by Kal Aaron
Your work inspires me. I know people often demean comedians but remember the old saying. Drama is easy. Comedy is hard.
You can stand up to everyone with the power of humor once you secure your revenue stream with the paranormal footage. I think you’ll do a lot once you can go forward again.
You can stand up to kings, presidents, gods, goddesses. The night itself. You two can become kings of the internet, the ultimate fools ruling over truth.
I’d ask you not to tell anyone about this message. I’m taking a great personal risk in passing on this opportunity because of some existing contracts I’ve signed in an unrelated business. If I knew anything about internet shows, I’d do it myself. Follow the directions in the attached document, and you’ll find something that will assure you success for years to come.
You should consider a livestream. I think that would add more excitement. Your fans will feel like they’re right there with you.
-A Big But Too Serious Fan
Below the signature line was a line of letters run together. It looked like gibberish at first glance, but Lyssa peered at it and gasped.
“You arrogant ass,” she muttered. “You are begging to be punched.”
“Hey.” Damien frowned and backed away. “What did I do? I don’t deserve to be hit.”
“Not you. Our mystery rogue.” Lyssa held the phone up to Damien and pointed at the line. “Do you know what this means?”
Damien shook his head. “Is it an encryption thing? You want me to run it past some analysts? I can do that, but I can’t guarantee they’ll get it back ASAP.”
Lyssa shook her head. “I already know what it says. ‘Burn away all the impurities of the world.’”
“Huh?” Damien looked at the phone. “That’s not what it says. Is it some sort of spell that looks different to you? I didn’t know you can do that.”
“It’s not a spell, but it is related to Sorcerers. It’s Romanized Lemurian writing all run together. I’m not surprised you don’t know it.” Lyssa growled. “The rogue’s poking me in the eye, trying to brag by using a Torch saying that he thinks he’s going to get away with it.”
“It’s not impossible to look up Lemurian stuff on the net these days,” Damien replied, looking doubtful. “And he didn’t send the message to you. He sent it to Lucky Nardi. If I couldn’t read the message, why would he expect some random college kid to be able to read it?”
“You don’t think we have a rogue after me finding a mine full of monsters?” Lyssa asked. “Come on, Damien.”
“I think there’s a rogue involved, but I’m not getting the angle here with the email.” Damien scratched his eyelid. “What would a random rogue Sorcerer have against two internet goofballs? Why bother taunting them to the mine?”
“Ignoring the Lemurian, everything about this screams sorcery ritual,” Lyssa replied. “He emphasized them being fools, but that might not be accidental.” She gestured at her mask. “You know how much archetypes and titles mean to the Illuminated. I’m not saying this is ironclad, but the email is very odd and specific.”
“You’re saying he’s got some sort of fool-related regalia?” Damien asked, frowning. “Or a sorcery based on that kind of essence?”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he needed someone representing the fool archetype for a ritual. Something to do with that mine. I think our guys got picked. Wait a second.” Lyssa brought up the browser on the phone. “I’ve got an idea. This might not have been as random as we thought.”
“What?” Damien leaned back, trying to see what she was typing.
“One second,” Lyssa replied. “Let me check something out.”
She entered the search query “Who are the greatest fools on the internet?” and skimmed the listings. The first ten results were all related to April Fools’ Day, but the next result after that was an article. The title was enough to solve the mystery about how Nardi and Colmes were chosen: Ten Ways the Greatest Fools on the Internet Jake Colmes and Lucky Nardi are making an entire generation stupider.
Lyssa winced and showed Damien the phone. “It was bad enough when I thought they were picked at random, but now I think a man died because of a nasty listicle. That’s the internet for you.” She sucked in a breath. “You’d think those two wouldn’t have driven six hours because of a random suspicious email, but Nardi must have been even more desperate than I realized. That entire email sounds like a hyper-suspicious opener to a scam, which it kind of was.”
“It gets worse,” Damien replied with a grim expression.
