17
Since we were having guests, Tiffany took the time to clean out the workroom in the basement to make it look presentable. I wasn't sure what to make of it without the year’s worth of accumulated candle wax in the quarters and the almost permanent calk markings on the floor. Unless I missed my guess, she aired out the place a bit too. It seemed to be missing the musty smell that I always enjoyed about my workroom. Even the bookshelves lacked their layer of dust. All of our jars of herbs had been cleaned and seemed to be in alphabetical order. And our magical instruments were shinier than I’d seen them in years. If I didn't know better, I’d swear that Tiffany was trying to impress someone.
Four extra chairs lined up against the wall in front of the bookcase. It was never a good idea to have extra people in a circle when you are trying to communicate with a spirit. So Tiffany arranged for the surplus people to sit outside the circle where they could do as little damage as possible and be as safe as possible. Tiffany’d already cast the preliminary circles around the chairs for a bit of added protection. They’d be finished right before the main circle went up, effectively locking the occupant into the chair. She’d also already done as much preliminary work as possible in the actual laying out of the main circle. All the sigils were carefully drawn on the concrete floor. When I joined the three lines that had been left open for us to walk through and made a final pass around the circle, we’d be locked in as well. The circle for the spirit of Barry Crabtree was complete and waiting for its occupant.
Tiffany insisted that I wear my actual working robes for the calling. She wore hers. It’s a well-known fact that you can cast magic without the robes. You can cast magic in street clothes, which is what I normally do. Or you can go for the nudist look, which is okay in certain situations, but the robes are not nearly as necessary as some practitioners would like people to think. When you trace the real meaning of the robes back, it is twofold. First, the robes allow for a worker of magic to be covered head to toe but the garment is loose enough not to restrict blood flow. Nothing interrupts a meditation faster than some body part going to sleep because your jeans were too tight and they cut off the flow of blood to your legs, toes, or whatever. The other big reason to wear a robe, particularly one that you only use for magic, is it helps set your mind in the right state to do magic. If you follow a set pattern when you get ready for magic each time, your mind begins to fall more easily into the state to do magic. For a lot of people, this means putting on a robe. Plus the robes are showy and I think Tiffany was shooting for showy tonight.
Tiffany's was a stunning silver lamé number that was a very basic cut but accented her cleavage, and with its gold adornments around the neck and sleeves, it accented her golden hair perfectly in candlelight. My robe, on the other hand, was basic black. There was nothing special about it, just basic black, floor length and I made sure that the sleeves billowed out a bit to give me a little extra room. I knew, like me, that Tiffany had a spare concentrated knife strapped to her thigh, in addition to her athame that rode in its sheath hanging from her cable tow. You can never tell what might happen in these situations so it is best to be prepared.
The altar was laid out in classic precision with everything we would need should Alexia have trouble calling to Barry's spirit. It looked to me that Tiffany had actually polished the pentacle. I began to wonder how Tiffany had time to set up the appointments, get the workroom so tidy and do everything else that she did. I suppose it was just one of those secrets that all executive assistants have, how to get so much done that the boss stands around and wonders about it. Either that or she has an army of gnomes that come in and handle things for her while she gets her nails done.
True to Tiffany's prediction, Daphnia showed up early with Alexia and William in tow. Alexia’s excitement didn’t reflect in the other two. William looked positively bored. He had removed his tie and coat, but otherwise wore the same shirt and slacks he had on earlier. A feeling of intense control and worry settled over Daphnia. I could feel she was trying to shield something from us, but I couldn’t tell what. I often find empaths annoying. They either wear their hearts on their sleeves with their feelings and anything they’re picking up from everyone else out for the world to see. Or, they clamp down so tight they go into ice princess mode where nothing can touch them and they feel cold and aloof. Daphnia seemed the mistress of ice princesses tonight. I’d never noticed that about her before in our limited encounters and I wondered if this was her normal feel or if it was something new? And if it was something new, what had changed in her that made it necessary?
Alexia was the bright spot in the room, both emotionally and physically. She had changed into a bright orange t-shirt and cap with NASCAR logos on them. She wandered around the room as far from Daphnia as the woman would let her go, looking at the various things in the room. I noticed her caution when moving around the chalk lines on the floor. The books and herbs seemed especially interesting to her.
