Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  Nic stood, dripped, and tried to shake off the mess. Ineffectually, trying to not spatter everyone, he shook one arm then the other. Globs fell with splats on the stone floor. Most of the excrement seemed to be on his parka, although there was a definite thick splash across both sets of knuckles. Plus some on his face, a wide arc on the right side from temple to chin.

  Tania looked over at Nic and suggested he go scrub it off with snow. Not speaking, and holding his hands up and away from most of the ick, he turned to go.

  “Yo! Cart! Nic needs a hand here!” Tania called out.

  Tania explained to the Wyrms someone else would be in to help. Making room for Cart, Mona backed out of the entryway, keeping close to the edges and moving away from the gaping hole in the floor.

  Cart scooped up a big handful of slushy snow then climbed through.

  “Hey Rock Lady,” he said and bowed to the Wyrm. He lifted his handful of slush toward Nic. “I can’t tell you how much fun this is going to be!”

  Nic did not move.

  Shit! Something had happened and he was frozen in position. Mona moved closer—magic? She didn’t see a spell.

  “Nic?” she said. “Nic!”

  Cart started to reach out to Nic.

  “Stop!” Tania yelled as she scrambled to stand. “Don’t touch him!”

  Tania sent a tendril of magic into Nic, and relaxed only a fraction once it connected. “Imps! I need three imps! Now!” she demanded.

  Three bobbed into existence at Nic’s shoulders. And, oh dear, Mona could almost see the tracing magic following them. They needed to act quickly and get out of here before something was sent through the connection. Something she wasn’t sure they were ready to face.

  “Clean this mess off his face and hands, anywhere it touches his skin,” Tania directed. Tania used her line like a beacon and directed the imps to the worst spots, starting with the crescent on the right side of his face. “Start here.”

  Each place she pointed, the imps came over to quickly touch it then went back to hovering by his shoulder. Nic’s face and hands were blurred by rapidly moving lights.

  While they did that, Tania was doing something to his body to heal it. Mona watched as a laser point of magic burned up bits inside him, in his veins, she thought. Mona had no idea how Tania knew where and what to do until she remembered the Maven had done a full imprint of him at some point.

  His jaw worked first and he spit out any residual from his lips. Then his eyes blinked. He shifted his shoulders and began to lower his arms, causing the residue to start to slide down.

  “Don’t!” everyone cried, including the female Wyrm.

  Nic put his hands back up.

  “Go!” the female Wyrm said. “Take care of your protector. This one and his companion will stay and help me.”

  The Wyrm pointed to Cart and Mona. Cart bowed in response.

  Tania didn’t hesitate. She slid on a glove and grabbed the one wrist that had been cleaned. With a pop and a gust of magic, she jumped them both out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The tracer spell was now starting to glow with a distinctly evil cast Mona knew too well. The runes were simple enough, but with the sigils convoluted by dark maroon markings, she couldn’t change it around.

  Mona looked at it again. Smythe’s memories told her that the darker color she’d been seeing meant someone was reworking the spells. Whoever was creating them had someone helping him make them stronger. This was a kink she’d need to share with the group later.

  She nudged the rune that monitored the build up of magic. Not even a quarter of a turn, but it would buy them a little more time.

  “You, get someone to help us now,” the Wyrm demanded of Cart.

  “About that—”

  Mona didn’t know what Cart had been planning to say, but she needed to get them out of there so she interrupted. “Ma’am, I am the Warder for this area. I will help you. However, with our Maven being busy it may take us a little longer than ‘right now.’ We’d be better off moving you out of here and then seeking someone to help.”

  The Wyrm lying on the ground twitched, his leg jerking with spasms beneath him.

  “You neglect to understand, I need to get us back so I can use our medicines to heal him.” Even through the unusual accent her demand was clear.

