When Daniel woke again, it was the last day of the partnership. He was immediately put to work repairing and tuning the enchantments Tobias and his crew had been using to monitor the town. After dragging that out for a full twenty minutes to avoid embarrassing whichever scavenger had put up the spells, Daniel decided to kill time by making a talisman that would expand the magical senses of the user. As he did that, Rachel caught him up on the events of the past few days.
“Most of what we’ve picked up hasn’t had anything to do with Buchanan, really,” she said as she watched her computer screen. “I mean, there were some vampires and also a vargulf that were actually from the massacre, but a lot of what we picked up on was just small-time trouble. There’s minor fey, disgruntled spirits of one kind or another, and of course there’s always the witches.”
“Witches?” asked Daniel. “Since when did witchcraft qualify as small-time trouble?”
“Since some idiot made a great, big book of the stuff and dropped it on the Internet,” said Rachel. “It’s all minor spells, the kinds of things you can do without too many blood sacrifices or anything else that might scare someone away, but it’s enough for a nasty bit of mischief. Turns out there’s a wannabe coven somewhere around here that has gotten a bit of a boost from all the dark power that’s been flying around recently. Shelley put on her scary face and did an intervention with them on the dangers of black magic.”
Daniel laughed at the idea and did his best to pretend that the very thought of Shelley’s scary face wasn’t enough to strike terror into his heart.
“What’s the big deal with Buchanan anyway?” asked Daniel. “I mean, I get that a lot of people died and that’s sad, but in my experience no one really takes the Jaegers all that seriously. Not while there are still knights and centurions running around anyway. To be honest, I don’t really get why anyone bothered putting so much trouble into attacking the estate.” Then after a thoughtful pause he added, “By the way, please don’t ever tell Shelley I said any of that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Rachel with a shudder. “Anyway, the reason it’s such a big deal is because the folks at Buchanan are the only people who give a crap what goes on south of the border. They’re the main contacts all the knights and hunters down there have with the States, and since said knights and hunters don’t have the resources to deal with any serious badness on their own that’s kind of a big deal. Besides, anytime there’s a big massacre like this you have the ripple effect from monsters hyped up on blood or whatever they happen to like and thinking they’re the next big thing in whatever town they happen to roll into next.”
Daniel had to replay that information in his head as he split his attention between the conversation and the talisman. “You’re saying this is political?” he asked. “Someone wants Gwendolyn cut off from Latin America?”
“Maybe,” Rachel said. “I’m not sure it’s a big dastardly plan like that, but I’m sure there’s plenty of undead down south who’ve been holding grudges against the Jaegers at Buchanan.”
“I guess it makes sense then,” said Daniel. Then he frowned as he put down the completed talisman. “I really thought this would take longer.”
He was again feeling a strong urge to keep busy. He’d failed to mention the second dream to anyone, although he’d noticed Ephraim giving him knowing glances almost as soon as he woke up. The whole idea of having an enormous, life-altering decision right around the corner wasn’t something he liked dwelling on, which was strange when he considered the fact since that was exactly the kind of thing one is supposed to do to prepare for such matters. Nonetheless, he didn’t like to be alone with the knowledge those two had left him.
“Well,” said Rachel. “I’m off in five minutes. I don’t know if there’s a local taxi service or anything, but if you can figure out some transportation by then I know a distraction we could both use.” Then she looked him directly in the eyes, grinned, and said in her most sing-song voice, “Shopping trip!”
* * * * *
Fights are exhausting. Waiting for a fight to break out at any second is also exhausting, though in a different way. Three days into the battle to reclaim Buchanan, Melody wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or exasperated to see yet another wave of attackers coming from the estate.
She did know, however, that she was frustrated. The wave coming toward them was composed mostly of spirits and conjured beasts; all things that the enemy could toss aside at no real cost. There was a storm cloud overhead that rippled with gates to Morpheum and the Veil while at the same time protecting the things in Buchanan from the light of the sun, and those of the fiends skilled in witchcraft called their mercenaries down from them. Of course, there were some that did join in the attacks, but they were either of such low ranks that the leaders of the slaughter doubtless viewed them as no true loss or else so strong and precise that they were able to engage in the conflict momentarily and then retreat before someone of true power could confront them.