“I've never heard of most of these books,” she said to Tiffany who stood closer to her.
I made last-minute adjustments to the altar, not that much needed adjusting. I just wanted to seem like it mattered to me how things were laid out.
“Most of these books are not available through normal channels,” Tiffany explained. Well that was an understatement. The Council went out of its way to control the magical knowledge available to the public. They controlled the major publishing houses to the extent that nothing that worked, without at least a bit of natural talent, was released. If you have ever wondered why there are only a couple of places that put out books on magic and why so many of the books just seem like rehashing of the same old stuff, well the Council is behind it. They say it is their duty to keep the public safe. I guess ignorance is bliss in this case.
“Mr. Peters, where did you get this?” Daphnia demanded, hefting my copy of the legal list of ODs that could be summoned. “You are not a licensed summoner.”
Tiffany intercepted her, snatching the book from her upraised hand. “Ethan is not a licensed OD summoner, but I am and that book is mine. We often share this workspace and I tend to use it more than he does for a lot of things.” Tiffany returned the book to the shelf with a flourish.
Dusty led Paul Ramirez down at that point and everyone stopped to look at them.
“What is he doing here?” Daphnia asked in a high, almost screechy voice. I’d expected William would’ve been the one doing all the demanding and such, but he remained quiet, letting Daphnia take charge of everything. I bet much like Dusty did every day, he was taking everything in, and if nothing else, it would all show up in a Council report later.
“Officer Ramirez is the Council liaison with the police department,” I explained coldly. “He’s also investigating what’s going right now. Some of the information that we might get from the spirit of Barry Crabtree might be of interest to him and his part of the investigation.” My dislike for the woman was growing exponentially every time she opened her mouth. I cocked an eyebrow at Paul in question and he shrugged. I guess he had no idea what was up her ass any more than I did.
“I'll be making an official report to the Council board from my viewpoint once the case is resolved,” Paul said calmly as he walked over toward William. “So how's life Bill?”
“Doing good, how's fatherhood?” The werewolf extended a hand.
“A lot more tiring than I would’ve thought.”
“So I guess this is everyone except the spirit, so let's go ahead and get started.” I stepped to the center of the room. “Dusty, if you, Paul, William and Daphnia would take you seats.” I gestured to the chairs lined up by the bookcase.
“Mr. Peters, I’ll be in the circle with Alexia,” Daphnia interrupted.
“No you won't,” I responded quietly. “You’re an empath. If something goes wrong, you’re the one most likely, other than the medium, to provide an easy host for an unwanted spirit. And if I remember your Council dossier, you’ve had no formal high-magic training, and ther
efore, you’d be a liability to us. I’ll not put any of us, yourself included, in harm's way by including you in a circle. I agreed to let you attend. I didn’t agree to let you participate. A safe place has already been arranged for you where you can observe the proceedings and that’s where you will be.”
Her mouth opened, closed and opened again. “Alexia is under my care.”
I focused my most stern stare on the empath and forced as much emotion as I could into it. “Yes she is and that’s why you’re being allowed to witness the calling from outside the circle. Otherwise you’d be witnessing the circle from outside the room. And I warn you that if you move outside the protective circle that’s cast around your chair, I won’t be held responsible for the circumstances.” I glanced at William and Paul, both nodded to show that they had witnessed my declaration. If she was going to be bitchy about things, it was a good idea to have backup witnesses who had no emotional bonds to me. That was another reason I’d invited Paul to come watch.
I gestured again to the chairs. “So please take a seat so we can get this show on the road.” Daphnia complied, although the look on her face said she didn’t like it.
Tiffany took Alexia's elbow and led her toward the altar. “Alexia, we'll be over here.”
Once all four spectators were in their chairs, I closed the individual circles, taking the opportunity to grab a quick kiss from Dusty. I felt each circle flare up as it was completed. I had every confidence in Tiffany's casting, so I didn’t worry once the circles were in place. I felt a definite shift in the air of the room as Daphnia's circle closed around her, locking the empath away from everyone.
