by Tom Dowd
Kyle nodded, then turned to his ally spirit, who was standing with arms crossed over his chest.
"Interesting earring," the spirit said quietly in Sioux, and Kyle could see Hanna Uljaken react though she kept on walking. He scowled at the spirit. "Yes, but it's not a concern," he told Seeks-the-Moon in English.
The spirit shrugged slightly in deference. "As you wish."
Just past the spirit Kyle could see that Uljakgn had settled into her chair and was studying them intently.
"How are the boys?" Kyle asked Moon.
"Complaining as usual."
That's good. It's when they start saying nice things about me that I'll be worried." He paused and looked over the room. "This will be a simple direct-progression ritual. I need to locate and tag a missing boy, Mitchell Truman."
"Should be simple enough," Moon said matter-of-factly.
Til be using a Kellehoff circle as the basis."
The spirit shrugged. "You say that as though my opinion on the matter would carry any weight"
Kyle chuckled. "I just thought you'd like to know."
"Very thoughtful."
Kyle reached for his jacket and pointed at the small, round black lacquer table in the center of the room. "Would you move that and the rug under it for me? That's where I want to build the circle."
The spirit rolled his eyes skyward for a moment, then complied. "Moving furniture is, of course, the eternal aspiration of all ethereal beings."
"Good. I knew you wouldn't mind," Kyle said as he pulled two flat leather cases out of his jacket's special pockets.
Hanna Uljaken laughed. "Are they all like this?" she asked.
Kyle smiled, and the spirit looked up from where he was guiding the table across the floor with the motion of his finger.
"No," Seeks-the-Moon said. "Some of us actually have complete, fulfilling existences, complete with rewards and respect."
"No, they're not all this way," Kyle interjected, ignoring Moon's sarcasm. "In creating Seeks-the-Moon I used the Rigetti formula. The only problem is that Rigetti was a Jungian, a fact I didn't attach quite enough importance to at the time."
"I don't understand."
"Seeks-the-Moon is, in a sense, or in essence, a reflection of my 'shadow', the repressed and often nefarious aspect of my personality."
The spirit winked. "Indeed."
"So it's part of his nature to be at odds with my conscious desires, which generally makes him a pain in the butt." But Kyle smiled almost benevolently as he watched his ally rolling up the small rug.
Uljaken thought about that for a bit "And yet, if he is a direct, or even symbolic connection to your subconscious, the fact that Seeks-the-Moon is expressive could be extremely useful."
Both the spirit and the mage stared at her. "Yes," Kyle said.
"Except that he usually finds the embarrassing and doesn't let me out much in public," the spirit said as he resumed his work of clearing away the rug.
"We can talk more about it later if you're interested," Kyle said.
"I am."
"Good. I can also tell you something of what I am doing here, though I can't afford to go into much detail because it would distract me."
Kyle unzipped the two leather cases. Both were slightly larger than his hand and each contained a number of small, flat gold objects, some thin gold thread wrapped around a piece of copper, a small sheaf of parchment paper, and a pen.
"A magical spell," Kyle told her, "is cast by harmonizing, adapting, shaping, and constructing patterns of magical energy—mana—according to a specific formula."
Seeks-the-Moon squatted down and blew away the faint border of dust that lay around the empty space where the rug had been.
"Each formula is finite in its potential, though segments in the formula are left open for elaboration," Kyle explained as he carefully removed the gold items from the cases. "If I were to create a spell with 'X' potential, its formula would have 'X' complexity. If I were to increase the spell's potential to, say, twice 'X', the formula could very easily, and very quickly, reach a complexity of four or eight times 'X’."
Hanna Uljaken nodded understanding. "Potential and complexity are geometrically related."
"That's right." Kyle gathered up the gold objects and walked into the center of the room. "But you must remember that I'm talking generally and abstractly.
