Badger turned from glaring at Bear to answer. “Maybe, but I don’t know any. I only know yoga for my bad back. And are you even trying to shield your thoughts? That should always be your priority.”
Like me and my father before me, Badger had the ability to read people’s emotions, though he said it was much, much weaker than mine. Most mages had at least some talent at it. A companion skill was being able to shield my emotions, though I was having a harder time making it consistent. It reminded me of an observation. “I noticed today that I can’t really read the emotions of some people but I can others.”
“Crap on a cracker. Are you dating someone?”
“What? No! Why would you even ask that?” I turned away.
“Because the only reason you can’t read emotions from someone is that the bond between you is getting strong. That affects your ability to read them. Who is he?” His phone chirped again, but he ignored it.
Bear chuckled. “It could be any kind of relationship. That girl she trains with or her mom, the teacher. You told me that you’re having more trouble reading her recently, remember?” He turned to me. “Don’t let his attitude fool you. He’s fond of you, kiddo. We both are. And if you’re thinking of dating someone, just talk to us first. We want to keep you safe.”
“Thanks.” I gave them both a smile before focusing on my foot. I massaged it, working on a sore spot, while I gathered my thoughts. There was no point to discussing Vin yet. There was nothing to even say.
I hadn’t really noticed how few emotions I was picking up, since I spent every second around Bear, Badger, Vin, Auntie Ann, and Vanessa. I didn’t go out or even shop anymore. Even my groceries were delivered.
It was only when I had spent a good chunk of time in the convention hall, surrounded by people with strong emotions, that I had made the connection that I couldn’t read Vin. But it still begged one question. “Why?”
Badger shrugged. “No idea. My mother used to say that it was natural selection, that any mother that could read her child’s emotions all the time never would have any offspring that lived long enough to breed. But it’s not just reading emotions that’s affected. Many spells are adversely affected by a strong bond. There’s a whole book on the theory that love in all its forms, from friendship to mentorship to romantic love, is a base form of magic that counters many other magical spells. I gave you the book a few months ago. Haven’t you been reading?”
“When would I have time? Maybe if we didn’t train every night or if you let me tell Auntie Ann that I am training so she gave me a day off, I would have time.”
Badger’s phone chirped again, and Patagonia leapt onto the coffee table to inspect it. After a few sniffs, she batted it off the table then lay on the table in the spot the phone had occupied.
Badger bent over and picked up the phone, brushed the dust off it, and tucked it into a pocket. “No, you can’t tell them about us. We don’t know why your father hid you and what or who he feared. I want you to quit going there altogether.”
“No, they’re helping me. They already know that I didn’t know I was a mage. And they gave me all those files about my dad’s work for them. The answers could be in there.”
“They gave you what they wanted to give you. Have you found anything in them?”
After I had helped them solve a series of unexplained deaths, Olivia had given me every file the casino had on the times my father had worked for them. I had only given them a quick look because nothing stood out. “No, nothing so far, but once I have some free time to really read them over, I might. Like if you gave me a week off?”
Badger’s phone chirped. Patagonia jumped down from the table and stomped over to him to chew on the laces of his boots.
Bear stood up. “Enough. We have this argument every week, and I’m getting sick of it. Badger, will you answer the da—the darned phone, please?”
“We keep having it because you won’t back me up.” Badger pulled the phone out of his pocket, and Patagonia started crawling up his leg, reaching toward it with a paw. “Why can’t your familiar be lazy and sleep twenty-three and a half hours a day like everyone else’s? I swear this cat couldn’t be more in your face if she was a scarf. Give it here, you flea-bitten—Got it!”
I hid a chuckle as Patagonia stretched out to her full length to reach the phone but slipped and landed on the floor on her back. She narrowed her eyes at Badger then turned tail and sauntered over for a scratch. She flopped across my shin, her long, lean body looking like a big furry noodle draped over my leg. I scratched behind her ears, her purring giving me energy.