The larger circle took longer to close, requiring me to sketch a symbol of closing between the second and third circles to complete them. A sense of peace settled as I felt the circle rise up around us. I always love the way the world feels from inside a circle. It was deceptively comforting and secure. That is one of the big catches to the feeling inside a well-cast circle. It’s like swimming in the middle of an ocean with the energy swelling around you ebbing and flowing like soothing water currents. You can feel the vastness of it. It can make you seem totally alone, and you never realize that if you make the wrong move something can come and gobble you up just like a shark.
Alexia stood next to Tiffany with wide eyes, reflecting the wonder of feeling a well-crafted circle come to life around her, sort of like a kid watching for the first time as the lights on a Christmas tree come on. Her mouth opened in a silent “Wow.” Well the kid definitely had potential if her reaction to a circle going up around her was that profound.
“Okay Alexia, we’re going to try this using your ability as a medium first. Go ahead and take a seat.” I gestured to the large pillows that Tiffany placed in the circle so we could get comfortable on the floor around the altar.
I settled down on a cushion as did Tiffany. We ended up as we had planned, with Alexia between us. “Now Alexia, what do you normally do to try and contact a spirit?”
She looked a bit confused. “Well normally there’s not a try about it. Normally they just show up and start talking to me. Some like Grandma never really leave after that, or don't leave for long.”
“Okay, so what were you doing when you first started talking to your Grandmother?”
She thought about it for a bit. “I think I first noticed her when I’d been going through an old photo album. I’d been looking at a picture of her and suddenly I felt someone standing behind me and there she was. She's been with me ever since. Well, unless she is off harassing mom. She's not too fond of mom and the way she treats me.”
“Alright, so what about other spirits you’ve talked to? How did you know they were around?”
“Normally that happens if I’m close to where the spirit is, they just start talking. Sometimes if it’s like a haunted house, there can be a lot of them that show up and want me to listen to them. It can be very overwhelming.” She looked a bit perplexed.
“Since we can't get you into the place where Barry was killed right now, and doing this from the morgue is also something we can't pull off, we’re going to have to try to expand your abilities a bit.” I used my most reassuring voice, really hoping to inspire her confidence that she could do this.
Tiffany reached over and took Alexia's hand in hers, drawing the girl’s attention to her. “A lot of other mediums find it helpful to have something of the person they’re trying to contact, or some emotional bond with them.”
“That's why you’re thinking that I can reach Barry, because we were dating,” The girl nodded. “You know he gave me this shirt.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the NASCAR logo on the orange shirt. “It's my favorite shirt.”
Tiffany nodded slightly. “Try and remember back to how you felt when he gave it to you, what it was like with him there giving it to you. See him in your mind. Reach out to him.” Her voice was smooth as silk and I could feel a tingle of energy as she reached out trying to help Alexia into a trance that’d help contact Barry.
There was a slight noise from outside the circle. I glanced toward the chairs and noticed that Daphnia was now slumped in hers, unconscious. Evidently, she’d triggered the internal protection spell that Tiffany laid on the chairs to prevent the occupants from leaving. Yeah, it was a bit controlling, and it would be counterproductive if something got out of the main circle and tried to go after the inhabitants of the chairs, but it kept the people in the chairs and out of our hair. Dusty knew to stay seated until the circle came down. I didn't feel sorry for Daphnia. She’d probably be awake in a minute or two. It wasn’t that strong of a spell.
A sharp intake of breath drew my attention back to Tiffany and Alexia. There, standing in the circle that had been laid for him, was the spirit of Barry Crabtree.
I had to say that death appeared to suit him a bit better than life, or at least what I had seen of his life so far. His thick bright red hair hung down past his broad shoulders, his full beard was neatly trimmed and his pale checks finished out a flawless peaches-and-cream complexion. It didn't appear that he had an ounce of surplus weight on him and I knew from the morgue that, in life, he had more than his share. Many psi-positive people had full control over their spirit form. Barry Crabtree had caught on quickly that he was dead and fashioned his form to his liking. The black leather duster over black t-shirt and pants along with a black cowboy hat made him look like a ghost cowboy from Hell. All that was missing were the spurs and six shooters.
“Barry?” Alexia asked sounding uncertain.
“Alexia, you’re alright.” He made a move to leave the circle and the edges flashed brightly, forcing him back. He looked around confused.
