by Jim Stein
“Yeah.” It was hard to muster enthusiasm. I seethed inside, uncertain of the target for my annoyance.
“Ah, the girl.” He followed my gaze back to Quinn. “You want to go with her.”
“No, I—”
“Joel Conti knows young love when he sees it.” The boss shook his head and winked. Quinn picked that moment to dump a new load of cables at Billy’s feet and storm off toward the sound booth. “She’s a fiery one, but I understand the attraction—and the disappointment. Interviews for the summer help will take your mind off the girl. Get me some good people, and we will see what can be done.”
The boss looked me up and down, his smile turning to a look of consideration. He thought I would mope around after the gang hit the road.
“Happy to help.” I tried to sound upbeat.
“Something is different. You worry about the evil eye again?” Before I could answer, he waved me silent. “Better to not speak of it. You have protection from the old country, yes? Keep yourself safe.”
He strode away with a brisk nod, leaving me confused. I had practiced Koko’s spell and covered myself in a single obscuring layer before coming to work. Wearing the protection made my skin creep with gooseflesh, like being constantly chilled. Casting it made me sick to my stomach. The cloak was unnatural and didn’t want to be there, but I felt the negating quality once it settled in place. I suspected with a little tweaking it could stop more than just seeking magic.
If my suspicions were correct, nothing operated in Tokpela, including the physical laws dealing with momentum, gravity, and all the little scientific principles that allowed things like bullets, knives, and fists to do damage. It was worth some experimentation.
The current puzzle was Mr. Conti. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the old codger saw my simple protection. Last year when discussing the witch, he proved thoroughly familiar with curses and the evil eye used back in Italy. I hadn’t taken the boss’s offer to help seriously, but…maybe there was a touch of European magic in the old man’s blood.
I picked my way through the growing piles of gear to the auxiliary recording room. Quinn looked up from her guitars. A white bass too pristine for her stage presence sat next to her metallic blue instrument. I walked over and rubbed some of the tension out of her shoulders. We’d been close enough for that before yesterday’s stupid comment.
“How’s it coming?”
“The RV will be ready in another week. The gear isn’t all going to fit under the bus. Amps and speakers take priority. Our itinerary is packed, but the stops aren’t equipped like New Philly. Spares will be hard to find on the road.”
Tension climbed up her back. She turned, kissed me, and put her head on my shoulder. Her black tee-shirt was smooth and warm under my left hand while my right stroked her hair. Quinn felt good in my arms, but her looming departure sucked the pleasure away like a hungry black hole.
The tour wasn’t solely to blame. She’d been slipping away even before the big announcement. The ring was my attempt to strike before our relationship cooled, but I’d been too slow. Now, Quinn was always busy, and opportunities to be alone grew scarce. I closed my eyes, trying to recapture the closeness we’d shared.
“How many performances are planned?” My voice sounded wooden.
“Half dozen give or take on each leg.” She pulled away, leaving a cool void on my shoulder. “A few more in California before we head back.”
“I could come along.”
“You don’t want that,” Quinn said with a sad smile, her eyes glistening.
“Course I do. We were just getting…somewhere. It would give us more time together, like we used to have.”
“They need you here at the station. Plus, this thing between us…” She pointed from herself to me. “Something’s wrong. You locked me out even before the tour came up. Now it’s worse—no, hear me out.” That last was in response to my squawk of protest. “You’ve gotten moody again. Not like your depression last year. This is an angry, sullen thing eating you up. You don’t even know you’re doing it, but you hold everyone at arm’s length. How can we be together if you won’t let me in?”
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Since when did I shut people out?
“It isn’t. You want to keep me under your thumb.” A red blush painted her coppery skin. “Stay here. Work out your feelings, whatever has you so on edge. The time apart will do us good. I’ll be back before you know it. Promise.”
Quinn didn’t give me time to digest it all. She leaned in, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and slid out the door.
