by Phil Gabriel
“Sure,” I said. Jason used his phone to call control, telling them to resume the slots and game-play at the tables. He breathed a sigh of relief as the slots started playing their siren song.
Then he had another thought. “Were Jonathan’s other stories true?” he asked in a near whisper.
“Which ones?” I asked. There were many stories about magicians; I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“That magicians can heal people?” asked Jason, looking down at his shoes.
“We’re not all healers,” I said. “And some things can’t be healed.” I took a look at his aura. He seemed in good enough health for a desk-bound manager. Gray temples, slightly over forty, but in good health. Could he be looking for a Priapism spell? “Viagra would be a lot cheaper than bargaining with a magician,” I stated. “What are you asking?”
“Not for me,” he said in a rush. “My wife, she suffers from severe arthritis. She can’t use her hands anymore. And the painkillers, when they’re strong enough to stop the pain, leave her almost unconscious.”
“So you want me to cure her arthritis?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said in a pleading voice. “She misses playing the piano.”
I looked at Akiko and Kitty-Sue. We had several hours before the show. There was probably time to help. My aunt had been a piano teacher. The background music shifted to an old Elton John song, “Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player.” Euterpe was weighing in.
As I was considering, Jason motioned to a house runner with Brittany on her name tag. Jason whispered instructions in her ear. She scurried away quickly, headed towards the cashier’s cage.
“You realize that healing your wife, if possible, will be a separate bargain?” I asked. “With a separate payment?” Just because I liked piano players didn’t mean I would do it for free.
Jason indicated that we should walk with him. Although the crowd was ignoring us, aided, I was sure, by kitsune magic, we needed to move away from the entrance. Kitty-Sue, ever pragmatic, took off her undamaged shoe so she could walk barefoot. She handed the two shoes and the broken-off heel to me. Jason didn’t even blink when I dropped the shoes into my invisible satchel, hiding them from sight.
“What do I have to bargain with?” asked Jason as we came to a VIP room. “I’m only a manager here. Getting the fifty K for damages will be hard enough to explain.”
Yeah, cry me a river. “You got off cheap; we were attacked,” I said. “Magicians always respond to attacks. We can’t afford to let anyone think they can get away with fucking with us.”
Brittany reappeared and handed out passes on lanyards to Kitty-Sue and me. The passes would ensure we would get VIP treatment and access to all areas of the casino. They were dated and valid only for today. The runner handed a zippered bag to Jason, along with a receipt on a clipboard for his signature. Jason took the bag, peeked inside, and signed the receipt. He then ushered us into the VIP room.
We entered an opulent room decorated in ’50s’ art deco style. The hostess immediately recognized Jason and led us to an alcove with a small table. I could see her eying our VIP day passes.
Staff, both male and female, wore the short shorts and midriff exposing T-shirts that were the costume of all employees here. The difference was that in the VIP room, every staff member was a knockout. I caught a jealous glare from Kitty-Sue as our server took our drink orders by leaning in closely and showing her ample assets. “Hi, I’m Victoria,” she introduced herself. “What can we get for you?”
Johnnie Walker Black Label for me, some fizzy Shirley Temple drink for Kitty-Sue, and a cup of coffee for Akiko. The server didn’t bat an eye at the coffee order for a nonexistent guest. Jason just had water.
Drinks arrived, and Jason watched as the cup of coffee that had been placed in front of me, next to my glass of scotch, slid quietly over to Akiko’s spot.
As I made the gestures and recited the spell to ghost the coffee over to Akiko’s plane, Jason said, “I thought our casino was protected against magic. Jerry assured me no one could perform magic in the casino.”
“Jerry?” I inquired. “Who’s Jerry?”
“Gray hair, Hawaiian shirt,” said Jason. “Spends a lot of time at the slots.”
Ah, the spotter. I was ready to blow off the question, but Kitty-Sue was watching avidly. I’d told her casinos were dead spots for magic. Thinking OPSEC, I said blandly, “Most magicians, witches, wizards, etc., couldn’t perform here. However, magicians of our caliber don’t have a problem.”
