Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  Plus, finding our missing shipment of anti-magic bullets in the warehouse was a huge bonus.

  The inside was appropriately dark and filled with twinkling lights, skeletons, and other paraphernalia celebrating Dia de Los Muertos. Rumor had it that the burritos were excellent and the beer selection formidable, which had been enough to put it high on her list. Rath trailed a step behind her as Diana entered and offered a “Whoa” of astonishment.

  If the host was surprised to see a three-foot tall purple-haired troll enter the establishment, he didn’t show it. “Your party is in the back.” She took a moment to wonder how he knew, then realized that Rath was probably a good way to identify her.

  Yet another reason to keep him on the periphery of bounty runs when we can.

  Rath slid in beside Cara, and Diana followed. They placed drink orders, and the server bustled away. There was already a mountain of tortilla chips surrounded by several kinds of salsa in the center of the half-circular table, and they dug in. Rath amused himself by building teetering structures out of the chips while the rest chatted.

  Diana grinned at Tony. “So, how’d we do?”

  He finished chewing and took a casual sip to enable his speech. “You timed that when my mouth was full on purpose. Petty, boss. Real petty.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we did well. Most had bounties. A couple were randoms mixed up with them, but they’ll go down, too. We found most of the liquor, although it looks like some was moved before we got there.”

  Cara threw a chip at him. “Or the local PD picked up a few bottles here or there, right, Detective?”

  He grinned. “The spoils of war. And don’t tell me it didn’t happen now and again in the Marshalls, too.” He turned to Diana with a neutral expression. “Even if we consider that such things might have happened, there was still enough missing to suggest it went elsewhere.”

  Rath grumbled, “Maybe to pirate boat.”

  The others laughed, and Cara replied, “Right. How about that outfit? Did anyone notice a schooner or galleon sailing up the Monongahela yesterday? It seems like it would’ve been hard to miss.”

  Diana had to make a difficult admission. “I rather liked the look. Well, the boots, actually. But at least he’s trying.” Her teammates stared at her in a way that suggested they doubted her sanity.

  The troll regarded her with suspicious eyes. “Dibs on the hat.” That set off another round of laughter, which was quickly interrupted by the arrival of their drinks and the need to order food other than chips.

  When the waiter left, Tony resumed his report. “A couple of the extras acquired bounties after the fact, thanks to some clever paperwork wrangling, so we actually picked up more than we expected. In short, we’re golden to expand the labs. Speaking of which, where’s Kayleigh?”

  She sighed. “Living in denial about remaining in Pittsburgh. She’s spending the weekend in DC.” Cara coughed and her boss pointed a finger at her. “Don’t say it. She’s staying.”

  The other woman shook her head as she tried and failed to smother her grin. “Chip. Choking.” Diana scowled, and the ex-Marshall took a hasty sip.

  Tony came to her rescue. “Well, in any case, we’ll need the lab gear, regardless of who uses it, and the cash flow means we can hire both new agents without worry, right?”

  Diana nodded. “Yep, it does. So, the big question is who should we recruit first?” The team had discussed that issue from every possible perspective. In the three weeks since the events at the Cube, they’d worked hard to find information on the Remembrance—and failed more often than they’d succeeded—which shifted the balance toward an undercover expert. But it was impossible to deny that having a demolitions professional on hand might have changed the explosive outcome of that evening.

  Decisions, decisions.

  Naturally, the argument began again. Tony, ever the investigator, immediately answered, “Face. We need the intel.”

  Cara countered, “Demo, because bad guys with explosives suck.”

  “Don’t mess with the demolition man,” Rath added, which really could be read either way.

  Diana had asked Bryant for his opinion, but the smart-aleck simply texted three words.

  You’re the boss.

  She grimaced at the memory.

  Helpful. Chucklehead.

  But the weeks of floundering for information had taken their toll. She didn’t like being in the dark this long. That landed her solidly in the intel-gathering camp. “Tony has a valid point. We need data on both sides of the house, so Face it is.” He cheered, Cara groaned, and Rath continued to stack chips with a small grin.

