by TR Cameron
She swapped the damp mop for a dry one and ran it carefully over the mat. Her bare feet squished as they gripped the surface, instinctively seeking solid footing on the yielding canvas. An image of her parents as they’d been while alive and well swam into her mind without provocation. She didn’t realize that tears welled in her eyes until one fell on the mat, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. God, I miss you guys. I hope all those people who say we’ll meet again are right.
Cali moved to the lobby and looked through the windows. The weather was a little overcast, which fit her thoughtful mood well. Her teacher’s desk was clear, as always, and she dug in the cupboard at the base of a large display cabinet for the polish and wax. She sprayed it and the lemon scent wafted up and made her sneeze, then laughed at her own joke as she muttered, “Wax on, wax off.” Her brain turned from questions to plans.
I need to find a third for the next battle, and I need to find the 1601 place. Everything else is in holding until other people do things. She didn’t like the situation but was also keenly aware that she had too much on her plate to handle alone. Even though she’d asked Zeb to join her mostly as a joke, she wouldn’t have turned him down if he’d unexpectedly accepted. Tanyith was her main prospect, however. She knew he’d be willing to do it since he’d made it clear he would have joined her for the two-on-two. I wonder where this ends? Hundreds against hundreds? She realized she’d missed her chance to check that while at the library and sighed. There is too much stuff going on, for sure.
With the desk shining, she turned her attention to the shelves of the display cabinet. She cleaned the little rectangular and square sections one by one, emptied them, polished them, then ran a different cloth over the pictures or trophies or paraphernalia that lived inside before she returned everything to its place. Every so often, she’d discover that something had changed and she hadn’t noticed it, and that was the case this morning. A picture that had formerly been of Ikehara alone on a mountain hike of some kind now showed him in a similar endeavor but with two children at his sides. The sight made her smile. She knew about his family from putting together small pieces of information gathered at random, but most people probably didn’t. They looked happy and so did he. She returned it to its place and moved on to the next.
Vacuuming drowned out her mental voice and for a time, only the work existed, almost a Zen experience of no-mindedness. She finished with the bathrooms and changing rooms, and four hours or so after she’d arrived, she was finally ready to head out and get on with her day. The sense of satisfaction she always felt after working at the dojo carried her happily down the street for a block, and one of the poppy playlists Dasante had created for her beat in her earbuds and put a bounce in her step.
The good vibes came to an abrupt end as the magical radar she’d sent out with no results for weeks suddenly pinged a warning. Cali forced herself not to change her movements and to bop along in time to the music, but her senses focused as she tried to identify what had tripped her internal alarm system. She had a sense of distance and of hostile intention but not dire threat, although she couldn’t be sure whether those intuitions were accurate. The talent was new, lightly trained, and difficult to interpret. It’s off to the right, whatever it is. She added a head twist to her walking dance and looked in both directions. It took another thirty seconds before she saw what had triggered her danger sense.
The woman moved like an athlete and the running shorts and loose t-shirt she wore emphasized that image. Long, darkish hair was bound in a ponytail and a phone was strapped to her bicep. She jogged slowly, at about the same pace as Cali’s fast walk, which was doubtless one of the indicators that had attracted her notice. A black strap was visible around her waist, probably for a small bag.
Now that she’d identified the potential threat, she kept moving. The person was a block away and she’d have sufficient time to react if that changed. She pushed more power into her magical sense and tried to both make it more focused on the areas closest to her and also push the boundaries out further. It required her to segment her mind and dedicate a part to each task, which was difficult to do without changing her behavior. Her ongoing practice in mental magic paid off, though, and she detected the hint of a threat from her left, more or less where she’d expected it might be. None of our enemies so far have been foolish enough to come alone. I can’t see why that would change.
The man on the opposite side looked like a business type in a blue Oxford shirt with the collar undone and khaki pants. Like the woman, he kept pace with her and studiously didn’t look at her. Okay, there are two, at least. I think I can safely assume they are probably not Atlanteans since they don’t wear the uniform and that gang is supposed to leave me alone. She turned right at the next block to test them.
Sure enough, after she took another left to head in the proper direction, they were in place again after a couple of blocks. While it would be fairly easy to escape, she was curious about who they were and what they were up to, so she decided to turn the tables. But let’s not be stupid about it. She pictured her scaly life-partner in her mind and sent a thought to him. Practice had allowed her to keep the connection open once she’d initiated it, and although he couldn’t send worded messages, the wash of approval she received was a clear answer. She calculated it would take him five minutes or so to be in the air over her position and began to look for a place to make her play.
The sight of the St Louis Cathedral spires over the rooftops ahead felt like fate. It was Sunday, so it would be open for services. If she recalled the times correctly, she’d arrive shortly after the last one. The church would remain accessible for the entire day, though, so she’d be able to duck inside with ease. Cali sent a mental message explaining the plan to Fyre and again received approval in return. She wasn’t sure if he would get inside before her or simply wait as backup, but either option worked for her. If she had to choose, the sight of him in the sanctuary would be something definitely worth seeing.
