by Tao Wong
“Enough already,” I said. “I’ll do it, and you can come.”
“Yay!” Lily said with a wide grin. “Now, I’ve got to figure out what to wear.” The next second, the jinn was walking to the bathroom to use the full-length mirror and her abilities to alter her clothing.
I sighed, watching her leave, and kept my thoughts and sudden realization to myself. Better to not let the all-powerful GM of my life know I saw through her naïve act, that her sudden interest in clothing was just a cover for her nervousness about going out. In truth, I was somewhat happy to see her take the initiative. While her agoraphobia had lessened significantly, Lily still did not take advantage of her freedom as much as she could. Sometimes, I wondered if it was because she was afraid it would all be taken away, snatched from her grasp by my death.
“Could have waited till I finished breakfast though,” I muttered and turned back to my toast. Breakfast. Yummm…
***
Standing by the bus stop, waiting for our conveyance to arrive, I found myself staring at Lily who was seated under the supplied awning, hands clasped in front of her tightly. In her stylish, short leather coat, grey tights, and green blouse, she could have passed for any young worker on her day off.
“So, spriggans,” I said, to break the silence.
“Spriggans. We’ve got to get their newborn food, specifically scapolite, but it can’t just be any, since the purity and rarity makes a difference. It dictates the amount of mana and thus the child’s growth in the beginning,” Lily said. “Which is why you’re here.”
“Because I can see mana,” I said, nodding. “Are we, or are we not going mining?”
Lily snorted, shaking her head. “Of course not. Do you think I’d dress up like this to go mining?” Lily smirked. “We’re going shopping.”
“Shop—” Oh. Right. There were people who actually bought rocks for amusement and health. I mentally smacked myself upside the back of my head though. Just because I used to think buying rocks because it was good energy was wasteful did not make it wrong. These days, well, I couldn’t really discount anything. Being open minded was tiring damn it.
“Midtown Mall, here we go!” Lily said, waving her hand around. I laughed at her sudden exuberance and leaned in, settling down for the long wait. Right. Time to get some baby supernaturals some nice, crunchy rocks to eat.
Hours later when we finally stumbled out of the rock shop clutching our three purchases, each of which glowed with the subtle lines of condensed mana, I noted how Lily’s initial excitement had waned. In fact, if not for her darker complexion, she’d have been unhealthily pale. As it stood, there was a glazed look to her eyes that I did not like. When I guided her to take a seat in the food court without protest, I knew there was something wrong.
“Here,” I said, dropping a giant cup of frozen, mushed fruits in front of her. “Drink up.”
“Thank you,” Lily said, sipping delicately at the drink while her hands wrapped around the cup. I sat beside her, staying silent while waiting for her to get around to speaking to me. “It’s just… This looked fun, you know? On your TV.”
“But it isn’t?” I asked, glancing around the crowd. It was the middle of the week, so the shopping mall was not, by any reasonable standards, crowded. Since this entire mall catered to the more esoteric tastes, including a couple of fortune tellers and a martial arts gym promising to teach you the “real ninjutsu,” it probably was never that busy even on weekends.
“It’s okay, but…” Lily exhaled. “It’s been so long since I have been allowed out, and the world, your world, is so confusing. The clothing, the fashions, the language. Magic lets me understand, to grasp the changes, but it doesn’t make it any less surprising.”
I sipped at my drink as I waited for Lily to continue to talk while she explained what it was that was bothering her. Even if I did have an urge to perhaps offer some suggestions, I squashed it. What could I offer a millennia-old jinn? What did I know of her experiences, of her world? Sure, she had thousands of years of history to draw upon, but so many of those years she’d spent in her ring.
“It’s just a change,” Lily said, turning her head to look around. “But a good one. Your food, your technology is a marvel. Magic, without mana. Magic for the common people.”
