Wizard in a Witchy World

by Jamie McFarlane

  I stepped away from the table and stared at her. "You're right, I don't. You're not leaving me another choice. You and your employees have done nothing but threaten, assault and ask questions that no self-respecting wizard would ever answer. I came here out of respect and you've shown me none. I'm a simple guy and I can see where this is going. We might as well get right to it."

  She stood to block my way and I brushed past her, grabbing the handle of the door to the room.

  The last thing I heard was 'Don't…' as the knob transferred a metric crap-ton of energy into my hand.

  ULTIMATUM

  I woke up in the dark on a cold, hard surface. It was impossible to tell what time it was or how long I’d been out. The first thing I noticed, aside from a pounding headache, was that all of my jewelry had been removed. The smell of urine, sweat and mold permeated the room and a stream of water was running nearby.

  "Silici Scintillam Excudit," I said, holding my right hand away from my body.

  A glowing ball of flame hovered over my palm, illuminating the room. The space was small, roughly six by eight feet. The walls were made of granite blocks and the only exit was a heavy wooden door with a small window blocked by iron bars. I'd been tossed in a real, live dungeon.

  I ran my hand across the cot, checking the mattress. It wasn't good. Whoever'd tossed me on the ground might have done me a favor. Nope. After sitting on the cold, stone floor for the last few minutes, I realized even a dirty mattress would be more comfortable.

  To extinguish the light, all I needed to do was close my hand. My eyes adjusted to the pitch black cell, but and I looked out through the iron bars on the door. A small amount of light glinted off free flowing water that ran along a stream bed only a few feet from my cell.

  "Altum Visu." I waved my hand in front of my vision, pulling up my view of the mystic plane. The door showed almost no energy and I got a strong sense of iron. It was good composition for us magical types. Iron was an energy sink and while it didn't cause direct problems, I had very little in my arsenal that would do much to an iron core door. That said, it also wasn't booby-trapped and I didn't have to worry about getting laid out by it.

  I reignited my small flaming ball and tried to send it through the iron bars. I hadn't expected it to be wildly successful, but was disappointed when it extinguished before making it through. Such was the nature of iron.

  Apparently, I'd caught someone’s attention and heavy footfalls of something big approached. Out of a sense of self preservation, I backed away from the door. A face appeared through the bars. It was the troll woman from the forest in full form.

  "Heya, hot stuff," I said.

  The sound of a heavy club hitting the door reverberated through the cell and she spoke to me in her gravelly voice. While the phonemes didn't line up with any words I recognized, the message was clear - I was to stay away from the door.

  "What a lovely singing voice you must have," I said, quoting one of my favorite movies. "Now, listen up Drusilla or whatever your name is. You better get someone down here who can talk to me before I start tearing this cell apart."

  She hit the door again with her club, growled something unintelligible, and stalked off.

  With my view of the mystic plane, I determined that only the door and its hinges were made of iron. The rest of the walls were granite stone block. In that my primary competence as a wizard was earth magic, there were some things I could do. A stone cell wouldn't hold me forever. That said, I wasn't interested in tipping my hand just yet.

  About an hour later, after I'd done my best to clean off the filthy mattress, I heard a door open at what I estimated to be forty yards away. The dungeon had otherwise been quiet and as far as I could tell, I was its only inhabitant.

  I hadn't released my view of the mystic plane, mostly because it was otherwise entirely pitch black and I didn't feel like holding the little flame ball forever. As it was, I was able to - sort of - see through the walls. My view was far from perfect, but two people were coming my way. One figure lit up like a Christmas tree and the other, not nearly as bright. The second figure was a woman and her power signature felt familiar, although I wasn't sure why.

  Keys jangled as they were inserted into the door.

  "Finis," I whispered, dropping my planar view.

  The door swung open and the bright light of an electric lantern illuminated the cell. The woman entered first, but her face was in shadow and all I could make out was a dark cloak. I held up my hand to shield my face and blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness.

