Now is not the time. Tapestry is liable to blow a gasket if we stay in their presence for much longer.
“Time to go,” he said. He took Tapestry by the arm and, using his powers, began wind running out of the ballroom. Tapestry struggled a little, not letting up until they were in the elevator and headed back up to their hotel room.
“What the heck is wrong with you?” she snapped.
Malcolm shrugged.
“I guess I don’t want to die?” he suggested. “I know, it’s truly a horrible character flaw.”
Tapestry sniffed a couple of times and literally turned up her nose.
“You smell like perfume again,” she said.
“You keep bringing that up like it should matter,” said Malcolm. “Our marriage is a ruse, Tapestry, why do you care?”
Tapestry rolled her eyes. The elevator stopped at their floor, and she took off down the hallway, leaving him to trail behind.
Malcolm entered their room to find her digging through her suitcase, pulling out her pistol along with several clips of ammo. He cautiously closed the door and crouched down next to her.
“You aren’t doing this,” he said. “They know we’re here now, Tapestry. They’ll see us coming.”
“This is an opportunity,” said Tapestry. “I don’t care that much about Golden Joab, Malcolm, but if we can take out two of Rain Dancer’s allies and deny him from recruiting one more, we can put serious pressure on him.”
She started to stand up. Malcolm grabbed her by the wrist.
“No,” he said, firmly.
Tapestry glared at him.
“Just whose side are you on, anyway?”
She shook his grip loose and stomped toward the door. Lacking any better options, Malcolm reached out with Fantasy’s power, trying to use an illusion in the same way she had.
This is… harder than she made it seem.
Tapestry stopped a foot from the door. Malcolm grimaced in concentration, using all his focus to will the room’s exit out of existence, replacing it with a smooth wall.
“What did you just do?” snapped Tapestry.
“I stole… the illusion spryte’s power,” he said. “And on top of that… I have an idea.”
Tapestry walked back over to him. She set the gun down on the night stand and crossed her arms.
“I’ll hear you out,” she said. “But if it’s no good, we go after those sprytes. Tonight, without any more waiting.”
“Why are you so blood thirsty?” asked Malcolm.
Tapestry’s scowl deepened.
“I think a better question is why you’re so insistent on us not fighting them,” she said. “How is this any different from us going after Rain Dancer? Or your brother?”
Malcolm tensed up at the mention of Danny. He looked at Tapestry, and could tell from her reaction that she already knew she’d made a mistake by bringing him up.
The only reason I fought against Danny was because he was hurting innocent people. And that’s also why I gave him that money…
“Maybe,” said Malcolm. “Just maybe… There’s a better approach than searching through a hotel, guns out, and starting a fight that could get innocent people hurt? Do you think that might be a possibility, Tapestry?”
She didn’t say anything. Malcolm picked up her pistol and made sure the safety was on.
“Golden Joab will be doing his performance tomorrow,” said Malcolm. “He still, in all likelihood, doesn’t know that we’re here. Or that the sprytes are here.”
“That’s an assumption,” said Tapestry.
“It’s a reasonably fair assumption,” said Malcolm. “If he knows, then he’s already fled from the hotel, probably. I think he’ll be there, tomorrow night, and we’ll have a chance to make contact with him.”
“You mean a chance to capture him,” said Tapestry. “That’s essentially what Savior sent us here to do.”
“Golden Joab only matters if he’s actually gifted,” said Malcolm. “If he’s just a regular magician, he’s no good to the Champion Authority or Rain Dancer.”
Tapestry nodded.
“So… how do we know for sure?” she asked.
“We’ll be in the audience,” said Malcolm. “And we’ll find out how he really does his tricks.”
“You think it’s going to be that simple?” asked Tapestry. “A world famous magician, and we’ll be able to just… figure out how he does his tricks.”
“He’ll pick a volunteer from the crowd at some point,” said Malcolm. “And we need to make sure that volunteer is you.”
Tapestry nodded slowly.
“The thing is,” continued Malcolm. “There’s going to be loads of attractive women in the audience. And plenty of them will probably, well, you know...”
“I know what?” asked Tapestry, in a sharp voice.
“They’ll have certain impressive assets...” Malcolm cupped his hands in front of his chest suggestively. He saw the look on Tapestry’s face and winced, knowing that he was digging his own grave. “Or, uh, I just mean you won’t be able to hold attention the same way they can…”
I think I just made it worse, if that was possible.
“You’d better be going somewhere with this,” said Tapestry, teeth gritted.
“Golden Joab, from what little I’ve seen of him, seems like the kind of guy who’d pick an attractive woman to be his volunteer,” said Malcolm, quickly. “Unless… there’s someone who took priority over even the hottest woman there. Someone who would immediately melt the hearts of the crowd and Golden Joab.”
Tapestry was clearly at the end of her patience. Malcolm held up a finger for her to hold on for just a little longer.
“So, this is where Fantasy’s power comes into play,” said Malcolm. “I’ll use it to disguise you as… a cancer patient.”
