Mist and Magic

by Lindsay Buroker

  Julie had more or less requested that. Even though they didn’t know the full truth about what had happened, Michael’s family had been flinty to me at the funeral. I’d spent most of it standing in the rain under an umbrella, feeling lonelier than I’d ever been and like more of a failure than I’d ever been. I didn’t know if I needed a long vacation, where I’d try to forget everything that had happened this month, or a new job to distract me from it all. It was possible neither would work.

  Not bothering with an umbrella, I let the rain hit me on the head as I walked inside. Willard was in her office. She still didn’t have an assistant for the outer desk.

  As I stepped inside, I looked warily around for police officers prepared to step out and cuff me. But she was the only one there, sitting behind her desk and typing on the computer. A manila folder rested on the corner next to an enormous cup of coffee. Rainwater slithered down the back of my neck.

  “Hey,” I said warily.

  “Hey?” Her eyebrows rose. “You’d think someone who was in the military for ten years would address an officer by rank.”

  “You used my grenades. I thought we were friends now.”

  “I am your potential employer debating on offering you a contract.” Willard pressed a finger to the folder.

  “Oh? I thought you might have called me in to have me arrested.”

  “Have you committed a crime?”

  “I am the reason crimes have been committed.”

  “Then maybe you should renew your devotion to tracking down criminals who’ve raped, killed, and plundered. Some people need to walk in the dark, so others can live in the light. You seem to get that.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  She tapped the folder. “I’m authorized to pay you what Hobbs paid you. You interested?”

  “Yes.” I gazed at the folder without stepping forward, half-expecting another trap to spring. It wasn’t as if I’d done anything that should have changed Willard’s opinion of me. If anything, she ought to think I was more of a loose cannon than before. The only good thing that had come out of our adventure was that the vampire was dead, and the tiger was in the hands of someone who wouldn’t send him out to kill innocent people. “What’s changed?”

  “When we first met, I thought you were a reckless vigilante and a sarcastic smartass who would be obnoxious to work with.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m sure of it.”

  I snorted. “Great.”

  “I’m still going to offer you work when I have it, because you’re good at what you do, you’re decked out like a battleship, and I think you care about doing the right thing.”

  “I do.”

  “Good.”

  I stepped forward and picked up the folder. No traps sprang. I guess I shouldn’t have expected them. Willard had helped me out of a trap, not driven me into one.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get around behind them in time to stop them from killing your friend,” she said, her voice softening.

  “Thanks,” I rasped, emotion forming a knot in my throat. “The funeral sucked.”

  “They usually do.” She stuck out her fist, and I remembered my joke about fist bumps.

  We cracked knuckles, and I walked out with the folder under my arm. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the clouds. It seemed like the first time in ages that it hadn’t been foggy or rainy. It wasn’t enough to lift my spirits, and I would regret Michael’s death for a long time, but at least I had a job and a path forward.

  When I reached the Jeep, I read the file, then touched the new feline-shaped charm around my neck and summoned the big silver tiger.

  Mist formed at my side, and he coalesced in it, the green eyes that gazed at me statelier than those of the cub, but similar in many ways.

  “I’ve got a mission to track down some orcs who are stealing people from a corn maze out in Snohomish and ransoming them to their families for money—and killing them if the ransoms aren’t paid.” I opened the door, put the seats down because he looked far too huge to sit on them, and stepped aside. “You interested in hunting them down?”

  You possess my figurine now. You can command me to do whatever you wish.

  “I’d rather have a willing partner who does what he wishes.”

  He gazed at me, and I expected him to tell me he wished to be left alone.

  “I’m going to be working on saving people’s lives and killing bad guys going forward. Atoning for my sins or something. I thought you might be interested in doing the same.” I arched my eyebrows. I’d gotten the impression that he hadn’t been pleased to be used by the ogre and the vampire.

  He regarded me for a long minute, then sprang into the Jeep, crouching low to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. I will accompany you.

  “Good.” I went around to the driver’s seat, then laughed because I couldn’t see anything out the rearview mirror. He was bigger than a dog. A lot bigger. “Is the cub doing okay? Did you take her back to her mother?”

  Yes. She is well. Her mother was pleased at her safe return and very angry at me for having taken her.

  “Will she forgive you?”

  Perhaps in time. Not all of my kind are bound by statuettes, but enough are that all understand. The tiger tilted his big silver head. The mother was perplexed that the cub returned with a gray fabric band in her mouth.

  “That’s probably the piece of my seatbelt she chewed off when I wasn’t looking.” Impressive that she’d taken it with her. “I hope she appreciates the memento.”

  When last I saw her, she was using it for a tug game with her siblings.

  I smiled, sad that she was gone but glad she had gotten to go back to her normal life and her family.

  The tiger’s nostrils twitched. Your conveyance smells abysmal.

  “Willard said it stunk back there, so I got this at the car wash.” I pointed at a yellow pine-tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. “It’s Vanillaroma.”

  It’s unacceptable.

  “The other option is…” I fished in the glove compartment and pulled out a blue tree still in the wrapper. “Caribbean Colada.”

  Dreadful. I can smell it through the plastic.

  “Look, tiger, atonement isn’t easy.” I turned the key in the ignition. “If you want, I can stop and get you some cotton balls to stuff in your nostrils.”

  My name is Sindari Dargoth Chaser the Third, Son of the Chieftain Raul, Feared Stalker and Hunter of the Tangled Tundra Nation on Del’noth.

  I was about to say I was honored that he’d given me his name, but he wrinkled his nose, reached over with his paw, and pressed the button for the automatic window. He stuck his head out and made a gagging noise. It seemed I’d gotten a magical tiger with a flair for melodrama.

  “Can I call you Sindari?”

  Yes.

  “I’m Val.”

  Take us to the orcs, Val. I will instruct you on how to insert small dreadfully scented trees into their nostrils.

  “That should defeat them handily.”

  I have no doubt.

  THE END

  Thank you for checking out Mist and Magic!

  If you would like to read more adventures with Val and her new tiger companion, Sindari, please check out the Death Before Dragon series. Her life gets even more interesting when dragons start visiting Earth, including one who is very haughty, arrogant, and wants to use her to further his plans. Book 1 is Sinister Magic.