gate. “So where’s this ‘secret’ entrance?”

  “Around the back,” Caleb said. He led the way across the courtyard to the right, circling around the library’s side. It was dimly lit here, and in the gloomy, cloudy night, shadows were strangely ethereal. The darkness seemed to have a life of its own.

  Sometimes Caleb thought the darkness actually did have a life of its own. With the kind of magical world he lived in, he wouldn’t be surprised.

  Through the darkness and around the library’s rear, Caleb walked over to a railing overlooking an outdoor section of the basement garden. He nodded to the drop, and then leapt over. A simple two story drop was nothing — as long as your aim was good. There were stone statues and rose bushes all about, so Caleb couldn’t leap carelessly. Landing between two lion statues, he stepped aside to make room as
Chelsea followed him down.

  “Kind of a creepy place in the dark,” she said, looking around. There were a few lights active at night, but they cast a dim glow, serving mostly to lengthen the shadows of the condensed layout. Rose bushes appeared taller, statues appeared fiercer.

  “There’s a hidden key,” Caleb said, striding confidently through the pathways, stopping at a squat frog statue. During the summer, its oddly-shaped mouth would spit out a steady stream of water into the basin below it, but now that they were deep into autumn, that function was deactivated. Taking hold of the frog’s head, Caleb twisted it gently to the left a few inches, then the right a few more inches. There was a click, and Caleb lifted the frog’s head, revealing a hollow interior. Beneath the pipes that transported the water through the statue’s body was an old-fashioned silver key.