  Their food arrived, and they spent time debating the values of tacos vs. soft tacos vs. burritos. Diana believed in all three but had requested a carnitas burrito that turned out to be phenomenal. Rath had ordered a quesadilla and seemed to enjoy the stretchy cheese that filled it. His gleeful grin pulled her tired cheeks into a mirrored response.

  He always makes me smile.

  As if reading her mind, the troll gazed up at that moment with a piece of quesadilla held in his teeth. A trail of yellow string connected it to the plate below. That did it for her. She laughed out loud, and the others soon joined in.

  Diana paused as she remembered something. “We need to be on the lookout for a magic tech, too. Kayleigh said that she—and whoever replaces her—would stick to the practical rather than the magical since we have a supply hookup in the Kemana. Ideally, we want one who can play cyber wizard, too.”

  Tony laughed. “I would also like a unicorn, please.”

  She nodded. “Right? But hey, it’s worth a look.” She looked at Rath. “What do you lack, young padawan?”

  The troll put down the bite he was about to take and grinned. “Lightsaber would be good.”

  Diana smiled at the joke.

  “Sleep and pepper poisons are great. Saddle is great. Need knives for training.”

  She nodded again, this time with a frown. “Seriously, why do so many of these jerks have blades?”

  Cara replied as she counted on her fingers. “Easy to get, easy to hide, easy to use.”

  Tony sighed. “All right, let’s get serious. What can we do to keep Kayleigh here?”

  “All I can think of is to get her more stuff.” Diana shrugged. “I’ve told her to hire an assistant, but she doesn’t want to do it since she ‘won’t be staying.’ Honestly, she’s the most stubborn person I know.” She saw their stares and shrugged. “Okay, most stubborn person other than me.”

  More laughter followed. “So, boss, how do we operationalize all this?” Tony asked.

  Diana delayed her response with a few bites while she considered the question. “First, we need to interview the Face. That’s on you two. Figure it out and make it happen. Fly wherever you have to. Then we’ll gear the lab up. I’ll put Kayleigh on it and tell her it should be her dream workspace. That ought to get her moving.”

  She turned to Rath. “You and I will buy practice knives. There’s a martial arts place in the strip district that should have a decent selection.” The troll nodded. Her phone vibrated, and she sighed. “Okay, buddy, we’ll have to do that the day after tomorrow. It seems I have plans starting at sunrise. I’ve been summoned to Stonehaven.”

  Cara asked, “The lady?” They all enjoyed visiting with the elf in charge of the Kemana under the city.

  “Worse. Nylotte. Class is back in session.”

  The other woman actually growled at the woman’s name. “Much worse. She’s…” She struggled to find the words. Finally, she ground out an exaggerated, “Awful.”

  Diana nodded with a grim chuckle.

  Rath sounded approving as he said, “Diana. Fighting Mode. Must Train. Is Good.”

  “Yeah, that. Is good.” In truth, she didn’t completely hate the training sessions. They were a little heavy on the pain at times, but the healing potions always took care of the damage eventually. And the Drow had proven to be a reliable source of information on all things u
ncanny. Still, not getting a magical beatdown every few days would also be nice.

  She looked around the table at the people who trusted her to lead them, as well as the troll who had adopted her. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that they were a family.

  And I can endure anything for however long I have to in order to protect them, even Nylotte.

  Chapter Four

  Diana strode along the now-familiar streets of Kemana Stonehaven. She still traveled the main street whenever possible and gazed with frank longing at the boots, clothes, and blades in the various shops. She hadn’t convinced Kayleigh to join her yet but thought the tech could do wonderful things with the materials they used in the district to create her next pair of spy boot prototypes. The purple crystals on the cavern roof bathed the place in a peculiar and literally unearthly glow that set her mind at ease. The strange construction materials and odd styling were recognizable after all the time she'd spent in the underground city and gave her a strange sense of comfort.