I smiled slightly, following her gaze to review the fast food court. Greek food, burgers, pizza, western Chinese food, burritos, juice smashed up and frozen… and people, people everywhere reading, listening to music, watching shows on their phones and tablets. Magic, in their hands.
“It is kind of amazing, isn’t it? Though I still like my magic better,” I said. Real magic. Except, the more I studied it, the more I realized it too had its own rules, its own restrictions. And once again, I felt a wash of gratitude that I had met Lily. Not just for making me a mage but because of the information she had downloaded to me. Like science, every aspect of the spells was built upon the works of those before. Each spell formula had been refined by hundreds, sometimes thousands of others. At my beck and call were the formulas that master mages had produced, concepts they had refined.
Of course, there was a negative to that. In many cases, I was a monkey with Lego blocks of spell formulas. Given enough time, I could kludge something together, but the blocks weren’t mine, weren’t optimized. Hell, sometimes I didn’t even understand the blocks beyond the barest aspects. If not for the fact that Lily was slowly feeding the simplest works to me as well as my study under Caleb, I really would be no more than a monkey bashing bricks together.
“Aye, magic is amazing,” Lily said and then touched her phone. “But what you’ve done, the stories you’ve created, the technology you’ve created could rival a god’s. I should know. I’ve met more than a few.” I chuckled, and Lily grinned back at me. “Thank you. For letting me out with your wish. I’ll always remember it.”
I sipped on my drink again, ducking my head at her sincere thanks. Seeing my embarrassment, Lily smirked slightly before prodding my arm. “Now. Food!”
“We just ate… Okay, fine. Lunch.”
Chuckling softly, I stood and walked toward the food options. I knew better than to ask what. Her answer would just be “everything.” But as I walked away, I had to admit this was a better day than my own planned one. A quest to help others, time with a friend, and physical exercise too. What more could I ask for?
Chapter 17
As I stared at the array of stern-faced nuns before me, I had a brief moment of déjà vu. One so strong, I felt disassociated for a second, like a boat tossing on the tumultuous waves of memory. Then, reality snapped back, and I gestured at the chain we’d laid along the hallways.
“We have enough?” I asked, weariness inching into my voice. After all, we’d had to run to the hardware store twice already just to get the damn thing.
“We do now,” one of the nuns said waspishly.
I ignored her tone of voice and reached out to touch the chain, sending a pulse of mana down it. I followed it as it flowed, my frown deepening as I felt the whirls and whorls, the unrefined edges where spell formulas had been compressed together or hastily completed, leaving a leakage. By the time the mana pulse had made its way back to me, it had lost nearly eighty percent of its charge. Unacceptable if I had more time. Utterly unacceptable.
But…
“All right, get to your positions,” I said, dropping the chain and waving the nuns aside. I turned away from the group as they moved away, my mind focused on the other, bigger problem. In minutes, I was before the inner ritual circle room, my hand raised to test its integrity.
Bad. Even without extending my senses, I felt the psychic wind of mana blowing, the pressure being exerted by the being that was contained within the ritual. It was hidden, locked away in another dimension, but through the cracks, through the failing of the ritual circle, it was getting stronger. Much, much stronger. It felt—
“What is it?” Alexa asked when she caught me standing
there, my hand extended and a frown on my face.
“Nothing.”
“What is it,” Alexa demanded.
“It feels like whoever—whatever is behind the circle, it’s pushing with everything it’s got. It’s sacrificing itself—its life to get through. I think… I feel that if it fails, it’s going to die,” I said. “Or at least significantly injure itself.”
“Good.”
“Maybe,” I said softly, dropping my hand.
Alexa stepped forward, putting her face inches from mine when I attempted to turn away. “What do you mean, maybe?”
“Just that,” I said.
“You don’t trust.”
“I trust. Well, you,” I said, pointing at her. “You’re a good person. Even if you try to act like you’re not, you’re a good person. You went with me to find Corey. You let him off the hook for abandoning us. You’re there with me for all of my quests, no matter what they are.