“I'm fine, Barry. You're in a magic circle. Sorry but you can't get out until Mr. Peters opens the circle.”Alexia explained to the ghost.
“Ethan, please,” I laughed. I hated people calling me Mr. Peters. It sounded weird, almost obscene. “Barry, we need to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure, I'm just happy that Alexia’s alright. After I died I saw the spirit leaving her, I knew it wasn't her that had killed me. My Alexia would never hurt me.” He settled into the center of the circle, carefully avoiding the edges, and although he looked like he had the urge to pace, he stood still.
“Oh Barry, I’m so sorry it happened.” Alexia started to rise from her cushion, but Tiffany stopped her with a hand on her arm and a shake of her head. “All I remember is opening the door, then you were dead on the floor and your baseball bat was in my hand.”
“It's okay, baby.” He started forward again, like he wanted to comfort her, but the looming circle stopped him. He turned to me, eyes pleading. “What can I do to help?”
“What do you remember?”
“I heard a knock at the door. Alexia answered it while I was in the kitchen. I heard her open and then close the door. When I came back into the living room, she was standing there with this strange look on her face and my baseball bat in her hands. She didn't say anything. She ju
st started hitting me with the bat. It didn't take long before she had killed me, but she kept hitting me with the bat. As my spirit formed over my body she was still hitting me with the bat. After a couple of minutes, she went still. Then a strange glow covered her and then moved away. The glow seemed to have something inside of it, like some kind of sci-fi monster or something. I tried to follow it, but something held me back.”
I nodded to him. It was normal for a spirit to be tied to the body for a little while after death. I couldn’t feel any spirit attached to his body in the morgue, so the ties must have loosened fairly quickly. What he described sounded like a fire elemental, which would fit with the thing that attacked Brianna Supunski.
“Alexia, have you noticed any burns on your body since the attack?” I asked.
“Like these?” She raised her hands and showed me several big blisters. “I thought they might have been from gripping the bat so strongly.”
“Looks like you were possessed by a fire elemental,” I said while Tiffany inspected her hands.
“But why would a fire elemental want to possess Alexia?” Barry asked putting his hands behind his back.
“Why would an air elemental want to possess an alligator and try to kill Brianna Supunski this morning?”
“A possessed alligator tried to...to kill Bree?” Alexia all but stammered.
“Yeah and Madeline Fort was torn apart by her dogs tonight. We haven’t been able to determine what did that.”
“Ah, Ethan,” Paul called from outside of the circle. “The cleanup crew finally worked out is was a pair of Packrider Fae. They took over the dogs and rode them to kill their mistress.”
Dusty and William looked worried. “If we have someone who is calling up Packrider Fae, we have to stop them fast,” Dusty said for the two of them. “If the person summoning them knows they can take over werewolves in wolf form, this could be disastrous. We'll have to warn Coyote tonight.”
Until that point, I’d only read about Packrider Fae. They’re a very rare form of fae that have the ability to take over any canine and force it to do their will. Due to the potential damage they could cause by taking over werewolves, they’re one of the outlaw races of fae on this plane. Summoning one is an offense punishable by death per Council law. If we had someone summoning Packrider Fae, then this just became a shoot-first, ask-questions-later assignment. I figured we'd get the orders from Carmine before morning. It also meant I could charge her more.
“Packrider Fae killed Mad?” Alexia seemed stunned.
“Yeah,” Barry cheered, “the obnoxious bitch was torn apart by her own bitchy dogs.” I think he would have jumped for joy if the circle had allowed him the space.
“This just upped the ante. It’s one thing for someone to be summoning unlicensed beings, but something totally different to be summoning outlawed races,” I said, trying to go over in my mind what all we knew. That would take a bit of a pow-wow with Tiffany and Dusty and we didn’t have time for that now with everyone else here. It also reinforced that somehow, someone in the Council was involved since the existence of Packrider Fae wasn’t something that was easily found out unless the summoner had connections to the Council or had found the right fae to question about it. And questioning fae was a very difficult thing to do since they have a tendency to avoid answering questions they didn’t want to answer unless you worded everything very specifically. I wanted to get this over with and get Daphnia and William out of the house. Paul I trusted. He’s a good honest wer and cop.
“Barry is there anyone you can think of who would want to harm you, Magee and Madeline?”