Badger snapped his ancient flip phone closed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Ella! Is there something about your day that you forgot to tell us? About a cheese convention?”
“Oh, that.” I had hoped it wouldn’t come up. “Don’t worry. They made sure that no one saw me do the reading, and they got me out of there before the marshal arrived to investigate.”
Bear came back from the kitchen with several bottles of water and tossed me one. “Why was the marshal there?”
“Because of the murder.”
Badger’s eyebrows shot up. “Murder!”
“Yes. I thought that was what you were talking about.” I unscrewed the top of my water and took a long drink.
“No, I just heard that Jake Markson had a heart attack. Who was murdered? Why didn’t I hear about it? When did it happen? How did it happen? Go on, answer.”
Bear grabbed a pillow off the couch and chucked it hard at Badger’s head, catching him in the ear. “Calm down, Badger. You’re wound up tighter than a familiar in a room full of rocking chairs. Give the girl a moment to speak.”
I gulped down my water. “Like you said, a man had a heart attack and died. They cleared the room, and Vin asked me to do a reading. I didn’t get anything on that guy, but I did pick up something. We walked around until I recognized a place, and it turned out a man had been crushed underneath Granner’s world’s largest wedge of cheese.”
Bear perked up a bit. “How far away was the murder site from where you started?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like opposite end of the convention hall. You’ve seen the convention hall at the Golden Pyramid, right?”
“Yes, it’s pretty big. You’re getting stronger to be able to pick up the murder from that far.”
“Who was the victim? And you said the marshal was there?” Badger was intense as he cross-examined me.
“Michael something. They said he had been the cheese president but stepped down. I used my abilities to check and saw that he had snuck in one night to find something, and when he went to pick up the object, he was crushed under a huge block of cheese.”
“Michael Peteman. And no one knew he was dead until then?”
“The cheese is enormous and completely hid the body underneath it. Vin had to bring in a bunch of people to flip it onto its side, and underneath, they found Michael. He was flatter than a pancake. Vin then called the marshal and told us to get out of there.”
Badger scrubbed his face. “This is bad. I want you out of there.”
“No!” I pursed my lips to hold back what I really wanted to say.
Bear interrupted the start of what was bound to be the same old fight between Badger and me. “We can’t stop you from going ,but can you at least listen to our advice?”
I softened a little. It was a reasonable request. “Fine.”
“Stay away from the marshal. He controls this area, and if he wants, he has the right to dig into who you are. That would be trouble. Just steer clear of him.”
“Vanessa couldn’t really explain what he does beyond that he’s really powerful, that he’s in charge of justice for the area we live in, and that he’s not a good dude. Why would the guy in charge of policing not be on the up and up?”
“Something I’ve wondered myself.” Bear leaned back and scratched his hairy forearm. “You’re going to stay out of this, right? We can’t make you quit, but you will be carefu
l?”
“I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
Badger stood up and grabbed a notebook to scribble in. “Fine. Then I’m going to change our training for tonight. Twenty reps of Tree pose while lighting a candle, and you will shield your mind.” He clapped his hands. “Come on. That’s just the beginning, but if we go quickly, I think we can finish by three.”
***
Racing into the Golden Pyramid the next morning, I was nursing a full-body ache that even magic couldn’t completely get rid of. I had spent an extra thirty minutes meditating and working a spell to heal my body and shield my mind. That made me late, and then the employee parking area was closed.
I pushed through the massive front doors and was practically thrown back onto the sidewalk by the intense emotions of the early-morning gambling crowd. I hadn’t gone through the main casino in months. At that time, I had been a baby in my magical abilities, catching only the edges of emotions.
I stopped at the entrance, giving the security guard I recognized a nod of acknowledgement, then took a cleansing breath. I fortified my mental shield, not just to protect my mind from being read but also to block some of the outside emotions overtaking me.
Once I felt in control again, I hitched my bag onto my shoulder and took a step, immediately stumbling over Patagonia.
