Stolen Magic

by May Dawney

  “Oh! Uh…”

  She could hear him typing.

  “Am now. I’ll call you back.” He terminated the call.

  Viktoria blinked and pulled the phone away from her ear. He’d really hung up on her. Brave soul.

  The destruction behind her had ended.

  Gigi scrambled to his feet and swayed. “Y-You’re Inquisitio, aren’t you?” He braced himself against the wall opposite the Society safehouse. The realization had left him pale and his eyes wide.

  “You’ll still get paid, and no, we won’t take you in. You can spend your well-earned money on whatever drink you’d prefer to ease your guilt.” She added a smirk for emphasis.

  He took her in like she was a predator about to pounce, then glanced at the exit of the alleyway.

  “You can run, if you’d like.” She wigged her fingers to remind him of the magic that could pull him back any second. “I won’t pounce.”

  His gaze returned to her. “B-But you’re a mage? And he’s—”

  “The Society is a bitch, Gigi. And hell hath no fury like a mage and an Otherkin scorned. Do you want your money or not?” She raised a brow.

  She could all but see him wrestle with his conscience. He pressed against the wall and licked his lips as he examined the dirty cobblestones. He glanced at her only once, then dropped his gaze again. “Yes.”

  A tiny perverted thrill coursed along her spine at perceiving his slide into moral gray. “Then you won’t mind following along, will you? The money is at the hotel room.”

  He cringed but nodded. “That is okay. It is…550,000 zloty?”

  Technically, it should be 450,000; he hadn’t led them to the pair, but the feeling of power that coursed through her veins now—especially now they were on the cusp of losing sight of the wild mage and Noah—was worth something extra. “Yes, 550,000 zloty.” Just over 120,000 euros. This was going to come out of her personal account, for sure—unless they managed to catch up with the wild mage somehow. “But you are coming to the train station first.”

  The overwhelming scent of sweat hit her before she heard the door crack open. She bit back her gag reflex.

  “Where are we going?” Tempest’s voice was at its lowest registers, filled with barely controlled anger.

  Viktoria stepped clear—and upwind—of the door so he could get out. His shirt stuck to his chest, his hair had matted to his cheeks and neck. He’d lost his fedora and his horn bases stuck through the flattened mess of his hair. “Train station.” She dragged her gaze down his torso. Wood splinters and dust clung to his clothes. “Find your hat.”

  He checked the top of his head, growled, then shook himself out as if he were being pestered by flies. He returned inside.

  Gigi watched the pair of them with the mistrust of an abused animal.

  Viktoria decided he’d get over it. “Tempest, hurry up! I’m tired of waiting.”

  “Did Joyce track them?” He emerged again, still sweating profusely, but he’d found his hat.

  “No.”

  “But we’re still going to the station?” He glanced from her to Gigi.

  “That’s where the international buses leave from as well, right?” She stared at Gigi.

  He nodded. “Y-Yes.”

  Tempest raised a brow. “Why is he acting squirmy?”

  “He put two and two together and it spelled ‘Inquisitio.’” She felt that smirk come up again.

  When her gaze fell on him, Gigi made himself smaller again.

  “Well, good on him then.” Tempest crossed the distance between them in one step and grabbed a hold of his arm.

  Gigi brought his other hand up in front of his face as if Tempest was going to hit him. He scrambled away from the wall when Tempest pulled him fully upright.

  “Stop being squirmy, I’m not in the mood.” Tempest’s voice could cut glass. “We’re taking him with us?”

  “Of course. We might get a glimpse.” Viktoria pushed past the two as she held her breath. “We need to get you into a shower as soon as we can, as well.”

  Tempest ducked his head and inhaled near his armpit. “Hm.”

  That was as close as he was going to get to an agreement, Viktoria knew. “We’ll deal with it later.” She stalked out of the alleyway and scoured the streets for a taxi as she headed toward Grand Central.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  In this work, I have shared with you how witchcraft came to be, which tools to use to weed it and its users out, and I have even shared some of my personal challenges.

  I have given this information to you, because we have a role to fulfill. If nothing else, we have the intellect and power to do what others cannot or do not know how to do. These are blessings we should take advantage of.

  I leave you with these parting words: Witches will be of all times unless we exterminate them like the cockroaches they are.

  So, exterminate them.

  – Rudolf Wagner, ‘A Guide for the Death of Witches’

  “I’VE FOUND THEM!” Joyce’s excited voice came over the speaker.

