Had she been teleported? No, she would have felt that. There was no such thing as subtle teleportation. This wasn’t a simple illusion that was realistic to the touch. Sorcery seemed like the best bet. It clicked after a few moments. This was how they were able to make a test specifically for her—by designing it and having a sorcerer or sorceress construct it. Clever bastards.
She turned again. It couldn’t be more than one or two sorcerers controlling the area. Any more and the amount of magic in the air would have been easy to detect. Was her objective to find the ones who trapped her there? It seemed more like a job for disenchantment, but she would need to find their totems or anchors, and she could only do that a little at a time. It would take a while, so maybe she should simply start blasting? That seemed basic but effective.
Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud screech—a familiar shriek to her and any number of people in the Balla district. It was a wraith. Her flames traveled from her right hand and up her arm, crossed her shoulders, and completed the journey to the other hand. She had to fight a wraith? That was much more exciting.
She hoped it was a good one. Her best time was three minutes, twenty-seven seconds and she wondered if she could beat that.
Chapter Three
She didn’t have to wait long for the attack. The concrete floors split with a loud crack and glass shattered. Rika turned to where the room was ripped apart by something invisible. A dusk wraith, obviously. They were tricky jerks but susceptible to fire if you brought their cloak down. She pulled the flames on her left hand back and purple light surrounded it in the fire’s place. The wraith moved too quickly for her to direct an accurate shot and she realized she would have to wait for a moment when she could trap it.
Pain seared in her left leg and she fell heavily. A deep wound had been scored across her hamstring. She propped herself up quickly and tried to regain her calm. The creature wasn’t focused on her, for some reason, and seemed to be in a malicious frenzy. An enraged dusk wraith was interesting.
Not what she’d planned for the night, but it worked.
Her teeth gritted, she leaned back and used her good leg to launch out of her position and behind a conveyor belt. She used the wall to prop herself upright and limped deeper into the center of the room, knowing full well her hunter would follow.
The space between the machines was narrow with high ceilings. Once the creature pursued her, she’d only have to concern herself with what was in front or behind her. She wouldn’t have to worry about it flanking her. As she positioned herself with her flames at the ready, the room grew silent.
Rika looked at her original position, which was torn asunder. Some walls were completely shredded and glass and metal shards from the lines and machines littered the ground. The wraith, however, seemed to have vanished. She began to second-guess herself and her gaze darted quickly in search of any evidence of where it might strike.
The wait gave her a moment to check her leg. The wound was bloody but fortunately, less deep than she had feared. While she couldn’t put much weight on it at the moment, trying to outrun or outlast a wraith was a fool’s errand anyway. She moved back with small steps and constantly checked her surroundings. As she passed an old welding station, she realized her mistake. Chains swayed, the motion controlled rather than erratic, and it dawned on her that when the creature had attacked at random, she’d thought it was enraged—a slang term among hunters for any beast or supernatural being that lost its last trace of sanity and worked on pure hatred. But this wasn’t a wraith. It was a construct of a wraith. She had to assume that whoever created it could also control it They would see past her attempt to gain the advantage and try to ambush her through another opening.
She took a few steps forward and her foot bumped a stray piece of metal on the ground. An idea came to her, and she stooped quickly to pick it up before she continued deeper into the chamber. She began to trace the metal with the hand that emitted disenchantment magic.
A sudden and terrible chill provided a telltale sign that the wraith was close. She deliberately let her flames die. For a real wraith, it would pose no problem, but the sorcerer in control of this version would have a hard time seeing her now—unless they had used luminescence magic or a tonic to increase their vision in the dark in which case, this was pointless.
The wraith uttered another cry, although it offered no help in finding its location. The sound echoed throughout the large room. She couldn’t see her adversary but she knew it was there. A loud crack above her made her tilt her head back to look at the ceiling. In the light, she could see enough of a shimmer to know it had launched toward her from above.
There was little time to react and she had to decide whether to dodge the attack or try to counter. A moment’s thought reminded her that with her leg still wounded, she wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough to avoid the attack. Now was probably the best and only time to see if her plan would work. She caught a glimpse of something aimed at her head and leaned away, hoping to avoid a direct strike. The wraith was able to deliver a sharp cut to the side of her eye. The heat of blood trickled down her face as she swung the jagged piece of metal she had traced a rune on and thrust it into the wraith.
Rika stumbled as the construct shrieked and a purple blast hurled them both away. When she looked up, she smiled. A thin, pale creature with dark-gray skin and large hollow eyes now stood before her. It had become visible, and she could see she had pierced through what appeared to be its shoulder. Her satisfaction faded into a frown when she noticed something peculiar—the being glowed. An ethereal monochrome hue shimmered and seemed to constitute its entire being. It swirled like a heavy wind with erratic sparks spewing from its body.
When her forehead stung from the injury, she reactivated her flames and drew a finger along the wound and cauterized it, her teeth gritted against the pain. The creature’s odd aura vanished and she could see it try to slip into its camouflaged state. It shifted between visible and invisible and the rune she had etched was a simple one that wouldn’t last long. As the discomfort subsided, she removed her hand from her head and let her flames consume most of her upper body
She wouldn’t need it to last long.
