Mid-Arc

by David Gosnell

  “A nasty thing,” she says with a wan smile. “Well, nasty for me. I gave you a cocktail of neuromantic energies that cool down the primal and pleasure centers while engaging the rational/logical centers. It’s like opposite to my normal flow of energy, so it feels kind of disgusting to do—kind like I guess how a cat feels when you pet its hair backwards.”

  “Well, damn, Sil, I feel great.” Then the next question comes up—how did she get to me to begin with? She’s compelled to not seduce me. “Sil, how did you—”

  “Arthur. That wasn’t a seduction—that was an assault. I figured that one out a while back. I can’t seduce you, but I can rape you.”

  Demon word games.

  That unsettling revelation is broken as the door to Sil’s room opens and Shey almost walks in. She takes one look at me and Sil, then stops dead her tracks. Her jaw drops. You don’t need enhanced reasoning abilities to know what she’s thinking. I’m shirtless and have a wet spot on my trousers.

  “She’s had you.”

  Before I can say a word, Sil flips around, sitting up, arms on the bed, looking right at Shey. “Oh, my, you were soooo right. It’s like the whole world shook when he came!”

  Shey doesn’t say a word. Her lips quiver a little, then she steps back and closes the door. I imagine her running down the hall crying. I start for the door, but my left leg snags on something.

  Well, actually something snagged my leg—Sil’s tail, now curled around my ankle. I turn to let into her. But don’t get the chance.

  “Shush, Arthur, before you even start. That little pixie makes it a point to share all the gory details of every tryst you two have. She knows it makes me crazy jealous. So, this is a little payback.”

  “She does what?”

  “No big thing, really. I’d want to know anyway.” She stands to look me in the eye. “Listen, you need to stay focused on the problem. I’ll handle Pixie. What matters is finding the Collector. Our family isn’t safe until he’s dead.”

  Sil appears very serious now. Her hands take my face, and her own scrunches like she just ate a lemon, rind and all. I sense a very subtle feeling, like I’m even more awake.

  “That’s a touch-up. Don’t let her get you off track. Or me. Work the problem. Jerry and Marge deserve no less.”

  She’s right. Jerry, Marge, Svea, and Grey deserve revenge. I meet Sil’s now intense gaze. “I’ll get Arix and see what we can do. Maldy’s link to the communicator thing has to have something to exploit.”

  “Make sure to summon Arix outside the house, if you know what I mean,” she says.

  Demon word games. In this case I may have to play this one. Not welcome in his house, indeed.

  Chapter 45

  After my beeline to the porch area, I step beyond it to take in the night. Clear sky, half moon. Z has modified this one a little. Unlike the Kentucky bunker, it has an awning over the porch and a privacy fence. Not that there was all that much to hide from nearby.

  Arix. I walk back under the enclosure and run my finger across his sigil. The air ripples and my sorcerer appears. He looks around quickly—I presume for Ahtsag.

  “Thank you for bringing me out,” he says.

  “Most welcome. We have work.” I bring him up to speed with where I’m at—the communication talisman being our “in” to Maldy.

  Arix sits down and looks at me with concern. “I am sorry, my Wielder. That could never work. You see, our prey would be using the same method of glyphic cover that Ahtsag Znuul does, at least some variation. If we could make a connection, it would only be if his protection was down, which would not be for long. You cannot track that to which you cannot make a connection.”

  I look at Arix and he blanches a little. He knows I don’t want to hear this. But it’s the truth.

  “So what if we call him on yours and create a connection?”

  He looks at me disapprovingly. “My Wielder, then we are using the device to speak and not to track. We cannot do both simultaneously.”

  Damn. I take a deep breath. Perhaps I’m not approaching this right.

  “Arix, how does this communication disk work?”

  “He has a central talisman. He can extract others, like Silithes’ or mine, from it using proper conjurations. Each one he conjures produces a sigil on the original, indicating which device is communicating with him. It is not complicated magic, just detailed in the creation of the original device, like the one he carries.”

