by Ramsey Isler
“Don’t worry,” I said. “If I do, I’ll just bring you back.”
Newton paused, looked at me with wide eyes, and said, “You can do that?”
* * *
Once Newton was ready and we both double-checked our gear, we went downstairs and outside. The chilly night air sent a shiver through me. At least, I hoped it was just the air, and not something else. I dipped into the Rift just a little bit. There wasn’t anything strange going on, by Rift standards.
“Keep in radio contact,” Newton said. “The camera in your hat also has a microphone that will pick up everything you say, and it’s sensitive so you can just mutter to yourself and I’ll hear you. Remember that I’ll be monitoring audio, video, and sensor readings. At the first sign of trouble, I’m calling in the cavalry.”
“Sure thing,” I said. I didn’t tell him that the “cavalry” was most likely going to be very ineffective against experienced nightcrafters, and that I had no intention of getting any other NATO people involved with this. I didn’t want anybody’s death on my hands.
Newton gave me a nod and I knew it was all up to me now. I pulled up my collar and walked at a brisk pace. This town was pretty normal at sunset. It was a Saturday so there was no commuter traffic and the streets and sidewalks were occupied by casual people trying to make the most of a weekend. There weren’t many tourists, from what I could tell. Locals act differently than visitors. Tourists don’t walk with practiced certainty, and they look at signs and landmarks a lot. But these people all looked like locals heading to familiar places and doing familiar things. I did my best to act the same way.
The people here were happy and in no particular rush. It was a lot different than New York City. It was nice, actually. Pretending to be a resident of this cozy little town was fun.
Then I felt the presence of another nightcrafter.
It was a jolting feeling. Hard to describe, but almost like floating in a tranquil sea and then being hit by a crashing wave that came out of nowhere. Honestly, I’d been hoping that I wouldn’t find anybody on this trip. Now I’d actually have to do some work.
“Got a hit,” I said, quietly.
“Where?” Newton said.
“Not sure yet. I’m going to feel him out.”
“Sensors aren’t picking up anything,” Newton said.
“Not surprising,” I said. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
I walked in the direction of the waves of Rift power coming at me. I held back from casting any magic myself and just passively let the signs come to me. I strolled around somewhat aimlessly, just letting instinct and intuition guide me. Newton followed me dutifully, but not so close as to make it obvious that he was on my tail. This went on for fifteen minutes before I found my prey standing outside a short brick building.
He was a wide man with freckles and bulging biceps that could be seen even through his sweater. He had a smarmy face, a cobra tattoo on his neck, and he was making big waves in the Rift. It was like he was the center of a swirling whirlpool drawing everything towards him whether it wanted to come along or not. He was talking to a slender young woman who appeared completely oblivious to the spell he was working on her.
“That guy,” I said. “The redhead talking to the brunette.”
“Him?” Newton said. “Really? He looks like a bartender, not a wizard.”
“Nightcrafters come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Are you sure?” Newton asked.
“I am sure.”
“How?”
“Just trust me on this,” I told him. I kept my eye on the nightcrafter while I examined his surroundings a little more. Then I realized he was standing in front of a small bar. Maybe he actually was a bartender.
Through the Rift I could feel him drawing the power of the darkness to himself. He was making no efforts at moderation, even though the spell he was casting didn’t require anywhere near that much power. It only took me a couple of seconds to realize what he was doing, and I immediately disliked this dude.
Newton’s voice, a near whisper, said, “So is the bartender using magic right now?”
“Yes. He’s using it on the girl he’s talking to.”
“Hypnosis?” Newton asked.
“No, something else. He’s using the darkness in her underwear to . . . uh . . . stimulate certain things.”
Newton made a gagging sound. “That is gross and creepy.”
“Agreed,” I said. “But it seems to have worked. Looks like they’re exchanging phone numbers.”
“Great,” Newton said, his voice registering sudden excitement. “See if you can get a good angle on her phone. I might be able to see this guy’s number. Then we can identify him much faster.”
I moved to my left a little bit and tilted my head down to let the hat-cam get a good straight shot. “How’s the low light capture on this camera?”
“Best in the world,” Newton said, “and it has a very good optical zoom. I’m looking at our bartender’s phone number right now.”
Once the exchange was complete, our target’s lady friend sashayed away. But Mr. Bartender stayed, just hanging around and not doing anything in particular. Then I felt another presence.
“Interesting,” Newton said. “Is he waiting for something?”
“Or someone,” I said. “There’s another nightcrafter coming.”
“From where?”
“South,” I answered. But I’d been wrong. There wasn’t just one new presence in the Rift. At least ten people came around the corner. They were an ethnically diverse crowd of mostly middle-aged men with one woman and a guy who looked even younger than me. They were well-dressed, and they were laughing, and they were all nightcrafters. I cut myself off from the Rift completely and pretended not to notice them as they passed.
“All those people?” Newton asked.
“Yup. All of them.”
