by Tao Wong
“Somewhat,” Caleb said. “Your power is useful, but Ms. Dumough on the other hand represents a power that has hunted and will hunt them down. Offering a business arrangement, an impersonal mien, while dealing with supernatural races allows all parties to grasp and operate on a comfortable footing.”
“So she might want to be friends but doesn’t know how?” I asked slowly.
“I will not speculate on her feelings, but she has good reason to be wary of the races,” Caleb said. “And they, of her. As would you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. That I knew. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been warned that at the end of the day, my “friend” was going to demand my ring at some point, which left me wondering, once again, if I should perhaps not help her. But I knew too the Templars would just replace her, probably with someone else, someone who might not be “fated” to be here but who was less friendly.
And in the end, I did consider Alexa my friend. Even if she didn’t, me.
“If we are done, let us review the ritual you have been working on,” Caleb said, tapping the table to bring my attention back to him. I sighed but nodded, focusing on the ritual. It wasn’t going to draw itself.
***
Later that day, I stumbled back into our house, notebook filled with scribbled notes about the ritual and other aspects of rituals. Lunch was a hurried affair, Alexa almost dragging me off my seat as I finished my noodles.
“Okay already. I’m coming,” I grumped at her, shrugging my coat on and grabbing my trusty backpack. “It’s not as if the ritual is going to break right this second.”
“But the contractors are arriving today,” Alexa said, “and they want to speak with you.”
“Contractors?”
“The supernatural ones you insisted we hire,” Alexa said, ushering me into the car. Within seconds, she had pulled away from the curb and merged with traffic, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
“Oh, those. Glad you all finally decided to be smart about it,” I said, smiling grimly. With the right group, the orphanage could probably finish the necessary work without disturbing the ritual further or, at the very least, mask it so it looked like the work was done while other, more magical means were used to create the same effect.
“It is not smart to let the…” Alexa trailed off and shut her mouth.
“The what?” I asked, prodding.
“The enemy.” Alexa jutted her chin out, fingers squeezing the wheel tighter as she waited for me to explode. “Wait.”
I watched all this quietly but decided not to comment, the information and her reaction no longer a surprise. Though, I had a feeling her reactions were not so much over her feelings but concern over me attacking her beliefs again.
“Who do we have coming?” I asked.
“There are meant to be three contractors.” Alexa’s shoulders relaxed slightly at my topic change. “The Grimwalls are bidding, as are the McClintocks and PMC.”
The Grimwalls were a dwarven company, one we had actually done work for before. Good people, though I was somewhat hesitant about their level of magical knowledge. After all, the last time they ran into an unusual ward, they’d hired me to figure it out.
“The McClintocks are a group of Scottish fae. They don’t do a lot of work for non-fae, but since our building is mostly stone and mortar, they are willing to give it a shot. As for the PMC, they’re a multi-national corporation. We’d actually tried to hire them at first, but they had no crews available. Now, they want to assess the work before committing,” Alexa explained, giving me details of the two I didn’t know.
“And I’m there for…”
“To reassure them the ritual is not active, to answer questions about the rituals you created, and be our magical consultant,” Alexa said.
“Har. Consultants get paid,” I grumbled.
“You are,” Alexa pointed out, and I shut my mouth, recalling the fact that I actually did negotiate payment earlier on. I’d actually forgotten, having delegated this entire quest under “helping a friend.” Since it was an actual quest, a real job, perhaps I should stop contemplating stopping work. It’d be really unprofessional after all.
When we finally pulled up, it was to the sight of the Grimwalls stomping out, the titular-named leader literally scurrying out of the building. By the time Alexa had the car parked and I was out, the dwarves were too far for me to call to them, especially considering they seemed to be very clear in their desire to be gone.
“That’s not foreboding at all,” I muttered. I grabbed my bag and walked in. The abbess gave me a relieved smile when she noted my presence and quickly waved me in. “Problem?”
“The atmosphere was a bit much for the Grimwalls,” she said softly, gesturing within. I nodded slowly, making a face, and took directions to find the other pair of contractors in the basement, staring at some damaged wallboards. As I walked, I sampled the increased mana corruption, the dense block of corrupted mana filling the entire building and its grounds. Obviously, our attempts at containing the corruption had worked.
Legends had the fae as beautiful, amazing creatures whose very presence could enchant and terrorize in equal measure, but it was a bit of a lie really. At least for those fae who still lived on Earth. With the ever-increasing volume of iron and the corruption and destruction of nature, pure-blooded fae had left our world long ago. Only the changelings, the thin bloods, and the lower fae were left, groups who could handle the pervasive use of technology. The fae still weren’t happy with their new situation, many electing to stay in communes or in smaller towns, but they stayed. Truth be told, staring at the duo of thin bloods, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I literally could have taken either one, dumped them in the middle of a country music concert, blinked, and have lost them.