“Of course it does.” Lyssa leaned forward on her bike and rested her arms on the handlebars. “Lay it on me. I can take it.”
“The message comes from an account that was created the day it was sent, and no other messages were sent from it.” Damien took the phone back. “The FBI cyber guys tracked the IP address to a library here in Phoenix. They were all excited to help out on a Torch case without having to deal with the sorcery. It’s not every day someone from outside the EAA gets to do that.”
“They tracked it to Phoenix?” Lyssa frowned. “Not Los Angeles, where the guys are from?”
Damien nodded. “That’s not that crazy. They’ve got fans all over the world, but I don’t think this was some teen prankster wannabe with a big head. The library in question has a decent number of security cameras. Those cameras suspiciously malfunctioned around the time the account was created and at the time the message was sent. There’s a forty-five-minute gap in the footage because of it.”
Lyssa growled. “The Phoenix-area connection I could accept, but combined with that? No way. That screams of sorcery. Between that and the Torch quote, this bastard might as well be spitting in my eye directly.”
“It’s not like he did it in Scottsdale,” Damien said. “The other stuff I’m not so sure about, but the Phoenix thing really could be nothing more than a coincidence.”
“A lot of people don’t know where I live, even Sorcerers,” Lyssa replied. “They know I live in the valley, but not which city. A rogue might have assumed Phoenix.”
“We don’t know this is a challenge to you. I think we need to be cautious about assuming that. We’ve got a rogue, and we now know they lured the two victims in, but I don’t think we can conclude anything more from the evidence at hand.”
Lyssa sighed. “The line about standing up to goddesses and the night seems targeted at me, but you might be right.”
“He didn’t send the email to you,” Damien replied, his voice louder and more strident. “He sent it to Lucky Nardi and told him to keep it secret. Our mystery man had no reason to think you’d track it down. If his plan had worked, Nardi would be dead, and we’d never know about the message.”
“That could be true,” Lyssa replied, “or he might have assumed they’d end up as monster food, and we’d investigate and find out eventually.”
“That’s a lot of moving parts to pull off a plan.” Damien shook his head. “I don’t know, Lyssa. You’re staring at an inkblot and seeing what you want to see here.”
“You’re right, I might be seeing what I want to see. It’s possible, but that doesn’t guarantee anything.” Lyssa waved a hand. “You know what? It doesn’t matter for now. We should focus on what we know, and we know there’s most likely a rogue who made monsters and got someone killed, but we still don’t know why they did it. That doesn’t matter as long as we stop them.” She cut through the air with her hand. “And if this bastard wants to play cat and mouse, he’s not going to like it when this hungry cat catches up with him. People don’t hide unless they’re afraid.”
Damien said helplessly, “I want to help you, but I don’t know what else we can do at this point. If you bring me specific evidence, I can liaise with the FBI or other agencies to look into things like other emails or set up surveillance, but it’s not like we can track down everyone who writes creepy fan emails using throwaway accounts. It’s not practical.”
Lyssa shook her head. “It
doesn’t matter. This guy was careful enough to mess with the security cameras and create a fake account, which means he’s tech-savvy, or even worse, he might be a Sorcerer who’s integrated tech into his spells. We won’t catch him using conventional techniques.”
“Then what’s your play?” Damien asked. “Are we dead-ended on this?”
“I’m going to contact Samuel again. He might have found out something more or might know more and be holding it back, and I can shake it loose. Once he realizes a rogue purposely baited two random Shadows and might be targeting me, he might be willing to throw more resources at it. In the meantime, I’m feeling an urge to check out a book.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lyssa hopped off her undisguised Ducati, set her helmet on the seat, and headed toward the sidewalk. Visiting the library as Hecate would be too obvious, but there was no reason anyone would be suspicious of Lyssa Corti showing up. It was not like she was famous, and she didn’t have a big enough ego to think her mere presence would turn heads. Her bike was hotter than she was.
