by Paul Sobol
“How many times do I have to tell you? Relax. I’ve been winning some of the time, like this.” Simon didn’t feel the small amount of mana channelled towards the white roulette ball, but he didn’t have to, to know his friend was using magic in order to win.
The ball bounced around normally, but at the very last moment settled on number thirty which, even to the normal eye, didn’t look exactly right. That heavy sinking feeling hit Simon squarely in the stomach, and although everyone around was rejoicing at the large win he realised they we’re now in serious trouble.
“See, we’ve made our money back.” Xander’s gloating seemed muted, drowned out by the rising terror Simon knew was irrational, but nonetheless he couldn’t help but feel impending doom fast approaching.
Before Simon could reprimand his friend for something so obviously stupid, a voice from behind called over the din, and like the Biblical Red Sea the crowd of women parted.
Startled, the two magicians slowly turned around.
“We’d like a private word with you two,” said a short, balding man in a similar suit to the security guards. While he appeared perfectly ordinary he allowed the two to catch a glimpse of his aura. Power flooded the room, and only those attuned would be able to recognise this was not someone to trifle with.
Clearly not going to argue with the man or his security guards, Simon and Xander left the table, allowing themselves to be corralled towards a set of doors marked Authorised Personnel Only. A swipe card hidden in the short man’s suit jacket gained them access, and they were hustled down a series of short corridors before arriving at a non-descript door.
Ushered inside, Simon and Xander were told to sit and wait. Upon entering the room the illusions surrounding the two magicians dissolved, and without thinking Xander tried drawing on his mana. A sudden prickling sensation washed over his entire body and instantly he let go of the mana. Powerful wards surrounded the room, and using his Mage-sight examined the room with a different perspective. The enchantments glowed like colourful neon lights, inscribed upon every surface in complex patterns that made Xander dizzy just trying to comprehend their purpose. For a brief moment fear gripped his heart and he cautiously dropped his magic-seeing vision.
As the dread slowly faded he turned to his companion and quietly asked. “What do you think they’ll do to us?”
“Hard to say,” said Simon distractedly, taking a seat at the table.
“Well they mean business. This room is heavily shielded, I wouldn’t cast a spell even to save me own life let alone get us out of here, who knows what would happen to me. We’re in so much trouble.”
“I wish I could tell you it won’t be that bad, that they’ll let us go with a slap on the wrist and a stern warning, but I got the distinct impression they don’t like magicians trying to cheat the casino. But if it makes you feel any better they may just ban us for life from every casino.”
“And I wish I had your optimism.”
Ten minutes later the door opened and two people entered. The short magician stood by the door, arms crossed as if trying to strike a menacing pose, much like a guard dog trying to scare the neighbourhood cat. While the other man, tall, skinny and wearing what appeared to be a rather expensive designer suit with matching Rolex and cufflinks took a seat opposite the young men.
“Before we begin, I am to inform you that I am a magician, however my true expertise is in law enforcement and security. I am Mr Locke. My companions and I are employed by the High Council here in the United States to ensure magicians don’t take advantage of the casinos. We are aware of every magician who enters any Las Vegas casino, which you two clearly had done, with the intention of gambling.
“But more serious than that, you did so knowing it was also illegal by human law. Together these crimes carry a maximum sentence of three years imprisonment with your magic stripped from you. Since we have hard evidence of your infraction there is no point in pleading anything other than guilty, and anything you have to contribute may increase your chances of getting a stronger sentence. Do you have anything to say in your defence?”
Xander glanced over at his companion who remained silent. He wondered if Simon was trying to contact someone, but if not then they were on their own and possibly looking at jail time. It sounded ludicrous but the suited man sitting opposite seemed very serious. Contemplating on trying to justify their actions Xander quickly discarded most of the usual excuses and unfortunately couldn’t come up with anything that sounded even remotely plausible.
Facing the reality of the situation Xander decided it may be better not to say anything for fear of making things worse for Simon and himself, but if they did nothing then their day was about to go from good to very bad.
“From your silence,” said the suited man, “I take it you’re not going to refute the charges. You will now be taken to a holding facility to await trial and final judgment on your sentence. Please, hold out your hands.”
Hesitantly the two young magicians did so, and Mr Locke placed what appeared to be a pair of bracelets on their wrists. To Xander it suddenly felt like a part of him were missing, and he realised he could no longer reach his mana. The feeling left him slightly nauseous and unexpectedly vulnerable, for without magic he was just another ordinary person.
The two were escorted from the room and through a circuitous maze of corridors until they reached a rear loading dock where a black SUV waited for them. With the two young men in the back Mr Locke took the front passenger seat while the short man drove.
In any other situation, Xander and Simon would have been excited to drive through Las Vegas and see the sights, but at the moment things were looking pretty gloomy, and for the entire trip they couldn’t help but dwell on what was going to happen to them.
Leaving the Las Vegas Strip behind, they drove through suburbia and out onto the highway which stretched off into the distance. They were soon in the open desert and the two rear passengers couldn’t help but wonder where exactly this holding facility was located. It didn’t seem likely that it would be in the middle of nowhere, but then when dealing with magicians it was hard to predict what or where they might build something.