As Melody watched the new horde rushing at them she almost missed the chimera that slithered through the tall grass. It’s conjured body had been created using the remains of a scorpion, a rattlesnake, and a mountain lion and it had taken its general form from the serpent while the scorpion contributed a cluster of needle-like stingers and the great cat had given it’s sheer size and strength. As it came at her, its tail quickly rising into a ready position, the changeling raised her wand and shouted, “Gliwung!”
A gout of golden fire that seemed almost like honey when it first appeared shot from the wand and enveloped the chimera. The beast had time for one ghastly howl before it literally unraveled into several ribbons of flesh that floated off into the night and dissolved in a cloud of ashes. Melody had always been better at the Way of Exultation than the Way of Trembling, and the flame was just one of several versions she’d made of the Helsing’s standard exultant working to dispel dark enchantments and conjurations.
As the rest of the onslaught closed in, Melody took a few steps up on the barricade and began to swing her wand up over her head like David readying his sling. More golden embers sprung from the wand in a growing circle of bright, warm power, occasionally shedding comets that twirled and danced as if playing. She recited an incantation as she called up the flames, the words coming to her in a rush of impulse as her fey nature stirred and reared up within her. Then she let loose and the whole inferno shattered into dozens of comets that all went crashing into the oncoming wave of paranormal malice along with the spells of every other battlemage at the encampment. For a few moments no one turn their eyes to anything but the otherworldly tempest that stretched across the battlefield. Fire is a common favorite among battlemages, but there were also javelins of ice, conjured swarms, counterspells, illusions, blades of sheer force, spheres of acid, and jinxes of all kinds. It was a scene of such dazzling brightness that Melody felt certain one glimpse of it would provide any artist with a lifetime of inspiration. Then that tableau of perfect Carrollian madness dissolved and the horde began to regain its momentum.
Melody stepped back as the swordsmen and other brawlers came forward. There was a moment of fluttering darkness as Shiori plunged into the fray, and she could hear Vera methodically pumping arcane metal into anything she felt could best use it. Then the changeling took in a breath, focused on her own role, and raised her wand again. She stunned a hellhound as it struggled over the barricade. A hulking, amphibious fiend choked to death on rose petal, a few of which drifted out of its mouth and it struggled for its life. A minor hunter spirit found itself bound in chains of light just long enough for knight to strike it down. She fell into a rapid routine of spellcasting that went on for a few minutes before something crashed through the defenses a few yards away.
The thing was at least eleven feet long, it had five arms, a thick tangle of tentacles trailed behind it, a purple cloak covered in runes was draped loosely over it, and it had three heads. The kami didn’t seem particularly interested in the fighters it knocked aside, but then it didn’t need to be; there were plenty of much more bloodthirsty nasties following behind it. Shiori tried to get to the spirit but she got caught up amidst the fiends that had swarmed over the fallen warriors, and Vera was too busy firing into the bottleneck of attackers where it had broken down the defenses. The demands of the battlefield prevented either of them from doing anything as the spirit continued pushing deeper and deeper into the encampment, it’s fingers shooting bolts of power that seemed merely to feel their way around the metaphysical landscape of the area. It’s heads were mounted on long, serpentine necks and each one seemed to be a crude combination of a human face and that of at least two other creatures. Those heads bobbed and swerved as they observed the grounds, barely noticing the men and women who tried to halt it. But it did seem to flinch or make tiny groans of displeasure in response to a few more successful attacks. It flinched when the butterflies came.
The butterfly was the very first spell Melody had ever learned. The conjuration was mostly an instrument through which she cast other spells, but it also had its own uses. Now she multiplied the spell’s effect as she had done with the fire. And because every spell a mage casts leaves an imprint on their savanos (which happens to be a large part of how mages get better and quicker at magic as they go on) she was able to put a tiny bit of all her magical history into the spell. It was the single greatest working of which the knight was capable without a half hour ritual. Soon there were scores of multicolored butterflies drifting toward the spirit with wings like crystallized flame, bladed legs, and the will of their mistress emanating from them like light from a torch. The cloud settled around the spirit, some of them lighting on its hide to slice and burn it while others hovered a few feet away. The bright wings of the butterflies caught and reflected arcane energies, bouncing rays of power to each other and the spirit to form a cage of glimmering power.