“As far as I am concerned, I can't think of anyone. I try to be nice to everyone and I haven't pissed too many people off over the years. But as far as M&M, you might want to check with any of the people who left the get-together group after they got tired of the perfect-love-perfect-trust bs. Those two were always forcing it down people's throats, always speaking out about the left-handed path and trying to turn people to the light. They never realized that without the dark there can be no light.” A common theme was developing among the people who had dealt with the dead women.
“Okay, let's look at it this way, can you think of anyone who would want to take over the get-together group?”
He thought for a moment. “Well with me, Magee and Mad out of the picture, that leaves Bree and Byron in charge, but you say an alligator was in their yard today and tried to eat Bree, so I'd say it’d be kinda cheesy for them to try and set that up. Xan’s always acting like he thinks of himself as a good candidate for leadership. He likes being in the spotlight. Katie keeps offering to high priestess for people although she’s completely certifiable. If you’re looking for someone to take over the group, I wouldn't waste time looking at past people. Look to new folks. Lenny and Katie are some of the newest people, but I don't think Katie has the forethought to try anything and Lenny’s too busy trying to keep Katie in line to plan out something this complex.”
“Did you ever hear any of them talk about summoning things or high magic?” I asked, hoping that another angle might provide some insight.
“Magee would have had a fit if someone suggested summoning things and she was pretty sure that high magic was most likely left handed. Mad wanted to call the fairies all the time, but that’s not the same thing as summoning is it? I brought up the idea one time of summoning a spirit to help us in some of the coven work. I think it was a money spell. And Magee said that if there wasn’t perfect love and perfect trust in the spirit we were going to call, she didn't want to call It, and if we had to take the precaution of calling it into a circle like this,” Barry gestured to the circle he was enclosed in, “then she didn't want to have anything to do with it.”
“At least they seemed to be self regulating in their stupidity,” Tiffany grumbled softly.
“So anything else you think might be interesting or that we may have missed so far?” I asked Barry, hoping to wind things up so I could get on to dinner and more pow-wowing with Dusty and Tiffany.
“At the moment that is all I can think of. But you know this dead thing’s not so bad. I know we don't stay dead long right now. That's why there are not more real haunted houses than there are. People get reincarnated really fast. But I ran into Magee earlier. I thought I’d go by her place and see if I could catch Reynaldo banging Mad. Magee was there and you know she’s as big a bitch dead as she was alive. She told me she hopes that they take a while getting around to calling her back to a life since she’s enjoying herself tormenting Reynaldo. Now I know the guy isn't the nicest guy around, but she’s enjoying this a little too much. But anyway, she said something about Reynaldo disturbing her altar and moving things around and now something was missing. She’s sure that there was a candle on the altar and her chalice has been moved. Reynaldo keeps the room locked so his daughter can't get in there, so Magee’s just sure that whatever killed her moved things around after she was dead.” Barry's form shimmered a bit, becoming less opaque than it had been. The strain of a full body apparition was beginning to take a toll on him. He’d start to fade away moment by moment.
“Well that is helpful.” I chose not to say anything about Dusty and I being the ones with the candle and having moved the chalice. I wondered where she’d been while we had been at the house. We’d have to call her up again to ask her and I wasn't sure I was in the mood for that. “Barry if you and Alexia want a moment to say goodbye, we need to release you before this takes too big of a toll on either of you.”
Alexia walked over to Barry. Careful not to cross the circle, Tiffany and I moved to the side of the circle closer to the chairs to give them a bit of privacy to say goodbye.
Once Barry was gone back to the other side, the circle came down. I quickly released the circles around the chairs. Daphnia was so enraged about being locked in beyond her ability to get out that she practically drug poor Alexia out of the room and out of the house with William trailing along behind them. Paul had to head bac
k to check on his wife and baby, leaving Tiffany, Dusty and I to head over to Coyote's Place to grab a steak and warn Coyote about the Packriders.