  I look at Arix. “So it’s a telephone with caller ID.”

  He sneers, “That is very much oversimplifying the concept.”

  But that changes the playing field. “Okay, Arix, we can’t track Maldy. But what about tracking his phone, er. . . talisman thingy. Or better yet, what about being able to monitor its position? They can do that with cell phones. Is that something we could do? Figure out its frequency or something?”

  Arix’s eyes open wide. And by eyes, I mean all of them, including the third one that glows purple. “Master Arthur, I don’t mean to sound demeaning, but when did you become so insightful? That is brilliant. We don’t need to know where he is. We just need to know where his talisman is.”

  “Can it be done?”

  His third eye closes and his regular eyes dart around. “I think so. It will require us to make a connection to establish at which magical frequency it accepts transmissions.” He looks at me severely. “It will take some doing, but yes, yes, it can work. I think we can even track him ongoing. It will take a certain kind of device and calibrations to point to where he is in the world. And of course if he leaves our particular plane of existence, we cannot track him.”

  I am pumped. I shoot up out of my seat and pace the porch. “Really? Are you sure?”

  Arix shrugs. “As much as I can be until we test it. But a device to take the energy and move a pointer to his location is key. I can’t stress that enough. I can supply the spell and energy, but we will need more than a simple map and my hand to guide a pointer. We’re talking the entire world, and thus there is a need for some precision.”

  I take that in. A world map can only show us, at best, what city he’s in. “Ok, we have your device and pieces of Sil’s. Can we make hers work? If we can, then we can have a macro device and a micro device. You get me?”

  Another look of disbelief from my sorcerer. “I don’t mean to imply you have been a dullard in the past, my Wielder, but you seem to be functioning at a higher level now. Having two levels of detection makes a great deal of sense. Though the second, detailed, one would require a sorcerer’s touch, given an inability to precalibrate.”

  I take that as a yes. “So, what do we need to pull this off?”

  Arix looks at me sternly. “I need the luchorpean. He is good with technical things, practical and physical things. He tinkers well. We will work together and he will tell you what materials are needed for the physical portion. I will work on the magical calculations, spell composition, and energy holding vessel.”

  Despite the fact that I know it’s rude, I do it anyway. I run my finger along Pffif’s rune and send him to the white. Then I do it again and summon him before me. The air shimmers and there’s my leprechaun.

  “Ye tellin’ me ye couldn’t just knock on me door?”

  “Times wasting for me, Pffif. I need you and Arix to work together. We’re going to track the collector. Arix is up to speed. I’m going to go tell Znuul what’s up.”

  I put my hand on Pffif’s shoulder. “Not the time for the flask. This is serious. Do what you can, and if gets beyond you, let us know.”

  “Beyond me? Bah!”

  I open the sliding glass door and make my way past the kitchen and down the hall to the giant red doors that guard Znuul’s bedroom. I knock. A moment passes and nothing. I knock again. He needs to know what we can do.

  The door opens and I am greeted by Znuul in all his demon glory, wrapped in a velvet bath coat. Kitten is sitting in the bed, sheets pulled up over her.

  “Best be good ne
ws, Arthur. You are interrupting special time.”

  I smile. “We can find him. Maldgorath. Arix is needed. He’s outside. Not in your house, but we need him, so don’t squish his head again. There’s a device that we’ll need to build. We can find the bastard.”

  Znuul’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. We can find him. I figured it out.”

  Znuul looks me up and down. His eyes stop on the spot on my trousers and he sniffs. “You’re mind-jacked. You made her do that clarity thing, didn’t you, sly dog? I knew I liked you. Way to command your assets!”

  “It didn’t exactly go down like that, but yeah, she hit me with the whole reason thing. And we can find him. I think.”

  “You think?”

  Now that kind of pisses me off. We had nothing. Now we have something.

  “Hey, what do you got?

  “Point taken.” Znuul looks back at Kitten, who is now on her knees bouncing. “Meet you on the porch when we’re done.”

  Then he closes the door in my face. Nice.