“Sooo,” said Jason, fondling the money bag, “you’re guaranteeing that no more ‘incidents’ will occur?”
Glancing at the bag, I said, “Not at all. I don’t control all the magicians in the world.” I took a sip of scotch and continued, “Permanent protection against mystic threats would cost a lot more. We have a Deal for today. Magicians don’t change contracts. I highly recommend that you don’t try to alter our agreement.”
“Oh, yeah,” interrupted Kitty-Sue, “the last person who tried to cheat him ended up transformed into a half-fox hybrid and was auctioned off at a furry convention. He’s very creative that way.” She didn’t mention that she was talking about her sister.
“Oh, no, no,” he stammered, “I wasn’t going to try to renege. Just wanted the parameters of our discussion to be clear.” With that, he pulled five stacks of currency out of the bag and placed them in front of me. Each stack was composed of one hundred one-hundred-dollar bills, wrapped with a dark yellow striped paper band. The scent of fresh money tickled my nose. I love that smell.
Before accepting the cash, and sealing the Deal, I offered, “However, the number of people who could do what I”—I caught a raised eyebrow from Akiko— “we did is very small. The chances of that happening are minuscule.” Finishing my drink and waving at the waitress for another, I continued, “If your guard hadn’t accosted us, we wouldn’t have touched your games.”
Somewhat relieved at my assurance that a horde of magicians wasn’t going to appear and wipe out the casino, Jason nodded acceptance. I pulled the stacks of cash closer, completing our Deal.
The waitress arrived to take my order, eyes going wide at the sight of the cash. I slipped a hundred-dollar bill out of one of the stacks and handed it to her. “I’ll have another Johnnie Walker Black, Victoria, thanks.” Kitty-Sue gave another jealous glare at my admiration of the waitress, so I continued, “And my friend here wants Rocky to serve her.”
Glancing around in puzzlement, Kitty-Sue was surprised when a male waiter glided up and said, “Hi, beautiful, what can I get for you?” He looked like Michelangelo’s David, with muscles almost as hard as the statue.
“A-a-another of these, please,” stammered Kitty-Sue as she stared at his shorts. Tearing her gaze away, she looked at me in embarrassment. Was that the slightest hint of a blush on my bodyguard’s face? My ninja shapeshifter assassin was embarrassed?
Rocky quickly glided back with her fizzy drink, leaning in close and placing it in front of her. Kitty-Sue froze as he whispered, “Anything you want, just call me.” As he straightened up, I handed him a hundred-dollar bill.
Akiko watched our exchange and asked, “So drinks here are one hundred dollars each?” Oh yeah, Japanese don’t understand tipping. I would have to clue them in later.
Jason, eager to finalize the Deal for his wife, said, “Can we discuss my wife’s case now?”
“I can’t make a Deal until we examine her,” I said. “There are lots of things I can’t fix. I won’t make a promise I can’t keep.” Taking another sip of scotch, I continued, “We’ll need a room and some privacy for an examination.”
“How about tomorrow?” interrupted Jason. “That would be better.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Sorry, tomorrow I have to fly cross-country for a meeting. It’s now or never.”
Seeing that I was willing to walk away from the Deal, Jason nodded and checked his phone. “OK,” he said, standing up, “I’ll set it up rig
ht now.” Calling over our waitress, he said, “I’m going to prep a room for our guests here. I’ll call down in a few minutes. Take good care of them.” Excusing himself, he hurried away, phone to his ear.
The waitress was having a hard time tearing her gaze away from the stacks of cash, but leaned down and asked, “Are you ready for another drink?”
“No,” I said, “I better switch to coffee. I have to operate soon.” One last glance at me, and the cash, and she went to place my order. I found myself admiring her tight shorts as she walked away.
At a slight cough from Akiko, I looked over to see Kitty-Sue’s angry face. At my grin, she concentrated, and a cloud of her pheromones wafted out. All the males, and several females, looked over at her, several stepping our way. Rocky practically ran to our table, his shorts seeming even tighter than before, and said, “Another drink coming up for the lady!”