  Cart looked at Mona, consternation on his face. “Okay, I can get someone now,” he said, “but it ain’t gonna be pretty. Yo, imp, please tell Titania Margaret thus: Were Trainer Dupree needs Titania Margaret’s help immediately. Dress for outdoor, arctic, work conditions. I’ll owe you one. Thank you.”

  The imps, who’d stayed after Tania had called them, spun around like tops and then disappeared. The tracing spell became clearer, but fortunately didn’t activate yet. Each act of magic seemed to strengthen it. Better make sure they were ready to go when help got there, since that might be the final trigger to set it off.

  “Here,” Mona said as she climbed into the space, determinedly not looking at the shrouds, “let me see what I can do so we can be ready when help arrives.”

  Tania had removed the splinter but Mona could see there was still residue in him. And around both of them. Something was keeping them in this place.

  Mona walked closer to the door. There, embedded in the lintel, were the remains of the spell, bathed in the same color as the rapidly growing tracer spell. Setting aside that observation to share with Cart later, she looked the lintel markings over.

  Simple, neat, and hard to change; however the working was at its most, a basic containment spell and those she did know how to manipulate. Mona could move two of the points and set a new perimeter. So long as she didn’t make the new places too close or even together, this should work.

  “Ma’am—” Mona turned to ask the Wyrm a question and was cut off.

  “You may call me Rushka, Warder.”

  Mona didn’t know if that was a name or a title so she opted to bow her shoulders in acknowledgement.

  “Rushka, a spell has been set around this space to contain you in this area. While I cannot disable this spell without injuring you, I can change the spell so that you and your companion would be considered part of the walls of the room.”

  “Which would make them free to leave this place, since the spell would adjust to the new room size. Nice trick,” Cart said.

  Mona wondered, again, just how much magic Cart could see. Far more than she expected.

  “If I may have your permission?” she asked.

  “No harm would come to us?”

  Mona had to think this over. “I don’t believe so, not from transferring the spell. However, I can’t say long-term what the consequences of being thought of as a wall might be.”

  She waved a claw at this. “I can have the spell changed once home. You may do it.”

  Mona looked over the placement of the five points one more time, given she would need to touch the runes to manipulate them. The easiest perimeter rune was the one by the lintel, but that was also an anchor for the spell—indeed, their passing through the door had triggered the spell. How Mona hadn’t seen it earlier, she had no idea.

  Then there were the ones side by side over the wall they’d come in, and thus the gaping hole. Those would be almost impossible to get to.

  She’d have to go with the two high in the corners over the shrouds. Lucky her.

  Trying to figure out how to get to the corners without disturbing Smythe and his ward, she checked the tracking spell. No changes from the last time. Looked as if so long as they didn’t do any magic, the spell would remain static.

  “Cart, I need to climb up into that corner to get part of the spell I need to move. Any suggestions?”

  “Well, first, I can’t move the bodies, don’t ask me to.”

  Even she knew the ceremonies and rituals enough to know he couldn’t touch them—no one with elf blood could. Even the faintest touch might leave some residual magic that would cause soul to linger, instead of going back to t
he heart of the goddess as it was supposed to. The ritual was very clear. A plot had to be dug—by hand, no magic could be used—to the correct depth. Once dug, only then could an imp be asked to move the bodies. Even though Mona was pretty sure both spirits were gone, she wasn’t about to ask him to do something she wouldn’t do herself.

  Although. . .she stepped close to the edge of the shaft and peered down. If it wasn’t thirty-six feet, it was close. There looked to be a bit of magic at the bottom, but it was hard to tell from this distance. Besides, Tania would have said something, right?

  She turned to find Cart standing besides her with a speculative look in his eye. He’d come over to peer down too.

  “It couldn’t hurt to ask, could it? I can phrase it so if it’s not correct they won’t move them.”

  Cart shrugged.

  Shit, though, there was that tracking spell. She looked at the semi-opaque working hanging like a drift of fog by the entrance. Would calling an imp provide enough energy to trigger it? Probably not, given how much had already been done. With no other way to get the Wyrms out, calling an imp was a risk they’d have to take.