CHAPTER 22
“That is the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm frowned.
I was sure that she’d go for it…
“What’s the issue?” asked Malcolm. “Sure, I’d have to make you look bald, from the chemo, but it would only be a temporary illusion.”
“Stop talking,” said Tapestry. “God, I forget how young you are, sometimes.”
Malcolm felt a little offended by that, but tried to play it off with a shrug.
“Fine,” said Malcolm. “And I suppose you have a better idea?”
Tapestry nodded.
“The simplest is usually the best plan,” she said. “All we need to do is show up, watch Golden Joab’s show, and wait.”
“That’s your plan?” asked Malcolm. “That’s… not even a plan!”
“Rain Dancer’s sprytes are probably working on their own convoluted scheme,” said Tapestry. “All we need to do is wait for them to make a move, and take advantage of whatever mistake they end up making.”
“You’re assuming they’ll be obvious about it.”
“They aren’t here to have a conversation with the man,” said Tapestry. “Based off what you’ve told me about Rain Dancer’s methods, they’ll be interested in trying to turn him into a monster.”
“Probably,” said Malcolm.
“So unless he’s onboard with that, he’s going to struggle,” said Tapestry. “We watch, we wait, and we swoop in and save the day.”
“That… actually sounds like it might work,” he admitted.
Tapestry smiled.
“I’ve learned a thing or two over the years,” she said.
Shortly after, the two of them turned in to bed. The night was uneventful, and Malcolm woke up the next morning feeling alert and ready for action. He took a shower, and spent most of the day working over the fine details of the streamlined plan with Tapestry.
They still needed Fantasy’s power, though only to disguise themselves enough to avoid being recognized by the sprytes. Malcolm made himself look older, adding wrinkles to his face and turning his hair grey.
He took his time with Tapestry, trans
forming her into a gorgeous redhead, and enhancing both the size of her bust and butt.
“This isn’t necessary, is it?” she asked him, eyeing her newly expanded cleavage with obvious skepticism.
“We have to make sure that we look different enough to slide under the radar,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry shook her chest from side to side, getting a sense of how her new boobs jiggled. Malcolm watched with wide eyes, unable to hide the glee in his eyes over his handiwork.
“Really?” asked Tapestry. “Big breasts have that much of an effect on you?”
“…Sorry, did you say something?”
Tapestry punched him on the arm.
“I couldn’t imagine trying to move and fight with this much extra weight on my chest,” she said.
Rose has pretty big breasts, and seems to make it work alright.
He almost said it out loud, only stopping himself at the last second. Thinking about Rose made him anxious, given what was to come that night. Tapestry would have her gun on her this time. What would Malcolm do if she took aim at Rose? Would he stop her from firing, even if it meant abandoning their mission?
He put the questions on the back burner, focusing his concentration on finishing the illusions, instead. It wasn’t hard to keep them active, though he could sense that his level of sophistication would be limited compared to what he’d seen of Fantasy’s work.
In fact, Malcolm doubted he could use the illusions for anything other than disguise, and possibly making a door or hallway disappear, if he put all his energy into it.
“We should get going,” said Tapestry. It was already late in the afternoon. They’d spent the entire day in their hotel room, taking both breakfast and lunch in their room.
“There’s still half an hour until the show starts,” said Malcolm.
“We want to get good seats,” said Tapestry. “Ones that will let us keep an eye on anyone suspicious, while still giving us mobility.”
The two of them took the elevator down to the lobby. Malcolm was a little struck by the looks Tapestry received from people on the way by, and from the look on her face, so was she.
“Did you really make me that much more attractive?” she whispered.
“I think it’s your… red hair,” said Malcolm.
Definitely the boobs.
Golden Joab’s show was being held in the Hawktail Theater. It was free admission, and people were already being let inside. Malcolm and Tapestry found their seats over on the right hand side of the aisle, close enough to get up on stage quickly, and angled so they could see most of the audience without much trouble.
“I think this is the first evening date I’ve taken you on,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry frowned at him.
“I know you’re joking, but just so you know, this definitely isn’t a date,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm made a show of shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
“You’re just with me for my money,” he said. “What’s a poor old man like me to do?”
The crowd filed into the theater slowly, until almost all the seats were packed with people. It was impossible to even guess at who Rose and Fantasy might have disguised themselves as, but Malcolm tried to, anyway.
He went based off height, ruling out children and the unusually tall. He couldn’t just assume that the two sprytes were disguised as women, though it was tempting. There were so many potential suspects that he had to give up after only a couple of minutes.
“We’ll just have to watch Golden Joab,” said Malcolm. “And hope that they make the first move.”
“Trust me,” said Tapestry. “They will. We just have to wait and be patient.”
The audience finished taking their seats, and music began playing over the theater’s speakers as the lights dimmed. It was the same over the top techno song from the night before, only this time, accompanied by clouds of off smelling fake smoke coming from the stage.