"The complexity of the formula is what ultimately determines the difficulty of casting the spell, that and how much raw energy must be channeled in the casting. So, instead of trying to cast a spell with a four-times potential but a sixteen-times complexity, and probably failing and getting hurt in the process, we cast the normal-potential spell but use a ritual to amplify and expand those parts of the formula left open for elaboration. The basting takes significantly longer, but the complexity is minimized, the potential increased significantly, and the danger limited."
"Makes sense," Uljaken said.
"That," said Seeks-the-Moon, "is the grossest oversimplification you are every likely to hear, short of 'I snap my fingers and it goes poof.’"
"Well, it will do just fine," she told him.
"Really?" Seeks-the-Moon turned toward Kyle and raised an eyebrow archly.
Kyle ignored him. "I'm going to use a simple detection spell to find Mitchell. Normally the spell's range is so limited that if he wasn't, say, on this floor of his building, the spell wouldn't find him. But the ritual will let me cast the spell over a wider area.
"But I must cast the spell in a metaphysically 'balanced' environment, which these items are going to let me create. I'm going to do this silently, if you don't mind. Building the circle takes time and concentration."
"I, however, would be more man pleased to keep you amused," Seeks-the-Moon told Uljaken, smiling broadly.
She started to reply, but Kyle spoke first. "You must both be silent for this. I'd suggest you go off to another room to chat, but I'd like you to stay close to Seeks-the-Moon for the attunement.
'Truthfully," Kyle added, "I don't trust him."
"That's an interesting bit of self-observation, Mr. Teller," Uljaken said, and the spirit laughed loudly. "I'll have to keep it in mind."
Kyle shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a space to initialize." And with that he knelt and began placing the gold items upright at the edges of a circle he was slowly building around himself.
5
"Each stand sits on either a cardinal or subordinate point," Kyle said while examining the completed circle from the outside. 'Those are metaphysical points of correspondence that different traditions and theologies have assigned definitions and importance. I studied hermetics primarily at Columbia, which was also about as secular as you could get. Nonetheless, association of the cardinal points to something greater definitely allows a certain degree of conceptual and procedural centering."
"A common starting point, and so on?" Uljaken said.
"Exactly." Kyle pointed at each of the primary upright stands in turn as he spoke. "For example, north corresponds with the element of earth in many Western traditions, east with the element of air, south with fire, and west with water. There are theological correspondences as well, but I don't want to get into that"
"Coward," said Seeks-the-Moon.
Kyle ignored the jibe. "When I begin, I'll stand at the center, which corresponds to spirit. Some argue that that's the fifth element. I'm not so sure. I'll begin the ritual facing north since we're looking for a physical body."
Uljaken looked around at the eight upright stands marking a rough circle in the center of the room. "Doesn't the circle have to be closed?"
Kyle nodded. "It will be, but only once I'm inside. Before that I need something of Mitch's to focus on, something that will pick up his resonance for use in both the spell and the ritual."
"That's what the ritual sample you talked about earlier would have been for."
"Yes. Any random samples around here—hair, body fluids,
and such—would be long 'dead' by now, so I'll have to go with something symbolic or associative of Mitch instead. Can you think of anything here that might be particularly important to the boy?"
Hanna Uljaken's eyes widened slightly as she cast her gaze around the room. "Urn ... I'm not sure. Maybe we should call the Trumans."
Kyle laughed. "Considering the state of their relationship with him, I'm not sure they could tell us any better than we could guess."
"But I'm not so sure we actually could guess. Mitch always seemed very cold and distant to me."
"Even with your earring?" asked Seeks-the-Moon, now seated casually on the couch. He smiled innocently when both looked sharply over at him.
"Yes, even with that," Uljaken said tersely, but Kyle thought she had paled slightly at Moon's comment
He began walking toward the bedroom. "Well, then, we look for something he had frequent contact with."
The bedroom, unlike the rest of the apartment, was a shambles.
“I was going to ask if anyone had cleaned in here since the boy disappeared, but I think I have my answer," Kyle said.
"The cleaning service only comes when they have his permission."
