by Rik Hunik
# # #
Rain started pouring down harder than ever so I caught a cab to the university library to dig around for any reference to the Thirteen Moons Spell, but no matter what I poked into I found nothing, because what I was looking for was not on the regular shelves.
I shelved the book in my hand and wandered down a few aisles till I came to a big desk guarding a heavy wooden door with a neatly lettered sign on it that read, "Restricted area." When I explained my quest to the sharp-faced, white-haired woman behind the desk she looked at me like I was a perverted maniac about to go on a rampage. I just stood there calmly and waited. She said, "That spell is so dark and perilous that few people ever dared to write about it."
"It's not for personal use," I assured her. I showed her my card and told her I was working on a case. "You heard about the Skinner?"
She nodded.
"I think he was trying to use the Thirteen Moons Spell, but I need more information."
She charged me ten talents, then called a student to man the desk. She pulled a big key out of her pocket, unlocked the door and led me into a dim room full of the musty smell of old books. Among the thousands of volumes she found me three references to the spell. The first one waxed poetic about the many evils of the spell, warning that twelve victims were not enough, that there would surely be "...a final victim in the dark of the moon."
Not that it mattered with The Skinner already dead, but the new moon was only a week away.
The second reference, very brief, revealed that the only purpose of the spell was to turn a man into a woman, which I already knew, but said the method was so foul it didn't deserve to be preserved in any way.
The third reference was the jackpot for me. The author said he dared reveal nothing about how the spell was performed, but that was fine with me because I'd already seen more of that than I cared to. He called the spell evil and dangerous, and warned that it led most often to madness and deformity. He did, however, fill in some important details about the effects.
The spell involved thirteen kills, one per month. By donning the skin of the victim the spell caster actually became a woman, the first time only for a few days, the second time a few days longer, and so on until the last kill made the change permanent.
I guess Renzo didn't get quite that far. He did something drastically wrong and fell prey to the madness. All very interesting but of no practical value.
# # #
When I got back to the office near closing time Zena said, "Your landlady dropped by a couple of hours ago."
"What did she want?"
"She didn't say. Maybe she just wanted to chat. She seemed friendly enough but she struck me as a bit strange."
"What do you expect from somebody who likes knives? Have you ever been in her store?"
"No, and I don't think I want to. Where were you all day?"
I filled her in on the visit to the Temple Of Hermia, the results of my search, my encounter with the goons and what I'd learned in the library.
"You better be careful. You don't know when those people will try to get you again."
"You have a point, but I can't worry about it too much or I would be afraid to leave my office, and who's to say they don't already know where that is. I'll try to stay out of alleys."
She helped me label the personal items and file them, then enter all the new locations on my map. They were scattered throughout Old City, with no discernable patterns or clumps, but all within half a mile of the waterfront, which covered a lot of territory.
Chapter 38
The next morning Zena showed up with a book. I picked it up to read the spine. "Ovid, Metamorphoses. One of my favorites. Have you read his love poems?"
"No. My father says they're obscene and wouldn't allow them in his house. He's a big fan of Virgil."
"Of course." I shrugged. "I'm a fan of both. I'll lend you my copy of Ovid."
"But I feel so guilty getting paid but not working."
"As long as you're caught up with the accounting and paperwork, and you're in the office when a client walks in, you're doing your job."
She sighed and opened her book. "Let me know when you need me to take some dictation."
Soon she was engrossed in her reading but I became distracted by her. She had a strong profile but nothing was too sharp, her hair had enough curl to give it extra bounce, and her eyes were full of sparkle and life. I looked away, suddenly aware that I had been staring while fantasizing about her eyes, which I couldn't even see from this angle.
I got back to thinking about the missing women who seemed to have vanished completely without dying. It had been bothering me for weeks, but I hadn't felt too guilty about not doing much about finding them, but now the Temple Of Hermia was paying me for all the time I could spend on the case because of their missing priestess, so I felt like I had to do something. I just couldn't think of anything to do.
The High Priestess Theola had referred to the kidnappers as a cult, and cults have priests, and priests could usually do some magic, but were they strong enough to block my talent? Or did they have a Wizard working for them, or even a Master? How strong was their barricade? I had managed to get a few very faint impressions. If I could boost my power just a bit more I might get something useful.
"I have an idea," I told Zena. "I need all the personal items I took from the women who are still missing."
I was impressed by how organized Zena had the place already. In less than half a minute she had the envelopes on my desk, each envelope clearly labeled with the owner's name and a description of the contents in Zena's precise handwriting. With the latest batch from the Temple Of Hermia there were fifteen items, and I was pretty sure that if I had tried this on my own some of them would have been mixed up.
I removed the items one at a time and arranged them in three neat rows on my desk, five items in each row. Not one of these items had generated a single useful clue and I felt nothing from any of them as I handled them now. I pushed the rows of rings, jewelry, locks of hair, pieces of clothing, and other stuff closer together, spread my hands and touched as many as I could. I got a vague impression of cool, damp, darkness. Not enough to be useful, but a hair more than I got before.