  Viktoria pulled the phone away from her ear while she fumbled for the volume control buttons. “Where?”

  “Train station, like you said. I found them on security footage, but a bunch of the cameras are out so I lost them in the main hall somewhere.”

  The taxi pulled to a stop and Viktoria threw a bunch of zloty bills into the driver’s lap before she got out. Judging by Gigi’s gasp, she’d overpaid, but she had exactly zero time to waste on foreign currency conversion. “What time.”

  “What ti—uh…three-sixteen, near platform eight.”

  “Thank you.” She hung up on him this time. “Come with me!”

  Tempest pulled Gigi out of the car and held him up.

  Gigi was still a trembling mess, but Viktoria was beginning to suspect that had less to do with the influence her magic had on the human nervous system and more with the distinct lack of alcohol in his bloodstream. His last two beers had been consumed at lunch.

  “Joyce located them?” Tempest helped Gigi along as they walked up to the pastel yellow building that towered over them in the same cubist style that was so prevalent in Kraków’s architecture—half brick, half plaster, all hard angles.

  The inside did not meet the expectations the outside had set; millions must have been poured into modernizing the railway station with its glass domes and futuristic LED lighting. It was also far more massive than she’d given it credit for, as most of it was underground.

  “Where to?” Tempest pressed far too close for comfort.

  “Platform eight. Gigi?” He was staring at a convenience store, not the overhead signs.

  She tracked his gaze to a fridge. “Three-ten through three-sixteen, start scanning.” She walked over to the convenience store fridge, pulled out two tall cans of beer, and dropped another bunch of notes on the counter. She stalked off without a word, cracked one open, and pushed it into Gigi’s hand. She didn’t let go until she was sure he’d gotten his trembling fingers under control enough to hold it.

  He drank with the thirst of the damned, then handed the empty half liter can back.

  She cracked open a second, which he pressed against his chest like a security blanket. “Did you find them?”

  He shook his head. “No, but take me to the platform, yes? It’s there.” He pointed ahead of him and then Viktoria spotted a little sign with a train on it.

  Go figure.

  “Go.”

  Tempest nodded once, then guided Gigi through the crowd.

  Viktoria lagged behind. She wanted the focus to remain squarely on her stinking friend and his drunk side-kick, not on her. That way, she could observe without being noticed.

  Even though she was on the look-out for them, Viktoria knew that Noah and her wild mage charge were gone. It wasn’t magic, or even some unexplainable bond with the woman who’d showed her that there was joy in both her powers and life in general. It was simple logic. There was no way Noah and the Zaleska
girl could have abandoned their safehouse minutes before their arrival without having been warned.

  Somehow, the Society must have gotten a glimpse of her and her hunt for them, and they’d gotten their mages out of the house just in time. It made her blood boil, but that was the game of magic; unfair and stacked against anyone without connection to that world. Another reason to hate mages and their powers.

  She clenched her fists, only all too aware of the energy sparking in her own veins—energy she had been unleashing far too readily lately.

  Noah and the Zaleska girl were gone. They’d boarded whatever train they could, or maybe they’d had a plan and they’d gotten lucky with departure times. They were on their way to London, most likely, and she had to come up with a new plan—preferably one that didn’t include going into the lion’s den to look for them, given how well that had turned out for Anderson.

  “Viktoria, he’s got something.” Tempest’s voice carried over the crowd with ease.

  She shouldered into the bubble of his stench again. “Where?”

  Gigi pointed at the steps up to platform nine; somewhere in their journey, they must have gone underground. “Can you read the departure sign? Where did the train go?”

  “Wroclaw.”

  “Makes sense, onward to Berlin, then Brussels before they cross the Channel?” Tempest shrugged.

  Viktoria pulled her phone out of her pocket and loaded Google Maps again. It made the most sense. Why wouldn’t Noah take her to London? And yet, something nagged at her. It was a long journey and a predictable one at that. If there was one thing Noah was not, it was predictable. She was too smart to be predictable. Noah must know the Inquisitio could intercept her at any station along the way. Would she be naïve enough to think they wouldn’t?

  “Viktoria?” Tempest was staring at her.

  She held up her hand. “Wait.” She pulled the map sideways with her thumb. Berlin, Brussels, London. It was so tempting—such a logical step. Then she pulled Wroclaw back into view. There was another option: down through Prague, then to Munich. From there on, they could beeline to Bruss—

  Her brain screeched to a halt and she used two fingers to enlarge the map over Munich. How long would the journey from Munich to Salzburg be? Did it matter if Noah firmly believed no one knew she was headed there?