The PMCs were somewhat more interesting. Their leader was tall and angular, his face covered by large aviator sunglasses which did little to hide his antenna or the bulge beneath the back of his coat where his wings hid. His female assistant was wearing a tank top, one leg cocked and giving the fae boys a wide grin, a red cap jauntily pressed over her long, furred ears.
“Hi there,” I said, greeting everyone. Once introductions were complete, the questions started flying. It was nice to be the center of attention, especially over something I had some expertise in. It was a great ego boost, until the fae started asking questions I couldn’t answer.
“No, I don’t know what the eighty-third line does yet.”
“You’re right. That isn’t a bleed-off. On second thought, it’s probably Jamal’s self-reinforcing transformation equation.”
“I don’t know if it could be bypassed. That’d depend on the inner circle which I haven’t studied yet,” I said finally, throwing my hands up in exasperation. I received glares from the fae at my actions, but hell. “Look, we just need you to finish the job. I’ll fix the ritual eventually, but it’s huge!”
“We are asking because we are not able to provide an adequate quote without sufficient information,” the leading fae said, arms crossed. “You say the ritual circle is not dangerous, but you then admit you do not even understand it properly.”
“Just because I don’t understand what the circle is doing in its entirety doesn’t mean I can’t tell if it’s dangerous or not,” I snapped.
“Then are you willing to place your word on this?” the mothman asked, jumping in immediately.
“Yes!” I said, feet tapping with impatience. The moment I uttered my assurance, the tension in the room dissipated. I frowned, looking between the pair of consultant groups before my arm was gently yanked backward, and I was led out by an apologizing initiate.
“What?” I asked her.
“We’ve talked about giving your word!” Alexa said with a hiss.
“And I’ll stand by this,” I said and pointed at the ritual carvings around us. “Those are fine. Can’t say much about the inner ritual, but so long as they avoid it, like I told
them to…” I raised my voice at the last bit, making sure the contractors heard it. “We should be fine.”
“Theoretically. As far as you know,” Alexa pointed out.
“That’s all I can offer.”
“And if you’re wrong, your reputation will suffer,” Alexa said.
“If I’m wrong, and this place blows up, a lot more than my reputation is going to be a problem,” I said, shaking my head. “No. I’ll stand by my words. And if I’m wrong, I’ll take the hit. But, on that note, I should be going over those rituals more. Unless you think they need me to hold their hand more?”
Alexa snorted at my words but waved me away. I took off, checking my mental map to verify the last spot I had been at as I extended my senses to encompass the slowly leaking ritual circles. Now that I was in the basement, I could sense the cold, dark mana that escaped was escaping at an even higher rate. I stared down the hallway toward the room that had been locked, my mind turning over the implications. An inadvertent side effect or an attack?
Unfortunately, I had nothing to go on, and so I turned to the external ritual, noting the areas that had been damaged and the increasingly worn areas. The initial damage was minimal, but as time passed, the ritual continued to wear itself down as the broken parts placed greater strain on the rest of the circle. In time, the entire ritual would fail.
Which was fine in itself. As I’d told the contractors, there was no chance of the external ritual blowing up. It was just a giant collector, one that focused and drew mana from the surroundings with some minor glamour and reinforcing glyphs. Part of the trick when we had created our own ritual around the fence had been in creating a one-way porous shield such that mana could still be gathered by this external ritual.
The problem was, once the external ritual failed, it would no longer power the internal, smaller containment ritual, which was the concern. Realistically, I had two choices: fix the external ritual or, failing that, modify the internal one so it did not need an external ritual. Neither was particularly easy.
Which is what brought me here, taking down notes, activating portions of the ritual so I could study the ritual formulas and then move on to the next portion.
***
Two days later, I stood before the last ritual center in contemplative silence. In my mind’s eye, the ritual formulas danced, equations shifting as I adjusted the formula to patch in my fix. Eventually, I exhaled and pulled my notebook out of my pocket, canceling the latest scribbled section and writing in the new correction. With this, I should be done.
I blinked when I stepped into the sunlight a few minutes later, wincing at the harsh light hurting my eyes. Damn, I’d been down there for too long. Again.
“Are you taking a break?” the abbess asked, appearing by my shoulder like a ghost.
“No. I’m done,” I said, offering her a smile.
“Done?” The excitement in her voice was palatable. “Will you be doing the ritual today?”
“No. There’s a few things we need to collect,” I said. Before she could ask, I pulled my notebook out of my pocket, tore the page off, and handed it to her. “The list of materials I require are here.”
“We’ll get it…” The abbess trailed off as she stared at the list, her jaw working silently at first before her shock finally wore off. “Isn’t this a little excessive?”
“No.”
“But silver dust? Eight pounds of salt, that’s easy enough. Wood shavings from a two-hundred-year-old elm tree, that’s—”
“It’s all necessary,” I said, cutting her off, my face grim. “There are three ways to strengthen and fix your ritual circle. The first is to have me do it using the materials I’ve requested. The second, you hire a full mage, one who has more experience and a much deeper mana pool. They’ll be able to inlay the ritual formulas directly without using as many supporting materials. Or thirdly, you can find whoever put the ritual in place in the first place and have them do it.