Kyle stepped carefully toward a pile of clothing. "And since no one could get hold of him, they didn't." He pushed through the garments with his foot, using the toe of his boot to lift out a black T-shirt. The cracked holographic logo of the band L'Inflame was just barely legible. "The Infamous?" said Kyle.
Ms Uljaken shrugged. "I don't know the group either." Her eyes, though, widened suddenly as she pointed at it. "He used to wear that all the time! I think he said it was autographed. He was very proud of it."
Kyle smiled in satisfaction. "Then I suspect this will do quite well." He flipped the shirt up off his foot and caught it. "Frag," he said, "I've had less."
Back in the living room, he surveyed the casting circle with his astral senses. Dormant lines of force were visible around the edge of the area, connecting each of the stands. He checked each closer, making sure the links and locks of energy were correctly prepared. They seemed to be.
"All right," he said. "Let's do it."
"Should I call the two guards in?" asked Uljaken.
Seeks-the-Moon snorted and Kyle shook his head. "No, they won't be able to handle the kind of problems we might have in here. Seeks-the-Moon will take care of anything unexpected that might occur."
The spirit nodded stoically, then tipped his hat as Kyle stepped within the area of the circle. Draped over his left arm was the black T-shirt and held in the same hand was a small piece of parchment that he'd taken from his case and on which he had written the words "Mitchell Gregory Truman". Taking his place in the center of the circle, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. Minutes passed as he stood there silent and still.
"Isn't he awfully quiet?" Uljaken whispered to Moon. "I thought magicians had to chant when casting spells."
"Some do." Seeks-the-Moon was watching Kyle carefully. "Shaman or mage, it makes no difference. They seem to need the universe to hear them. I think he's quiet because the magic of his people isn't."
"I'd have never guessed he was Amerindian if I hadn't read the Knight Errant report."
The spirit snorted. "You obviously haven't taken a good look at his nose."
Uljaken started to laugh, but stifled it quickly when she saw that Kyle had lifted his head and was slowly stretching out his right hand toward the east coordinate. "Now we must be quiet," the spirit said as Kyle suddenly turned his hand palm up and opened his eyes.
An argent flame appeared on the east stand, turning gold as it jumped to the coordinate stand next to it going clockwise, and men finally brilliant scarlet as it jumped to the south stand. It jumped again to the next coordinate, changing to violet and then bright sapphire when it reached the western stand. Kyle was turning to face north as the flame leaped again, became deep emerald, and then coppery as it reached the north. Finally, a white flame flickered to life at the northeast coordinate.
Uljaken looked wide-eyed at all the flaming stands. She could see no wick nor any other source for the flame.
Seeks-the-Moon leaned slightly closer to her. "It's magic," he said in a stage whisper.
"This is amazing."
"Wait." The spirit stretched out his hand toward the big windows overlooking the lake. He gestured, and the heavy vertical blinds moved across and rotated, blocking the light. The room dimmed, and in that near dark it was possible to make out a faint aura of energy, a globe it seemed, surrounding the circle area.
"The ward," said Seeks-the-Moon. "It keeps bad things out and good things in."
"How long will this take?"
Seeks-the-Moon shrugged. "At least two hours. I hope you brought something to read."
Inside the circle, the weave of the forces at play radiated outward from Kyle into astral space like wheels within wheels of colors the same as the flames marking the circle. Each rotated in a different direction, at a different speed; and was positioned at different angles from the rest.
Kyle, though, was at the mystical and physical center, attempting to link the energies of the ritual to those of Mitchell Gregory Truman, wherever he might be. Serving as the focus of the synchronization was the boy's shirt, which still held a metaphysical impression of him burned into it from prolonged contact.
