by T S Paul
“Please have a seat. Would you like a sandwich?” The man behind the desk was wearing a three-piece suit with wide lapels. He motioned with his left hand and a plate, napkin, fork, knife, and glass appeared in front of me. Another wave of the hand and a sandwich, complete with pickle, floated itself onto my plate.
“I almost forgot,” he said. With another wave of his hand, a bottle of soda appeared and poured itself into the empty glass. “Now we can eat.”
If I hadn’t just recently been amongst Witches up in Maine, I might have needed one of those restrooms outside. This was more magic than most people ever see. I picked up the sandwich that looked way better than a corn dog, and I took a bite.
“Good?” The Witch asked.
I nodded and quickly swallowed. “It is. Good corned beef is so hard to find on the road. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I know why you’re here and the answer is no,” he replied.
“Why no? I haven’t asked for anything yet,” I explained.
The Witch behind the desk laughed. “You don’t need to. I can read it on your face. You want us to help you catch the poltergeists haunting the town. I have to admit, though, you have serious chutzpah. Asking the Park Service if Lincoln haunts the town? Brilliant.”
“Spying on a government Agent could be construed as espionage, you know,” I stated.
The Witch laughed again. “Like your Director Hoover would even dare! He’d make you do it since it is your job to police us. How’s that going for you, Agent Dalton?”
“I’m doing ok, I think. Killed a sea monster,” I replied.
“Congratulations for that. But the answer is still no,” the Witch stated.
I shook my head. “You keep putting words in my mouth. I’m not here for that sort of help.”
“Hmm. Of that I doubt. Ghosts can be hard to catch if you don’t know the trick. If your government is willing to pay, we can work something out,” he replied.
The sandwich I’d just eaten turned to ash in my mouth. This man was actually trying to shake down the United States Government for personal gain! His arrogance was unbelievable. “You seem to know all about me, but I know nothing of you. May I know your name?”
Again, a smile. “You can call me Montgomery.”
“Thank you. My purpose here isn’t to chase ghosts. I’m completely aware that ghosts don’t exist. Only a Spiritualist is able to call a soul forth from the beyond and Witches don’t usually have those sorts of powers,” I replied.
“Aren’t you a busy little bee. Someone’s been speaking out of turn.” All friendliness was gone, and Montgomery was now all business. “What is it you want?”
I explained the occurrences and my thoughts and speculations on them. My exposure to magic in all forms was limited but I read a lot and when I was in Maine I asked questions. Fortunately for me, Marcella Blackmore answered them truthfully. So I had a baseline of what was believable or not for investigative purposes.
Monty rubbed his chin and nodded. “What you are describing fits for adolescents in a Magical community. But these are humans.”
“I’ve never met them, but don’t human Mages exist?” I asked.
Montgomery frowned and looked disgusted. “Half-breeds and genetic thieves is what they are. This council has no control over them.”
“I’m not asking you to at all. These could be signs of someone coming into their power, right?” I asked.
“Or the Fae playing tricks. They get off on that sort of thing. Are we done here?” Montgomery waved his hand and all the plates and food vanished.
“I think so, thanks for your help…” I barely got that out when the lights went off, the door opened behind me, and I felt myself being pulled through it. My interview was over.
Staring at the closed door, I plotted my next actions. Where did human Mages come from and how do I find the one plaguing the town?
“Are you sure, Jack?” Anastasia asked.
“Pretty sure. The Witches Council representative didn’t actually confirm it, but he was pretty quick to kick me out of his office as soon as I mentioned human Mages. There is at least one human Mage here, and they are just now coming into their full power,” I explained to her. The only place in town I could call from, other than the Governor’s secure line, was the police station. I was sitting in the Chief’s office.
“It’s an open secret that Mages were used by the military to stop the Demon invasion,” Anastasia said. “What most don’t know is that they were human. I’m surprised you knew about it. I’ll pass your information along to the OSS and SID. They may or may not send support your way. It really isn’t the FBI’s purview. But you still have to track down those occurrences. Mage or not, this assignment came from the Director. Solve it. We’ll deal with the Mage, or whatever it is, after. Understood?” Anastasia asked.
Knowing more than my boss was a surprise. My father fought in the Demon War in Europe but many of his companions were Weres, and they told me stories of what it was like. Mages played a huge part in ending the war. I needed one more bit of information though, and for that I needed to make one more phone call. This time to Maine. Dialing the number from memory and listening to the click of the rotary dial, I wondered how she had known I would need her, and how many times I’d be doing this. “Hello? This is Agent Jack Dalton of the FBI. I need to speak to Marcella, please.”
There was a knock at the door. I looked up from the now silent phone and sighed. The chief of police must want his office back. Someday in the future I wish for those very imaginative equipment creators at the FBI to make some sort of mobile phone. It would change the way law enforcement does things forever. I doubt I’ll live to see it.
“Come,” I called out.
The door opened and Chief Herring stepped inside. “All finished?”
I smiled at him. “I am. Thanks for the use of your office. Sometimes Washington wants to know every tiny detail the very moment that I know it.”
He snorted. “Isn’t that the truth. You see where this station is? I have to report to both the mayor and the big man across the street. Have you had any progress on tracking down our spook?”