“But I doubt the third option is viable because otherwise you’d have already taken it, and considering most mages won’t work for you, the second option might not be possible either. Certainly not in the timeframe you need.”
I watched as her lips pressed firmly together while my tirade continued, but I was tired, grumpy, and fed-up with having information withheld from me while being expected to make miracles happen. Perhaps there were cheaper, easier ways of completing the ritual, but we neither had the time nor did I have the inclination to consider them any longer.
“How long do you need?” I asked.
The abbess glanced at the list again and shook her head after a short while. “I do not know. Much of the material is not rare, but it is not as if we purchase these items regularly.”
“Tomorrow. Or the day after. Any longer than that, and I can’t promise you the inner circle will hold.”
“That soon?” she asked with a hiss.
“Yes.” I might be exaggerating, but I figured overestimating the wear was better than underestimating it.
“We’ll get right on it.”
I nodded to her, offering her a quick wave of my hand. Before I left, I checked in on the contractors—PMC being the eventual winner—in case they had any further questions. They had a few, but thankfully, unlike the mundanes, they had a clear idea of what they should or should not do. If nothing else, they just avoided the areas that were mana infused.
After that, I spent a few minutes and verified the enchantment around the gym still held before I made a couple more pendants for the kids and eventually left. It wasn’t perfect, and I really hoped to clear the issue up sooner rather than later—if nothing else than to let the children make their way back to their beds at night.
It was when I was nearly home that I recalled my appointment with Adom. When I finally made it to the library, I found the figure seated at the same table we had first met, a large folder sitting across from him. I frowned, staring at the folder, but fished out the newly withdrawn payment and handed it to the supe. As I scooped up the folder, I paused.
“Is there anything I should know?”
“Of import?” Adom paused, considering. “Much of interest. Little of direct relevance to your concern. I was able to ascertain that the building had seen major renovations in the late seventies, focused on the basement area. It was marked as an extension and introduction of heating, but I understand the plans submitted were more extensive,” Adom said. “However, there are no other significant notes. No burial grounds, no ley lines or previous owners of the demonic nature.”
“Great!” I said with a smile and then hurried out, exhaustion wracking my body. A part of me wondered if paying that thousand dollars, money that was much needed to get exactly zero real information was worth it. Then again, perhaps it was like insurance. You hated paying for it until that one time when it panned out. Though, considering the worst case scenarios involved, I’m leaning towards never getting a payout.
Once I was finally done with delaying, I made my way home to collapse in my bed. Two long days of studying ritual formulas meant that when I did fall asleep, I dreamed of floating spell equations and a tag-team matchup of disgruntled authority figures of Caleb and the abbess taking turns berating me for my lack of talent.
Chapter 16
“No class this morning?” Lily asked, noting how slowly and languidly I was eating my breakfast.
I sipped at my coffee before I finally answered the jinn, trying desperately to banish the last of Hypnos’s dust. Wait. Did Hypnos actually exist in this world? I frowned, tapping the mug of coffee in my hand with one finger. If vampires, werewolves, and the fae existed, why not gods? And if so, how the hell do I keep off their radar.
“Henry?”
“Sorry. Are gods real?” I asked.
“Real enough,” Lily said. “Though they’re less godlike and just beings of incredible power. Some have limits on what they can do. Others are somewhat less constrained but more… remo
te. The goings-on of earth and its mortals are of little concern.”
“Ah…” I filed the information away before cocking my head to the side. “And no, no class today. I texted Caleb last night. I don’t think I can stand another day of having ritual knowledge stuffed in my brain.”
“So what are your plans for today? I notice Alexa left early.”
“I understand she’s helping with locating the required materials,” I said. “And my plans are to turn into a giant vegetable. I still have to catch up on my reading.” I pointed to the box of books that had yet to be unpacked in the corner, one labeled “unread.”
“Nope,” Lily said, shaking her head. “Can’t do it.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned. “I’m pretty sure I can.”
“Nope. You’ve got a quest,” Lily said and waved her hand.
Feed the Children
Newborn knockers require specialized sustenance. Help a mother feed her children!
“Alexa’s not here…” I said, frowning at the quest information, curious to see what those damn Welsh supernaturals looked like. Certainly I’d been caught out by pop-culture expectations of what the supernaturals should be like more than once.
“Do you need her to hold your hand?” Lily asked, putting her fists on her hips. “Or are you man enough to run a little non-combat quest yourself?”
“One. That’s not going to work on me. Two. I didn’t accept that quest.”
“Mandatory quest. You’re being railroaded,” Lily said with a smirk. When I refused to move my butt, she added a plaintive whine. “Please? I really want to get out of the house.”
“You can always come along. Or hell, leave yourself!”
“But it’s no fun without you. Please?” Lily said, putting her hands together and doing the entire big-eyes thing. Her act broke my brain for a second, the sight of an all-powerful jinn giving me wide eyes like an anime character just a little too strange.