Magic Ain't a Game

by P. D. Workman

  “I see.” There was a frown line between Julian’s brows. “What occasion did you have to be discussing draugar with him?”

  Reg shrugged. She was cautious. Corvin and the others had not told her that she should not discuss the draugrs with anyone else. But she didn’t want to cause herself or the others any problems if their actions came to the attention of the authorities. Reg had no idea whether they had been acting outside of magical laws. At the time, she had assumed that there were not any laws governing their actions. They certainly hadn’t gone to the authorities for permission to do anything or called in magical SWAT to deal with the Witch Doctor and his draugar minions.

  Sarah said that the cardinal law for magical practitioners was not to do harm to others. And they hadn’t done any harm to the Witch Doctor. Not exactly. They had protected the people of Black Sands. They had saved a lot of lives by defeating the Witch Doctor.

  “I don’t remember. It was just a pet topic.”

  “I will definitely want to talk to this Corvin Hunter.”

  Reg had assumed that he would be talking to all three of them anyway. If he was investigating something that had happened in the Everglades, then he would need to speak to all three of them, wouldn’t he? Because they had been together the whole time.

  Well, almost the whole time.

  Not quite.

  She shifted uncomfortably. What was he asking about that only she was involved with? Julian eyed her, looking smugly pleased at her discomfort. This was what he liked. To be in a position of power. For people to be frightened of him. Sarah taking him down a peg had left him angry and impotent, and he was reasserting his position over Reg.

  “Tell me about your trip. When did you arrive? What did you do when you got there?”

  Reg took him through the initial steps of their trip and meeting up with Corvin, who had sped ahead of Damon and Reg. He took them to the boat, where they met their guide, Tybalt.

  “What did you think of him?” Julian asked.

  “I don’t know… I thought at first that he was… pale for someone who spent all day in the sun. But other than that… nothing special. He seemed like he knew what he was doing.”

  “What did you do next?”

  Reg was hesitant to divulge their actions in any detail. She still didn’t know what crime he thought she had committed and didn’t want to admit to something just because she didn’t understand the magical laws surrounding it. Besides, it had been a quest. Weren’t there different rules for a quest? An unspoken agreement that you didn’t describe the details to anyone else? Wasn’t she allowed to have trade secrets around her psychic powers?

  She kept it as general as she could, watching Julian’s face and aura for tells. For what it was that interested him the most. What was he looking for?

  “When did your opinion of Tybalt change?” Julian asked.

  “It didn’t change. I didn’t know him, so I didn’t really have an opinion. I was just… developing one, I guess.”

  “You thought he was a competent guide. That was all.”

  “Yes. I was trying to figure out if he was a practitioner or not. What we could say around him and what we should keep under wraps.”

  “And your conclusion was?”

  “He didn’t seem to be surprised at the fact that I thought I had psychic powers. I figured he was open even if he wasn’t a practitioner himself.”

  “You were okay with discussing your plans in front of him.”

  “Sort of. We didn’t discuss anything detailed in front of him. Just the general stuff. And no names. We never asked him… if he’d seen Wilson.”

  “Do you think you should have?”

  “No. I just mean… we didn’t see him that way. As a witness. Just as a guide to take us from one part of the park to another.”

  “And did that change?”

  “Not until… later…” Reg thought about how she was going to tell him about the later events. How much should she tell him and what did she need to keep quiet?

  “You were satisfied with his services?”

  “Sure.”

  “And what were your feelings about him personally? Didn’t you like him?”

  Had she given that away in her voice or manner?

  “No, he was fine. It’s just that… I wasn’t feeling very well, and… well, he smelled bad. It made me feel sicker.”

  He wrote something down. Reg watched his pen move. He was writing down that Tybalt smelled bad?

  “I just wasn’t feeling well,” she repeated.

  “It was Hunter who hired him?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he tell you about Tybalt?”

  “That he had… good references. People had recommended him.”

  “But you were more concerned about his smell.”

  “You asked me. I was trying to give you some details. That’s something I noticed about him. And I didn’t want to be around him because of it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Reg couldn’t figure out what Julian was writing down. Why would it make any difference whether she liked Tybalt or not? Or that he smelled bad? It wasn’t exactly a confession to having done something heinous in the Everglades.

  She had assumed that it was either something to do with Wilson and what had happened when they got him back to Black Sands or something like having stepped on a rare butterfly or trampled a plant worth millions of dollars. She tried to make sense of his questions and predict where he was going.

  Julian looked up from his writing and smirked. “Still trying to figure it out?” he teased.

  “I just want to know how much longer this is going to take. I don’t know how anything I have to say could be of any interest to you.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  She hated the smirk. She hated the way that her heart sped up every time he looked at her. And not because she was attracted to him. Just the opposite. She was repelled and wanted to get away from him. She wanted him to take his papers and his smug expression and snide, needling words, and to go away. And never come back.

  Reg took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t like she was in danger. So far, all he had done was to ask her routine, easy-to-answer questions. It wasn’t like when she had been in that room before, the Witch Doctor closing in on her. That had been one of the most terrifying experiences of her life.

