Magic Thief

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Magic Thief Page 4

by C C Sommerly


  Giggles rang out. Out of the darkness appeared the sisters cloaked in hooded robes. They looked positively giddy and watched me intently.

  An older woman, who looked darn near fossilized, stepped out from the gaggle of sisters. With a wave of her hand, she silenced them.

  She stared at Zander and me, her lips pursed like she ate something sour. Her eyes squinted in distaste.

  “How dare —” I asked.

  “Silence,” she said. With a wave of her hand, my lips were magically frozen shut. So, they did have magic besides the gift of foresight? An interesting tidbit I mentally filed away for later – if we got out of this alive.

  I felt for her magic to see what I was dealing with. Hers was strong, but mine was stronger. Had I wanted to, I could easily free myself. But, my magic was boxed up within me. I sealed it tight and locked it away ten years ago and hadn’t let it out since.

  Magic was a greedy thing. You couldn’t just use it once. It gave you a feeling of euphoria. The joy of using the magical energies made you feel alive in a way that nothing else could.

  “How the mighty have fallen, eh Alexander? I did promise that when we next met, the circumstances would be much different, didn’t I?” said the old seer.

  Her eyes gleamed with interest as she waited for his reaction, which wasn’t a long wait.

  “Cassandra, how dare you mock me and the state I’m in.”

  She stomped over to Zander and grabbed his chin in her bony hand. I leapt towards her and she shot me back with a blast of magic. It pinned me against one of the pillars. I was completely immobile.

  Ignoring me now that I was restrained, Cassandra focused on Zander. “I dare many things when confronted with the ghost of a former glorious mage. One who thought he knew better than I. You were warned not to go after the chalice and you did not heed our warning. Are you ready to take advice now?”

  I strained against the bonds, but without magic it was no use. The box holding my magic shook in my mind. With an iron grip, I tightened down the lid. There was no way that was I letting it out to play. It was a constant battle to suppress my magic and even now sweat dotted my forehead from the strain. If I let it out, then I may very well never be able to put it back – something I dreaded, but a part of me yearned for it. Mine was the destructive kind, the type that could lead to madness and loss of control.

  “You were right. Is that what you want to hear? That I was foolish and regret not listening to you, Cassandra?”

  Her face softened slightly and she looked at him searchingly.

  “Ask your question.”

  “How do I cure myself?”

  “Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

  She crooked a finger at me, releasing me from the spell.

  “Come now. Time is short.”

  I tried to tell her just what I thought of her treatment of us so far and no words came out. Her silencing spell was still in full effect.

  We followed Cassandra and the other sisters deeper into the catacombs. Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could make out a main hallway that was bracketed by arches and lined with flickering torches in intricate metal scones. Spiderwebs liberally coated the walls and hung down from the ceiling like a silky tapestry. The dank and dusty air tickled my nose.

  Zander followed behind them. Every so often he threw nervous glances over his shoulder at me. The little bastard should have warned me about his history with the sisterhood. It was withholding key information like this that could mean the difference between life and death. I’m done with him. Next time, Sterling could handle him.

  The catacombs seemed to go on forever and my patience was fraying the longer we were down here. Just when I thought I’d start fighting the sisters, we were before a large, wooden door.

  They opened it up and we trudged into a spacious ceremonially chamber that was brightly lit. Metal plates were suspended from the ceiling and held burning oil. A large altar dominated the center of the room and the domed room was open at the top, letting the sunlight stream in.

  She stood in the center of the room and gestured us forward. The other sisters quietly departed the room. And the tension slowly eased as did the hostility. There wouldn’t be any more attacks from them.

  “You’re not ready for the cure,” Cassandra said.

  “What do you mean? It’s been five years. Of course, I’m ready. I don’t want to be stuck helpless and powerless like some sort of man boy,” said Zander.

  Cassandra swept her dress under her and daintily arranged herself on a chair that appeared out of nowhere.

  “This isn’t how this curse works. Do you think you are the only person to have discovered the Fountain of Youth?”

  Whatever she saw on Zander’s face made her laugh. “Poor deluded Alexander. You always felt privileged and had an over inflated sense of self-worth. You aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last.”

  Zander leapt up, knocking his chair over.

  “How dare you.”

  Cassandra leveled a stare at him.

  “You came to me. You need me, whereas, I don’t need you. I want to be clear, I’m only indulging your poor behavior as a courtesy because of our shared past. Do not mistake it for kindness or pity. I possess neither.”

  I walked over and hauled Zander away from her. He shot me a dirty look, but thankfully stayed quiet. It was the first smart thing he’d done since we got out of the car.

  Gods and Goddesses above, please save me from stupid.

  “As I was saying, this particular curse is unique. It can be broken, but the manner of doing so is different for everyone.”

  “And how do you know this? And, how can I trust you?” Zander asked.

  I have never wanted to smack someone as badly as I wanted to smack Zander in this moment. I put my hands between my knees to resist the urge. Zander was rude and petulant, but never this antagonistic and unreasonable.