The spirit twitched at the butterflies. Several more evocations passed through the cage, and it waved its arms to swat the mages and their workings aside. Melody allowed herself a smirk as others joined the bombardment and smoking wounds began to emerge on the fiend. Then its heads froze. Up until now they had been staring aimlessly at the ground as their necks swerved to and fro, but now they turned up to glare at their enemies with horrid intensity. Then all three mouths howled like a choir of mad prophets, the limbs shot out in precise and furious motions, and all the workings that had been aimed at it sizzled like cheap fireworks. By the time Melody had regained the ability to think straight the kami had already risen into the sky and shot off to the southeast.
“Oh crap,” said a mage in a very small voice. “Crap. Crap. Crap...”
“What?” asked Melody.
“That was a spirit of arcane knowledge,” said the timid caster. “I think it was looking for this camp’s seal on Professor Haywood’s circle. If it screwed with that then the whole circle would go poof.” The mage stopped, inhaled slowly, and muttered a short string of obscenities. “I’m pretty sure Professor Haywood is over that way right now, over where the spirit is heading.”
Melody sighed. She had been just been feeling the latest adrenaline rush fade away, but it seemed now like she’d have to find the energy for just a bit longer. It would have been impossible just weeks ago, but now the constant exercise of her powers and the abundance of magical energy over the past few days had her feeling more in touch with her fey nature than she had at any other point in her life.
“I can catch up,” the changeling said.
“Melody,” said Shiori slowly. She was standing over the rapidly dissipating body of a conjured beast staring straight at her friend. “I know what you’re thinking. Now I want you to head deeper into camp and take a--”
Melody shot into the sky as she rode the wind in the direction the kami had gone.
“Dammit, Melody!”
* * * * *
“And that’s four,” said Daniel as he tied the hexbag closed.
“What’s that one do?” asked Rachel.
The changeling was fiddling with something of her own as she asked the question: a teddy bear into which she had already inserted seven or eight small devices and items. They had both finished their shopping and were now in the back of the van as it went on its way to Fresno.
“It’s a sort of booby trap, I guess,” said the wizard. “I hide it under a thing or a place that’s been enchanted and it makes the magic go...sour. Or maybe unstable is a better word. Whatever the case, the next person to try to access the enchantment gets a nasty surprise. What’s the bear do?”
“Not much,” said Rachel with a shrug. “In fact it doesn’t do anything without the right enchantments. Once those are done I like to use these as lab assistants since they’re good for lots of minor tasks, but you can also load spells into them and then send them out for bigger tasks. They usually burn themselves up if you try that, though.”
“Wait,” said Daniel. “You can do animation spells? That’s serious magic.”
Rachel blushed and said, “It’s not that big. I use an amulet so it’s easier, but animation opens a lot of doors in technomancy.”
Daniel took out a notebook and and began making a list of his remaining purchases. He had been thinking of making a bracelet, and that would require at least seven hours of work to put together and there wasn’t much more than two hours left on the trip. He continued to chat with Rachel about the finer points of their work until she became drowsy and politely gave up on the fight for consciousness. At that point Daniel had nothing to do but continue his design. Until their final pit stop at least.
“You wanna to talk about?” asked Ephraim.
Daniel tore his gaze from the abundant display of junk food to stare at the sin-eater standing next to him. Ephraim, for his part, kept his voice down and only momentarily glanced at Daniel.
“Talk about what?” asked Daniel.
This time Ephraim turned his eyes from the snacks to look the wizard directly in the eye as he said, “You know what I’m talking about.”
Daniel felt himself tense up at the thought of his conversation with Solomon and the Morrigan.
“It’s just not something I’m ready to deal with,” he said. It seemed hard to breathe. “I mean, there’s so much to deal with and I feel like I don’t have any of the knowledge I need to handle--” Daniel stopped, his eyes narrowing. “You have no idea what’s going on with me, do you? You’re just trying to get me to tell you by acting all knowing and mysterious.”
“Maybe,” said Ephraim. “Look, there’s everything that went down with Fellbrook, there’s my backwash afterwards, and there’s something else that you really don’t want to let on about. I’ve picked up some vague feelings about it and I know you really need to talk about it, but I don’t know exactly what it is. So are you going to tell me about it?”
Daniel opened his mouth fully intending to tell Ephraim to fuck off and to take his delusions of shrinkhood with him. Instead he said, “I’d rather not do this with the others around.”