  But it was also when she had met or been reintroduced to Harrison. And that had been a bright point. She still wasn’t sure what she thought of Harrison, but she had an affection for him. He might not always do what she wanted him to—in fact, she wasn’t sure he had ever done exactly what she wanted—but he was her godfather, of a sort, and he had protected her when she was most vulnerable. And not only once. Despite his failings and quirks, she couldn’t help her warm feelings toward him.

  “I like you too,” Harrison said, sitting on the edge of the table she and Julian were seated at. Reg and Julian both jumped back, startled by his sudden appearance. Reg should have known better than to think too deeply about him and his protections. She might as well have called his name.

  “Who are you?” Julian squawked, standing up so fast that his chair clattered to the floor.

  “This is Harrison,” Reg said calmly, leaning back, overemphasizing how relaxed she was about having Harrison suddenly appear out of thin air.

  “Harrison. And who or what are you?” the magical investigator demanded, his voice cracking, giving away his high emotion even though he was doing a good job at smoothing over his facial expression. He was still extremely pale and it was obvious he didn’t know how to handle this sudden intrusion.

  Then his face grew rigid. He looked at Reg, then back at Harrison. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing down and up again. Reg gathered by his reaction that he knew Harrison. She supposed that if there were few immortals left in the world, they might be on some sort of magical endangered species list that Julian referred to regularly.

  “I am who and what I am,�
�� Harrison said logically, never quite able to catch the nuances of human communications. “Harrison.” He cocked his head to the side slightly, studying Julian. He leaned forward, looking even more closely, as if he were putting Julian under a microscope. “You… I have seen before.”

  At the annual endangered creatures Christmas party, maybe?

  Julian licked his lips.

  “No. I would remember you.”

  Harrison was hard to forget. His long, lanky body and limbs, his just-slightly-off sense of fashion, currently sporting a red beret and a blue, thick wool coat. And white trousers with black pinstripes. It might have worked for someone else, but the overall effect on Harrison was of a demented French man.

  “No. I know you,” Harrison repeated. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling as if trying to remember when he might have seen Julian before. Dramatic, playing it up. He had probably remembered all of the details as soon as he saw Julian, but he liked to dramatize. “You…” he pointed at Julian, “and you…” he pointed at Reg. “You two were… married?”

  Reg was aghast. “Married? No! I’ve never been married. And I certainly would never marry someone like him.”

  “No? Some other relationship, then.” He shook his head slightly. “Brother?” he asked finally.

  “Yes. Sort of. He was a foster brother for a while.” She could understand why Harrison wouldn’t understand the difference between a natural brother and a foster brother. Immortals probably didn’t have an equivalent relationship to compare it to. Even the parent and child relationships seemed to be a little bit screwed up when you started talking about Olympian gods.

  “Yes.” Harrison gazed at Julian. “You… were a problem.”

  Julian took a step back. As if being one step farther away from Harrison would make any difference. Harrison could transport them all to a different place or time at will. He had the power to do whatever he wanted to.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re mistaking me for someone else.”

  Harrison looked at Reg, raising his eyebrows. “He was, wasn’t he? He used to do things to upset you. Damage you.”

  Reg didn’t want to think about it. She had put her former life behind her. She didn’t want to be reminded of anything that might have “damaged” her. She looked away.

  “I don’t know. He wasn’t very nice. It’s like that sometimes in foster care. Even in natural families. Siblings don’t always get along.”

  Harrison slid off the table and walked around Julian. Julian was tall, but Harrison was taller. He looked down at Julian, who clearly did not like being confronted by someone he had to look up to and was more powerful than he was.

  “I told you to leave Reg alone,” Harrison said slowly. “Did I not?”

  Julian pressed his lips together. He darted a look at Reg. “I have a job to do here. I’m not doing anything to hurt her.”

  “He’s been good so far,” Reg confirmed. “I mean, he’s been a jerk, but he hasn’t done anything to… damage me.”

  Reg’s stomach growled. Maybe a conditioned reaction to Harrison being there. Food was one of the things in the mortal world that interested Harrison. He was always eating around her. Harrison gestured to the small table, and it was suddenly covered with various dishes Reg might be interested in, from chocolate mousse to pizza to some kind of meat in a shape Reg did not recognize and probably did not want to ask about. She picked up a roll and spread some jam on it. Something easy for her stomach, since she didn’t usually eat much in the morning. Julian looked at the laden table, then back at Harrison.

  “You are… an immortal?” he asked, finally putting all of the clues together.

  Harrison shrugged in a way that meant that ought to have been obvious. Julian drew closer to Harrison, fascinated, forgetting his fear of moments before. “An immortal. I’ve never seen one before. This is very rare. Very exciting.”

  “Well, you’ve obviously seen one before, if you met Harrison in the past.”

  “Well… I didn’t know what he was then. I just thought… he was a wizard.”