As he reluctantly walked away, butt wiggling even more than my waitress’ had, I laughed and said, “Touché. Let’s not cause a riot. You know I don’t like when you influence people with your scent.”
Crossing her arms and leaning back, Kitty-Sue said, “And I don’t like when you influence people with the scent of money.” Her pheromone scent faded away.
Looking down at the cash, I said, “Oh, yes. The money. I had almost forgotten.” I picked up two of the intact stacks of cash and placed one in front of Akiko and one in front of Kitty-Sue. Akiko pulled her stack from the table, riffled it, and made a gesture with her hand, and the money disappeared. Kitty-Sue didn’t touch the cash, just continued watching me with one eyebrow raised in query.
It took a second, but I realized what she was asking. “Ladies,” I said, “this cash is for any miscellaneous expenses you may have. It is not the payment we negotiated for bodyguard duties. That payment will be made after our business in New York is complete.”
Kitty-Sue crossed her legs, bringing her bare foot into view, and stared at her unshod foot. Oh, right. She had been promised compensation for damage to her wardrobe. I silently pulled another fifty one-hundred-dollar bills from the unwrapped stack and passed them over to her. “And, of course, this is so you can buy new shoes.”
Kitty-Sue chortled with glee as she raked in the money, folded it up, and put it in her tiny purse. “I think I didn’t bargain hard enough in Tokyo,” she said.
Giving her my best no-nonsense gaze, I replied, “I don’t renegotiate once a Deal has been made.”
Giving a “just joking” chuckle, Kitty-Sue said, “Of course. I was just reminding myself for the next time.” She finished her fizzy drink and waved her waiter over for another.
“You know,” she said, after we had been served again, “we didn’t need to argue with the guards. I could have walked us right past them.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “and Akiko’s invisible and I have a ‘don’t see me’ spell as well.” I sipped my coffee and continued, “We call it ‘showing the flag.’ Demonstrating that it’s a very bad idea to insult us. Once I showed my tattoo, he should have backed off.
“Look, there are not many magicians in the world. Even fewer unbound healers. I have to appear tough, or I’ll end up as Kim Jong-Un’s personal physician or as a snack for a monster like Jorōgumo.”
Rocky rushed back and delivered another drink for Kitty-Sue. I waved my waitress over and ordered two more coffees, one for me and one for Akiko. I asked her to take away the first cup of coffee I had ghosted a copy of to Akiko’s plane.
“So,” asked Kitty-Sue, “are you going to start more fights with idiots to ‘show your”—she glanced down at my lap— “flag’? I need to know if I’ll have to do this every day.
“And,” she continued, “I’ve seen you defeat Jorōgumo. I was surprised you didn’t take those guards out yourself.”
Our drinks came, and I waited for our servers to leave. However, they hung around within earshot. While I added cream and sugar to Akiko’s coffee, I kept quiet. I tapped my ear while glancing at the servers. Kitty-Sue got the hint immediately and used her kitsune magic to create a bubble of quiet around us. Since that was normally something Akiko or I would do, she had a puzzled expression on her face.
How much to tell her? Magicians trade in secrets and hate to let any loose. But she was my friend, maybe more than a friend, and my bodyguard. She needed to know.
“Jason was right,” I started, “it’s very difficult to perform magic in casinos. Hundreds of gamblers, some with talent, praying for a win, quickly eats up any ambient magic. That leaves nothing for a magician to work with.”
“But,” interjected Kitty-Sue, “I’ve seen you do stuff here.”
I looked at Akiko, who nodded for me to explain. She trusted Kitty-Sue. “All magicians can store some magical energy inside themselves. The more powerful the magician, the more he or she can store,” I said, and took a sip of coffee.
“Beyond that internal storage, we have Artifacts of Power,” I said, “which act like batteries. Akiko-san’s ring, Princess”—at the mention of her name, the blade emitted a questioning tone that calmed when I placed a hand on her hilt— “and even your collar. All can store mystical energy.”
Kitty-Sue sipped at her fizzy drink before asking, “But we kitsune don’t need these Artifacts. They’re pretty much useless to us. Why did my aunt and sister want them so badly?”