In response Ephraim reached over and touched two fingers to Daniel’s left wrist. There was a feeling like static electricity and then the sin-eater said, “Don’t worry about them” without moving his lips.
“Nice trick,” Daniel thought back. “This still doesn’t mean I want to talk, though.”
“I never thought you wanted to talk,” said Ephraim as he picked up a bag of chips and went to the cashier. “That would stupid. But I know that you need to talk about it.”
Daniel didn’t say anything as he bought a bag of skittles and went back to the van. A few minutes after he’d settled down again he said, “Rosmarus is the only real home I’ve ever known. I have friends, a mentor, and even a bedroom there. I’ve always known that they handle some...morally questionable jobs--hell, I’ve done some of those myself--but I always figured that they were just an instrument for resolving conflicts as cleanly and effectively as possible. I thought of it that way because it was the only place I’d ever felt like I’d belonged and I didn’t want to endanger that. Now I find out that someone arranged for me to be in Fresno and for you to grab me, and that the whole reason for it was to take me out of Rosmarus and allow me to see--” he stopped. Even though none of this was being said aloud, Daniel felt his throat clenching up. “It was all so I could see what it might be like to have another kind of home. I got to see how you treat each other, how I could fit in, and how the rest of the world (including Rosmarus) looks from inside Helsing. And I’ve been told that soon I’m going to have to choose where I belong and I’m not so comfortable with Rosmarus anymore but I’m also really not ready for a huge commitment like signing up with the Helsing. It’s all just too huge.”
Ephraim had climbed into the backseat with Daniel when they all got back to the van, and now he sat there in silence for a few moments. After a few seconds Daniel heard Ephraim speaking into his minds once more.
“My parents were zealots,” he said. “The term usually refers to people who are training to be knights, but it can also mean anyone who works with the Helsing without having the rank of knight or higher. Technically even you’re a zealot. Anyway, they were basically part-timers whom the knights would call if they needed extra feet on the ground. After the Purge that made them targets, and there were plenty of fiends out for revenge or to prove themselves that they had to watch out for. My dad died a little before I was born, and my mom was crippled (both physically and mentally) before I hit puberty. I’m related to Holly Esther Haywood on my father’s side, so there were plenty of places I could have been sent after that. But even before my mother was hurt my talents had manifested, and I wasn’t shy about looking for any evil I happened to smell. Eventually I got sent to the Jensens simply because they were the only ones who could handle me and teach me how to deal with my djinni nature. I’m not going to dig up the deep, dark secrets of anyone else, but I can tell you that happy, stable homes aren’t known for producing monster hunters. And the Helsing are the monsters that all monsters fear, as the saying goes.”
They both allowed that to sink in for a while before Daniel asked, “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” said Ephraim slowly. “That most of us don’t join the Helsing because we’ve chosen this life. We join because this is the life we were born into, and the Helsing give us the training, the resources, and the relationships to survive it and to live it well.”
Daniel waited for Ephraim to say something else, but after a brief silence he realized that the sin-eater was done. After a few more moments, he decided that he’s also said all he wanted to and chose to spend the rest of the ride fiddling with his design. There were about forty minutes left, according to Shelley’s regular updates, which seemed like plenty of time for casual work. Of course, in the end most of that time wound up being spent looking out the window.
“Something’s burning,” said Shelley as they approached the city.
That was all the warning any of them had before they went over a ward that had been laid over the highway. The arcane marking clawed at their spirits, spouted hostile magic over the vehicle, and sent up an alarm to those who had inscribed it.
“Something’s burning,” said Shelley as they approached the city.
That was all the warning any of them had before they went over a ward that had been laid over the highway. The arcane marking clawed at their spirits, spouted hostile magic over the vehicle, and sent up an alarm to those who had inscribed it.
* * * * *
Riding the wind was like being inside a giant kaleidoscope. Melody’s view of the world around her was fractured into dozens of shifting shards, some of them showing a normal, human perspective; some of them showing areas miles like the lenses of a telescope; many of them displaying bright currents of magical energy; a few showing the traces of days past or hints of those to come; and some showing bizarre images that hinted at the raw, untempered reality behind the curtain of mortal life. It had taken her years of training to make sense of the images, and even with that much practice it would have been impossible if not for her fey lineage. Not that she needed to make much sense of the images tonight. All she was looking for was the spirit that had ravaged her camp.