She looked around, taking note of the positions of the small dome cameras before jogging up the sidewalk and turning the corner to head toward the main doors. The best way to investigate was to go to the scene of the crime. Somebody pulled a trigger in this library, and she needed to find clues.
An excited-looking man approached her with a clipboard as she neared the entrance. “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you have time to hear about a new refer—”
“No,” Lyssa said and walked past him. “I don’t care about anything or anyone,” she lied. “Better luck next time.”
A woman tried next. “We’re doing a survey about your favorite movies, and you can win free movie tic—”
“Don’t care,” Lyssa replied. “All movies are terrible, especially the ones I like.”
The woman cocked her head to the side with a puzzled expression, then backed away slowly, a worried look on her face.
Lyssa’s harsh tone and cool gaze scared off two other people with clipboards and a tween uniformed Arbor Scout who scurried back to her table and hid behind another smiling Scout.
She slowed as she passed the Scouts’ table. The girl was selling sugar wafers, including strawberry flavor. That might be a treat for later, but first, there was a job to do. Rewards were for people who did their jobs.
Lyssa passed through the swarm of people and Scouts near the entrance and pushed into the main library through the double glass doors. A small café sat near the entrance.
She lingered near the café, listening for anything unusual and feeling for sorcery. There was nothing. Whatever sorcery might have taken place hadn’t lingered. She hadn’t expected it, but it didn’t hurt to check.
Damien was right. There were too many unknowns remaining in the situation. She needed confirmed facts.
Lyssa stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and walked past the café and the circulation desk. Her mystery rogue hadn’t come to borrow a book. He’d come to make a fake account on a library computer. She marched toward a row of computer desks in the back and slowly walked past the machines, trying to sense sorcery. The computer stations were filled with patrons tapping, clacking, and clicking.
Most people paid her no attention, but one woman scowled at her. A man gave her a bright smile and waggled his eyebrows. She ignored everyone and continued concentrating on sorcery but finding nothing. Lyssa walked over to the circulation desk, wondering if the whole thing would prove a waste of time. There was no guarantee there would be any lingering sorcery to find.
The librarian manning the desk offered her a bright smile. “How may I help you today, miss?”
“Is there another set of computers here?” Lyssa asked. “My boyfriend swung by earlier to check out the latest Martelle release, and he told me he left his hat underneath the desk. He loves that hat.”
“Oh.” The librarian pushed her lips together and puffed her cheeks as she considered the query. “I don’t remember seeing any hats in the Lost and Found, but if you go up to the second floor and take a left from the elevator, you’ll find more computers. I hope you find it. I know how annoying it can be to lose something you like.”
“Thanks. I’m sure I will.” Lyssa smiled and waved and headed toward the elevator.
She stepped off and spotted the computers, losing hope of finding anything useful. The upstairs computers looked far older and more worn than the machines downstairs, with half their screens dark and paper signs on the fronts reading OUT OF ORDER. A couple of teen boys sat in the corner, their chairs pushed together, laughing at some meme Lyssa didn’t understand featuring a cartoon character she didn’t recognize.
“Damn it,” she mumbled. “I’m only thirty. When did that become old?”
“I don’t consider it old,” Jofi said.
“I’m glad the non-human spirit entity has great insights into the aging experience.” Lyssa snickered. “But I’m not Samuel.”
“I agree with that.”
One of the teens looked Lyssa’s way. She walked down the back row of computers, earning curious stares from the teens before stopping close to the end.
Her heart kicked up. The pressure was faint, but there. Sorcery.
Lyssa frowned and looked around the desk for anything of interest before shoving the main tower to the side and finding a thin USB stick underneath. She snatched it and brought it closer to her face, narrowing her eyes.
The teens eyed her. One frowned.
“Are you, like, ripping off the library, lady?” he asked. “That’s lame. Go shoplift from a store.”
Lyssa grimaced. “Lady? How old do you think I am?”