I rolled my eyes. She could pop in at any point to join me, and her favorite place was two inches in front of my feet as I was walking. I loved having her around. After years of never having a pet, I couldn’t imagine being all alone again. She was a warm lump in my bed, though a bit of a cover hog. She was extremely large for a cat, but it was still amazing how much space she could take up on a king-sized bed and in front of my feet.
I walked around her, expecting her to fall into step next to me, but instead she jetted off the carpeted path and ran between two rows of computerized slot machines, their displays flashing and beeping.
“Dang it, Patagonia,” I muttered.
The slot machines, like many in the gambling city of Rambler, Nevada, were more like video games. The dials that spun consisted of animated images and characters. There were a few morning gamblers sprinkled throughout, pressing buttons on the machines. Each device had a theme, ranging from famous television shows or movies to the quite tongue-in-cheek witch-themed machines. Black cats that vaguely resembled Patagonia spun on the dials next to witches, pointed hats, pumpkins, broomsticks, and cauldrons.
Patagonia paused at the end of the aisle, her thick black tail flicking back and forth. Her eyes were narrowed as though she was frustrated with my slow pace. I trotted to catch up, but before I could, she dashed off to the right. By the time I turned the corner, Patagonia had darted around another bank of machines and disappeared.
I muttered an apology to a woman wearing a felted wedge of limburger as a hat, with authentic smell and a blue ribbon, and I slowed down rather than risk face-planting into someone. Patagonia would be fine. She wasn’t a normal cat that could be stolen or lost, and if I couldn’t find her, she would pop back to me later.
After weaving through some marine-life-inspired slot machines, I found Patagonia. Her furry body was pressed up to an elderly woman’s frame. The woman was wearing a pink checked shirt tucked into jeans. A pink leather belt with a buckle the size of a dessert plate sparkled with rhinestones, and matching pink cowboy hat and boots finished off the outfit. Her husband, at her side, had a matching pink shirt with creases so stiff they could cut a wedge of nice gouda.
I gulped hard. The couple, Gertrude and Ralph, were seers that worked for the casino. The last time I had seen them, Gertrude had had a vision that she had told me. Her advice had saved my life, but the experience had been an awful one I didn’t want to repeat any time soon. Why had Patagonia brought me here?
I turned tail to run, but before I could make it a single step, Patagonia tripped me. As I crawled back to my feet, Patagonia jumped up to put her paws on Gertrude’s thighs and rubbed her head on Gertrude’s chest.
“Patagonia. Down,” I commanded, mostly to buy time as I figured out how to calm my breathing. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Preston.”
Ralph raised a frail hand in greeting. It shook slightly, but his voice was strong. “Ella, I knew we were meeting someone this morning. I guess it’s you.”
Gertrude held out a hand to me that I wrapped in my own. “How are you doing this morning?” Her hand was bony and cold in mine.
She looked up from Patagonia, her eyes white rather than the watery blue irises I expected. This happened when she had a vision, and I bit my lower lip to keep from gasping in shock.
She reached out with her other hand, and I clasped it in mine as she leaned forward, her slight weight resting in my grip. Her hands were growing colder by the second, and I wrapped my hands around them, willing warmth into them.
When she finally spoke, her voice was hollow and sounded as though it was coming from a great distance. “You are hiding things, protecting yourself. It is important. Those that will do you harm do not know yet to look for you, but they will. You must train and be strong, so hide as long as possible.”
She gulped and gasped for air, her labored breathing loud. Ralph stroked her back and made gentle noises.
Her grip weakened, but I held on to her hands, which were so cold they burned in my own. Patagonia yowled in distress and pressed up against Gertrude.
“You must hide. You must,” she begged, tears starting to fill her blind eyes.
“I will,” I assured her.
She nodded and seemed to be calmed by my promise. Taking a gulping breath, she continued, “Follow the old ways, the narrow path. It will give you the protection you need. The old ways.”
