Storm Chaser: A Novel of The Black Pages

by Danny Bell

The wind went out of Ann and she went quiet, obviously trusting Wilma’s word on something like this. Ann searched for something and finally asked, “Maybe you can outfit us? Like you did for Chalsarda?”

  Wilma arched an eyebrow at that. “And where is she in all of this? Didn’t she want to come in and say hi?”

  Ann and I both hesitated for a moment, and I figured it was best that I field this one. “She’s out of town, taking care of an errand for me.”

  “So, the two of you are going alone?” Wilma exploded. “Absolutely not, I forbid it!”

  “You can’t do that!” Ann shot back.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets to cover my annoyance. “Yeah, no offense, but this might be the only time I get to figure this thing out, and I don’t work for you. I’m going in with or without your help.”

  Ann started to add something to that, but Wilma held up a finger, silencing her. “Fine, I can’t stop you, but it’s still not my problem. So, if you want something from me, we’ll make a deal. Like a customer in a shop.”

  She gestured around at everything as if to drive the point home.

  I crossed my arms across my chest, not appreciating the implied chess move. “You know I’m broke, so I assume you have something else in mind.”

  A thin smile made its way across her lips. “Indeed. I’ll give you everything you need to deal with whatever is waiting for you in the hotel, guaranteed. Potions, items, and, best of all, information. You’ll practically stroll through the place like you own it, and all I’ll ask in return—” Wilma eyed my bag just then and looked back to me “—is your rod.”

  “No deal,” I said quickly. “I find it pretty useful.”

  “It’s a fair deal,” Wilma cooed. “It’s not like you’re using it to its full potential anyway, I can tell. You just said yourself that getting into this function might just save the whole city. Isn’t that what heroes do? Save the city?”

  “Forget it, lady. This was a waste of time. Ann, let’s go.”

  “Come on, Wilma, I’ve been helping out here for months, I know you’re better than this,” Ann said impatiently. “Quit trying to prove a point and help us out. You wouldn’t want your clients to find out that the reason their businesses went underwater is that you drove away the only person who could do anything about it, would you?”

  “Are you blackmailing me?” Wilma asked sharply. “I’ll remind you that I am your boss and instructor.”

  “Yeah? Well, unless you’re going to instruct me on how to swim faster than sharks, then, yeah, I guess you’re getting leveraged. Not blackmailed. I know you’d hate to be blackmailed.” Ann flashed a grin to Wilma that I’d never seen on her before.

  Wilma let out a short laugh. “So, you’re learning from me after all! Fine, wipe that stupid smile off your face, and we’ll get down to business. As per my usual, there’s what it will cost you, and what you will pay, and I’m not negotiating. Do you kids understand?”

  Ann elbowed me. “I know her, this is as good as we’re going to get, so tell her, yes and thank you.”

  I had the feeling Ann knew best in this situation, so I did as she directed. “Yes, Wilma, and thank you.”

  “Yes, we both get it. So, what’s your real offer?”

  “Elana will cover the cost and you will pay,” Wilma said, seemingly satisfied with our answers. “When the storm has cleared, Elana, you will handle three of my less pleasant tasks. I already have them in mind and, no, you may not know what they are, only that you will not be required to hurt anyone. Do you accept these terms?”

  Ann shot me a look and I had the feeling we were thinking the same thing. If we didn’t survive the storm, it wouldn’t matter what the tasks were either way. Besides, she was friends with Chalsarda, I didn’t think she’d make me do anything to piss her off. “Fine, we have a deal on my end.”

  Wilma nodded in agreement. “Then I will secure your passage into the hotel, a seat at the event, and more suitable attire as you two will have to pass for a couple. Do you think you can handle that, Elana?”

  “Hey, why am I being singled out? I asked. “Why aren’t you asking us both?”

  “Please.” Wilma scoffed with an eye roll before turning to Ann. “And now, are you prepared to pay a price as high as you know I can command? Are you willing to make the sacrifice necessary to complete this bargain?”

  Ann looked like she was swallowing an egg, my guess being that she’d been a party to some of Wilma’s deals in the past and was preparing for the worst. “Yes, absolutely,” Ann managed.