“You have no need of one,” I said, “but trading it to a magician or, even worse, a witch would get you almost anything they have in exchange.”
“So,” teased Kitty-Sue, “I could trade this collar to the New York witches’ coven for my heart’s desire?”
“Yes,” I said, “they would promise almost anything to get their hands on the collar.” My heart dropped at the thought of her trading away the collar, but now that it was in her possession, she could do with it what she wished.
“Promise, promise,” said Kitty-Sue. “You said that funny. Won’t a witch keep her promise?”
“Almost certainly not,” I replied. “Witches are famous for their lies. That’s one of the reasons magicians always keep their promises. Most people won’t trade with a witch, because of their poor reputation.”
“This is interesting,” said Kitty-Sue, “but we’re getting away from the subject. I need to know what you can and can’t do.”
“OK,” I said, “with an Artifact of Power, I can perform magic almost anywhere.”
“Wait, wait,” said Kitty-Sue, holding up one hand, “you said places where people prayed for help. It’s not just casinos, is it? There are lots of places you can’t make magic. Hmmm, churches, shrines...”
“Prisons,” interjected Akiko, “graveyards, other places.”
“Another problem with magicians is that moving to a new place requires some time to acclimate,” I said.
“Acclimate?” asked Kitty-Sue.
“Get used to, flavor, of local magic,” said Akiko. “So we can use it. Scott-Sensei and I did that this morning.”
“So, that’s why you spent two hours zenned out in the garden?” asked Kitty-Sue.
“Hai,” responded Akiko, “advanced technique. Most magicians”—Akiko looked at me for confirmation— “can’t do well.”
“So,” said Kitty-Sue, “when we get to New York, you’ll both have to zen out for a few hours to get acclimated to the local magic? That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” I said. “Here in Las Vegas, it only took a few hours because I have lived here. New York will take longer.”
“How much longer?” asked Kitty-Sue.
“It’s hard to say,” I replied. “I was in New York about twenty years ago, so I”—I looked at Akiko— “we should be able to get up to speed fairly quickly.”
“How much longer?” repeated Kitty-Sue, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.
“A few days at best,” I replied, taking a sip of my coffee.
“At best, at best,” repeated Kitty-Sue, “and at worst?”
“A few w
eeks,” I said. “The longest it ever took me to get to full power was six months.” Six months in a Vietnam POW camp: starved, beaten, and terrified. That’s a story I didn’t want to tell.
Nodding to herself, Kitty-Sue said, “That’s OK. While you and Akiko-san are zenning out, I will protect you. After that, you can take care of yourself. Hell, you beat Jorōgumo without using the ring or the collar.”
“Yes,” I said, “I beat Jorōgumo, but it took a lot out of me.”
“Why do I feel like there’s more bad news?” asked Kitty-Sue.
“There’s only one other thing,” I said, looking down at my hands and arms on the table. A trickle of power and the delicate tracery of tattoos appeared. They ran from under my armpits, down the inside of my elbows, to my wrists. The tracery was interrupted, cut as it reached my hands. “The fight with Jorōgumo damaged my tattoos. They were burned out when I zapped Jorōgumo.”
Leaning in to examine the markings, Kitty-Sue sniffed and looked at me quizzically. “Dragon blood? These were made with dragon blood?”
“It’s OK,” I said, “I know a guy in New York who can repair the tattoos.” If he was still alive. “Once repaired, I’ll be able to channel power like before.”
“So, you can’t blast, plus you can’t fill up your tank until you acclimate?” asked Kitty-Sue, getting back to the practical. “Just how weak are you?”
“Oh,” I said, levitating all three of our drinks with a thought, “I’m still a powerful magician. Just not as powerful as I was before.”
Akiko was watching in fascination. As a ghost, she didn’t have any human physical limitations on her power, only mental limitations. She could channel more raw power than me. That was why the kitsune queen had been worried about her running around Tokyo unsupervised.
At Kitty-Sue’s show of interest, I explained, “The dragon blood in the tattoos acts like a supernatural superconductor. It lets me channel much more power than most magicians can dream of.” I lowered the three drinks back to their original spots.