“But your people? The Templars? They’re the same ones who taught you all supernaturals are evil. That the best you can do is have a business relationship with them, be polite and friendly. That in the end, we’re all ravening monsters waiting for the worst to come.”
“Not you—”
I held my hand up. “I’m a mage. I’m barely better than the monsters you label. At least, by your standards,” I said.
“That’s…” Alexa’s lips tightened as she shut her mouth, unable to refute it. I could see the war on her face, the struggle between the deeply rooted beliefs in mercy and charity of her original faith fighting against the indoctrination of the Templars and their own experiences. I watched as conflict flickered across her face before she exhaled, pushing the discussion aside. “What do you intend to do?”
I paused, uncertain. In the end, I had to either blindly trust a group that had already shown itself to be somewhat untrustworthy and fanatical in their beliefs, or I could release something dangerous into the world. On that side of the equation, I had the assurance from Caleb saying whatever I released wasn’t “that” dangerous, but I also knew Caleb was looking at it from the perspective of a master mage, one who saw threats in city-wide scales.
The monster I might release might only be good enough to kill a city block, but that would be little consolation to the victims. Could I, would I potentially condemn others to death? Where, in all this, did I stand? What right did I have to make these decisions?
“Is the mage done yet? Some of us have better things to do,” a voice said, breaking into my thoughts, shrill and high and pitched to ensure I’d heard. My lips twisted, and I realized we’d been standing there for ages, my body wracked with indecision. Damn it.
“Let’s do this,” I said, gesturing for Alexa to follow me. Whatever thoughts I had, whatever doubts, I had come this far. Perhaps sealing the creature within, effectively killing it, was the wrong choice, but right now, I just did not have enough information to contradict the Templars. And for all the distasteful beliefs they had, they had spent centuries protecting humanity. Perhaps a touch of trust was reasonable.
***
“I’m starting,” I called out, my hand on the iron chain while the other slowly worked the various materials into the damaged walls. Most of this prep work had been done already, the materials installed and reworked. Now, under the influence of the spell I was casting, the materials melted and shifted, adjusting themselves and accepting the ritual formulas I was installing in them.
Step by step, spell formulas hovering in my mind, Alexa next to me with my notebook for reminders when I needed them, we walked the perimeter of the building. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. The building itself was broken up by hallways and rooms, forcing me to traverse around obstructions. It was at these times I’d scurry forward as the burden of keeping the ritual empowered fell upon the nuns directly.
Step by step, the ritual was patched, but as each section that had been damaged was fixed, the amount of power flowing through the ritual circle increased. The requirements for keeping the channel open jumped as our strength weakened.
“How many more?” Alexa asked as we hurried out of the boiler room.
“Two,” I said shortly, saving my breath for more important things, like oxygenating my blood.
“Goo—” Alexa jerked to a halt when the entire building trembled. Eyes wide, we both stared around us as dust floated in the air, and the building slowly settled. “Earthquake?”
“Suuure?” I said uncertainly. The building moved, but it had felt wrong somehow. Before I had time to pin down exactly what the problem was, the entire building shuddered again. And then I realized, the building moved but not the floor. “What’s going on?”
My answer came a moment later as a wave of corrupted mana rolled over us. I stretched my senses out, reaching toward the room, and sensed it then, the way the inner ritual circle was fracturing, the way the ritual’s weaknesses were widening. I tensed, waiting as I stood there, my hand outstretched and my senses extended to the maximum.
Smash
I felt it when the impact happened that time, felt the changes in the ritual circle, the way the ritual then shifted the impact into the building itself to blunt some of the force. I felt how the ritual’s cracks widened and the gush of mana as the impact faded.
“It’s attacking the inner circle,” I said, my eyes wide.
“It?”
“Whatever is trapped in there,” I said, biting my lip. My mind spun as I searched for options and considered the ritual. I had no true understanding of the inner circle. I just did not have the ability to patch it together. Any attempt would be more likely to cause problems than solve them.