Kyle reached out mystically and changed the rotation of one of the wheels, the copper one. To his astral senses it began to emit a low, quiet tone whose resonance soon matched the shirt. Kyle smiled. Now it was only a matter of time. He changed the position of the silver circle until it matched the copper one, which pulsed and began to rotate on its axis around Kyle. Then Kyle touched the shirt hanging from his arm with his astral senses and completed the last link between it and the copper ring. The wheel flashed and a ghostly image of it shot outward beyond the circle in all directions. A copper wheel still rotated around him, but Kyle knew that an aspect of it, being in synchrony with Mitch Truman, was being drawn to the boy's physical body. And when it arrived, Kyle would be able to cast the detection spell and learn the boy's location. The search could take a while if Mitchell wasn't in the city. Meanwhile it would take all of Kyle's concentration to keep the wheels spinning.
Outside the circle, Hanna Uljaken and Seeks-the-Moon watched carefully. Physically, Kyle had moved little, but Moon was quietly narrating each step of the ritual as it progressed.
"The Sending involves synchronizing the spell being cast with the target, much in the same way that the Linking synchronized the ritual's energy with the target."
"But if he's been found, why is the spell necessary?" she asked.
“The energies are linked, but the magician has no way of knowing where they lead. He is forcing a connection that should not be. It is not until the Sending that the flow of energy is sufficient to be traceable, in either direction."
"So you could trace a Sending back to its origin?'
The spirit smiled. "That's why I'm here."
"I see."
"But we're not at that stage—yet." The spirit seemed to tense suddenly. "Something is wrong."
"Are we in danger?"
"No, it's too early in the ritual for that ..."
Inside, Kyle felt the change in the energy rhythms. The copper wheel was vibrating. Soon its vibration would spread to the other wheels and unravel the entire ritual. He was just reaching out mystically to strengthen it when, with a loud bell tone, it shattered. The others quickly followed suit in a blinding cascade of color and sound. Kyle braced for the psychic backlash, but it was only minimal when it came, easily countered by his training. He restored his physical senses as half the paper with Mitchell Truman's name on it drifted slowly to the floor, smoking. The name had been divided cleanly in two.
"What happened?" asked Seeks-the-Moon, stepping up to the edge of the still-active circle. Kyle held up his hand as he scanned the last vestiges of the ritual, searching for more clues to the reas
ons for its dissolution.
"The paper is torn," Uljaken said. "Does that mean he's dead?"
"No," Kyle said, letting the shirt drop to his feet. "He's not dead."
"Then what?" asked Seeks-the-Moon.
"The boy is within a protective ward."
The spirit's eyes widened slightly and a mischievous smile came to his lips. "Really?"
"Inside a what?" Uljaken asked.
"A ward or circle of some kind," said Kyle. "Maybe much like this one."
"And that means?"
Kyle gestured and all the flames vanished, plunging the room into near darkness. "That means that either Mitchell has very powerful friends"—a ball of silver rose from his hand and filled the room with light—"or very dangerous enemies."
6
"I'm using the term ward generically," Kyle explained. The Truman family, Hanna Uljaken, William Facile of Knight Errant, and two other corporate assistants were all gathered back at Daniel Truman's condo. "It could be any kind of mystical barrier—a hermetic circle, medicine lodge, barrier spell, or ward of some kind."
"There's no way to tell?" asked Lieutenant Facile.
Kyle shook his head. "No. If I'd been able to lock the first part of the ritual onto him, then I could have followed the magic astrally to his location. But the ward is blocking the ritual."
Facile nodded and turned to the senior Truman. "Sir, Knight Errant can assemble a larger ritual team using multiple mages. That should be enough to overcome this kind of resistance." He glanced over at Kyle. "More capable than one man at least."
Truman looked ready to speak, but Kyle had already cut in. "Maybe so, but it would also alert whoever set up the ward that trouble was coming. By doing it alone, I reduced the risk of tipping off whoever's got Mitchell that someone is using magic to find him. They should still think he's safe."
"Doesn't all this assume Mitchell wants to be found?" put in Melissa Truman, looking as bored as ever.
Facile's tone was impatient. "We have to assume that."
"It's true there hasn't been any contact with the family, let alone a ransom note," Kyle said, "but I agree with the lieutenant, Ms. Truman. Unfortunately, we have to assume the worst. Because this involves a family as important as yours, its very likely magic is being used in some negative manner."