  “We’re not going to Berlin, or Brussels, or London.” Her heart pounded in her chest.

  “What? Why not?” Tempest rarely showed his surprise, but the way he blurted out the questions proved that she’d managed to catch him off guard. Hell, she’d caught herself off guard.

  “Because I don’t think that’s where they went.” She started to walk, backwards at first, then she turned on her heel and speed-walked toward the exit. Her stomach jumped. She dialed Joyce’s number.

  He picked up almost right away. “Not secure enough.”

  “I don’t care. Get Reisch to send teams to Berlin and Brussels, and every other stop from Wroclaw to London. They’re on the train heading to Wroclaw now.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to London?”

  Probably because her voice was too high-pitched, and she shouldn’t be grinning, but she was sure now. Noah and she had history. Twenty years was a long time, but not enough time for a person to change entirely. “We’re going to Salzburg, or near Salzburg.”

  “Why the hell are you—”

  “An old friend lives in the mountains there: Schultz.” He’d been her friend as well, but that was a long time ago. “Look up ‘The Fortress,’ if you don’t know about it yet.” She walked into the square and turned around to make sure Tempest was at her heels.

  He was, with Gigi on his arm as the latter tried to keep his beer can upright. Tempest still looked stumped, in as far as his face allowed the expression.

  “‘The Fortress’, right.” He sounded doubtful.

  “That’s not the name Schultz gave it, that’s what we ended up calling it because it is that: a fortress. Schultz is a technomage, he controls technology like we control…” She glanced around her for an example. “I don’t know, breathing; our heartbeat. It’s entirely natural to him. His house is in the middle of nowhere, nothing electrical works unless he wants it to, and he’s done up defenses against magic as well.”

  “Why?”

  Viktoria exited the square and looked around for another taxi. “Because he was always a little paranoid, and when he pissed of Gregorios Senna, he had a reason to be paranoid. Point is: he dropped off the map. We only located him a year or two ago, and Noah—Otieno—and him used to be close. If it were you, what would you do if you had the most powerful mage on the face of the planet in your possession, and access to the most secure place on the planet to hide her in?”

  “You have a point. I’ll file a flight plan to Munich. Let me know when you can be in the air.”

  “Will do.” She watched a taxi pull up and yanked the passenger side door open. “Grand Hotel.” She slammed the door shut and waited anxiously for Tempest and Gigi to get in. Now she had a purpose and a way to get ahead of Noah, her trepidation and worries were gone. She was a hunter, dammit, and a hunter hunted. She could—and would—reach the wild mage well before Noah could take her to Schultz. “Inform the others, Joyce, and keep me updated.” She ended the call.

  “So, Salzburg?” Tempest met her gaze when she turned in her seat. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Then hopefully another team will catch them in Berlin, or even Brussels, but I’m not wrong. I thought it was a disadvantage that Noah was the one protecting the mage, but it’s not. I know exactly what she will do now, and all we have to do is make sure we get to the Fortress before they do.”

  He still looked doubtful, but he inclined his head anyway. “You’re the boss.”

  “Damn right I am.”

  Gigi looked from one to the other. “You’re not taking me, are you?” His voice was small.

  She considered it, but since they already knew where the Fortress was—roughly, anyway—she shook her head. “You get your money and you can walk.”

  He deflated with relief and downed the rest of his beer. “Good.” He crumpled the can. “Because I will need plenty of drinks to forget the two of you even exist.”

  Viktoria chuckled and leaned back in her seat. Kraków sped by as the taxi driver took them to their hotel. They would be in the air soon, and there was no way a train would beat a plane across this large a distance. They would get there on time and then… Then… She faltered again. Then, whatever happened, would happen, and if that meant she’d have to go through Noah to get to the wild mage and secure her position in the Inquisitio, then so be it.

  She clenched her hands into fists and pressed them against her thighs. Her magic sparked, begging to be released—begging to be used and no longer suppressed.

  Viktoria ignored its plea. She’d been foolish to even consider abandoning the Inquisitio. The wild mage was far too valuable to the world to let fall in the hands of the Society, and Viktoria wouldn’t allow herself to be lulled into the Society’s trap again. She was an Inquisitio Bloodborn, and she’d go through any lengths to secure the wild mage and end the plague of magic once and for all.

  Perhaps then, she would finally be rid of her own curse, and the ghost of Noah, as well.

  ###

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