The week went downhill from there. Technically, everything ran smoothly. I helped Mr. C interview three interns, and we put an offer out to two of them. The band gathered what they needed for the road. Even Ralph settled in nicely, and I swore Piper talked to the imp more than me. But everyone seemed…distant.
I spent the bulk of my free time down in what I liked to think of as my wizard’s lab. When we’d put in the sound stage, it was only natural to build a side room for practicing spells. This wasn’t the dreary dungeon from old movies. The power I inherited from Koko needed music, so my lab boasted speakers instead of beakers and soundtracks instead of arcane tomes. A rack of spell components did occupy one small corner, but aside from that and the big desk made of two-by-fours, it was a pretty modern space. I didn’t even have a pentagram on the floor, which annoyed my sister to no end.
Saturday night was a lonely affair. The band no longer used my basement, and Double-M took over distributing the second album. I hid in my lab, jamming to the A-Chords’ music and studying my handiwork. The obscuring spell was coming along. With a little creative visualization, I could conjure up three separate layers of Tokpela and wrap each around a different instrument. Drawing bass, keyboard, and drums together into the best cloak possible proved challenging.
I glared at the undulating power that fought against my sealing the spell. The jazzy number pulled the parts together in harmony, but the layers of nothingness had a polarization to them. Squeezing them together with Spirit energy was like forcing magnets together the wrong way. The layers slipped and pushed, anything to keep from actually touching.
“Get back here.” Piper clomped down the stairs.
All went quiet, so I turned back to my spell.
“Stop it!” More shuffling followed her fierce whisper, then the clang of what sounded like a trashcan lid.
“For crying out loud!”
The layers of nothing flew apart as I released the spell. I held to the connection point where music met magic, hugging the power tight. Whereas Earth magic had to be shunted to ground after each spell, Spirit needed an anchor in the caster. The excess energy sank into me like warm sunshine. The process only took a moment, but by the time I stuck my head into the main room, the commotion had stopped. Piper sat on the steps scowling around our homegrown studio.
“Now what?” I asked.
It was bad enough she badgered me upstairs, but deliberately interrupting my practice like a spoiled kid crossed the line.
“Oh, sorry Ed.” Piper did a good job of looking surprised. “Thought you were out working on the fountain plumbing. Have you seen…anything?”
“Like what?”
Her nervous finger rubbing, furtive glances past me, and tight lips added up to a sister who was hiding something.
“I don’t know, j—”
A crash from my lab made the bottom drop out of my stomach. I darted inside, expecting to see the shelving unit had collapsed. Piper was close on my heels, face white as a ghost. But the room looked perfectly normal.
“If you don’t slow down, who knows what weird shit will happen around here?” My sister regained her composure and took the offensive. “Just keep that in mind. I don’t have time to babysit your messes.”
Piper stormed upstairs, leaving me blinking in confusion. What the hell was that all about? If she still had concerns about the cost of my spells, it was a strange way of getti
ng my attention. I shrugged to the empty room. Those early morning bureau sessions had her strung too tight.
Time for another try. I flipped the sound system on. With the A-Chords’ “Righteous Rigor Mortis” playing—we really needed to stop letting Quinn name these tunes—I called up my three layers of nothingness. Forcing them into a single piece just wasn’t going to work, but I lashed their ends together like gathering the corners of a bedsheet. The edges didn’t resist. The surface of each sheet billowed as the repelling force created a natural gap between the nested layers surrounding me.
My neck prickled, different than the gooseflesh the spell raised. I scanned the room, feeling as though I was being watched. Lights on my audio equipment blinked back and tracked the song’s progress. A box of feathers, lumps of rock, and a few combustibles sat quietly on the corner shelf.
My attention drifted back to my flapping creation, which worked, but left me holding the magical draw strings. When I cast a single protective layer, it settled over me like a glove. There had to be a way to make this spell stay put.
I let my vision slip out of focus. The glow blurred to a reddish nimbus inside the protective spell. Seeing your own energy was difficult. When Koko looked me up and down, he most certainly studied my aura. I was never certain if what I saw was actual energy or my imagination. Squinting helped. Something was there, maybe a little redder than usual. A ball of light hovered at my sternum and another at my stomach. They would be centroids for the heart and solar plexus chakras. A third lurked in my peripheral vision at the crown of my head, and an idea struck. I used the song.
