Magic Ain't a Game

by P. D. Workman

  “I have cooperated. Now I think it’s time to go. We’re just going to keep going in circles, and I don’t have anything to share with you.”

  “How did you get back to civilization to find your friends? It’s like a labyrinth out there. If you don’t know the swamp, you could wander for days. People do wander for days. And then they die.”

  “And you’d be happier if I had just died? I just kept going. I found a couple of homes, which led me to a larger settlement where I was able to get my hands on a phone. That’s it. Nothing special. I didn’t use my magical guidance system if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You are making light of something very serious.”

  “I don’t know what else to do. What you’re asking is ridiculous. You expect me to just tell you that I happened to kill this goblin because I decided I didn’t like goblins, and I commanded a panther to kill it, and then what, I transported myself out of the Everglades telekinetically. Is that it? Does that cover all of the points?”

  “Quit playing games with me.”

  “I don’t play games,” Reg said coldly. “And I don’t like being accused of something you can’t even back up. You thought you could come out here and get some story out of me because you knew me back when we were kids? Because you bullied me back then and you figured you could bully me into confessing whatever you wanted now? I’m stronger than I was then. So don’t try it.”

  He looked triumphant. “You admit you have powers.”

  Reg vacillated between telling him she was powerful so that he would be afraid and back off, and telling him, as she previously had, that she had practically no powers, in the hopes that he’d give up on her as a suspect and leave her alone.

  “You can’t bully me,” she said instead, not giving him an answer one way or the other. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

  He pointed the pen at her with a sudden jerk, and it appeared to channel electricity toward her like a lightning bolt. Reg nearly fell out of her chair dodging out of the way. She put a psychic shield up in an instant—something that she should have done before—and snatched the pen out of his hand.

  “What did I just say?” she demanded.

  Julian looked at her wordlessly, his body vibrating with anger or the unspent energy he had been channeling. His face was suffused with blood. Even his eyes had turned red, giving him a demonic look. Reg kept the shield up around her.

  “Who do I report you to?”

  “You don’t report me to anyone. I am the one who reports you,” he snapped.

  “You must have a boss. There must be some kind of process for complaints.”

  “You don’t have anything to complain about.”

  “You’re allowed to shoot lightning bolts at me?”

  “It’s your word against mine. Who are they going to believe? The witch who just killed a swamp goblin against magical laws, or the investigator they trained and trust?”

  “They’ll believe me. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve stepped over the line.”

  She read guilt in his features and was satisfied that she was correct on this point. Of course Julian wouldn’t be able to follow all of the rules and would have stepped over the line in his enthusiastic pursuit of justice. That was the kind of guy he was. Some cops joined the force because they wanted to help people and do good, and some wanted the power and authority over others, to be able to beat down the lawbreakers. She knew which camp Julian fell into. And he had never been able to follow all of the rules.

  “We’re done,” she told him. “I hope you’re ready to explain to your superiors exactly what happened. If not, you’d better start thinking up your story.”

  She turned her back on him, being sure to keep her shield in place, and walked out of the room. She heard Julian moving, knew that he was looking for something to use as a weapon against her. She continued to move, presenting him with her back and letting him know that she wasn’t afraid of him. That would be the thing that galled him the most, that he hadn’t even cowed her with his threats.

  She walked quickly down the empty hall where she had once encountered Harrison, but he wasn’t there this time and she didn’t want to call him. She had handled her own problem. She didn’t need anyone else to help her out. Then through the door back into the public face of The Crystal Bowl.

  There were a few more people gathered now. Late breakfasters or early lunchers. A person or two drinking at the bar, maybe drunks or maybe just starting their day with an orange juice or a mimosa. Reg wasn’t hungry after the muffin and the other food she had picked at, but she lingered for a moment, looking around. The restaurant was a warm, safe, familiar place, and she wasn’t quite ready to walk out into the open, unprotected outdoors. Maybe she would stop for a drink—just something small to clear her head and relax her.

  “Reg. Hey.”

  Reg turned her head and saw Davyn approaching. He was dressed for his day job—as an accountant, or whatever he was, he wore dress slacks, a white shirt, and a tie rather than his wizarding robes.

  “Hey.”

  “How are you?” Davyn greeted. “We need to set up an appointment for a training session. I’m sure you’re eager to get back at it.”

  Reg nodded. “Yeah, of course. I don’t have my schedule here…” She was too lazy to put it into her phone and relied solely on the hard copy datebook at the cottage. “But if you give me a call when I’m at home, we’ll figure out what works.”

  Davyn was her mentor, another firecaster. While she hadn’t initially thought much of him as the leader of Corvin’s coven, she had grown to respect him and enjoyed the lessons he taught her about how to use her power. She would have liked to be able to move faster and do more with her fire, but he kept her moving at a slow plod, encouraging her to practice each skill until she was proficient, but only in their time together. He said it was too dangerous for her to practice alone yet; she might end up burning the house down. They were friends now, or something like it, even though she couldn’t imagine herself being friends with him under any other circumstances. He just wasn’t her type. Rule-oriented, careful, always in charge, all the things that drove Reg crazy in a relationship.