The wraith lashed out and attacked what it thought was wounded prey. Rika held her arms up quickly and released a blast of flame, controlling the fire to encircle the specter. A thick black liquid gushed down its body and spilled onto the floor as the blaze burned its flesh. It began to thrash in an effort to escape the conflagration that now caged it. Although it was faceless, Rika could discern the confusion, pain, and fear the creature manifested through its gurgled cries. She began to wonder if the controller’s feelings came through, although she enjoyed the thought that she could make a ghastly thing such as this feel fear.
After a few moments, she began to compress the flames and forced them closer together to further ensnare the creature. She formed them into a large sphere with the wraith trapped inside and raised it above her with a clenched fist. With a smile of satisfaction, she opened her hand and mouthed, “Pop,” as the orb exploded and the nuisance disintegrated.
The flames scattered and filtered down to set things ablaze around her. They were her flames, though, so with a flick of the wrist, she extinguished them. She sighed as she walked to a table and leaned against it as she rubbed her wounded leg.
That definitely wasn’t her best time. She didn’t have a watch on her but if she had to guess, it was probably closer to six or seven minutes. It was almost enough to make her embarrassed.
“Well done, Ms. Albright,” a soothing voice congratulated her. She straightened hastily when her flames reignited and focused on a female figure in a white robe who stood a few yards away. Most of her features were hidden under the robe and hood, but the woman shared the pale skin and irisless silver eyes as the operative she had met earlier.
Rika sighed and let her flames die out once more. “I could have immolated you for startling me like that.”
<
br /> “I’m sure your grasp of fire magic is rather exceptional,” the woman conceded.
“Thanks, I guess.” She looked at her. “Sorceress, right? Is this place your doing?”
“Indeed. I’m sorry for the poor conditions. We had little time in which to work.”
“Yeah, your buddy filled me in,” she stated and continued to rub her leg.
“Allow me.” The sorceress extended a hand and the wound healed in seconds. Even the tear in the leg of her jeans repaired itself.
“Wow, thanks,” she said and checked the leg. She was able to move as if the injury had never happened.
“My pleasure. If you wish to join the hunt, you should be at your best.”
Rika ran a hand through her hair. “The hunt? Oh, right. Does that mean I pass?”
“Indeed. Well done,” the woman confirmed. “I tried to let the wraith act as it normally would but took control for a brief time to change things up. I thought that simply allowing it to act as normal would not be a suitable challenge for one such as yourself.”
“I assumed as much,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad it was satisfactory,” the sorceress replied with a nod of her head. “I have been informed by my partner that your dealer has finished the discussions. You will be paid four hundred and fifty thousand dollars upon completion of the mission.”
Her jaw almost dropped. “That much? What monster are we hunting?”
“You will find out more once you arrive.” She slipped her hand into her robes and produced a small orb. “If you would like to join the meeting, let us proceed.”
“Oh, good, teleportation,” Rika muttered as she inched closer to the orb. “It’s not too far, is it?”
“No. It is in the area but that is all I am at liberty to say,” her companion explained and extended her hand decisively.
“Right. Well, small distances are fine, usually.” She raised her hand but hesitated for a moment. “Is Manny going to be all right?”
“Yes, my partner will take him to the city now. From here on, we need only the hunters.”
She drew a deep breath. “That sounds foreboding.” She grasped the small orb and vanished, and the sorceress let her construction fall away around her. No trace remained that either of them had been there.
Chapter Four
Rika’s mind spun alarmingly and she shuffled forward and knocked her head against something hard.
“You all right there, girlie?” a gruff but amused voice asked. A large hand grasped her shoulder to steady her.
Her vision returned marginally and she grimaced. God, she hated teleportation. “Ugh, who’s asking?” She looked at a blurry face. Even with her currently inhibited sight, she could make out a massive black beard and what appeared to be a red and black bandana.
“My name is Nemo,” he announced, patted her on the back, and pushed her forward. “A hunter who passed these shifty ghoul-looking guys’ test. Welcome to the meeting.”
She shook her head and stood carefully as her vision finally cleared and she focused on the giant smile on the man’s face. He was dressed from head to toe in black, the only color being the red on his bandanna and the white stitching on his leather jacket. “Ah, good, I made it. If I had to make another jump, I think I would have—"
“Here, try this.” Rika looked aside and a tall tanned man in a brown jacket with two thick braids offered her a small satchel. “Medicine for the sickness.”
“This is Chatan. He’s a shaman,” Nemo stated and clapped him on the shoulder. “His medicine is better than anything you can get off the shelf. I worked with him in the past, but I didn’t think he was going to show up here.”
Rika took the bag with a small smile. “Thank you.”
Chatan nodded to her and turned to the other man as he folded his arms. “Warnings and ill omens have come to me over the last week,” he stated. “I felt the need to investigate, and one of this organization’s operatives requested my aid last night.”