Take these words,
Take my meaning,
Take all my crazy, wanton scheming,
And lock away…my dreams today.
I walked the magic with the lyrics, tying off the ends to each chakra point. I gently released the spell, ready to grab at the Tokpela. The glowing sheets billowed, each anchored to an energy nexus at head, chest, or stomach. I took a few experimental steps, and the protection moved with me like walking inside three nested and shifting soap bubbles. The glow faded and wouldn’t be detectable without magical sight. But the outer layer tugged with annoying little jerks that had my temples buzzing and teeth clenched as the tattoo on my shoulder throbbed. There was something else—eyes on me again.
I spun around to find Max standing in the doorway, tail wagging like nobody’s business. I followed his gaze. Amid the boxes on the bottom shelf a slender green arm extended from the shadows, clawed hand resting on a bag of rock salt. Ralph peered out from behind the bag, and Max let out an excited yip.
Piper’s visit made sense now. I couldn’t wait to hear an explanation for how our guest got out. I eyed the imp, wary of what tricks he might play. But the little guy just looked from me to Max, almost hopeful. I stepped to my workbench, popped the top off my snack jar, and grabbed a few candy-coated chocolate bites.
I sat the candies on the floor and backed away. The imp streaked out, and I blinked at bare concrete. Just like that, treats and critter were gone. Wonderful. I didn’t have time for another game of hide and seek. Getting this new spell solid and repeatable would take more time, and I still had to finish pumping Billy about his duties. The tour launch date was only a couple of weeks away.
Something heavy swatted my thigh. I looked down at Max’s butt as he spun toward the cabinet of sound gear. Ralph sat on the top, resting against a small speaker and munching a candy. The imp scratched absently at his left ear, picked up an orange piece, and popped it into his mouth—the picture of contentment.
An hour later, I finished writing out my notes on the obscuring spell—my sister’s diligence rubbed off. I did a quick proofread, scratched out the word obscuring, and wrote hiding. It made me feel like a fugitive, but was less of a mouthful. Max and Ralph slept curled up on the big round dog bed in the corner. I left them snoozing and headed upstairs.
“Piper, did you let Ralph out? He—”
Dad sat in the living room with Piper, and they both turned at my question.
6. Pina’s Folly
“I T’S DEFINITELY an imp from the Old World.” Pina peered at her lord’s back, a wall of white leather among the heat shimmers.
Kokopelli crouched in the desert sand and examined a rock outcropping. Tendrils of green crept from the crevasses, searching for light. He looked tired and focused everywhere but on her.
“Lord?”
“Yes, Brightness.” Kokopelli stood and dusted his hands. Power flashed with each slap, incinerating the grains that clung to his gnarled fingers. The plants retreated back into the rock, away from the falling embers. The old spirit grinned, but it was not a joyous expression. “You have done well to bring me this news.”
“Of course, Lord.” He sounded so impersonal, as though he’d forgotten sending her to investigate. It might not be a good moment to bring up the other topic, but she promised Piper. “Edan’s control has increased.”
“Indeed.”
He shaded his eyes and looked off toward the purple horizon. They stood on the outskirts of his domain, a strange area so much like the human world, but with subtle differences. The ever-present sunlight had no source, and the sky ranged from violet to near-black. Being here was uncomfortable for a sprite used to forests and greenery. Other domains occasionally touched these fringes. Although her lord could handle anything that wandered in, she kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. It was all endless sand and boulders, smelling of baked rock and lizard droppings. Yuck.
“His sister and I are concerned.” Pina wrung her hands, then wiped them on the pretty top Piper helped her make.
“Bah, that human chases fairy tales. She does not even have the gift.” Kokopelli waved an indifferent hand and knelt at another rock.
“I like Piper! She’s smart and nice and—” Pina’s breath caught when she realized her hands were balled into fists.