  “You’ve been following the rules?” Davyn asked, studying Reg carefully. “Even though we haven’t been able to get together in the last little while, you still need to be sure to follow the rules I’ve given you.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “You haven’t used your fire at all since we last met?”

  Reg tried to remember how long ago it had been. She had definitely used her fire since then, but she hadn’t had any choice. And it hadn’t all been intentional.

  “Uh…”

  He gave her a look. “Reg…?”

  “When we were in the Everglades, I used it for light. You said I could do that when we were going to the mountains.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes. That should be fine. As long as you are careful. Did you light the campfire too?”

  “No, we didn’t have one. Everything was so wet that we didn’t even try. Though I bet I could have lit one, no matter how wet the wood was.”

  “Yes, you probably could,” Davyn agreed. This made Reg feel warm and validated. Like he’d just told her how well she was doing. “And is that all?”

  “Uh… yes… I had trouble, though. I went to the opening ceremonies for the Spring Games.”

  He nodded immediately. “And they had a fireworks display.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We should talk about that, do some exercises. I can give you some pointers on controlling yourself in a situation like that. Were you… okay? I didn’t hear about any incidents.”

  “I was there with Sarah.” Reg wrinkled her nose. “She made me drink until I practically drowned.”

  He chuckled. “Not the most pleasant remedy. But it does work.”

  “Kept me from lighting anything on fire.”

  They both smiled and shook their heads. Reg wondered how many tim
es Davyn had to go through a similar exercise. While he was very strong and well-conditioned, she imagined that when he was a youngster, he might have been put through it at some point.

  Davyn looked over Reg’s shoulder. Turning, she saw that he had spotted Julian, who was coming out of the door she had just used.

  “Who is that?”

  “Oh. Uh…” As Julian drew closer to Reg, then slowed, seeing that she was with someone else, Reg motioned to him, making introductions. “This is Julian Sabat. Julian, this is Davyn Smithy; he’s the leader of the warlock coven here. Or one of them.”

  Julian’s eyes went from Reg to Davyn. He gave a brief nod of greeting

  Reg tried to warn Davyn with her eyes not to say anything about their mentor-mentee relationship. She thought it clearly, trying to push the words into his head. Don’t mention firecasting.

  Davyn gave Reg an uncertain look and she wasn’t sure whether he had gotten the message or not.

  “What brings you to Black Sands?” Davyn asked politely. “Are you here for the Spring Games?”

  Reg broke away from them. The best thing was for her to just leave Julian behind. Davyn would engage him in polite small talk for at least a few minutes, giving Reg the chance to get back to her cottage.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Reg was glad that she had insisted on taking her own car. In a couple of minutes, she was home. It took three tries to get her key to work in the lock. She concentrated on it hard, trying to encourage the lock to just release, and in a few moments, the key turned of its own accord and she was in. Reg stepped in and pushed the door shut behind her. She twisted the deadbolt, something she didn’t usually do during the day. But Sarah would have to deal with it. Reg wasn’t going to leave it unlocked while Julian Sabat was running around free.

  Starlight greeted her with trilling meows and jumped onto the table to nudge the mini terrarium Reg had made the night before. It was lying on its side. Reg picked it up and looked at it. Surprisingly, she could already see the first leaves sprouting up through the dirt. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She had been assisted by a garden gnome, after all. She knew the kind of magic that Forst had performed in Sarah’s garden. In mere days, it had gone from neglected and broken-down to one of the most beautiful gardens Reg had seen. Forst still worked on it regularly. Reg didn’t know how many other gardens in Black Sands Forst worked on. He must earn his living from more than one little plot. But he seemed to be there every day and at random moments through the night.

  Zinnia was a garden gnome and clearly, she had those same powers. She had helped feed the seed just the right soil and given it just the right amount of water to drink. A few words of a spell or whatever other magic Zinnia had performed, and of course it would begin growing immediately.

  Reg meditated for a few minutes, focused on the little leaves of the seedling. It seemed to grow before her eyes. Reg put it back down. There had only been two leaves when she had picked it up, but now there were several. It was growing at a remarkable rate. Maybe even faster than normal gnome magic.

  She turned it around several times and could see white roots against the edges of the cup. Could it have grown that many roots so soon? Shouldn’t the root system reflect the same amount of growth as above the surface?

  She picked the terrarium up and left the cottage, going around the back to the garden. She looked around for Forst. He could sometimes be hard to find, even with his red cap among the greenery. She reached out to him mentally, projecting her words to him.

  Forst? Are you here?

  There was movement to her right, and then she saw him. Forst bowed deeply. I am honored, Reg Rawlins.

  Hi. I brought something for Sarah’s garden. Reg held the little terrarium toward him. I don’t know if it is the type of plant that wants to go in this garden, you’ll have to ask it.

  Forst, of course, knew and talked to his plants all the time. He said that they had feelings, and Reg had no doubt that he could have told her what any of the plants in the garden required for light, water, and nutrients.

  Forst took the small terrarium from her carefully. He gave a crusty smile. Is this one of Zinnia’s?