  “Good, then you may use any of my components at cost just don’t think I won’t know what you use—it’s coming out of your paycheck,” Wilma replied as she turned away from us and unlocked a storage room door.

  “That’s it?” Ann asked, clearly confused.

  “Well, I’m not helping you with your potions, that’s for sure,” Wilma scoffed. Then after a beat, she broke the silence. “What? I’m not a monster, and you are still my charge after all. I’m not going to let you go in empty-handed. It’s not just the money; if you use anything I have to source on my own, you’re coming with me to replace it.”

  “Seriously, that’s it? Jesus, thank you!”

  “I’d get started if I were you,” Wilma advised, collecting a coat. “Lock up, and replace the wards on your way out, I’ll know if you don’t. And for Pete’s sakes, please try not to die.”

  Wilma walked out into the black night, sounds of the boardwalk leaking in for just a moment until the door banged closed and all was silent again. Ann went over and locked the door, then turned back to me in mild shock. “I, uh, guess we get to work?”

  I was just as unsure about what to do next as she seemed to be.

  “Oh! Before we go back there, just know that it’s all shiny and you’re not allowed to touch any of it and, holy shit, I cannot stress that enough for the love of all that is good in this world, just keep your hands in your pockets until I say otherwise.”

  “Dude! Okay!” I said, hoisting up my elbows with hands still in my pockets. “See? After you.”

  “Oh! And don’t read anything,” she added, pausing after a step.

  “Got it.”

  “And especially don’t read anything out loud.” Ann paused again. “Or in Latin.”

  “Ann!”

  My friend blushed at that. She led us inside and I immediately saw what she meant. Her, “holy shit,” might not have covered it. The stockroom was packed with items radiating magical energy, rows of potions, and a long organized wall of ingredients, reagents, and everything you could need for—well—anything you wanted to make.

  “Look, but don’t touch. I’ll let you know when I need you,” Ann reiterated, getting a couple of bottles in hand and precariously balancing them under one arm while she fished a piece of chalk out of a drawer from a workbench.

  “What in the hell could she possibly need with all of this?” I asked, almost surprised at the level of awe in my voice.

  “She sells it and trades it for favors or protection; dude, it’s her business,” Ann remarked as she tried to get set up. “No one asks why Claire owns so many books. We’d be a lot better off if Wilma helped out, she’s way better at this than me.”

  I sat down in a corner and watched my friend work, occasionally handing her something, but found that I was mostly useless. I really, really wasn’t the right person for potion making and, while I might’ve been offended at the moment Wilma brought it up, even sitting in this room, I could tell that she was right about my craftsmanship. I made items that only seemed to work for me, and she wasn’t wrong about my gloves. My arms ached.

  Ann, though, wow! I don’t even know if she knew how good she was, but she made it look easy and I soon found it impossible to keep up. I thought about my own job, and I couldn’t even draw in the foam of a latte. Here she was, looking bored at her tasks.

  Her work was cut short suddenly when thunder roared, just as chilling as it had been the last time. I’d had
no idea how long we’d been sitting there, but that might’ve been it. The battle cry. The warning call. The beginning of the end. My friend and I exchanged a glance. I left the windowless room to go back to the shop’s entrance and looked out at the boardwalk. Little sprinkles of rain began to build outside on the concrete, creating a serene low ‘pit-pit-pat’ sound. It filled me with dread.

  “We’d better…” I swallowed hard knowing that this was going to get much worse before it got better. “We’d better finish quickly.”

  Ann didn’t argue.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ann wrapped things up as quickly as she could, knowing full well that we were both thinking the same thing: it wasn’t safe to be outside now. Yamata no Orochi, the great beast that was once slain by Susano-o, now in service to the storm god, would be coming for my friends and me. Until it formed, I stood a chance, slim as it was, but there were still a lot of ways that I could get killed out there. The light sprinkle gave a false sense of security, but I knew better. The storm was only going to get worse and, eventually, Freyja’s protections around Los Angeles were going to wear out. The scale of it, though, the storm, their magic; left me reeling. Here we were, Ann and I, a couple of magic users who could, maybe, protect a room with wards from scratch if we had to. Yet Freyja blanketed an entire county from an apocalyptic storm sent by another god. Even if it only held for a day, the sheer amount of energy involved scared me to my core. No one should have that much power, and yet quite a lot of someone’s did.