“He’s been called many things over the course of his life,” boomed a voice. “Leader. Visionary. Role Model. Satanist. Suspect. Daddy… But tonight, you’ll be calling him WOW!”
The song reached the drop. Golden Joab appeared onstage, down on one knee in the smoke, slowly standing to his feet like a hero in an action movie. He held his arms out to the side, slowly dancing to the music with nebulous, uncoordinated movements.
The music stopped, and a spotlight snapped on over Golden Joab.
“Are you all ready to see some… magic?”
Cheers came from the crowd. Malcolm watched, amused and apprehensive.
CHAPTER 23
“Folks, I’ve been all over the country,” said Golden Joab. “I’ve learned the secrets of the best and boastiest magicians out there. But it wasn’t until I found myself… found the courage in my own big, bleeding, bloody, tortured heart… That I really started doing magic.”
He was wearing a black suit with a black bowtie, and took a moment to press his hand into his heart theatrically. When he pulled it back, his hand was covered in blood.
“Oh no,” said Golden Joab. “It looks as though you’ve caught me red handed, pouring my heart out. Or… have you?”
He spun in a circle. Smoke erupted from his feet. Malcolm could see him rushing to pull something out of his jacket as he turned.
When the smoke cleared, he showed the crowd his hand again. Most of the red was gone, but there were still a few dots of it near his wrist. The audience broke out into tepid applause.
“Thank you, thank you,” said Golden Joab, grinning. “But really, we’re just getting started. All you need to do is sit back, relax, and let my magic rock… your… world.”
He accentuated each of the last three syllables with a thrust of his crotch. Malcolm wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“This seems like the kind of magic show you’d put on, if you had the talent,” whispered Tapestry.
“That’s not even funny,” he replied.
“When were you born?” Golden Joab had moved onto his next joke, and was calling out into the crowd. “1986? How about you? 1997? Jesus you’re young! Let’s try one more… 1982, you said? Oh, well… if only we had a birthday cake for you!”
A quiet voice from the crowd responded with something about how they weren’t actually born on the current day in 1982, but Golden Joab was already back in flow. He slapped his hands together, grunted, and then revealed a mostly crumpled cupcake with a barely legible “1982” written on it with frosting.
“There you go,” said Golden Joab, throwing the cupcake into the crowd. “Magic!”
He moved through several other tricks, which went only slightly more smoothly than the first few. He made a deck of cards explode into flames, singeing the sleeve of his jacket in the process. He made a five-dollar bill appear out of thin air, followed by “making it rain” with more money from overhead, along with a wristwatch, for whatever reason.
“Now,” said Golden Joab. “Time to get into the… real magic.”
From the suitcase onstage next to him, he pulled out an oversized top hat. He turned it toward the crowd, making a show of it being empty, and then set it upside down on the ground, so he could reach into it.
“It’s totally empty, right?” asked Golden Joab. “Wrong! There’s something in this hat. Something that will make you question your sanity, and perhaps reality itself.”
He reached into the top hat, swirled his hand around momentarily, and pulled out a small, white rabbit.
“Where did the rabbit come from, is probably the question you’re asking yourself right now,” said Golden Joab. “A better question would be…”
He reached into the hat.
“…Where did the other rabbit come from?”
He pulled out another rabbit and lifted his eyebrows in triumph.
10 for the trick. 0 for originality.
“There must be something special about this hat, huh?” asked Golden Joab. “Perhaps I should… take a look inside, and see what it is?”
A couple of seconds went by. People started muttering in the audience. The door in the back of the theater opened, and the spotlight panned to illuminate the new arrival. Golden Joab pumped his fist in the air in triumph, and then bowed to the crowd.
“That was quite the trick,” whispered Tapestry.
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“I can’t help but feel that something seems off about this,” he said. “If he was really gifted, all of his tricks would have that same level of mystery to them.”
Golden Joab made his way back to the stage amid thunderous applause. He basked in it, grinning at the crowd and nodding. Finally, the theater quieted and the show continued.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Golden Joab. “You’re thinking, Joab, you just have an identical twin who also has a passion for magic! Well… that’s where you’re wrong. And to prove it, I’m going to make one of you… disappear!”
He gestured, throwing both hands to the side.
“I’ll need a volunteer, of course.”
At least a hundred hands shot up into the air instantly. Malcolm elbowed Tapestry until she sighed and put her hand up.
It’s worth a shot. If he does pick her, we might be able to do this easily.
“How about… you?” Golden Joab pointed to someone on the side of the crowd. “No, no, not you. Her.”
He pointed again, gesturing to a specific woman who stood up and looked around in surprise. The crowd cheered as the woman walked down the aisle. She was pretty, with Asiatic features and a surprisingly heavy amount of makeup. Malcolm frowned, a sudden thought taking hold in his head.
“If Golden Joab isn’t gifted,” he whispered. “Then he might have someone helping him, either backstage, or in the crowd.”
Tapestry raised an eyebrow.
“And you think that woman…?”
Malcolm examined her more closely.
Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Page 45