  Yes, how did you know?

  She was doing them at the equinox celebration.

  Yes. Were you there?

  No. I don’t go… too many people. Loud voices. He shook his head as if pained. Not good for gnomen.

  Zinnia seemed to enjoy it.

  She is much better with humans and outside words.

  Reg nodded.

  Forst looked back down at the little plant. But you did not plant this at the equinox celebration.

  Yes.

  He shook his head, studying the growth. This is six… seven days’ growth.

  No. I just planted it yesterday. You can ask Zinnia.

  He brought it right up to his eyes to look at it. It will need to be transplanted soon. The roots are overgrown.

  I noticed that. I don’t know why they’re growing so much faster than the top.

  Forst sighed. There is much going on in Black Sands. Many magicals… they upset the balance.

  And equinox is supposed to be a time of balance.

  He nodded and gestured to the garden. You see how wild it is right now. Very unruly. I should be planting, but with everything disrupted… it would not be good.

  It looked perfectly fine to Reg. Can you plant this one? Before it gets too big for the terrarium?

  Yes. Of course. I will find out where it wants to be planted.

  Great. Thanks. So… are Fir and Zinnia…?

  He raised bushy gray and white eyebrows at her. Are they…?

  Are they together? In a relationship?

  Oh. We do not… discuss such things.

  Not at all? You and he are twins.

  Still. We do not. If they announce their nuptials… He shrugged. Then we know.

  Gnomes don’t discuss it with anyone if they’re dating? Gnomen, I mean, Reg made the effort to refer to Forst’s race with his own language. If they are seeing each other, they do it without anyone knowing?

  Gnomen be private creatures.

  Yes, I guess so. I shouldn’t ask you about your family, then? I didn’t know whether you are a bachelor, or…

  Forst handed the terrarium to Reg. He took out his curvy pipe and tamped tobacco down into the bowl. He lit it and took a long draw on the smoke, puffing it back out in rings.

  That’s so cool, Reg told him.

  He gave her a smile and a sideways look. Am not a bachelor, he told her.

  Oh. So you have a wife? Any children?

  We have kindern, he agreed. One set. Boy and girl. And our kindern have kindern.

  She remembered that the gnomes always had twins. So you are a grandpa! How many grandchildren do you have? Four?

  His eyes twinkled. Six!

  Six!

  My son. His wife has two sets! Very productive. He chuckled to himself.

  Well. The gnomen race won’t be dying out soon with numbers like that.

  He nodded his agreement. For a few minutes, they just stood there looking at the garden, Forst smoking his pipe and Reg holding the plant. Eventually, Forst was finished. He put the pipe carefully back away and took the plant from her. Thank you. I will find a place for your seedling.

  Reg gave a little bow, sensing that he was ready to get back to his work. Thank you. If you see Zinnia, you can tell her how well it is doing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Reg hoped that Julian would go back to Magical Investigations to report his failure to find anything out from her. They would decide that the investigation wasn’t going anywhere and would let it go cold. Or they would send another investigator out instead, one that Reg didn’t have a personal relationship with and could feel more comfortable with. Someone who would explain to her exactly what was going on and work with her rather than making accusations and threats. Because Reg hadn’t done anything wrong. Protecting herself against a goblin that had targ
eted her could not be against the law.

  Someone tried to open the front door, and then there was a knock. Reg got up from the couch, yawning, and went to see who it was. Starlight trotted over to the door to welcome the new arrival, so Reg had a pretty good idea that it wasn’t anyone to be worried about. Starlight had good instincts about who was safe and who was not.

  Looking through the peephole, she saw it was Sarah. Sarah had the key for the deadbolt, of course, but she probably understood that Reg locking the door was counter to her usual practices and meant she didn’t want anyone walking in on her. Sarah had managed to interrupt a couple of Reg’s sessions in the past, and that wasn’t good business. An interruption could completely derail a reading or seance.

  Reg unlocked the door and let Sarah in. She shut it and relocked it. “I’m not locking you out,” she explained. “I just don’t trust Julian Sabat.”

  “Of course not,” Sarah agreed. She went over to Reg’s datebook to skim through it and added a couple of new notations. “You’re okay for me to add a few appointments, as long as they don’t interfere with the Games?”

  “Sure. I’m not even sure that I’m going to go to many of the Games. I don’t want to run into Julian again. Or more fireworks.”

  “It’s an opportunity you don’t want to miss. Who knows when they will ever be held in town again? They move all over the world. It’s very special to have them held here.”

  “Do you think it is worth it? With the negative stuff that is going on right now? The imbalance?”

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s that bad. I haven’t heard of any negative effects.”

  “Forst was just complaining about the garden and how wild it is when it’s supposed to be balanced and peaceful and ready for seeds right now.”

  “Forst was complaining? The man never says a peep.”

  “Not aloud, maybe. But telepathically.”

  “Yes, I suppose. Well, you know how sensitive gnomes are. They will always have something to complain about with their gardens. You remember how upset he was about the key that he found buried out there.” Sarah made a motion toward the back of the lot and rolled her eyes.