After ten minutes the SUV turned off the highway and onto a dirt road. If it hadn’t been for good suspension the ride would have become less than tolerable, instead the passengers were merely jostled around a bit. For several hours they drove down the dusty track, past several lonely buildings where locals had unsuccessfully tried to farm years ago, and eventually even the road ended and they were on little more than a goat path.
Now Xander knew something wasn’t right. “Is there any point in asking where you’re taking us?”
“In the old days,” said Locke, without turning around, “the Mob bosses would keep the crime down in Vegas to a minimum by making examples of those who cheated the casinos. Depending on the severity of the crime you could lose a finger if you couldn’t pay a debt, broken legs if you tried leaving town, but once in a while someone needed to disappear.
“What we have here is an opportunity my young friends. See, too many of you young punks have recently come to Vegas and thought you could get away with cheating. We intend to set an example so there won’t be any more for a while, thus making our jobs easier.”
“You’re going to bury us in the desert?” Xander asked incredulously. This one little mistake was going to get the both of them killed, and without magic they were helpless as newborn kittens.
It suddenly occurred to Xander they did have a chance; if the bracelets only stopped them from drawing on mana then Simon’s psychic ability would be unaffected. But surely his friend would have done something by now, why would he let it go on for so long? One little tweak and the two security agents would be their best friends and let them go. The only reason why they were still stuck in the back of this car had to be the bracelets: they were enchanted to block even Simon’s psychic ability.
Looking closer at the band around his own wrist Xander was disappointed to find no cat
ch or release, which meant removing the anti-magical device a lot more difficult. But no matter what he tried the bracelet would not move.
Before desperation could sink in he looked about to see if anything in the back of the car could be used as leverage. But coming up with nothing Xander tried not to panic. Maybe he could reason with his captives, or perhaps bribe them, but as he thought of each possibility they were quickly discarded; the two security agents were beyond reasoning with and there was nothing he had to offer as a bribe. Even fighting them would be useless.
Looking over at his friend Simon seemed more composed. If he was troubled by this latest unfortunate twist of Fate it did not show. Perhaps, Xander thought, his friend had just accepted the inevitable already. They were going to die. Probably shot in the back of the head or worse, buried alive to suffocate.
Without warning the SUV stopped suddenly.
The moment had finally arrived, and when the doors opened the two young magicians got out. The desert heat struck them first, almost like a physical blow, followed by darkness as black hoods were pulled over their faces and their hands bound from behind. Blindly led a short distance away they were forced to their knees, the heat from the desert sand starting to penetrate through the fabric of their pants.
Sweat began to run in small rivulets from beneath the hoods, either from the heat or the obvious sense of impending death, and Xander could only curse the Fates that had brought them to this point.
“Simon.”
“What?”
“You’ve been a great friend, I’m sorry it had to end this way.”
Xander felt something hard press against the back of his head; a metallic click confirming it to be a pistol.
“No last requests before you pull the trigger?” Xander asked their captors in desperation.
“What could you possibly want at this moment?” Locke asked, his voice a little muffled by the black hood which was becoming unbearably hot to wear. “And don’t be stupid to think we’ll let you go.”
Xander didn’t really believe they had a chance, but he furiously racked his brain even if only to stall for time. “If you won’t let us go, at least remove our bracelets. If I’m going to die today I want to go out as a true magician. I challenge you to a duel to the death.”
Without warning the hoods were unceremoniously ripped off, and the two young magicians got their first look at what might end up their gravesite. By the light of the SUV’s headlamps they saw endless desert stretch out before them, undulating like ocean waves that never moved. Towards the east the horizon was changing colour as the sun slowly ascended, turning the blackness of night to a ruddy orange.
Even though the sun was not yet up the heat from the sand was unbearable, and Xander realised it would get a lot hotter quickly. The desert could just as easily claim their lives as a bullet, although the latter now seemed preferable to agonising dehydration.
The short man slowly walked around the two captives, inspecting them as though cattle ready for the market. “You’ve got courage, kid. I admire that, especially from someone freshly out of the Academy. Truth be told, I half expected you to at least beg for your lives. This once I’m glad to be disappointed. You’ll be a great magician one day, just remember a little humility, it may save your skin next time.”
Speechless, both Simon and Xander didn’t fully comprehend what the magician was saying, but eventually it dawned upon them, and they realised they weren’t going to be murdered.
“Maybe someday you’ll forgive us for this,” said Mr Locke, “but your friends in the Order thought to keep you out of further mischief. We were asked to hand you two over to your new guardians.”
“My uncle Silver put you up to this?” Xander asked incredulously. “If we’re not going back to Vegas with you then what do we do now?”
“You’re going with them,” said Mr Locke pointing out into the desert.
Barely seen on the horizon appeared a smudge. The two security agents got back into the car and drove off, leaving Xander and Simon to wait in the growing morning heat. For quite some time the smudge didn’t look to be getting any bigger, but eventually it took shape and the two magicians could see it was a large dust cloud, created by the rhythmic pounding of at least a dozen horses.