  "I can't leave you alone for even a minute."

  The woman's voice belonged to Gabriella and my heart did a little leap of joy. I wanted to say something snarky, but all I felt was relief that it was someone I knew.

  "Oh, hey. Were we doing dinner tonight?" I asked.

  She pulled the hood of her cloak back, revealing her smiling face.

  "You're such a smart ass," she said. "You want to get out of here?"

  "I was just trying to decide if I was going to have to tear this place down or not," I said, only half joking.

  Her face turned serious and she looked around, but Amak had hooked the lantern on the door and disappeared. "Don't even joke about that. You've freaked out enough people for one day."

  "How so? They're the ones who booby-trapped the doors," I said.

  "Would you like legal representation?" she asked.

  I looked quizzically at her. "Do I need it?"

  "How much are you enjoying the dungeon?"

  "I'd sure like a lawyer," I said, nodding enthusiastically.

  "I thought you might," she said. "Amak, Mr. Slade and I will be meeting with Camille and Felicia."

  The troll woman stepped into view as if she’d been listening from the hallway. She had transformed back into her more human-looking form. "Very well, Ms. Valverde," she said, glowering at me.

  Amak turned away from the cell and disappeared. This time I could hear her shuffling off. I exited the cell behind Gabriella and we walked along a rough passage cut from the rock cavern we were in. A small stream trickled along, paralleling our path. But after a few steps, the stream turned back toward the path and disappeared under a wooden bridge.

  "Are we still at 1100 Jackson?" I asked.

  We were walking single file and Gabriella looked over her shoulder as she spoke. "No. We're offsite at the council's headquarters."

  "How long was I out?" I asked.

  "No idea, but you and I had coffee yesterday," she said.

  I suddenly became concerned about how I might look. Surely, I'd had to use the restroom at least once in that period of time. I sniffed the air and the only thing I could pick up on was the musky dungeon smell and the pleasant scent of Gabriella's perfume. I surreptitiously used my hands to try to discover if bad things had happened and was relieved not to find anything.

  We exited the dungeon into a more modern looking room. It, at least, had bright white paint on the walls and an elevator opposite the heavy wooden and iron door we'd just passed through. The brighter light gave me my first clear view of my rescuer. Her cloak was deep crimson and I laughed softly to myself. I'd yet to see her not wearing something red. The laugh earned me a questioning look from Gabriella as the elevator moved upward unsteadily.

  Gabriella and I followed Amak out of the elevator and down the hall until she walked through a set of glass doors on the right. She stopped and held the door, clearly wanting us to walk through. As I passed her, Amak growled a quiet warning. "I've got your number, witch."

  I turned back to her, not willing to let it slide. "Fee-fi-fo-fum to you, too."

  She glared at me as the door shut between us.

  "What was that about?" Gabriella asked.

  "We have history," I said.

  She shook her head as she led me through the hallway of a beautifully maintained, Victorian mansion.

  "I've requested a meeting with Camille Parasyn. She's the leader of the Witches' Counci
l as well as the Illuminaire coven. She's a very powerful witch. I'd recommend not trying to piss her off," Gabriella said.

  "It'd be nice if I were afforded the same consideration. So far, I've been treated more like a piñata by Leotown," I said.

  "Yes, you have, Mr. Slade. On behalf of Leotown, I apologize for the rough treatment you've received while in our care."

  We'd just entered an office where three women were seated. I recognized Straightrod and Gabriella's coven leader, Felicia, as I entered. The third woman I assumed was Camille Parasyn. For such a powerful witch, she was diminutive in size, probably weighing no more than ninety pounds and well under five feet tall.

  As she crossed the office, power radiated from her. It was a neat trick, one that I hoped was intentionally created and not because she had so much power that it just rolled off. She extended her hand and since I wasn't the type to hold grudges, I accepted. Her grip was firm but nothing excessive. I appreciated that she made no attempt to read my blood and I relaxed … slightly.

  "It is nice to meet you," I said politely.