“Were the spirits talking to you again?” Nemo asked and earned a sigh in response.
“I’ve explained before that it doesn’t work that way. But for the sake of discussion, I believe it may the best use of my time and energy to figure out what is going on.”
“My bones have trembled too.” Nemo fumbled under his jacket to remove a necklace adorned by small bones. “I couldn’t pin it down. It pointed in different directions every time I tried to see what was going on.”
“You’re a necromancer?” Rika asked.
He raised a hand and tilted it from side to side. “Kinda. It’s my discipline, but I’ve added my own twists to it.” He pointed at his back and she noticed the butt of a shotgun. “What about you?”
“From what I can feel, I believe she is a cabalist,” Chatan stated as he studied her.
“Uh…well, kind of. I don’t focus on a particular discipline. Honestly, I wasn’t good at school.” She held her hands up and flames erupted in one and the purple hues of her disenchantment magic in the other. “I work with fire and disenchantment magic, and the latter is probably why you ‘feel’ I’m a cabalist.”
“So you like to mix and match, eh? I dig it.” Nemo laughed and jerked a thumb in the direction of the doorway. “I think you might be the last to get here. Those operatives keep saying we’re about to begin but they keep stalling, saying that five more are coming, three more, yada yada.”
“It is cramped in here,” she agreed and noticed for the first time how small the room was with her and the two large men inside. “Are you sure no one else is coming?”
Chatan pointed behind her. She turned toward an orb similar to the marble the sorceress had given her but much larger. A small amount of light swirled in it, which faded quickly. “They are closing the channel. No other hunters should be coming now.”
“So I guess that answers that question,” she said and took a few steps forward as she deactivated her magics. The other two hunters followed. “How many do you think are here?”
“With you? Sixteen in total,” Nemo answered as he arranged his necklace under his jacket again. “A few of those operatives are running about, but they seem to stay out of everyone’s way unless you’re looking for ʼem. Then they appear out of nowhere.”
“I have not been surprised by their appearance,” Chatan commented.
The other man waved him off. “That’s because the spirits tell you when they’re sneaking up.”
The shaman sighed and pressed his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose. “For a man who works with the dead, you are almost infuriatingly ignorant about how spirits work.”
“In my defense, I work with bodies and their parts, not the aftermath,” he countered.
“So, did you guys just get here as well?” Rika asked and grimaced at the starkness of the long hallway they now walked down. “Or are you the assigned welcoming committee?”
“Not assigned. Chatan and I were catching up, and we decided to wait near the anchor so we would know when things would begin,” Nemo explained. “Most of these guys have been here a couple of days. Some seem all right, but most are cliquey as hell.”
“It doesn’t bode well if this is to be a team mission,” the other man noted and shook his head. “We’re here.”
The hall led to a large room that was also rather plain, except for a few metal pillars and rails above. She took stock of the group of hunters and noticed a woman in a flowing dress with an eye painted on her forehead—probably some kind of seer. Her curious gaze shifted to another woman with short blonde hair who wore a white jacket. From the lining and stitchwork, she could tell armor was built into the garment, and with the sword sheathed on her side, she was probably a paladin or cleric. They liked their “purity” look.
A thin man—more like a boy—with spiked hair with dyed teal streaks in it showed off his lightning magic to twin swordsmen. A man in a long dark coat with no sleeves watched as a woman in long robes—a monk a
t first guess—sparred with a massive long-haired man who glowed with bright red energy that even filled his eyes and left no doubt that he was a berserker.
Several others were gathered, some reading while a few joined the demonstrations. A few took notice of the new arrivals and offered a wave or nod. The majority merely returned to their talks or studies.
“So, do we shoot the breeze until the employer turns up?” Rika asked and folded her arms as she continued to survey the crowd. She noted a group of operatives in a darkened corner on the other side of the room.
“It’s what we’ve been doing. Some have walked already because it’s taken so long,” Nemo stated.
“I don’t think it will be much longer,” Chatan said and gestured to the operatives. “They are coming forward.”
On cue, the five figures in the corner moved forward and drew the attention of everyone in the room. They stopped what they were doing and turned to observe as the team stood in a line in front of the room. The three men and two women looked the same with pale hair and were dressed in the same type of dark suit as the one who had picked Rika up. They also wore the shades that were obviously standard. The one in the center took a marble from his coat pocket and walked a few steps forward before he dropped, straightened, and joined his comrades in the line once again.
A couple chuckled at the odd display. Others simply observed the orb to see what came out. Rika watched it begin to glow and Nemo stroked his beard again.
“Are you getting anything, Cha?” he whispered to the shaman.
“Nothing unusual. You?” he asked.
He felt along his chest. “The bones are fine. I guess they are bringing in one of the head honchos to finally get this thing going.”
The marble glowed brighter and a few of those closest to it shielded their eyes. In an instant, it vanished and was replaced by a creature.
Magic Hunters: The Operatives Page 2