I shoved the items into a pile so everything was in contact, then spread my hands over the pile so I was touching everything. When I opened myself I felt cold, wet darkness, definitely stronger now, but I still needed a direction. I shivered and pulled my hand away, still chilled, though I had sensed nothing malevolent in the area.
I arranged the items in a triangle, starting with a row of five at the top and finishing with a single jeweled earring at the point, then I pushed everything a bit closer together, making sure each item was touching as many others as possible.
I spread my hands over the array, braced myself and lowered my hands, trying to touch everything while opening myself for an impression. It came again like a big drop of icy water down my neck, and even though I was ready for it this time I almost broke contact. Somewhere behind me was a dark place, built of, or surrounded by cold, wet stone, but full of warm bodies. Lots of bodies. Life confined and concealed.
I broke contact and the impression faded but I remembered the direction. I cleared a spot on my desk, took out my big map of the city, folded it a few times so Old City section was on top, flattened it out and oriented it with the street outside. I got a ruler and set it on the map with one end on my office, the other pointing out into the bay.
I put one hand back on the pile and opened myself, concentrating on getting a direction. After my prior contact it came easier. I pivoted the ruler until it lined up somewhere through the back wall near the northwest corner of my office, then drew a line all the way to the coast, about half a mile away.
Zena watched the whole procedure without saying a word but I noticed she had been taking notes. She raised an eyebrow. I liked that trick; it looked good on her. I pointed. "Somewhere along this line are some or all of these missing women. I have to
check it out."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"It could be. That's why you'll contact the police and tell them where I went if I don't show up back here by sundown. See, another task to add to your growing list of responsibilities."
"Don't worry, I think I can handle the extra burden. You just be careful out there."
# # #
I went up to Rope Avenue, then headed west, up and over the hill. I was looking for a place that could have a dark, wet basement, big enough to hold a lot of women, but up here the basements were all carved into rock, and everything was wet from a recent shower so that didn't narrow my search at all. It also had to be a place where they could unload their victims from a cab without arousing suspicion, which did eliminate some buildings from consideration, but not enough to make my task much easier.
I had to do a lot of zigzagging from street to street in order to cover the line on my map and I reached the shore without finding a likely building. My eyes swept out to sea and lingered for a few seconds on the small island pit there, actually little more than a bleak rock poking out of the water. I brought my attention back to the shore and turned my gaze south, to the complex of government buildings on the hill about half a mile away. I'm sure they had plenty of dark, wet cells there, but it was so far off my line I knew it was not mot be my goal at this time.
I turned around to look back along my imaginary line, studying the buildings. A warehouse and a couple of tenement houses at the bottom of the hill looked like they might have big, damp basements, but the tenements looked full to bursting and had far too much traffic for anybody to smuggle in kidnap victims without being seen, and the warehouse stood out in the open. But I didn't rule any of them out. This was the type of neighborhood where people usually kept what they saw to themselves.
I decided to come back after dark, when surveillance would likely bear more fruit. From what I had gathered there was a kidnapping nearly every night, perhaps even more, and they always happened after dark, usually around midnight, but sometimes after. Most of the times I'd been given were just guesses.
I treated Zena to a dinner, during which we didn't talk shop at all, yet never lacked a subject for conversation. She came back to the office with me. "You don't have to do this," I said.
"I know. I want to."
I didn't argue. I appreciated what she was doing and I enjoyed her company too much to force her away.
I sat down at my desk and placed my hands on either side of the pile of personal items. "I wish I could apply my talent like this out there in the field, but I would need a wheelbarrow to cart all this stuff around." Actually, I could fit all of them into my pockets, but it would be inconvenient and it might not work and I didn't want to risk losing them.
"Don't be such a wimp. You can carry them in a gunny sack and that way when you get tired you can drag it around."
"Good idea. I'll just tie it to my ankle and that way I only have to think about it every second step."
"Maybe if you pick out the few with the strongest impression and take them along it might be enough, if you get close."
Zena helped me select three items which, when squeezed together, gave me a faint impression, as long as I was looking in approximately the right direction. I put them in my coat pocket, where I could touch them. Zena made a note of the ones I took and started putting the rest away.
"It's getting late. You might as well go home now."
"I don't think so. I'm waiting right here for you, no matter how long it takes. Don't worry, I made sure I got a comfy couch, and I know where all the facilities are."
She kissed me on the cheek as I went out, and when I looked back she was still standing in the doorway with light spilling out from behind her, cutting a very attractive silhouette. I stared a bit too long before I waved and she waved back.
Chapter 39
Because I already knew the direction I had to go, the impression from the items in my pocket was strong enough to guide me. I mostly followed the same trail I had earlier, except for a few detours on the opposite side of some blocks, and the result was the same, me standing on the shore without finding what I was looking for.