  "You as well, Mr. Slade. Not to sound indelicate, but I'm going to release a minor spell that was cast on you and you'll have an immediate desire to find a restroom. It is directly behind you and to your left," she said, pointing.

  I raised an eyebrow and as I did, she incanted, "Finis."

  I was impressed. Spells like that were more my forte, not typically used by any witch I’d ever known. My stream of thought, at that moment, was interrupted with the worst possible I-have-to-do-the-needful feeling I'd ever had. I turned abruptly and did my best not to duck-walk my way to the restroom Camille had thoughtfully located for me.

  A few minutes later, I exited the restroom and heard laughter from the office where I'd left Gabriella and the other witches. I could only imagine what they were talking about, but I would do my best to maintain my dignity.

  "Very well. Mr. Slade, please join us." Camille pointed to a chair next to the table where she sat with the other witches. She poured a glass of water and slid it and a manila envelope in front of me.

  "Thank you," I said, opening the envelope and discovering my jewelry. As I pulled them from the envelope, I could feel they'd been drained.

  "The big question we've been tossing around is just who is Felix Slade and why is he in Leotown?" Camille said. "Would you care to shed any light on that?"

  "First question is a lot harder than the second," I replied. "I'm in Leotown because I needed a new home and it's familiar. I grew up not far from here, moved away and now I'm back. As for who I am …" Gabriella laid her hand on my arm causing me to pause and look at her.

  "As legal counsel, I need to let you know that you are under no compulsion to reveal your lineage," she said.

  I watched for Felicia’s reaction. As far as I could tell, Gabriella had just stepped between me and the ruling elite of Leotown. For her part, Felicia was nonplussed.

  "That's not what Straightrod said," I said, looking directly at the woman.

  "I merely asked about your lineage. It was up to you to answer," she retorted.

  "Not necessarily our finest moment," Camille said. "Liise may be a bit zealous, but she does a great job at keeping us all in line."

  I was annoyed at how easily Camille dismissed Straightrod's abusive approach and it must have shown on my face.

  "Now, now, Mr. Slade. Look at it from Liise's side. She had been asked to register an unknown witch. It wasn’t until later that she discovered you were no witch at all. It's a delicate situation to say the least," Camille said. "You seem a bottom-line kind of man, so I'll cut to the chase. We need to know if you're going to be a problem."

  It wasn't a question, so I just looked back at her. It started to become uncomfortable after a few minutes had passed. Gabriella prodded. "Felix?"

  "I didn't hear a question. More accurately, I don't know how to answer because I don't know what you define as a problem," I said. "If by being a problem, you mean following strange men who are tracking women without their knowledge, then the answer would be yes. Or if you mean picking herbs on public lands, again, there's a good chance of it. Otherwise, I'm not sure what you mean. I can tell you that I don't have a dungeon where I'll throw people who I find annoying." I looked at Straightrod pointedly when I finished the statement. "Can you enlighten me as to what you mean by being a problem?" I asked, switching my gaze back to Camille.

  She didn’t flinch. "I'll make it simple. We'd like you to register as an unclassified supernatural. And with that, you will agree to submit to the authority of the Greater Leotown Witches' Council in matters involving the supernatural within Leotown."

  "If I don't?" I asked.

  "We'll ask you to leave in the politest manner which achieves that objective," she said.

  "If I understand this correctly, you're asking me to submit to the authority of your council. A council at which I have no representation. You do remember how the United States came into being, right?" I asked.

  "See what I told you?" Straightrod said, uncontrollably. "He is impossible."

  "No, Liise. That’s a legitimate point and I'm surprised it hasn't been brought up before," Camille said. "Unfortunately, it's not the type of thing we can solve while we're sitting here and it doesn't resolve our problem."

  "I have no idea what I'd be submitting to," I said.

  The phone on Camille's desk rang. She looked at it with an uncharacteristically concerned look.

  "I believe you have retained counsel who is intimately familiar with our laws and could explain this to you. But, for sake of clarification, I can hit some of the highlights. First, as an unclassified super, you have no right to a territory," she said.