She approached the beautiful cathedral from behind and once again truly bopped along to the music in her ears, confident in what was about to play out. After a left turn into the square, she strode up the stairs of the church, stepped inside, and quick-walked forward down the center aisle. It was a grand space with an arched ceiling high above decorated with gorgeous murals and filigree. The majority of the surfaces were white but every other color could be found in the paintings and ornamentation. The altar at the far end shined with gold. The floor was made of black and white marble squares set in diamond shapes, and dark wooden pews ran on her left and right down the length of the immense space.
Halfway down, she stopped and slid into an unoccupied row, ducked down momentarily, and cast a simple veil to hide herself before she straightened. Since her magic had been fully released, her ability to become invisible when motionless had improved dramatically. She still wasn’t totally skilled at moving in secret, but Emalia assured her it would come with time. And practice, of course. Always with practice.
Another whispered spell created an illusion of her seated several rows ahead, again not near anyone else. She turned her head slowly toward the rear of the sanctuary. Now to wait for developments to, uh…develop. The delay wasn’t long. The man entered first, moved nonchalantly down the center aisle, and seemed immune to the grandeur around him. He looked ordinary, seemed to fit in with the others in the sparse crowd, and his lips twitched slightly as he noticed the back of her illusion’s head. He moved to his left, sat in a pew, and adopted a position with his gaze lowered that was doubtless supposed to look like prayer.
Cali had almost convinced herself to blast him with a force bolt when she realized that her anger level had risen while she stared at him. Only the arrival of an old woman who made her way carefully down the center aisle jarred her from the internal discussion she hadn’t even known she’d had. What the hell? She shook her head. Focus, Cali.
Behind the older woman came the younger one who’d fo
llowed her. She stopped near the back and took a seat on the same side of the church as her. Cali’s eyes narrowed as the implications banged around her brain. They must be communicating somehow. I guess it’s possible I didn’t hear him and they’re using radios. Or they could be magicals. Is there another magical group in town getting ready to cause trouble? If so, why are they looking at me? The former proposition seemed much more likely than the latter, but she couldn’t be sure. She needed more information. Fortunately, that was part of the plan.
She sent a telepathic message to Fyre. Distraction, please. A few moments later, a loud bang emanated from the rear of the sanctuary that sounded like one of the entry doors slammed shut. It was followed an instant later by the same sound again. Everyone twisted toward the noise except her, and she vanished the illusory version of herself. When the man turned again, his alarm was clear as he suddenly stood and moved toward the front of the cathedral, looking in every direction to see where she’d disappeared to.
Very slowly, she turned her invisible head so it would stay unseen and saw the woman exit the building, followed moments later by her cohort. When they had both gone, she rose and walked out behind them at a safe distance. There was no risk of losing them with the veiled Draksa on the case. She could always sense his presence with minimal effort and easily followed Fyre while he followed the woman. Occasionally, she caught sight of her in the distance. Her gaze was on them when the man joined her and they had an intense discussion that involved arm waving and voices almost loud enough to hear before they turned to walk together toward the edge of the Quarter.
Cali continued to trail them, but when they got into a car, her part of the surveillance was over. She told Fyre to stay on the duo and found a secluded place to portal from. Her head was in her books when he returned an hour later, flew through the window she’d left open for that purpose, and landed gracefully in the open space near the front door. She greeted him with a grin. “Hey, it’s about time you got back.”
He snorted and shook his head. “It’s lucky you have someone with actual skills in surveillance to rely on.”
She shrugged. “We can’t all be invisible birds, you know.” The provocation drew the growl she wanted, and she laughed. “I’m kidding. You’re amazing and I am lucky to know you. So, what did you find out?”
He lowered himself to a seated position and raised his head but didn’t speak.
“Okay, I’m sorry I called you a bird.” She sighed. “Are you happy now?”
“Hardly, but it will do for the moment. Your two admirers went to a restaurant. They were only inside for a few minutes, but I hung around for a while longer to see what would happen. One of the men who were with the Zatora leader came out a while later.”
“That fits. It makes sense they’d keep an eye on me, I guess. Why not? Apparently, everyone else does. But at least it’s not a new magical gang in town. That would suck. We have more than enough problems with the one we already have.” She checked her watch and stood with a groan. “Okay. Nap, shower, then work. Our window for investigation today is at an end. But let’s think about how we can quit being the watched and become the watchers.” It’s time to flip the script on these jerks.
Chapter Eighteen
It was never really much of a surprise when Detective Kendra Barton arrived at the Drunken Dragons Tavern. Whether she was there to chat with Zeb—who appeared to have become her go-between with the magical community—with Tanyith, who she clearly had the hots for, or simply to harass her, she seemed to appear fairly regularly. For her to arrive so close to closing, though, wasn’t normal at all. Unless she hoped Tay would be here for a booty call or something. Ew. She was in the same coat she’d worn the first time Cali had seen her—the shiny brown number—which meant she’d probably come from work. The light professional makeup increased that probability.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as the woman took the seat at the very end of the bar farthest from the door. That was notable because people normally chose the same places and she couldn’t recall the detective selecting that one before. Of course, it was possible she had done it on one of her few nights off, but it still struck her as weird.