  The door opens again.

  “Good going. Change your pants before the fairy sees that.”

  The door closes again. That’s good advice, but way too late.

  I head to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Sil’s neuromancy is starting to fade and with it, me. I head back out to the porch, coffee in hand. Pffif and Arix are huddled together, talking animatedly about what is needed.

  I plop down in a porch seat and take a sip of my coffee. I watch them talking, gesturing. They are very much into it. Damn, I was so on top of things. Now I just want to be on top of my bed.

  After a while, I hear the sliding glass door open. Znuul has joined us. “Bring me up to speed.”

  I look over to Arix and say, “Tell him.”

  Arix says, “Most likely we can find Maldgorath.”

  Pffif starts talking about needing zero friction pulleys and sorts.

  Arix is mentioning soil samples. They are very engaged—all three of them.

  Me, I’m cradling my coffee and feeling very tapped out.

  “This is very good,” Znuul proclaims. “Arix, you are welcome in my house, for now.”

  “I presume you will give me a warning when I am not,” Arix says.

  That gets Znuul’s patented faux smile.

  “You may presume all you wish.”

  The three of them conference for a while. When they are done, Znuul pats me on the shoulder. “Good going. You pulled us from the void.”

  Pffif and Arix head back inside, Arix to find a room, Pffif I guess back to his.

  The quiet of the porch is nice. I review events. My succubus lost her mind. I was almost raped. My fairy thinks I did something I didn’t. Arix is back among us. We can probably find Maldgorath. I sit and take the night in. Looking down at my empty coffee mug, I figure it’s time to go to bed.

  I walk over to the sliding glass door and step inside. The first thing I see is Sheyliene sitting on one of the huge leather sofas and looking at me with daggers.

  “Arthur MacInerny, I have a bone to pick with you. Sit your butt down. We’re going to talk, now.”

  Great.

  Chapter 46

  The smell of coffee awakens me. My sleepy eyes open to see Pffiferil sitting on the sofa across from me with a steaming cup in his hands. My neck is stiff from having fallen asleep at the corner of the sofa. Sheyliene’s head is lying in my lap.

  “Morning, Pffif,” I mumble, which causes Shey to stir.

  “You two are so cute,” comes Znuul's voice.

  “They are, ain’t they?” Pffif replies.

  “So how long have you guys been sitting here?”

  “Not long,” Znuul replies. “You still look like crap. Go get some proper rest.”

  I say something witty back to him, like hmmph.

  We are joined by Sil, in human form now, wearing a silky blue robe—probably one of Kitten’s, given that’s what she considers to be her house uniform and that it is riding well above the knee. My succubus looks Shey and me over, then Pffif and Znuul. “Good morning,” she says demurely, then heads to the kitchen.

  I watch her go, and Shey nudges me. Message clear—don’t stare.

  But sometimes it’s hard not to, and in my current frame of mind, even the walls are good to stare at.

  “Thinkin’ that the sorcerer an’ I gots a good plan fer the findin’ machine. Mr. Destroyer here says he’ll be helpin’ with the gatherin’ of stuff we need.”

  I wipe some sleepy from my eye. “Where is our sorcerer?”

  “In his room,” says Znuul. “And best away from me.”

  “Bah!” shouts Pffif. “Ye be callin’ him yer brother if’n he delivers the Collector.”

  “You are a pain in my ass,” Znuul says with a raise of the eyebrow.

  Sil returns, carrying two mugs. She hands one to me and the other to Shey. “Coffee the way you like it, and tea for you, Sheyliene.” Then she rounds the table and plops down on the sofa next to Pffif.

  “She poisoned mine. Didn’t you?” Shey frowns at Sil.

  Sil just smiles and shakes her head. “Just happy not to be sent away forever and trying to say sorry for a terrible joke on you, Sheyliene.

  “Do tell,” says an energized Pffiferil. He does love a terrible joke.

  Znuul stands up. “Arthur, get some rest, then come find me. There’s a mission I need your help with. But it can wait until you’re better rested.” He looks over at Pffiferil. “A little rest wouldn’t hurt you, either.”