I didn’t miss the man’s pointed look or direct question. Normally the FBI refuses to comment on open investigations. However, I was on my own and didn’t want to alienate the ones who could help me find the Mage. “It’s not a ghost. Everyone I’ve talked to, including the Witches Council representative, has told me it isn’t a spirit.”
“You spoke to that jackass Montgomery?” the Chief asked.
It was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, he is a bit of an ass. He tried to shake me down, but I got the information I needed from him.”
“Well, son, that’s a first for this department. His predecessor was a woman named Raye. Never got a last name. She would at least make a few suggestions and actually helped take down a smuggling ring. This guy though… He hates humans with a passion. It makes me wonder what he did to end up here,” the chief mused.
“I’ve met a few Witches since starting this job. They come in all sizes and temperament. The best advice it to steer clear of them whenever possible. When I was in Maine…” I trailed off. I thought for a moment that the fact I was attacked by dinosaurs in a gigantic garden that has a soul and can think for itself might sound just a bit insane to the man in front of me. I changed course a bit. “There was an entire town of Witches up there. Trust me when I say if you can imagine it, they may have done it.”
“Dalton, you’re a hoot. Seriously, though, son. If it’s not Witches or Ghosts what is it? We’ve got some seriously upset people out there,” Chief Herring said.
Sometimes the truth is the best option, so I went for it. “You have a Mage in town somewhere and he’s just come into his full power.”
“A Mage? Is that some sort of new Paranormal thingy or something?” Herring asked me.
I shook my head. “No, sir. What do you know about how the Demon War here in the US ended?”
The
chief leaned back in his chair with a strange look. For just a moment he looked as though he might not answer, but he stuck his tongue in his cheek. I could see he was deep in thought. “Son, I was a lowly private sitting in a three-quarter ton truck just outside of what used to be Los Angeles in 1949. The Illinois National Guard was called out to watch the perimeter, shoot stragglers, and rescue whatever the Demons left behind. It wasn’t much, let me tell you. The nightmares only stopped a few years ago for me. What does the end of the war have to do with this?”
“The Army used human magic users called Mages to stop the Horde and close the hole. I’ve been told that the trait only pops up in humans occasionally. There might be one in every million people. During the war, our country was able to find and bring together enough to make a difference. What has been happening here has all the signs of a Mage coming into power. They start early. The power leaks through as the child grows. Before they reach puberty, they would have cast several spells by accident. Depending upon their strength and class of Magic, they might not even know it was them who did it,” I explained. “Almost every report centers around places a child or family would go. The fact that there are reports of flying bicycles and trash cans tells me we’re looking for a teen. He or she might have been either in the basketball game or in the building somehow.”
Chief Herring nodded. “Well hell, son! Why didn’t the local FBI guy, Randi, figure that part out?”
Agent Randi might be great at his job, but I knew from experience that the supernatural information we are told to read during training doesn’t stick with us. Something about our brains and disbelief. My being raised partially by Werewolves helped me overcome the block. It might be why the Paranormals were able to hide for so long. “The locals aren’t trained in the same things I am. I’m sure he’s competent in his own job, but most regular FBI know very little of the Paranormal.”
“You people should talk to each other more. We’re all in this one together. So how do we find the Mage?” Chief Herring asked.
“If I was fifteen years old or so and realized I had Magic powers, where would I go? That is how I’m looking at this problem,” I replied.
“So?” Chief Herring motioned.
“The local library, the school library, the Witches Council representative, and who else? Other than Monty, do you have any Paranormals in town?” I asked.
Chief Herring tapped his finger against his lips for a moment. He looked at me and winced. “Sort of? There’s an old lady out on Lake Shore Drive who everyone says is a Witch. I’ve spoken to her a few times, but I wouldn’t know a Witch if she bit me.”
“That’s who we talk to first, then. If public opinion says that she’s a Paranormal, then that is who a kid might talk to rather than Monty across the street,” I answered.
Herring nodded and said, “Come on kid, we’ll take my car. That thing of yours attracts too much attention.”
Within a few minutes we were turning onto highway fifty-five and Henry was telling me all about Lake Springfield and all the unsolved crimes it held.
“...water levels. They got so low we started to see remnants of the old route sixty-six bridge, sunken cars, and odd metallic items. There was actually a car, some cash, a cash register, and weapons found in one spot. That case is still open, by the way. The lady we’re going to see is named Caroline Barnes. As far as I can tell she’s lived here since at least 1914. Most folks around here keep their distance from her,” Chief Herring explained to me.
The area he was taking me was close to where I’d seen the lighthouse as I was driving in. “How will she take this visit?”
“Not well. This whole area next to the highway is one of the Governor’s new proposed projects. He wants to build the state’s first Police Academy. I’ll admit we really need one. I trained half my officers myself. The rest were either former military or went over to Missouri for school. Why he wants this exact spot is beyond me but trust me when I say the old broad isn’t selling.” Chief Herring shook his head and stopped the car. “I’m not at the top of her hit parade so watch your step here, son.”