Coyote joined us for a moment in the main dining room after we informed him of the Packrider Fae in his private office. He’d been understandably worried and wondered how he was going to get the pack to stay in human form until the threat was resolved and hoped that it would be by full moon. After handling a minor issue in the kitchen, he had just sat down next to Tiffany when his eyes became unfocused. I knew that look from human telepaths that I worked with from time to time. He was communicating with someone, most likely one of his pack, since to my knowledge, Coyote didn’t have any telepathic skills worthy of mention other than his link with the wolves in his pack. The look lasted only for a second or two, then he shook his head and a look of horror crossed his face. Since he was the pack alpha, it’d be impolite to ask him what was wrong. We all put down our forks and knives and waited for him to speak.
It seemed a lot longer than it actually did before he finally said something. “Sam's in trouble.” His voice was strained with the horror he had felt from her.
18
Dusty reached out a hand for his uncle. “Where is she uncle Bob?”
“She took tonight off to go sit at the Stones on the Moors. She wanted to spend some time by herself tonight. I wasn't going anywhere and told her it was okay, Toby could keep track of things here.” The alpha was more shaken than I had ever seen him.
“Coyote, is she still there? Is she still alive?” I asked as I started to get out of my seat.
“She was a moment ago when she broke the link with me. She’s trying to protect me from her pain.” His voice was shaky.
“There’s a slim chance, but we have to try.” I pushed my chair in and turned toward the door.
“Tiffany, call Carmine and see if there is anyone close to the stones tonight.” The Stones on the Moors was a small park on the southern side of Arlington. There are a number of granite monuments there, inspired by actual standing stones from England. A large number of the local Wiccan and pagan groups liked to do their rituals there whenever they could. The land around the park was marshy with a small creek running through it. We were a good half hour away under normal driving conditions. I could only hope that this late there’d be no traffic.
“Tell her we'll be there in about fifteen minutes if traffic cooperates.”
“Coyote, who do you have here that can protect you? Who can we take with us? And can you call any others of the pack that might be in Arlington?” Tiffany asked as we headed toward the door.
“Toby and Blanche can protect me. Take Silver with you, she's close to Sam and if this happens to involve the Packriders, she won't have to worry. None of the pack, other than Sam, are near Arlington tonight. But I can call a couple of people from Fort Worth.” He seemed to regain a little of his normal self. I knew how close he and Sam were and how, if anything happened to her, he would be at a major loss, not just for his best bodyguard, but for a very good friend.
“Good. We're on our way.” I motioned Tiffany and Dusty to follow me as we made our way quickly, but not fast enough to alarm the other patrons.
We just cleared the front doors of the restaurant when I heard someone call out. From the side of the building, a tall, slim, dark-haired woman ran toward us. I recognized Silver Phantom Dancer, one of the waitresses and also the only werepuma in town. “Coyote said Sam’s in trouble and you guys needed help. What can I do?”
“We're not totally sure yet,” said Tiffany, taking the initiative while I unlocked the car doors. “But come on with us and we'll see when we get there.”
“Where’s there?” Silver asked as she slid into the back seat behind Dusty.
“Out on the Moors,” Tiffany replied as she slid in behind me on the driver' side.
Before Dusty closed his door, I had the engine running. I ran possible routes through my head as I drove up on the freeway, but unfortunately from where we were, there was no clear shot across town to where we needed to be. There was no other choice but taking the long way around. As I picked up speed, I wrapped a thin shield of energy around the car, thankful that we had the car and not the truck. The ladies in the back seat might be a bit cramped, but the Mustang was nice and fast and shields like I was weaving would work better to keep anyone from seeing us and prevent cops from stopping us and delaying our ride to the rescue.
Other than Tiffany on the phone from time to time, no one spoke as we raced across the Metroplex. I was thankful for the quiet. I needed all my concentration to weave in and out of the light traffic, which was common in the area even in the wee hours of the morning, while maintaining the magical shield around the car. Carmine's closest person was about ten minutes away and would meet us there. Coyote's Fort Worth people were twenty minutes away and on their way there as well.
“Holy Shit!” Dusty exclaimed as we pulled off the highway at the exit that would take us to the park.
The area was lit by magical fire. It looked like someone had set fire to the entire park area. Bright flames of red, blue and gold danced among the rock monuments ahead of us. It was one of the most awesome displays of large-scale magic I’d ever seen. I could only hope that the mundanes couldn’t see it. If they could, the cleanup crew would be busy containing the problem for days.