“Get the children out!” Alexa snapped to one of the few free staff members. They nodded and scurried upstairs while Alexa tried to reassure the trapped staff we would have things fixed. Of course, the way she kept throwing glances at me while she was speaking informed me she might be less certain of that than she said.
Fix the secondary ritual? That made the most sense theoretically. If we fixed it, the reinforced inner ritual might gain sufficient power to stop whatever it was from coming out. Certainly, it’d stabilize somewhat, but with the inner circle even more damaged than previously, could it hold up? Or would I be pouring power into a faulty line?
“Henry!” Alexa snapped at me as I dithered once again, attempting to divine the best solution. Unlike my gaming sessions, I had no time. No time to hesitate, no time to consider all the best options and come up with something smart and cool. I just had to decide.
I crouched, grabbing the chain from the ground and flooded my mana within, taking hold of the spell that had been supported by others. I kept my mana flowing, taking the burden off the staff while I spoke.
“Everybody leaves.”
“What? No. This—”
“I can’t stop the inner circle from crumbling. If we pour more power into it, I can’t guarantee it won’t explode. With the amount of mana that’s been stored inside the circle and the compound, the chain reaction could be explosive,” I said, explaining quickly even as I reached for the spell formulas I had left open. I quickly tied them off as I ran other calculations. “The staff can go. I’ll shut down the ritual, maybe even… Yes, invert the ritual, pull the mana out, and disperse.
“Have them tear up the ritual at the fence when they’re out. Get the kids out. I’ll keep the inner ritual contained for four—no, five minutes.”
“We can help you hold it up!” one of the nuns barked, but I noticed a few others had already left the chain, rushing onward to inform others.
I shook my head in negation and pointed upward. “Kids.”
I saw the conflict on their faces, the struggle. Their duty to the children won out over their stubbornness and distrust. With a nod, they let go and headed up the stairs, the commotion from above slowly increasing in volume. The pounding of feet, the raised voices of children and teenagers who tumbled around in surprise, it all
filtered from above and reinforced my conviction to keep this ramshackle, hodgepodge of magic holding.
Desires were weak shields against the spears of reality. With the nuns gone, I was bearing the cost of keeping multiple rituals open. Even as I shut the open connections down, finishing the patches one by one, I was also opening other areas, inverting certain aspects of the runes. The burden kept increasing, making me grit my teeth as energy continued to course out of me.
Then, blessed relief. As if someone had joined me in pushing a car, I felt mana flowing again in the chain. This mana was cleaner, brighter than the others. Not pure but lighter and hopeful. There was only one person who I knew who passed that kind of mana on.
“Alexa?”
“Don’t bother asking. It’s my job, remember?” Alexa said softly. Refocusing on the real world, I saw her stationed facing down the corridor, one hand on the chain, the other holding her spear, glowing with a pure, bright light.
“Thanks.”
“Just do your thing,” Alexa said.
And to that, I could only nod.
Chapter 18
Carry the two, multiple by eight hundred and fifty-three, integral of the result… Use Roland’s Fourth Law of Motion on the result, add Kaylee’s Sub-planar Integration Formula but swap the third and eighth lines out. My mind swam with formulas and calculations that were one part math, one part mystic formulas, and the last part intuition. Apply vigorously to close the open ritual circle.
Next.
My left hand clenched around the chain, feeding mana into the ritual circle. My right twisted and jerked as I used a physical component to substitute for portions of the formula while I chanted aloud. Pressure continued to increase, mana dropped, and still, there were four more open connections and three areas I needed to invert.
Worst of all, we could only continue to feed the power in until I flicked the switch on the ritual. That meant the creature within the inner circle continued to bash at it without cease, not knowing we were going to release it anyway. It meant each attack sent a jarring force through the building, adding cracks that spread and knocked dust around. In addition, the blowback from the impacts toward the second ritual circle was painful to say the least and always took a few precious seconds to recover from.