Also weird was the way she leaned forward to talk to Zeb. Cali had become a fairly good interpreter of body language, and hers definitely showed at least nervousness or agitation, maybe more. She angled toward the conversation, deposited empties beside the representative from the NOPD, and shouted drink orders at her boss before she turned to the other woman with a smirk. “Don’t let me interrupt your leisure with my working, Detective.”
She received a thin smile in response but nothing more. That’s also notable and also alarming. Barton allowing a chance to insult her to pass without taking advantage of it was virtually unprecedented. Maybe it had happened at the docks, but otherwise, she was always ready with one thing or another.
Zeb interjected, “Here are your drinks. Go, and take final orders. We’ll close on time tonight.” He, too, seemed less happy than usual. What the hell is going on here? She circulated through the crowd and reminded them the clock was ticking. Her next hour was a haze of work and convincing people it was time to go, which culminated in her having to physically push the last patrons out the door. She didn’t generally mind since it was all part of the game, but she was thankful it wasn’t a Kilomea today. The giant beings saw everything physical as a contest, and it was a true chore getting them to leave. Finally, though, the room was empty except for the three of them and Fyre, who dozed in his usual place.
Cali took the seat next to the detective with a sigh. “What, she doesn’t have to follow the rules? Seriously, Zeb, I’m starting to doubt your judgment.”
He shook his head, an obvious refusal to engage in the banter. What is with people today? “You’ll feel differently when you hear what she has to say.” Well, that doesn’t sound good.
She turned to Barton. “Let’s have it.”
The detective skipped that opportunity for a sarcastic comeback too. “There’s been disturbing chatter from informants we have around the Atlanteans.”
“How is that different than usual? Those idiots always cause trouble.”
The woman shook her head and her short black hair flipped into her face. She summoned an annoyed look. “Yeah, this is something else. If you’ll shut up for a minute, I can explain.”
That’s more like it. She grinned. “Please avail me of your knowledge, oh wise one.”
With an exasperated sigh, the detective finished the amber liquid in the pint glass before her and handed it to Zeb. He pulled a draft handle, a low ABV Oktoberfest that was still hanging around, and returned it to her. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’ve always had people watching the Atlantean gang, cultivating contacts inside it, that kind of thing. Since we’re a multi-bureau initiative, we also have access to the feds’ info too, although it constantly comes down the chain late and highly sanitized.” She laughed. “They have trust issues.”
Cali echoed her amusement. “Don’t we all.” Zeb nodded from his position on a high stool behind the bar. His arms were folded and his eyes were intense, both deviations from his normal affable bartender pose.
Barton continued. “Anyway, we’ve received really strange information from them. We anticipated hearing a considerable amount about the drugs they’ve pushed, but it seems they’re much more committed to them than expected. Basically, the gang has rolled back all the other stuff they were doing to blanket the streets with their new product. It has the narcotics folks concerned.”
She frowned. “It doesn’t sound like them. They’ve always been kind of diversified, right? Tanyith gave me that impression, anyway.”
The detective nodded. “Exactly. The Atlanteans have been slow and steady all along, expanding their sphere of influence without upsetting any apple carts. And now, they’re pushing hard.”
“So, what caused the change?” Zeb asked. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No. That’s the pr
oblem. There’s absolutely nothing to indicate that such a dramatic transformation should have happened. They have the same leadership, no internal struggles that we’ve heard about, and the Zatoras haven’t done anything we know of to provoke a response. They did attack some dealers and leave some bodies, but that’s not too far out of the ordinary. Unfortunately.”
Cali wracked her brain but came up empty. “I have nothing. The last…uh, incident seemed to be normal.” She wasn’t sure how much detail to give the other woman about her ongoing conflict with the Atlanteans despite having called her for help during the first battle. It was hard to know where one stood with Detective Kendra Barton. “And I haven’t heard or seen anything since.” She hadn’t mentioned the watchers from earlier in the day to anyone and didn’t think it had any relevance to the discussion.
“Yeah. And that’s the word all over. They’ve made this big change and there’s no information coming out. But the folks we’re interfaced with say it could very well be a prelude to something major.”
She stiffened in her chair. “Like what?”
The woman raised her hands, palms up, then lowered them. “Who the hell knows? My money is on a move against the Zatoras, but it doesn’t seem like they’re fully ready for that. Unless the Atlanteans had a sudden influx of people we’re unaware of, the humans still have more boots on the ground in the city.”
“But they did try the operation at the docks. It had to be aimed at the other gang, true?”
Barton nodded. “Yeah, there’s that. But still, it simply doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something else happening here.”
“So what’s your plan?” Zeb asked.
After a long, slow sip, the detective put the glass down gently as if she had to resist the urge to shatter on the top of the bar. “Honestly, I don’t have one, which is why I’m here. I hoped that either of you or your buddy Shale might have something to add to the evidence.” Her use of Tanyith’s last name was a game at this point, an echo of the initial distrust that had clearly faded over time.