Getting out of the patrol car I looked around. The area in question was slightly elevated and overlooked the lake and the bridge. A small cottage sat at the top, surrounded by vegetation. The lighthouse I’d seen was out on a point of land jutting out into the lake.
“What’s with the lighthouse?” I asked.
Chief Herring turned away from the house, “Eh?”
“The lighthouse?” I repeated.
The Chief chuckled. “Advertising gimmick for one of the hotels. It’s not really a draw, but tourists stop and take pictures anyway. It has a light and everything. Not something you see every day.”
I gave it another glance and could see the revolving top. Stepping around the car, I joined the chief as we walked up to the cottage.
“Get ready,” Herring commented as he rang the bell.
Caroline Barnes looked nothing like the stereotypical Witch. Of course, Marcella didn’t either. Caroline was trim, fit, blond, and very young looking. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was a local college student.
“Chief of police Henry Herring. Come to force me off my land at the whim of the Governor again?” The Witch commented. There was a slight burr to her voice. My trainers at the academy might say it was Scottish or possibly Welsh. It was hard to tell.
“Now, Miss Barnes, you know his plan is only hypothetical at the moment. I was only told to talk to you about the land. There are other locations being considered,” Chief Herring started to defend himself.
Caroline Barnes bristled. “Those others don’t have the highway, now, do they? They’re just a smokescreen to put me off while you steal my land out from under me. I warned you already, Henry. Try it and you’ll be eating flies for the rest of your life right out there in the lake. You need to ask yourself what happened to those engineers that made that lake. They stole from me as well!”
I glanced over my shoulder at the lake in question. It was manmade.
“Who’s your friend? Another flunky sent by the Governor?” Barnes asked.
“Caroline, this is Jack Dalton of the FBI. He’s here investigating the hauntings around town,” Herring replied.
Caroline Barnes snorted her disbelief. “Good luck with that one. FBI huh, where’d they dig you up at?”
Ignoring her question, I asked my own. “Do you know why the Witches Council representative failed to tell me about your existence here?”
The Witch frowned and her eyes narrowed. “You’re different. Montgomery only got the job here because he’s the biggest kiss-ass around and that’s really saying something in a town full of politicians. He knows better than to cross me. I doubt he has the power to do a damn thing to me.”
“He seemed pretty powerful to me. Made food appear and was able to move things around with a wave,” I replied.
“Just tricks. Every class of Witch can do that. It’s called telekinesis. I will bet you he had the food already prepared and just sent it to you. Trust me when I say he failed teleportation.” She looked at me and then over at Chief Herring. “Why’s he here for real?”
Chief Herring replied, “I told you. The hauntings.”
“Hmm. Why is the FBI so interested in Spirits?” Caroline asked.
“We’re not. I was sent here to stop the poltergeist activity and I’ve discovered that a Mage is responsible,” I explained.
The Witch nodded. She started rubbing her hands together like she was trying to warm them. Maybe a nervous habit. I watched almost enraptured as she began circling her palms together, rubbing them back and forth.
Pulling my eyes away I spoke to her. “If that’s a fireball I’m going to shoot you.”
She looked up from her hands to see my forty-five-caliber pistol aimed at her head.
Chief Herring jumped as if shocked, and looked at me with wide eyes. “Son, be careful with that thing. Caroline here didn’t mean whatever you think she said!”<
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I caught a brief flash of light as she reabsorbed the Magick in her hands. Caroline spread her hands to show they were empty. “See, no threat.”
“I know there’s at least one budding Mage in town. Nothing else matches the description. Their Magic’s been growing for at least ten years now. You and I both know that without training, they could level the town by complete accident,” I replied.
Chief Herring said, “Destroy the town?”
“What’s it going to be Caroline? Chief Herring didn’t mention that I represented the Magical Division of the FBI. I can and will take you in if I have to. Crowley Prison has plenty of empty rooms in it,” I threatened.
“How did you know?” Caroline asked.
“That you were training the Mage? I didn’t. Your reaction gave it all away,” I explained.
She shook her hands in the air. “Not that. The fireball. How did you know?”
“I spent a few days in upper Maine last month. Nice little town named Briarwood. The locals gave me a crash course in what Witches could and could not do. In this job, I pay close attention to all things unknown,” I explained.
Caroline shook her head. “You’re lying. We don’t discuss the craft with human authorities. It’s against the rules.”
My eyes widened at that. “It is? Marcella never told me that.”
“Marcella? Do you mean Marcella Blackmore? That Marcella?” Caroline asked.
I cocked my head to one side and answered her. “Yes, I played ambassador to her coven a month or so ago. Nice lady.”
“Well, that changes everything now, doesn’t it? If Marcella Blackmore spoke freely to you, then I may as well. I’m not surprised that Montgomery gave you the runaround. He’s been a right pain for years,” Caroline said.
“Why would he do that?” I asked.
“Because he can. He and Marcella don’t really see eye to eye. Ever since she resigned as head of the American Witches Council back in ‘18 he’s had his panties in a wad. Never you mind about that wanker. I can answer your questions now. The one you are looking for is indeed a youngster. It’s pretty unusual for humans to come into power. I’ve only know one or two in my life,” Caroline explained.