She had never been so disrespectful. But then again, he had never been so…dismissive. Edan was his first child by a human. Kokopelli had been none too careful in his dalliance with the Hopi woman. There was no telling how much of the elder spirit was in the boy, and Edan’s power grew quickly. They had a responsibility to ensure it didn’t overwhelm him.
“The boy may struggle, but learning at his own pace serves him well.” Kokopelli blinked, and Pina wondered if he could so easily read her thoughts. “The girl is an asset. She held up quite well in the past.”
“But Ed tires and grows dark again, like before only worse. Piper worries he does not properly ground his workings.”
“I said fear not!” His voice brimmed with the force of command, and Pina bowed her head. “I am watching the boy, but the imp is a nuisance.”
The old spirit shimmered in the blazing heat and stood before her wrapped in dark furs and his strange human hat.
“Hessh, hessh… You dress like prey, old man.” The hissing laughter and comment caught Pina by surprise.
She spun to the right as a massive green head materialized, followed by a sinuous body that seemed to stretch for miles. The gaping maw let out another hiss of mirth, and water cascaded from the horned serpent’s mouth and scaled hide. In this aspect, the spirit was half dragon and half snake, with stubby legs supporting his front half. His twin horns rose high on either side of the reptilian head, gleaming white in the muted light. Regardless of form, he was belligerent as ever.
“The great Kokopelli is no old man!” Pina planted her feet with hands on hips to confront the intruder. “You will show respect or—”
“Peace, Brightness.” The familiar warmth was back in her lord’s voice.
Pina relaxed, letting his tone mollify her, but she kept a watchful eye on the serpent.
“What news, Uktena?” Kokopelli asked, a gleam of interest in his eye.
Pina gaped. Her lord had been expecting the intrusion. The serpent was a dangerous and powerful entity with his own agenda. She couldn’t truthfully say Uktena walked the dark paths, but he certainly di
dn’t linger long in the light. Kokopelli was too familiar with the creature, and she wondered if the two spoke often.
“The Neutral Council tracks the dark ones.” Massive teeth and fangs as long as she was tall flashed between words. “One of the major powers shifted toward the humans, but they know not which.”
“Would you say if they did know?” Kokopelli asked.
The serpent’s head cocked to the side in thought. “No. We do not take sides.”
“Curious.” Her lord gave them both a rueful smile. “Then I expect you similarly report my movements to the opposition.”
“Only to the extent the balance is maintained, old man.”
Pina scooped up a rock as big as her head and slammed it down on Uktena’s front foot. It hit with a satisfying thump, earning a hiss and glare. She glared right back and wagged a warning finger. If he didn’t behave, the next one would go somewhere tender. She wasn’t certain how vulnerable that thick iridescent hide was, but her people were small and agile—she’d find a spot.
“Your faction is short-sighted.” Kokopelli ignored the exchange. “All are tied to the humans’ plight. If they perish, your precious balance will crumble.”
“Please, old…” Uktena eyed the jagged stone. “…spirit, your foresight is no greater than ours. There is no proof of such dire projections. Be satisfied the council does not deem your activities disruptive.”
“You would side with the dark to thwart me?”
“Never siding,” the serpent corrected. “We keep the balance.”
7. The Start of Something Blunderful
“D
AD!” I looked to Piper, but she froze like a deer in the headlights. “Didn’t know you were here.”
The three of us couldn’t look more different if we tried, but that was okay. Adoptive parents were the standard nowadays since so few couples could conceive. Families that could were encouraged to have as many kids as possible and were handsomely compensated for adopting out. Between Piper’s red hair, my black, and Dad’s brown-turned-gray, we had the spectrum covered. Dad was in his mid-forties—I never could remember his exact age—and had a couple of inches on me. His square Anglo face could never be confused with my narrow, Native American heritage, and those blue eyes screamed Nordic. His thick hair was combed in a neat gray mass suiting his button-up white shirt and slacks. That audit at the Census Bureau must be a killer for him to be working this late on Saturday.