“Do nightcrafters often meet up like this?”
“I don’t think so. But I wouldn’t know for sure. The only direct contact I had with another nightcrafter was my teacher, but that might have been standard procedure for a student. Maybe the graduates hang out all the time.”
“Do you think they have like a . . . guild . . . or something?”
“Maybe,” I said. The group met up with Mr. Bartender, who was all smiles and nods and handshakes. Then he joined the pack as they headed up the street, towards a less populated area of town.
“We should follow them,” Newton said.
“No. I should follow them. You should stay back.”
“Dominique told me I shouldn’t leave you alone.”
“Things would get dramatically more difficult if I have to watch out for you while tailing them. Besides, I’m the team leader, right?”
“You are, but. . .”
“No time for arguments,” I said. “They’re moving. Stay behind and monitor the situation remotely.”
“Dominique isn’t going to like this.”
“If things go well, she doesn’t have to know.”
“And if things go poorly?” Newton asked.
“If things go poorly we’ll have a lot more to worry about than Dominique being mad at us.”
Newton didn’t have anything to say to that. I watched the group of nightcrafters make their way along the street until they turned a corner, then I started my pursuit. I kept myself cut off from the Rift completely so that my targets wouldn’t be able to detect me. I walked at a brisk pace, but not so fast that I’d draw suspicion.
I turned west, a direction which took me onto a narrow street lined with crates and Vespa scooters. I spotted Mr. Bartender and his friends at the end of the street. They had picked up two more female companions. Smiles and hugs were exchanged. These people were old friends.
“What’s going on?” Newton said in my ear.
“They picked up two more,” I said, trying to keep my voice down.
“Two more? Are they having a damn convention or something?”
/> “Looks like it,” I said. “I’m going to try to follow them, but if they keep adding people the chances of them noticing me go up a lot.”
“Stay with them,” Newton said, “but keep far back. I’m going to try to get clearance to tap into the city’s surveillance camera feeds.”
“You can do that?”
“Maybe,” Newton said. “But it will take a while.”
I followed the troupe of giddy nightcrafters as best as I could, using the tiniest possible connection to the Rift to find them whenever my eyes couldn’t. Gradually, the group grew larger as more nightcrafters joined. A dark-haired woman on one street. A short Indian man on another. A silver-haired couple holding hands in front of a coffee house. They all cheerily greeted the group, then merged into it as they traveled to their next destination. As their numbers increased, I grew more nervous and hung back further behind them.
“Are you getting this?” I muttered.
“Yup,” Newton said. “I haven’t been able to get access to the surveillance cameras yet, but I did get the data back on the bartender’s phone number. His name is Werner Brehm. He’s thirty-five years old. No spouse, no kids. Lives in Austria. Self-employed.”
“Pretty standard profile for a nightcrafter his age,” I said.
“His passport records show a lot of activity in the past few months,” Newton continued. “He’s been all over Europe.”
“Doing what?”
“No idea.”
The night deepened as I continued my slow pursuit. The streetlamps switched on, but it was still hard to make out my targets with my eyes. I made a brief foray back into the Rift and I could immediately feel that big blob of nightcrafter power ahead of me. The group turned a corner. I slowed my pace to not look too suspicious, thinking I would pass the street they turned on and use my senses to circle around and follow from a different direction. But something magical happened right at that moment.
They all disappeared.
“What the hell just happened?” I muttered. I’d never felt such a strong presence in the Rift simply disappear like that. Usually when someone cuts themselves out of the Rift after making a big splash there’s a bit of a lingering presence, like waves in the pool that remain even when you get out. But this was different. The nightcrafters had simply been there one second, and gone the next. I kept walking, speeding up my pace now. I came to the corner they had turned around. It was a short alley, with a high brick wall at the far side. A dead end.
I heard Newton’s voice, whispering through the tiny speaker. “Kal, what’s going on?”
“They’re gone,” I said.
“Gone? Gone where?”
“No clue,” I said. “They just vanished.”
“Do you think they entered a building on that street?”
“Doubtful. They didn’t just get out of my sight, Newton. They’re completely gone. I can’t detect them using the Rift anymore. So either they all stopped using magic—”
“Maybe they spotted you,” Newton said.
“Maybe,” I replied. “Or maybe they’re just not here anymore.”
“Where could they have gone?”
That was a good question. I paused for a moment to consider the answer, but I came up with nothing. “I don’t know, and I don’t think we’re going to find out.”
“You think they’re up to something?”
“That many nightcrafters in one spot? Hell yes they’re up to something.”
“Why do I get the feeling that this is really bad news?” Newton asked.
“Because you’re a smart boy and you know trouble when you see it,” I said.
“I’m going to call Dominique,” Newton said. “You should head back here.”
I didn’t reply. I just stood there in the street, carefully expanding my reach into the Rift and hoping I’d find something. I’d never seen that many nightcrafters in one place before, and I was forced to come up with desperate guesses for why they would be here. None of those guesses left me with warm fuzzy feelings.