  He had known that a magical being protected Reg. Maybe that was the reason he suspected her of having powers herself. It would be a pretty obvious conclusion.

  Julian studied Harrison closely. But Reg knew there was nothing particularly odd about how Harrison looked, other than his style of dress. He looked completely human. There were no giveaways that Reg could see that he was another race. But Julian was trained. Maybe he could see something Reg could not.

  Maybe he would have known what Tybalt was and not have been taken in by him as Reg had been.

  Chapter Twenty

  How did you do that?” Julian asked, pointing at the table. “By all of the laws of physics, creating matter would require a great deal of energy. The law of conservation… this defies explanation. How could you do that without any apparent effort?”

  Harrison blinked at him. “Humans are convinced that everything is impossible,” he said blandly.

  “Well… it kind of is. Where did all of that food come from? Did you transport it from somewhere else? Did you rearrange the atoms already in the room? What is your energy source?”

  Harrison looked at Reg, rolling his eyes. “Do you want me to demonstrate making a whole human disappear?”

  Reg laughed. “Where would you send him?”

  “Where would I send him? Nowhere. I just told you, I will make him disappear.”

  “But you would have to move him somewhere else, right?”

  “I would move him… nowhere.”

  Julian held up his hands, his face turning red as he choked and tried to find the words to protest. Reg looked at him. Her problem could be gone just like that. He would disappear and she wouldn’t have to worry about any more questions or what else he might have in mind.

  But there would be others. If one Magical Investigator disappeared, she could only imagine how many of them would descend upon her looking for him. And what kind of charges would she face for being complicit in making him disappear? Or they might think that she had killed him. It would be far worse than the current investigation.

  “No… we probably shouldn’t do that,” she told Harrison gently, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed. “Let him do what he came for, and then he’ll go away on his own.”

  “I told him to leave you alone once before. He is not obedient.”

  “It was a long time ago. He probably forgot. And he hasn’t hurt me.”

  Harrison considered this.

  “I haven’t,” Julian choked out in a voice that didn’t even pretend not to be scared. “I haven’t done anything to hurt her… since that day.”

  So he did remember.

  “Humans and their memories,” Harrison said, shaking his head, not picking up on the fact that Julian did, in fact, remember. “They are like head cheese.”

  “Swiss cheese,” Reg corrected.

  Harrison raised his brows at her. “More like head cheese,” he maintained.

  “Umm… okay. But I’m fine.” She put her hand on his arm to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to call for help; I was just remembering when you came here before.”

  “When you were fighting Destine.”

  “Yes.” Reg glanced aside at Julian, trying to warn Harrison not to say too much.

  “Nachos,” Harrison mused. He dug into a platter of nachos on the table, strings of gooey cheese dripping down his chin.

  Reg waited to see if he would go. He picked at a few more things on the table. Julian didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to shoo him out. Harrison was a find for Julian, a new creature to be observed and cataloged.

  Eventually, Harrison looked around and, finding nothing to occupy his interest any longer, he vanished.

  Julian hurried toward the door, waving his arms in front of him like Harrison might have just become invisible and Julian could catch him before he got out the door. But he didn’t encounter anyone in his pathway. The door didn’t open. Juli
an felt the door for some kind of hole or portal, muttering to himself.

  “Fascinating,” he said, shaking his head and marveling at the experience. “Really, truly fascinating.”

  “That’s Uncle Harrison,” Reg said, shrugging.

  “Uncle Harrison?” Julian gaped at her. “You are part immortal?”

  “Oh… he’s not a blood relation.” As far as Reg knew. “He’s just… like my godfather. Someone who helps me out, protects me sometimes.” She deliberately didn’t reveal that Weston, who she believed to be her father, was also an immortal.

  Julian gazed at the table full of food. Sometimes Harrison vanished the food that he apparated, but sometimes he left it behind. Reg was still hungry so, like a daddy bird, he had apparently provided for his fledgling and then flown away.

  She picked up a muffin. Blueberry. She had really liked the blueberry muffins that Erin had made when Reg had visited her in Bald Eagle Falls. Big, plump, juicy blueberries in them, not those hard little nuggets of pseudo-blueberry that bakers sometimes tried to pass off as the real thing. The muffin was still warm. Reg didn’t know if, as Julian said, Harrison had brought the food there from somewhere else, as he did when Reg had told him about Uncle Mike’s ribs, or whether he had conjured them out of nothing, but they wouldn’t stay warm forever. She broke the muffin open and dropped a large pat of butter into the steaming muffin.

  “If you’re hungry, help yourself,” Reg told Julian. “I’m not going to eat it all.”

  He considered the bounty from different angles as if he might find that it was just an illusion or stage prop. “Do you think it’s safe?”

  Reg stopped mid-bite. She snorted. “Is it safe?” she repeated around the large bite of muffin. She chewed and swallowed, washing it down with a drink of milk. “Would I be eating it if it wasn’t safe?”

  “You might be one of them. Maybe it’s fine for you, but for me, it would…” Julian cast around for something creative. “If you eat food in the underworld, it binds you there.”