  Mona looked at the Wyrm to see if she had any advice, but Rushka was bent over her companion, stroking his shoulder and whispering something to him.

  “I’d like an imp please, for possible burial of these unnamed Folk.”

  Three imps appeared, startling her. Mona looked over at the working. No change. She looked back at the imps. No additional tracking runes seemed to be on these imps. No time to speculate why.

  “Thank you. Can one of you please verify if the depth of this plot is correct, while another please see if you can verify that it was, indeed dug by hand?”

  They didn’t move but immediately both blurted out, “Yes.”

  Cart narrowed his eyes at the imps and shot her a wary glance. Mona agreed—something seemed off.

  “Will the rites be observed if we were to ask you to place the bodies down there?” he asked.

  All three chimed “yes” but threw off yellow sparks of agitation.

  “Does a reason exist why it would not be in our interests or the interests of the families of the deceased to put them down there?” he asked.

  They started bobbing frantically up and down, as if they were nodding but unable to bring themselves to say yes.

  “Maybe we should ask if a reason exists why it would not be in the imps’ interest to put the deceased down there?” Mona said.

  “YES! YES!” The answer echoed through the space loudly, and they all, even the Wyrm, leaned back in shock.

  “I will not ask you to perform a duty that is hazardous to you. Is there a way to perform the duty without hazard to you?” she asked, with little hope.

  They spun blue, thinking on it.

  “Wyrm help,” one said.

  They both turned to the Wyrm.

  “Do you know how they might want you to help?” Mona asked, knowing the imps were unlikely to give them more information.

  Rushka slowly rose, then shuffled over and peered down the hole. Showing no fear of falling in, she leaned far over, her tail twitching. She tapped the sides of the pit as far down as she could reach. Pebbles skittered and a chunk of earth fell. Sitting back on her legs and tail, she tapped the ground on either side of the pit.

  “The area is unstable. Possibility exists that once the bodies are down, a spell has been sent to make implosion.”

  Mona noticed the imps were bobbing eagerly at this information.

  “The sparklyflies, they know this. I can make stable so long as I am near, but once I leave it will fall.”

  “Does it take a lot of energy?” Cart said, clearly plotting something out. “If we needed you to hold it for, say, an hour, would you be able to do that?”

  How long did he expect his mother to take?

  “A little energy to set the spell and nothing to maintain,” Rushka clarified.

  “What are you planning?” Mona asked.

  “Once the remains are moved you still need to scale the rubble, and I don’t know of a way to stabilize it. Unless you could do that too?” he asked Rushka.

  “The shaft and room will be stable until changed. I can maintain this stability. The pile is inherently unstable, I cannot maintain something that is not.”

  “Thank you for letting us know,” Mona said. She turned to Cart. “If there’s a chance everything will come down, or that we’d disturb the shrouds, I won’t climb it. It isn’t safe for everyone down here.”

  “Right. And we can’t move anyone until you climb it. However,” and he looked uncomfortable, in an I’m-not-sure-how-you’ll-take-this kind of way, “I could shift, if you’re okay with that. Once changed, I’d probably be able to keep my bottom feet on the floor, work my way cautiously up the pile with my front paws, then brace them on the walls. You could then clamber over and up me. Wouldn’t be very comfortable for me, but it might work.”

  Mona looked at the corner—the ceiling was a good ten feet up and the pile of dirt and rocks went up almost to the top, not to mention the spread at the bottom.

  “What do you turn into? A saber-tooth?”

  “Nah, Weres can’t be extinct animals, don’t know why that is. Although I do have an uncle who turns into a Persian tiger, but then they weren’t extinct when he was born. Me, I turn into a Siberian Tiger.”

  Cart would become an animal. A tiger. Something about it was just a tad creepy. She knew he was a Were, a first generation one, which were always strong enough to shift. Why she hadn’t thought it through that she might actually see him change from human to beast, she didn’t know.