  I got a text from Claire that Teague came back to the shop. I could only imagine how that was going and, with as good as my imagination is, I imagined things were not going well. Olivia and Teague were in a fight, leaving Jason and Claire to play peacemakers. I didn’t see either of them backing down, but they’d need to for what was ahead.

  I stayed in the front half of the store while Ann finished up. She came back after a while with three mason jars filled with a clear, syrupy-looking liquid decorated inside with sparkling flakes like faraway stars, and a smaller, opaque sphere with a bit of cloth held on one end with a couple of rubber bands.

  “Did you make Goldschläger?” I asked curiously.

  “You’ll wish I had.” Ann sighed, handing me one of the mason jars. “Chug, don’t sip.”

  I took the jar and eyed her suspiciously. “What’s this?”

  “It’s fine, I promise,” she replied, setting the other bottles down and pulling out her phone, pointing it at me.

  “Okay, so it’s not fine,” I said, studying the liquid in the jar. “And are you joining me or is this all for me?”

  “I’m right behind you,” Ann was barely containing a smile at this point. “Down the hatch.”

  This wasn’t the first time I’d drank one of Ann’s potions and, more often than not, they don’t go as planned. Granted, this was the first time she was making something she’d practiced and wasn’t just experimenting, but still. One time, she’d convinced me that she was pretty sure she’d figured out how to make a potion for water breathing and, three hours later, I was being yelled at by a demon who let me know that I was no longer welcome in Chili’s.

  “This stays off Instagram,” I warned, remembering Chili’s. “Seriously, we talked about this. No magic stuff on social media.”

  “Dude, for as much as you just cost me with these potions, I am—at the very least—recording your reaction for posterity.”

  “Whatever,” I conceded. “Chug, don’t sip, right?”

  I put the bottle to my lips and tilted my head back, immediately regretting my entire goddamn life. A sensation like warm soft wax hit my tongue as the liquid went down my throat. The flakes, whatever they were, exploded one at a time as the contents of the potion hit my stomach. The concoction seemed to leave the jar faster than possible, filling my cheeks, but this was magic, so I don’t know why anything that seemed impossible ever surprised me.

  When the jar was emptied, I shattered it on the floor with every ounce of strength in my arm, and I turned to scream a challenge at the rain. I could feel pinpricks on my flesh from my head to the soles of my feet, like infinite needles tattooing confidence into me.

  “How are you feeling?” Ann asked behind me, I almost wasn’t aware of her.

  “I want to box with God!” I shouted, impulsively needing to throttle something.

  “Give it a second,” she urged and, sure enough, a few lung stretching breaths later, the tingles went away and I calmed down, completely evened out.

  “Was that PCP?” I asked after a moment. “Is that magic meth?”

  Ann put her phone away and spoke softly, “For your own sake, I’m not going to tell you what was in that or what it’s called, but I will say that, no, there were no narcotics in that potion. But I will tell you what it does.”

  “You mean besides the short burst of berserker fury?” I asked, rubbing at my chest where I felt my lungs had strained.

  “It’s a sort of stay up potion,” she said carefully. “For the next three or four days, you won’t need sleep. As in, your mind won’t need the REM cycles and you’re pretty much immune to feeling tired or sluggish. Physical exhaustion is still a thing—this isn’t going to win you a marathon—but you’ll only feel the physical effects. You’re going to bounce back like a… what’s a thing that keeps going and going?”

  “An argument on the internet?”

  “Sure.” Ann shrugged. “Anyway, I made one for you, me, and Olivia since I figure we’re going to be the ones out in the field.”

  “That’s incredible,” I said, feeling more alert by the second.

  “Well, I hope you like it because each one of these costs me, like, a week’s pay, wouldn’t be so much if it weren’t the diamond shards,” Ann grumbled. “And no, you’re not going to shit diamond shards. The diamonds already burst in your stomach.”