  Pffif toasts him with his coffee, then taps his coat where he keeps his flask.

  I think that despite this nice coffee, some extra rest would be good. I get up and excuse myself to my room. My bed is there, still made. I flop on top of it and drift off.

  Chapter 47

  I wake up and realize immediately that I’m not alone. Sil is sitting on the corner of my bed, still in human form, still in the silky tied-down robe.

  After I'm through jumping out of my skin, I figure I’ll start the conversation. “What?”

  “Nothing much, really. I just wanted to say thanks for not sending me away and for caring. That, and you’re cute when you’re asleep.”

  The whole flirt thing is lost on me, given she just showed me she can basically hijack my libido. Maybe my whole nonplussed, dead-eyed thing gave that away.

  “Sorry, but things still seem like they turned out okay,” she says quietly, yet directly.

  That they do. We have a real potential for finding Maldgorath now. All the same, I say to her, “Really not in the mood for your needy crap, Sil.”

  That gets a smile. “I know. I’m not here for that.”

  I run my fingers through my hair and swing myself out to the side of the bed. “What then?”

  “First, to say thank you. I lost my mind a bit and you came to help. Second, to let you know I think I get it now. You need to know me. So no more half-truths, no more evasions. When we get back home, I’m opening my diaries to you. They’ll tell you everything you need to know about me. Last, I promise, no more throwing myself at you. I will remind you, gently and occasionally, you’re wanted, but no more intruding on your showers, no more surprise masturbation shows. No more unwanted neuromantic attacks.”

  “No more showing up half naked on the edge of my bed?”

  That gets a deep breath and a sigh. “Half naked is not all naked. And I am not asking for your morning erection.” She looks away. “I understand I deserve that sarcasm. Don’t doubt my conviction to our family. Or you. That has nothing to do with pleasure, nothing to do with feeding my hungers. There is a whole Silithes you don’t know—but you will. Like it or not.”

  She goes to the door but stops and turns with her hand on the knob. “You and I are together forever, or until death, at least. I’ll try to earn your trust, and we’ll see what follows. I concede that just because I want, doesn’t mean you do. Your needs do come before mine. You are my Wielder
, after all.”

  With that she leaves, which makes me slightly relieved. That is, until I consider what she just said. She’s throwing the one true law out the window again—the one that dictates self before all. I take a deep breath. No telling if it’s another manipulation.

  I shower up, throw on some fresh clothes, and figure it’s time to find Z about his mission. I head over to his office and swing open the door.

  Not there.

  That means the patio. He’s there taking in the afternoon sun, sitting cross legged and looking out into the nothing. “There he is!” comes his deep bubbly voice. “Come sit.”

  I take the chair next to him. “What’s the mystery mission?”

  “Karen. It’s time she joined us.”

  “You have a plan?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Send you. That’s all. That’s all I got.”

  Chapter 48

  Apparently they have Karen holed up in Magerium headquarters, which is near the village of Strelly in the Oldmoor Woods in the UK. I agree with Znuul’s observation that it doesn’t make great sense for him to crash into a wizard stronghold warded against his kind.

  Znuul offers me his services in creating a false ID for travel. I pass. I figure being on the grid will work to grease the skids for my entry into the Magerium. In this case, it may be best if they see me coming.

  “I’ve got nothing, Arthur, and that worries me,” Znuul confides. “They have her buried deep, and I don’t trust Alistair not to harm her. Besides, we’re on the verge of finding Maldy. If we kill him and don’t include her, we’ll both pay for it dearly, over and over.”

  That may be a bit of bluster. Or maybe not far from the truth, as Karen is formidable. But still, I think this mission is more out of his concern for Karen than worries for our well-being. At least that’s how I choose to view it.

  We scope out the best flights to merry old England. The best flight is direct from Dubai to Heathrow. Kitten will drive me to the airport and I’ll buy the tickets at the counter so I can’t be tracked to Znuul’s bunker.