I turned around to take a look at the buildings I had suspected earlier but none of them attracted my attention. Making sure no one was taking too much notice of me, I reached into my pocket, wrapped my hand around the items and went into a light trance.
The pull came from behind me so I turned around and looked out into the darkness that spread over the sea, but I saw nothing, which didn't surprise me. There was no way the girls could be on a ship, it would have been noticed by now, and I had felt solid stone around them.
Wondering what to do next, I turned around and sat down on a rock, looking at Old City, because that is not something you want to turn your back to. There were a lot of missing women and the police were completely baffled, which had sent desperate parents to me, but despite my talent and this latest lead I still came up short.
I watched a semicircle of moon rise over the roofs on the top of the hill, illuminating patches of cloud that still covered eighty percent of the sky. If the clouds continued to break up we could be in for some decent weather tomorrow. I stared at the moon for a while, wondering why it always looks bigger when it's near the horizon.
After that fruitless speculation I turned around and scanned the sea, searching for an answer. Moonlight struck the rock, showing me the face, stark against the black sea, barren and devoid of any buildings. The women couldn't be hidden there, could they? But I had seen darkness and sensed dampness, suggesting they might be underground, and I once heard a theory that there had been a temple on that rock, so if that temple had a basement, they could be hidden there.
But how could they get their prisoners out there without being seen, even at night? A boat could do it a few times, but every trip increased the risk of detection, and flying them, even if it was possible, would be even more conspicuous, which left underwater or underground. Underwater, like invisibility, was tough even for a Master, so my bet was on a tunnel.
I thought about renting a boat and rowing to the rock to explore it, but the best I can do for invisibility is wear black at night and hide behind something, so I was pretty sure the kidnappers would spot me, especially now that the moon was up. I would be better off finding the landward end of the tunnel, then getting help from the police, but the police would require some hard evidence.
I reassessed the buildings nearest the shore, most of which I had rejected earlier because I was looking for a basement large enough to conceal at least a couple of dozen women, but it only had to be large enough to conceal one end of a tunnel. My talent didn't help and I couldn't get into the buildings to search them.
A cab clattered by and headed up the hill, which made me wonder where the cult could hide a cab while they offloaded a noncooperative woman into their tunnel?
From the point where my line intersected the shore I checked out a three block radius. I didn't think the tunnel would be any longer than that but I didn't rule out the possibility. I found several buildings that might work, and a couple of likely candidates. Keeping my eyes on the most likely buildings and my ears open for cabs, I wandered the area.
Not many cabs came through this section, and only a few of them stopped, because most of the residents couldn't afford such luxuries and never went far from home anyhow. I spent a lot of time between cabs loitering in shadows and watching the local traffic, most of it on foot.
When I heard a cab stop on the next block, without being too obvious about it, I hurried around the corner so I could see who got out where, but there was no sign of any cab, even though I had heard it just seconds ago.
As I cautiously made my way down the dark alley a large set of double doors swung out from the side of a house and the cab emerged, its lanterns turned down low. I crouched into a ball against the wall of a building until the cab drove out of the other end of the alley. A lot of times people just see what they expect to
see and the illusion of invisibility is easy to achieve.
When I stood up the double doors had closed. I went to take a closer look but all I saw was ordinary wall, until I made a fingerlight and saw a thin, vertical crack where the doors had split. I poked it with my forefinger and it moved. It was opening. Before I could think about what to do a voice beside me said, "What are you doing here?"
I turned my head and saw a man twenty feet away approaching with a sword pointed at me. Two more men, carrying cudgels like my own, stepped out of a door behind him. Before I could think about making a run for it the wall swung open further to reveal four more men armed with clubs and nightsticks.
"Get inside."
I unlimbered my cudgel with one hand and dug out my little brass knocker with the other.
"We know who you are and what you do. You're the guy who was talking to those priestesses in the Temple of Hermia. You interfered with an acquisition a few weeks ago and you scarred what's-his-name's arm. You won't get away this time."
"Maybe I can break a few limbs this time around." I squeezed my fist around my little knocker and smacked my weighted cudgel against the side of my leg. The sound seemed to intimidate them a little but they were clever, all of them keeping their distance while they spread out to surround me. I kept turning, swinging my cudgel to discourage attacks from behind, waiting for someone to charge so I could bust a skull, hoping they didn't all charged at once, in which case I'd be lucky to get in more than a couple of hits.
I tried to break through the circle with a sudden rush but the whole circle moved with me so I didn't get any nearer the edge. Something hooked my left ankle from behind and pulled my foot out from under me. A hard object bounced off the back of my head, shattering the last vestige of my equilibrium. As I fell I saw the whole pack already closing in.
I got in more than a few good hits, and a couple of them would be limping tomorrow, but I obtained more new bruises than all of them put together. They weren't gentle, but they wanted to subdue me, not beat me to a pulp, so they basically just piled on top of me and pinned me down with their weight.