“I don’t know. Old.” He shrugged. “Like, twenty-five?”
She grinned. “Twenty-five? Okay, I’ll take it. I like you.” She shook the stick. “And I’m not stealing. This is mine. I forgot it earlier. It’s a miracle it’s still here.
“Oh.” The teen turned back to his friend and the screen.
She was glad they didn’t press her on it or take her picture. That let her concentrate on her new find.
The sensation was unmistakable. She’d found a shard, an enchanted USB stick.
That was a first for her. She wasn’t the only Illuminated out there who believed they needed to accept more technology. That made her rogue dangerous.
“Samuel’s going to hate this,” she muttered, walking back to the elevator. “But I’ll give Damien first crack.”
“Why would you do that?” Jofi asked.
“Sorcery-enhanced or not, a USB stick is a technological device,” Lyssa replied. “I’m not sure Samuel even knows what a USB stick is used for. This could have useful information on it.”
She tucked the stick into her pocket. The boys cackled at a video. A familiar voice came out of the speaker: Lucky Nardi’s.
“Get ready for the ultimate prank,” he said. “We’re going to convince this guy aliens stole his car! Remember, as always, if you love what we’ve done, you need to smash those Like and Subscribe buttons!”
Lyssa stepped into the elevator, shaking her head. She’d avenge him and his partner.
A desperate college kid didn’t deserve to get shoved into a monster nest. It might not have had anything to do with her before, but now that she had the contract, she’d see it through to the end.
Lyssa brooded on the thought as she headed out the front doors. By the time she returned to the gauntlet near the opening, she’d given up on strawberry wafers. She hurried past everyone toward the parking lot and her bike.
“Do you think they wanted me to find it?” she whispered. “They could have taken it with them, but they left it. If not me, then another Torch.
“You would know better than me,” Jofi replied. “But might I suggest they left it to avoid someone using it as a basis for tracking sorcery? Their sacrifice was already achieved, assuming your theory is correct. They no longer needed the shard. Its mere presence doesn’t prove anything more than what you already presu
me, that a Sorcerer is involved.”
Lyssa laughed. “This is even more messed-up than usual, huh?”
A dark-haired man stood in front of her bike. His back was turned, but he was doing something to the seat. What were the chances?
Lyssa growled and stomped over toward him. What the hell was wrong with people in the valley? She’d beat down every person in the county to protect her bike. Someone wanted a broken jaw.
“Hey, asshole,” she shouted. “Stay the hell away from my bike. You hate being able to breathe?”
The man spun, revealing a familiar handsome face. It’d been only a fleeting encounter at a gas station weeks ago, but Lyssa was good at remembering faces, especially when she talked to the person. It was her day for coincidences.
“Bill?” she asked, sounding as surprised as she felt.
He smiled and nodded at her seat. There was a piece of paper with writing weighed down with a rock. He held a pen, not a screwdriver, and had written Dear Lyssa.
Lyssa stared at him. “What’s going on, exactly? Sorry about the threat. I thought you were trying to steal it.”
“Nope. I wouldn’t dare.” Bill grabbed the paper and crumpled it. “I was coming out of the library when I saw a bright yellow Ducati. I thought to myself, ‘What are the chances that two people have that exact bike around here?’ Forget about the color. I don’t think I’ve seen that kind of bike before yours.”
“My bike?” Lyssa shook her head. “You remembered?”
“You and your bike are kind of hard to forget.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
He gave her a dimpled smile. “I figured someone up there was trying to tell me something, and I figured a note couldn’t hurt. The worst thing that could happen was you would blow me off, and I was back to where I started.” He chuckled. “Are you still on the way to something?”
Lyssa stared at him, trying to judge the situation. Given the population of the area, running randomly into a man she’d met at a gas station was incredibly unlikely, but she didn’t sense any sorcery from him. There was no tension in his face or stance, nothing to indicate he was all that worried.