  Cassandra leveled a hard stare at Zander that had him squirming.

  “This is a perfect example for what I’m going to tell you. You brought this on yourself.”

  “But – ”

  “You will not talk over me. For once in your life, shut up and listen. The Fountain of Youth was created for restoration of youth – the physical, mental, and spiritual. The Goddess Athena designed it to create a clean emotional and spiritual state for enlightenment. Most of the myths and legends leave that part out.”

  “How exactly does this help with a cure?” I asked, relieved that she’s removed the spell preventing me from speaking.

  I was getting frustrated and annoyed. My arms, hands, and every other part of me that was exposed during the attack and the fall stung. And, bruises were already dotting my arms. I felt like I’d been knocked around the fighting arena a few times. Zander wasn’t in much better shape than I was. He had a deep gash on the side of his head that still wept blood, along with cuts and bruises similar to mine.

  “The protectors cannot prevent access to the Fountain, but they did put safeguards on it. The curse is given to anyone unworthy or those that seek the fountain for selfish gains, like Zander.”

  My arm whipped out, grabbing Zander’s arm to keep him in his seat. He was like a freaking jack-in-the-box, up one minute and down the next at the slightest provocation.

  “Just tell us what Zander needs to do and we will leave you alone,” I said.

  “As I said before, the cure is different for everyone. In this case, Zander’s flaws can be critical ones. A sense of undeserved privilege, self-centeredness, and power-hungry. You need to find a way to appease the universe by changing those things.”

  “This isn’t help. This is nothing. You dangled a cure over my head and throw this at me?” screamed Zander.

  He reached for me.

  “Let’s leave. This was a waste of everyone’s time.”

  On our way out the door, Cassandra said “Isn’t there anything you wish to know Marty?”

  “No thanks. I’ve seen what you call help
and I’ll pass.”

  4

  “You owe me big time Zander. We could have been killed back there. And, keeping the details about your sordid history with the Head Sister was a dick move. I can’t help you if you keep crucial details from me.”

  “What makes you think I had a sordid anything with her?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Fine, but if you had seen the sweet a – ”

  “Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to walk home.”

  I dragged Zander out of the car and into the Agency.

  “Callie, where’s Sterling?” I asked.

  “You’re in luck, he’s in the office,” she said.

  Sterling’s door was open and he was without any visitors – a rarity. We always had clients dropping by demanding updates about their cases or whining that we were taking too long. Callie did her best to keep them at bay, but we were obligated to give updates, when possible.

  He looked up at us and put down the papers he was going through. “You two look like Hell. What happened? I expected you back hours ago. Callie just barely managed to convince me to wait before looking for you.”

  I sat down and Zander collapsed into the other chair. I explained the visit to the Mage Guild Headquarters and the Sisterhood.

  “Wait, let me get this straight, you went to the Sisterhood? And why was this so important that it had to be done in the middle of a major case and with the workload we have?”

  To Zander he said “When I asked Marty to take you out, I meant to go eat or run to the store, not some half-baked mission to mess with the sisters.”

  I filled him in on the shadow creature’s attack, the attack by the Head Sister and Zander’s connection. I ended it with the supposed solution to his curse.

  “So you’ve been keeping secrets, I see. This has to stop. You put not only yourself, but Marty in danger. This ends here. We’ve indulged your childish antics for five years. No more. Figure out the clues they gave you for the cure or don’t, but I will no longer have you putting anyone at the Agency at risk.”

  Zander’s face was deep red with suppressed anger. He stood up, inclined his head at Sterling and nodded to me. Then, he walked out.

  Sterling sighed. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

  “I don’t either. Before your talk, I was going to tell you I couldn’t handle him anymore.”

  “Look, I’m not sure either of us can do anything about it. You are welcome to help him with this curse, but cases come first.”

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this. All respect I had for him died on the path when he hid behind me. Zander isn’t who either of us knew before.”

  He pushed a small stack of folders across the desk.

  “Here are your new ones.”

  I groaned. Without Zander taking cases, we worked as a skeleton crew. We didn’t want anyone asking questions about a weird kid, who never aged, so we hid him and minimized his contact with the outside world. If the mages knew what he did, they’d take him. He was a brat and I was beyond mad at him, but he was our brat.

  “Anything particular that I should know about these cases?”

  “Nope, standard stuff with the exception of a recovery job for an ancestral necklace.”

  That got my attention all right. Rat had told me about the Mage seeking a necklace after my trip to the Underworld. Rather interesting timing.

  “Who is the client?”

  “It’s Julia Huntington.”

  Lovely, the Huntington’s were a wealthy family that owned a good portion of Uptown. They had created a new way of melding magic to allow for hybrids. They capitalized it and held the patent for it. It was a lucrative business, so this must be some necklace to bring her to our Agency.

  “Why did she hire us and not the Wolf Agency?”

  “She thought we could be discrete and was concerned that word would get out to her father if she used them.”

  I laughed. “And you assigned the case to me?”