  “Will he fit in here?” This from the Wyrm.

  “I think I will, ma’am. If it bothers you, though, I won’t change. I’m sure we could come up with something.”

  “Your help will be here soon, yes? Maybe we should wait for her?” the Wyrm suggested.

  “Well, there is a chance she might be here soon. But she’s her own boss, so I wouldn’t count on it. I think it’d be best to have you ready to go, so when my mother gets here she doesn’t have to do more than get you back.”

  “I have no problem then. Does your mate?” She looked at Mona.

  Mona decided not to correct the assumption. “I’m fine. Ready to have you do your part.”

  “Right,” Cart said. “I think, Rushka, it might be safer to stabilize things before the imps pick up the bodies.”

  “I have already done so.”

  Mona blinked and realized a fine net of power in a color similar to the stone emanated from Rushka.

  “Mona, could you direct the imps?” Cart asked.

  She had called them so it was up to her to do the next part.

  “Imps, could you please lift the Folk and hold them in a place in or near the shaft where you are certain you will not come to harm? Only place them at the bottom if you are sure you will not be harmed by doing so.”

  Between one blink and the next the bodies were moved and the imps were gone and Smythe and his mate were in their final resting place. Later she’d burn incense and pass his praise to the goddess; now she had to get the Wyrms to safety.

  Mona turned to face Cart, who was divesting himself of his knapsack, coat, and utility belt.

  “Next step?”

  “You sure you want to watch?” He shrugged out of his sweater and shirt in one motion.

  His shoulders were already widening, his body adding bulk as it prepared for the shift. He looked like a cartoon version of his usual heavily muscled self.

  “I think I need to.” Partly to convince herself it really was him, partly because she wasn’t really sure what her reaction was going to be.

  Unsnapping his pants, he leaned toward her. His scent and warmth made her want to wrap her arms and legs around him and. . .

  Better not to go there.

  Smiling, as if he knew her reaction, he kissed her nose. “Love you.”

  What?

  He stepped back and green health
y magic swirled around and through him, spinning quickly and making a barrier she couldn’t see through.

  The barrier expanded and the edge reached her. The magic caressed her cheeks, leaving light prickles of magic in its wake, before brushing across her body intimately. Startlingly aroused from the contact, she blinked slowly in an attempt to regain her equilibrium.

  A huge—huge! He had to be ten feet long—tiger stood on a pile of clothes. Black and orange with faint strips of white, he was both the most beautiful and scary thing she’d ever seen.

  He stepped toward her, only to stop. Looking back over his shoulder, he lifted a hind leg and shook it free of the waistband of his pants.

  “Oh!” Mona fought the need to back up, ignoring the part of her that was screaming, “tigers are carnivores” and the top of their food chain.

  Another part was amazed at his closeness and beauty.

  Good thing the latter part won the day.

  Did he understand her when he was a beast? He had to, right?

  “If you get off your clothes I’ll pick them up so they won’t get as cold and dirty.”

  He gave a solid shake of his fur, sending the stripes rippling, and moved over to a pile of rock in the corner. Setting his front paws on it, he quickly scaled to the top, his huge, padded feet not disturbing the pile. He stretched out over it, looking like a cat scratching a tree.

  Mona picked up the clothes and absentmindedly folded them, trying to figure out how to scale his back. Not so easy, knowing that Cart was under there. Not under there, but in there.

  No, that wasn’t right either.

  Unable to wrap her mind around the concept, she set the pants with the rest of his outfit before approaching him. His faintly musky odor was stronger, enticing. If this scent carried over when he changed back she’d have a hard time controlling the urges building up in her. Cart rumbled, and she knew he’d picked up on her body’s reaction to his elemental scent. Damn the man.

  She put one hand on his flank. The fur was thick like velvet but a little bit coarser. She burrowed her hand in, wondering if he had an undercoat. Cart shook his fur. Right, now was not the time to explore this.