Melody found the kami less than a minute after it finished its own flight, and she circled above it a few times to assess the situation before she dived in. As expected, the kami had sought out the point at which Archmagus Haywood was still inscribing her circle, the point at which the enchantment was most easily unraveled. Now it hovered above the archmage and her entourage casting a magical assault down on them with at least as much ferocity as it had displayed at the end of its earlier attack. At the same time a small army of wraiths had formed into an assault of their own, forcing the archmage and her guards to divide their attention. They were holding off the spirits pretty effectively so far, but the wraiths were slowly tightening their circle around the mages, and every now and then one would burst forward to maul a weaker mage.
The changeling girl stopped circling and dropped out of the sky. As she fell, Melody allowed all but the faintest strands of the fey power in which she had been enfolded to fall away. It was a difficult trick that she still couldn’t hold for long, but it allowed her to retain some of that supernatural speed and grace while still interacting with the world. She drew a blessed silver knife in each hand as she hurtled toward the kami, and she shifted her descent. Melody should have landed a few feet to the right of the thing’s spine (assuming it had a spine) but instead she slammed the knife in her left hand into its back and continued the fall in a curve as if gravity had simply changed directions. Melody dragged the knife through the kami’s hide and swung upward, plunging the second knife into a small wound in its underbelly. The kami shrieked with all three of its mouths and two of its arms instantly shot towards the girl. She let go of the knife in her right hand and jumped over onto one of the arms, slashing the other knife around at every opportunity as she did so. Melody shot from one arm to another like a squirrel moving through foliage, her knife darting to and fro as she did. She clambered up onto the thing’s back and sprinted up to the center neck. She ducked under a thin, grasping hand and lopped off a finger while she was at it. She dropped down, took hold of the neck, and swung forward to drive the knife into one of the kami’s foreheads. She was in the exact middle of her swing when two wraiths drove their ethereal claws into her.
Cold agony shot through Melody where the wraiths touched her, and the longer they held her the less she was able to keep her thoughts straight. Fear, nausea, anger, and dozens of different memories tore through her in rapid succession, threatening to crush her sanity under their sheer weight. It wasn’t until the kami wrapped her in the fingers of a single enormous hand that she was able to really focus on the present situation. Two of its heads and most of its limbs had returned to the work of overwhelming the archmage’s crew, but the remaining head lingered mere inches from Melody. It took a few sniffs, its tongue slid out to trace the shape of Melody’s face and neck, and then it unhinged its jaws and slowly advanced.
A pillar of pure, white light burned through the kami’s third neck. Then, before the kami had time to react, another pillar pierced its torso. The spirit dropped Melody as it writhed and wailed in agony, and as she fell again she was tangled in a large, warm jacket that seemed to come out of nowhere. The wraiths had fled for fear of the light and it was several seconds before Melody had pieced together enough of her mind to try to make sense of what was now happening.
A second group of mages had just arrived on a pair of off-road vehicles, one of whom seemed to be guiding her to the ground.
“Mind if I take that back?” asked the mage after Melody touched back to solid ground. “That was some nice work by the way. Up until the last bit, at least.”
The changeling blushed as she handed him the jacket.
“I don’t usually do the heavy lifting,” she said. “It’s mostly Shiori or Vera that fight the big bads.”
“Don’t sell yourself short Ms. Suffield,” said another man. “You handled yourself extremely well up there.”
The man took the time to look her in the eye and give the impression that he meant the compliment, but he still didn’t lose a step as he advanced on the wraith swarm. Almost as soon as he finished speaking to Melody he pointed a staff at the spirits, began reciting something in Hebrew, and showered them in the same brilliant light that had chased away the kami. The light wasn’t focused as it had been before, but the wraiths that were caught within its broad radiance shrunk back anyway and all seemed much more transparent than they had been a moment before. Meanwhile, the other mages were advancing on the wraiths with a cascade of various spells, one of them even launching a flare packed with incense into their midsts. As soon as the wraiths started to pull back the man who had driven away the kami came back to check on Melody.
“Hold still now, wraith attacks are nothing to joke about,” he said as he knelt down over her.
“You’re Samuel Rosenberg,” said Melody without preamble. “You’re the exorcist that trained my friend. You’re Ephraim’s mentor.”
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