“The old ways” and “narrow path” were phrases that I had seen mentioned in a few books I had skimmed, but the exact meanings were unknown to me. They related to a style of training or lifestyle or maybe an attitude. I would dig out a book tonight to read up on it.
“Okay, Gertrude, I will.”
Her hands shook slightly as she exhaled and screwed her eyes shut.
Patagonia stopped meowing and came to my side, and Gertrude opened her eyes, the irises back in place and her pupils wide. She blinked hard several times as she adjusted to the bright flashing lights of the slot machines.
Ralph took her hands from mine and looked into her eyes. “How you feeling, Gertie?”
“Oh… I’m very tired, and I don’t remember clearly. Was it what I feared?”
“No, dear, but you did tell her to follow the old ways.”
She turned to me. “And you will listen, won’t you? You must.”
I patted her shoulder, which was angular and bony under her cotton shirt. “Yes, yes. Are you okay?”
“Just very, very tired. The visions have been coming more often, and they wear me out. I will speak with you soon, but I must rest. Please do heed the warning. One of my girls had a similar warning, and she didn’t listen.” Tears spilled out of her eyes and followed the wrinkles in her pale skin down to her chin, where they dropped off.
“There, there, Gertie. Ella will listen, won’t you, dear?” He nodded at me, encouraging me to answer in agreement.
“Uh, yes, of course. You can see the future and give me advice. Why would I ignore that?” I was slightly off balance, probably due to the adrenaline coursing through my system. The rest of the casino had faded away during her vision, but now everything was too bright and loud. I really wanted a few minutes to sort through my feelings.
“We’ll go home and rest today, but very soon we will meet with Ella to talk about things. Give her some advice. Come on, Gertie.” He turned her and started to slowly walk away but hesitated. Turning back over his shoulder he addressed me again. “This has brought up some bad memories for us.” His voice was sad and heavy with meaning I could only guess at.
“Wait. Let me help you.” I started after them, but Patagonia hooked her claw into my jeans pantleg and the calf beneath it.
Ralph ges
tured to a young man. “No, go on. Gertie needs to rest, and we have help.” The young man offered an arm to Gertrude. He was unspectacular in every way and blended into the background so seamlessly that I was unsure if he had always been nearby or had just appeared. “Remember that visions are just for the recipients.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I shivered as I packed another tote and set it on the pile on the table. Since I had spoken to Gertrude and Ralph, I hadn’t been able to shake the cold that permeated my bones. My hands especially were stiff and white. Patrons of the cheese festival were crowded outside the entrance, and as I wove through the crowd, I had picked up snippets and whispers of discussion. The heart attack and subsequent murder discovery had been on most tongues.
But that hadn’t been the only topic being discussed; ripples of fear had danced around one group as they discussed the marshal and his “goons,” though they changed the topic once I was close. And several times, I heard Granner mentioned, sometimes mixed with annoyance or a flair of suspicion. But in general, the crowd had mostly been filled with curiosity—and hunger, of course—as they waited for the show to open.
Unable to locate Auntie Ann or Vanessa, I debated poking around the convention, possibly to run into Vin. But when I caught a glimpse of the marshal entering, I turned around and went back to the room to stuff more totes. Given our failure to finish the bags yesterday, they would be needed.
In the quiet of the room, I had nothing to do but ponder the message I’d received from the seers. I had tried to search online but already knew I wouldn’t find anything. Mages had not embraced the World Wide Web. I couldn’t discuss the vision itself with anyone for fear that I would affect the future, but I could maybe find a casual way to discuss what it meant to follow the old ways.
Patagonia jumped into my lap and pressed her face against mine, a sure sign that she knew I was in deep thought. She needed the comfort, and frankly, so did I. I finished the last tote and pushed back from the table to focus on Patagonia and all the little areas on her that needed some scratching attention.
Which Mage Moved the Cheese? Page 4