  If I keep visiting, it’ll feel as much like home as Pittsburgh does.

  She took the small path that led to the darker street that ran parallel to the main road and walked briskly to Nylotte’s shop. The other storekeepers had warmed to her presence enough that they no longer slammed the doors of their shops when she was near, but that was the limit of their welcome. Whether it was prejudice against her humanity, a dislike of her connection to the acerbic Drow, or something more, Diana had no idea. She didn’t really care either. There was no room in her brain to worry about anything else. She had reached maximum concern capacity.

  Today, she’d dressed entirely in black, except for her jacket. Her jeans fell over the hidden knives and revolver in her boots, and she wore a wide belt with a vintage Ziggy Stardust buckle over a tucked-in tank top. One of her favorite leather racing jackets finished the look and added a splash of color with a yellow stripe down its left side.

  Nylotte was waiting when Diana came through the door and took the lead as they descended the long staircase to the basement. The stairs made three right-angle turns on the way down. The cellar was fully the size of the shop above and was broken into sections. Two-thirds of the space was devoted to a large training area with metal rings inlaid on the floor to set boundaries for the combat zone. The remaining third was stacked with crated goods and held a workspace where the Drow presumably worked with artifacts and created potions, based on the items for sale upstairs. She’d never explained and Diana hadn’t asked, mainly because of the capacity problem. Her teacher already occupied a not insubstantial portion of her worrying energy.

  The sessions always began with a version of the pushing hands game they had played on the day of her first assessment. Nylotte would call out the magic she was about to use, and Diana would defend herself with the same variety, if possible, or with a different form if she was unable. So far, she’d been electrified, burned, crushed, and had her flesh and spirit scoured by shadows. The Drow seemed in total control at all times and stopped before inspiring true dread of impending demise.

  Most of the time, anyway.

  She hung her leather jacket on a protected hook in the work area and took position across from her teacher in silence. After a moment, she broke their ritual by raising a hand to sketch the Elven rune for question. As an added portion to her training, she had requested to learn the spoken, written, and gestural forms of the language. The skills came slowly, but she felt it was important as a way to connect to her heritage. When she’d told Nylotte this, the woman had only smiled and changed the subject. Now, she nodded to grant her student permission to speak. “Someone tried to blast me with sound a couple of days ago.”

  The dark elf laughed with a joy that seemed out of place. “You’ve met the self-proclaimed prince, then.”

  She frowned. “Yes. How did you know that so quickly?”

  When happy, Nylotte’s face wasn’t very different from her normal visage. Sharp lines, pretty lips, and smooth skin defined her features and obscured her true age. A shock of white hair fell long and full down her back, like the crest of a wave over a dark shore. It was the Drow’s eyes that gave it away, though. A certain sparkle betrayed the mirth within. “It is a rare choice, quite impractical for use on a small scale. If you wish to break off part of a cliff or collapse a cave, sonic magic is an excellent option. It’s not particularly controllable for anything less ambitious.”

  Diana could think of a lot of potential uses but had learned quickly not to argue with her teacher unless it was truly essential. “So why does he use it?”

  The woman laughed again.

  So weird.

  “He would say it’s all about panache.”

  “Panache.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, he’s fond of alliteration.”

  “And presenting a polished pose. And performing punchy prose.”

  “Stop.”

  “If that’s what you positively prefer, protege.”

  Diana groaned and prepared herself for combat.

  This is probably what she’s like when she’s drunk. I hope she doesn’t kill me.

  “I’m ready, teacher.”

  Nylotte nodded and glided into her attacking stance. Her leather pants hugged tightly to her legs, and her high boots still inspired deep envy in her apprentice. She wore an odd top that buttoned left of center from neck to mid-thigh and was adorned with black embroidery on the scarlet fabric. It looked Chinese and added an extra martial edge to her overall appearance.