  "You want me to move?" I asked.

  "No. As an unclassified you have no residential restrictions. Territory for witches is mostly a responsibility for defending that territory from spiritual and mystical attack. It also delineates the boundaries of recruiting. If I understand wizards correctly, you care little for recruiting," she said.

  "True enough," I said. "What about Chamber's County Recreation Area?"

  "That is my coven's territory and you will need to get my permission to be there," Camille said.

  "And?" I asked.

  "That's hardly the purpose of this meeting," she said.

  "I disagree. You want to know if I'm going to be a problem. Seems like you have the power to eliminate a source of conflict," I said.

  "Are you threatening me?" she asked.

  "Think of it as me asking for your permission," I said.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine, Mr. Slade. You are allowed to utilize the Chamber's County Recreation Area," she finally said. "Anything else?"

  "I'd like a chance to read through your agreement," I said.

  "You've a week."

  "Ma'am." I only half recognized the troll woman. This was the first time I’d seen her in decent lighting. I didn’t fully understand trolls, apparently, as she seemed to have two forms. Astonishingly, the ‘small’ form she presently assumed was just under six feet tall, but with her face and ears smoothed, she fit within human norms. Gone was the odd grey skin, tusks and pointy ears.

  "Yes, Amak? What is it?"

  "It's...." The tall woman looked at me pointedly.

  "We're all friends here. Right, Mr. Slade?" Camille asked.

  "We're well on our way," I said.

  "It's just… There's been another murder," she said.

  "Who?"

  Felicia reached out to Gabriella, her face ashen. She already knew something. `

  "Benita," she said.

  Tears streamed down Gabriella's face. She clearly knew the woman.

  "Where? How?" Felicia asked.

  "Her apartment. And, it was another mauling… just like Victoria Barrios," Amak replied. "Her daughter, Clarita, is missing. Police think it might be an abduction."

  MIRANDA

  "Mr. Slade, this is an internal matter. Amak will drop you in town,"
Camille said.

  I stood and laid my hand on Gabriella's arm. "I'm sorry, Gabriella."

  My heart broke at the depth of pain in her face. This wasn't my place, so I walked toward the door where Amak stood waiting.

  Felicia hurried past me with Gabriella one step behind. Amak was blocking our way out, still looking uncomfortably at Camille.

  "Move!" Felicia placed her hand on Amak's chest.

  There was a weird moment when the six-foot-tall troll looked down her nose at Felicia, who couldn't have been more than five foot three inches - and that was with heels. Felicia’s physical contact was a challenge and Amak looked like she might reciprocate. Then a small amount of energy welled up and discharged from Felicia. Amak's eyes glazed over and she passively took a step away from the door. I would love to have known what in the world Felicia cast to make that happen, but it was neither the time nor the place for inquiry.

  "You're with me, pretty boy," Amak said, her eyes clearing as she shook her head.

  I followed her through the brightly lit mansion into a wide hallway that joined with the front entryway. The leaded glass doors in front of us soared to fifteen feet. Amak walked fast and I did my best to keep up with her as she pushed her way through the doors and jogged down wide stone steps two at a time. We arrived just in time to see Gabriella's sedan exit the bricked, circular drive.

  Amak wasn't wasting any time and headed directly to a small parking lot where her Jeep was parked. I hustled after her, although I was pretty sure she couldn't leave without me.

  "Are we okay?" I asked. Amak had removed the Jeep's soft top and I used the roll bar to help me swing into the seat next to her.

  "I still owe you a beating, but it's nothing personal," she said, placing her hand on my thigh. "I could probably come up with something we could do to work off your debt, though."

  "Oh?" I asked and then it hit me what she was suggesting. "Oh… Uh… let’s put a pin in that. Okay?"

  She spun the Jeep’s wheels in the loose sand on top of the brick pavers and I hurriedly pulled the seatbelt across my chest, struggling to click it in place.