  “I’m already deep into my other cases and at max capacity or I’d take it. Please try to be discrete.”

  I skimmed through the rest of the files. In addition to the stolen necklace case, I now had a case for a suspected unfaithful spouse, a missing person case, and an injury case.

  “This is a lot. You know, telling clients no, works wonders on our caseload. We can’t keep up at this pace.”

  He ran his hand over his face. “I know. I don’t want to ask Zander to leave. I don’t want him to be a prisoner in the basement. We need the money. They increased the rent.”

  I swore. Those greedy bastards. Our Agency was a rental. The owners refused to sell and increased our rent every year. I didn’t want to consider where we’d go if we couldn’t cover the increase.

  “Okay. We will figure something out. Maybe, we can train Callie to do some of the research and lighter work.”

  “It may come to that.”

  I stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get showered and changed. I also have my new cases to look over.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Sure thing.”

  My stomach growled loud enough to wake the dead. I made a detour to the kitchen for whatever I could scavenge. We tended to forget about basics here. Despite the cost, most of us ate at diners or restaurants because we weren’t home enough to cook. Every now and then, Callie cooked or one of us remembered to buy groceries.

  In the fridge, I found a half-eaten apple, a small block of cheese, and a partially moldy loaf of bread. Not even close to gourmet, but beggars can’t be choosers. I headed upstairs with my stash.

  Our cases ran the gamut and could be something as simple as providing security to the more complex like a theft or missing person. Big agencies, like Wolf Investigators, had specialized teams for types of cases, but ours couldn’t afford that luxury.

  I opened the first case in my pile. I hoped there were more details then what Sterling had told me. The amount of information we had for each case varied. It could be because the person initiating the case didn’t know the details or refused to disclose them.

  Case number 1: Stolen Necklace. In the case notes, Julia Huntington mentioned that her stolen necklace was kept in an enchanted box. The last time she saw it was the night before it went missing, when she wore it to a recent gala. She claimed that she put it in the box, but because she drank alcohol that night, she wasn’t completely certain.

  The following morning, she checked the box and it was missing. She had an upcoming engagement in the next week with her family. The necklace had to be found by then since she was expected to wear it at that event.

  I jotted down some notes and decided to call and ask why she didn’t have a witch conduct a tracing spell on it. And, the file didn’t mention if this necklace had any magical properties. It also didn’t have a description of it.

  Miss Huntington asked for discretion and requested that we not interview her staff, acquaintances, or anyone in her social circle. Yep, request denied. I’d be interviewing her staff and anyone else that had access to the residence on the night the necklace disappeared. I needed a physical description of the necklace beyond it being a family heirloom and irreplaceable.

  I also wanted some more information about what made this necklace so special. Beyond its obvious monetary value, there had to be more to it. Miss Huntington was going through a lot of trouble to hire us to find it.

  Case number 2: Cheating Spouse. Immediately, I noticed the intake interview wasn’t done by Sterling and groaned. The first line said “His whiskers remind me of my cat, Snowball, he had the longest whiskers and they tickled. I sure loved that cat. Not sure this guy is legit; he won’t meet my eyes.”

  The husband, a Mr. Norman Hamm suspected that his wife was having an affair. She had been unusually happy and was being secretive. She went out with friends more than normal and refused to give details about where she went or what she did. He also noticed that she was taking more care with he
r appearance.

  No matter how many times I spoke with Callie, she couldn’t seem to understand that comments like these didn’t add anything to the case and were a distraction. Sterling really needed to train Callie better or hire someone else to do these intakes.

  Although, Mr. Hamm’s failure to meet Callie’s eyes indicated guilt. Interesting. That was an unexpectedly insightful tidbit to a file that proved nearly useless. I needed to add a visit to Mr. Hamm to my list. There weren’t nearly enough details to get me started.

  I’d need to get the wife’s schedule and tail her. I’d also make sure to talk with the husband. He could inform me the next time she was going on a supposed “friends outing” and I could follow her. Norman Hamm said the outings were weekly and the last one had just happened before he hired our Agency

  Case Number 3: Fraudulent Disability Claim. The injury case was to determine if an employee of the Rare Herbs and Medicinals Company, Mr. Frederick Smith, was truly as injured as he said he was. He was demanding an exorbitant amount of money from his employer or he’d take them to court and air some things the company preferred to keep quiet. This one had a longer time to wrap up and it would be easy enough to do surveillance. This man claimed he was an invalid and I had to confirm or disprove his claim.

  Case Number 4: Missing Person. This was the type of case I hated taking. More often than not, the person that was missing had intentionally went away and didn’t want to be found. Finding them was hard and often traumatic for them and their family. When the families discovered that the person left by choice and wanted to stay gone, it didn’t go over well. Or, in the rare instances of foul play, I had to turn my case over to the enforcers, our police force, to handle. Emma Lynn, the seventeen-year-old daughter of the Jamison’s was missing. Her parents didn’t want to involve the enforcers and needed her found. She was nearly an adult, so forcing her home once I found her would be challenging to say the least.

 

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