  The Drow attacked first with force, a battering line that Diana deflected with a shield scarcely larger than her fist. She was prohibited from counterattacking, but her mind cataloged the options and she wondered if there was a way to reflect the energy back at her mentor. Power surged within her, and the blocker shifted from a small curved circle to a larger concave oval. The next blast bounced off it with barely an impact and rebounded.

  Her teacher’s dark eyes widened slightly, and she swept the bolt away with a negligent wave. “Interesting.”

  Diana lost focus in her shock at the unexpected magic. The next force bolt struck her before she could raise a defense, and she cursed as it punched her in the chest. Hastily, she blocked the one that followed with the normal shield. She thought about reflection again, but no power surge materialized, and her construct remained the same. When Nylotte switched to lightning, she tried to summon her own and pictured a defensive oval surrounding her whole body. Despite her attempt, she was soon wreathed in electricity, but not her own. Inevitably, she fell and gritted her teeth to suppress her groans as the Drow’s attack licked and bit at her before it fell away.

  She stumbled quickly to her feet. Day one had taught her that to remain on the ground any longer than absolutely necessary led to a resumption of the assault. Her teacher said, “Fire,” and Diana focused her mind to seek inside for flame. Despite the instinctive visualization of her power as a molten pool, she couldn’t yet draw it forth in that form. When the attack came, she pushed down her panic and summoned a force barrier to protect herself. She extended the wall toward her opponent with an effort of will, a new strategy she’d developed in consultation with Cara. The blazing cone was deflected in all directions but remained within the magical boundary set by the outer circle. The kind of ritual magic that made such a thing possible was as far beyond her as calculus was to a sloth, assuming the creature would wake up long enough to consider it.

  The agent actually felt the slightest edge of pride in her abilities before Nylotte blasted it away. Shadow tentacles squirmed across the floor toward her, and she panicked. Her shield dropped, and she rolled to avoid the fire that still sought her. She spun to her feet, ready to fight, but the other woman had abandoned the attacks. Diana growled. “That was a dirty trick.”

  The Drow laughed. “You started it. That was a good strategy, but it blocked your view of me.”

  The anger evaporated when she realized that A, she was right, and B, that was incredibl
y stupid.

  Why does she always have to be right?

  She swallowed her pride for what seemed like the hundredth time in the weeks they’d trained together. “You’re right. That wasn’t smart.”

  “That is why we practice. However, it is obvious that additional combat instruction is not a good idea today. Your emotions are too close to the edge.”

  Diana sighed. As usual, the other woman's vision pierced to her core. “True.”

  Nylotte gestured at the side of the ring and a pair of oversized red and black cushions spun into place at the center of the circle. She lowered herself to the closer of the two, and her trainee sat on the one opposite, crossing her legs in a less graceful imitation of her teacher.

  The Drow’s voice lacked its usual edge of sarcasm when she spoke this time. “I would like to try something new today. However, it will require great trust on your part. More than you have previously given.”

  Diana tried to moderate her expression and managed to transform the scowl into a slight frown by the time it reached her face. “What did you have in mind?”

  The Dark Elf chuckled, but joy had been replaced by earnest gravity. “That’s an interesting choice of words because your mind is the answer.”

  She suppressed a flinch at the idea. “You’re talking about something more than reading my thoughts if you’re this serious about it.”

  Nylotte nodded. “Yes. I’m asking you to let me into it.”

  “I don’t even understand how that’s possible.”

  “I know, and it's okay.” The other woman chuckled. “I need to lead you to a greater understanding of your magic. But there are things that you cannot be told, only shown, and I am unable to guide you without seeing them for myself. So, as your teacher and one who wishes to help you achieve progress, I am asking you to lower your barriers and let me in.”

  Diana frowned. “You can’t do it yourself?”

  The Drow folded her arms and tapped a nail against her arm. Diana knew that annoyed tap very well. “Yes. I could, but it would damage you, potentially beyond repair.”