* * *
We waited for hours for any more signs of magic, but gave up after it became apparent that our group of nightcrafters was not going to show up again. I was not looking forward to our debriefing.
After we returned to the hotel, Newton reported to home base. Later, he told me that Dominique sounded “icier than usual” when he gave her details of the nightcrafter disappearing act. A few hours after Newton reported in, we were on a commercial red-eye flight back to New York.
Newton called dibs on the window seat and kept his attention fixed on the city lights below as we ascended. He was a lot more relaxed than I was, and he slept during most of the trip back. Sometime during the night, his head rolled onto my shoulder. I didn’t mind, until he started to drool.
Seven hours later, we started the descent to New York City. I peeked around Newton’s head to get a view of the world below us. The sun was up and the city was bathed in early morning light. The signature skyscrapers were shining and the Central Park Lake caught the light just right so it shimmered like a huge pile of sapphires. After so many long weeks away, that beautiful sight almost made me cry.
We landed, got off the plane, got our bags, and headed out. I took a deep breath of the familiar New York air as Newton stretched and yawned. “There’s usually an official briefing immediately after these trips,” Newton said. “See you in a few hours I guess.”
“Yeah.”
I made my way home in a stupor. My initial excitement at being home gradually gave way to a sense of exhaustion. I was tempted to tap into the Rift for a bit of extra energy, but I fought off the urge. A good bit of sleep in my own bed should do the job.
I got back to my building and exchanged some pleasant nods and smiles with the few neighbors I’d had a chance to meet when I moved in. I’d been gone for so long I didn’t even remember their names, but they seemed nice. The building where I stayed was one of the most secure in the city since a number of United Nations and NATO staff stayed there temporarily or semi-permanently. My neighbors were quiet, nondescript people who just happened to have dangerous secrets tucked away in their heads. As I approached the door to my place, I made a mental note to try to get to know them a little better. Then I heard a cough from the other side of the door.
Someone was in my apartment.
Out of reflex, I immediately reached into the Rift. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. But nightcrafters never run from anybody, so a fight it would be. Besides, it had been a while since I’d been in a good fight. I kind of wanted one.
I used my lock-picking spell to quietly open the locks on my door, then I paused for a moment as I tried to figure out the best spell to use next. I didn’t want to kill anybody, so the potentially lethal spells weren’t an option. I also didn’t want to damage any of my stuff, so that limited my selection too. I decided on a simple illusion: a spell that would send billowing smoke under the door and hopefully draw the intruder out into the hallway, where I could freely beat the crap out of them.
I was just about to cast the illusion when the door opened, and Dominique was standing there.
I spent of couple of seconds gawping at her until my brain caught up with the situation. “You really shouldn’t try to sneak up on a nightcrafter like that,” I said. “You could get hurt.”
Dominique raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was sneaking?”
“You entered my place uninvited and unannounced. That’s sneaking.”
“No,” Dominique said. “That’s surprising. If I wanted to be sneaky, you’d have never known I was here.”
I rolled my eyes, stepped into my apartment, and closed the door. Everything seemed to be where I left it, but I inspected the area carefully to make sure. “So why are you here? Can’t you just torture me at the office tomorrow?”
“You won’t be going back to the office. Not for a while, at least.”
“Am I laid off or something?”
“No,” Dominique said. “Qu
ite the opposite actually. You’re going back out to do more field work.”
“More field work? I must have impressed you.”
“No,” Dominique said. “You’ll find I’m hard to impress. However, your performance in Europe was . . . satisfactory.”
“Good enough for government work?” I said.
“Something like that.”
“So, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to close that damn thing. Permanently.”
I plopped onto my couch and took my shoes off, trying to ease the stress I felt building up again. “You’re referring to the Rift,” I said. “You want me to close the Rift, which has existed for who knows how many centuries.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I said.
“But you know someone who might.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” I said.
“I’m talking about the man who taught you everything you know about nightcrafting. Kellar was his name, wasn’t it?”
I laughed. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”
“You said he left you with memories for a reason,” Dominique said. “Maybe he wants you to find him again when you’re ready.”
“Even if that’s true,” I said, “I doubt he’d just waltz into your office and help you destroy the craft he’s devoted his life to.”
Dominique crossed her arms. “I’m not saying that you should ask him politely.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Bring him in as a detainee. We will make him cooperate.”
“You can’t detain a nightcrafter,” I said.
“With your help, I think we can.”
“My help? What makes you think I can help you with this?”
“You know these people. You know their ways.”
“Not all of them,” I said. “I’m just a novice. I don’t even know what I don’t know.”
“You still have more expertise than any of us,” Dominique said. “And you have also become a very resourceful tactician during your time as part of our team. Combine that experience with your skills in nightcrafting, and I’d say you’re one of the most dangerous men on the planet.”