  “What?” I asked incredulously.

  Ann seemed to ignore me and continued. “Whatever, Wilma has me make a batch of these at least twice a week, they’re a pretty popular item. Addictive maybe, but I couldn’t say for sure, but at least I got to see a human drink one!”

  I had a lot I wanted to respond to from that, but instead, I fished out my own phone and said, “Your turn.”

  Ann looked like she wanted to be sick as she put her phone, keys, and everything else she had on her person onto the counter on the other side of the room before scooping up the mason jar with more bravado than I would’ve thought possible and said, “Don’t let me swallow my tongue.”

  I couldn’t help but be impressed at how fearlessly Ann consumed the potion without any apparent hesitation. Maybe she just knew better or perhaps she wanted it to be over, either way, that jar was shattered about as quickly as mine was.

  Ann began jumping in place, rapidly shaking her hands as she did and, for the briefest of moments, she reminded me of a penguin angry enough to take flight on sheer will alone. More curse words flew out of her than I previously thought existed, and at one point, I thought she might have been developing a new language.

  “Good stuff, right?” I asked carefully.

  Ann sharply held a finger up with one hand to indicate that I be quiet while she adjusted her glasses with the other, intensely pacing back and forth across the shop floor, crunching glass underfoot without a second thought. It took a bit longer than it had for me, but she eventually leveled off.

  “Jesus Christ, we sell that?” Those were the first words out of her mouth and something flickered behind her eyes. “And I make them? Elana! Do you have any idea how many of these I’ve made these past couple of months? I’m a drug dealer!”

  “Technically, Wilma’s the dealer,” I corrected. “I think you’re what those in the business refer to as a cook.”

  “That was horrible!”

  I was trying very hard not to laugh. “Listen, I get how awful that whole thing was, believe me,” I offered. “But look on the bright side.”

  “And what’s that?”

 
; I held up my phone. “I got to record it.”

  “Ha! But seriously though, I think I make drugs.”

  “That’s a moral dilemma for future Ann. You got everything?”

  “No, I need my spellbook,” she replied thoughtfully. “Probably don’t want to forget that.”

  Ann left the room and I examined the broken glass all over the floor, wondering if there was maybe a broom, or something, or if we were just going to leave with the shop like that. The creaking of the storeroom door interrupted my thoughts, and Ann emerged with her composition notebook that was somehow, miraculously, a spellbook. From what I understood from Abarta, those usually took decades—if not centuries—to master, yet Ann had made one after a quick trip to the Dollar Tree.

  “One of these days, you’re going to have to teach me how to make one of those,” I commented, gesturing toward the book. “And maybe how to make a potion that doesn’t explode before I drink it.”

  “Right after you teach me how to make a bulletproof jacket,” she quipped absently, opening to a page in her spellbook and whispering something inaudible to the existing wards on the backdoor. Apparently, the comment didn’t require an answer as she walked past me out the front door.

  “Hey, stay alert,” I tried to warn her as I followed her out of the building.

  Ann rolled her eyes as if we had any other choice. “You think they’re waiting for us?”

  “It’s hard to say,” I answered truthfully. “We don’t know how much they’ve prepared on their end or if they know where we are. But we do know that out here, we’re fair game and, putting that aside, it’s the middle of the night in the middle of a magical storm. I’m not excited to learn what else is waiting for us.”

  “Well, whatever it is, you can probably set it on fire,” Ann said, clutching her knuckle duster cat keychain between her fingers. “And if it’s not flammable, I’ll poke the hell out of it.”

  Ann earned points for enthusiasm, if nothing else.

  By the time we made it away from the boardwalk, the foot traffic was worse than the car traffic; everyone was trying to leave at once. Getting a ride back to my car was looking like a costly venture, given the surge pricing in the area for any kind of rideshare. Drunken revelry wasn’t uncommon around here—I’d even been a part of it once in a while—but the ridesharing algorithms knew that as well and were looking to charge me no less than thirty-two dollars to travel a mile or so.