Drawing near enough to be identified, Xander saw they were native-American Indians. Not exactly what he expected from a rescue party, but it definitely beat being left alone in the middle of the desert to fry.
As the riders approached their position, Xander could tell from the long braided hair a female lead the group. Coming to a ragged halt a few feet away, the cloud of dust finally overtook the riders and rolled along the ground like mist, enveloping the two magicians. Supressing a cough, Xander squinted up at the supposed leader and made a quick assessment. Perched confidently atop her horse, the woman wore skins and moccasins similar to the men.
Where most braided their hair with feathers and bones, hers was unadorned except for the intricate braid which hung down to the small of her back. But as the sun peeked above the far off mountains of the Nevada desert Xander got a much clearer look at the woman. In fact, she was a lot younger than he first guessed, and after a quick re-evaluation he put her age in the low twenties, perhaps even closer to his own age.
At the same time, the lead rider silently appraised the two young men kneeling before her mount. The taller one seemed cocky yet self-assured, as though he could handle himself in any situation. In the early morning light she noticed him looking up at her, and in his vibrant green eyes she saw a hint of approval. Feeling a little self-conscious about a stranger’s appraisal she turned her attention to the second young man kneeling in the dust.
A bit shorter, he had a quiet unassuming air about him, as though he preferred to remain silent and observe the world around him. But it was his eyes that made him seem cold and distant; the colour or river stones they seemed to hold untold depths of mystery, as if he knew everything going on around him and was merely a spectator expecting to be entertained.
After a long interval of silence, when it seemed neither party would speak first, Xander decided to break the ice and introduced them to the group on horseback. “Hello,” he began feebly, not exactly making a great first impression he thought, but decided to forge ahead, “my name is Xander, and this is my good friend Simon. We were told to wait for you.”
The young women nodded. “I am Aiyana, daughter of Honon, he who is Hiamovi. Our chief cannot be here to offer you formal greetings as he is otherwise occupied with the birth of his son. If you will accept, I welcome you to join our tribe and ride with us.”
“We accept your invitation and would be glad to ride with you. There’s just one small problem,” said Xander holding up his bound wrists.
Aiyana made a small gesture with her right hand, and the bonds holding both magicians’ wrists parted. The anti-magical devices snapped open with a metallic click, falling to the ground with a dull thud. Freed from the restraints Xander could sense his mana once again. Glad to have access to his powers he began to feel less paranoid and more like his old carefree self. He was a little surprised Aiyana could perform magic, and wondered if she had attended the Academy or another school of magic? But something told him she was not like normal magicians, and this made him feel a little wary. He would have to be on his guard among these people, despite the fact they knew his uncle Silver and the Order.
Two saddled horses were brought forward, and sharing a brief glance with each other, the two mages warily approached the animals with a little trepidation. Riding was never covered in their classes at the Academy, and although Xander could just as easily fly overhead he chose to accept his host’s preferred method of transportation.
One of the other riders helped the two magicians with their saddles, changing the length of various straps so they wouldn’t easily fall off and have a more comfortable ride. Simon stroked the horse’s mane, softly talking to the horse. Wondering if his friend was using some kind of psychic tr
ick to calm the horse Xander felt a small stab of jealousy. His own magical repertoire, while considerable, didn’t contain any spell to befriend animals. He would just have to manage the best he can, and holding onto the reins a bit too tightly tried to use his own willpower to guide the horse.
Seeing Xander tense up, the helper offered several important tips to make the journey more pleasant, for both horse and rider. Not wanting to show his frustration, Xander complied with the instructions, and almost instantly the mount quietened down, sensing its rider was now fully in control.
“If you are ready we shall ride,” said Aiyana. Kicking her heels into her mount she led the group back the way they had come. We have some distance to travel and hopefully we can make it back in time for the birthing,”
At first riding a horse was a new and awkward experience for the two magicians, but with the easy pace set by Aiyana they quickly learned the nuances of riding without doing any lasting physical damage. Those riding with them, a combination of youths and young men, were more than eager to share their knowledge of horse riding. After a few more miles the two young men were a lot more confident in the saddle.
Glancing back to make sure her guests were alright, Aiyana kicked her mount to quicken the pace, and soon the entire group surged ahead in a gallop. Across open grasslands, the steady beating of the horses’ hooves became a deep rhythmic vibration, felt more than heard, and Xander couldn’t help but feel exhilarated as the savannah swept past and the wind whipped through his shoulder-length light brown hair. It almost felt like he was about to ride into battle against unknown forces wielding muskets and bayonets against the Indian’s tomahawks, and only sheer force of will stopped him shouting out an war-cry. Unable to wipe the smile from his face, Xander looked over at Simon, and he could tell his friend was also enjoying the experience.
Ahead the desert stretched, but on the horizon something white appeared; looking like fog at first, however Xander thought it unlikely for this arid environment. They rode unerringly towards the low lying cloud which seemed to be getting a lot closer than he expected, and then he felt a disturbance in the aether as Aiyana drew on a considerable amount of mana from the land. Within moments the group was enveloped by whiteness, and Xander had to trust his mount knew exactly where to go since visibility had dropped to almost nothing. He could barely see the rider in front.