Sam's pickup truck was parked in the small dirt parking lot for the park, next to a battered Volkswagen Beetle. I recognized the Beetle. It belonged to Henry Klienfelter, one of the mages that worked for Carmine. I didn’t see Henry in the car, so I assumed that he was out in the park trying to figure out the source of the lights.
Gravel flew as I slid the Mustang into the spot next to the Beetle. The car was barely stopped before the doors opened and we piled out.
“Dusty, you and Silver find Sam and make sure she’s okay. Tiffany and I’ll try and figure out the cause of the lights and shut it down.” I headed toward the hill that was the entrance to the park, after grabbing the travel bag from the trunk.
I felt the push of the magic as we got closer. Someone had set off something big and we needed to resolve it now before it got any bigger. As we topped the hill, I saw that it might have been a lot more than I’d bargained for. In the small valley the creek had formed over the millennia, where the stones now stood, a giant shimmering doorway gaped open. In front of the doorway, a short man paced.
“Henry,” Tiffany called out as we started down the hill.
The man turned. His rumpled appearance, along with the fuzzy-puppy slippers he wore, indicated he’d been asleep when he’d gotten the call to come out and help us. His thin grey hair was more scattered than normal and his eyes looked tired.
“Thank the Gods you're here,” he said, a mix of relief and worry showing on his face. “It looks like someone has opened a major gateway between here and one of the lower dimensions. I’m trying to figure out how to disrupt the spell and shut down the gate.”
“Has anything come through?” I started digging in the travel bag for the stuff we needed to close the gate.
“Well I just got here, but I’m betting that something did. There was a lot of howling just to the north a few minutes ago. Sounded a bit like a wolf. I'm not sure if that was whatever came through or if it was something else.”
“A werewolf in trouble in the park is why we came out, so I suppose it’s probably her.” I said as I pulled out a large container of salt. Then, a howl split the air confirming that at least one werewolf was still alive in the park. I knew Dusty's howl and that wasn’t it. My hopes rose that we’d arrived in time to save Sam. The howl would give Dusty and Silver something to home in on, and I could only hope that they could handle any trouble they encountered. It made focusing on the problem of the gate easier.
I tossed the container of salt to Tiffany. “If we can break the connection, the gate should close.” I turned and handed another container of salt to Henry. “Was there anyone else here when you got here?”
/>
The short man shook his grey head. “No, but then I didn’t look around much. With this thing lighting up the sky, I came straight here. All I saw was the pickup truck in the parking lot.”
I scanned the ground near the gateway. There should be some kind of circle or sigil or something that held the gate open. Tiffany and Henry were busy using the salt to form a circle around the gate. As they approached the completion of the circle, I felt a change in the gate’s energy. The energies rose to a higher frequency and become more erratic. As I hoped, casting this very basic salt circle around the circle on which the gate was formed would help cut the gate’s connection to this plane.
As Tiffany’s and Henry’s salt lines met on the far side, the gate sputtered. Looking up from my ground search, I saw them through the gate’s bright, hazy energy and the dancing blue and purple light cast strange light paintings across their features. The gate struggled for life, just like any other living thing, trying to maintain its energy flow. The light changed from blues and purples to orange and yellows. Tiffany chanted the lines to complete the circle’s closure. It was a crude, simple circle. I wouldn’t have wanted to stake my life on it if there were an angry OD on the other side, but it was enough for what we needed. The gate’s energy wavered like a candle in a strong wind, then the light flared and fell until it finally sputtered out. The aural spectacle around the park had ended. Only the lights on the sidewalks and monuments glowed to provide safe passage for any late-night walkers.
I pulled a couple of flashlights out of the travel bag and tossed one to Tiffany. As it passed through the spot where the gate had been moments before, it shimmered and slowed slightly before continuing on to Tiffany's waiting hand. “That’s still a bit hot,” she said as she flipped the light on.
With the gate pretty much history, it was easier to see the ground. We were careful not to walk through the spot where the gate had been, since there was always a possibility of a flare up and none of us wanted to get caught up in that. At the center of the area where the gate had been, a small metallic disk lay. Using a stick I spotted laying on the ground, I gently moved it clear of the spatial disturbance above it.
Both sides of the disk were etched with a series of complex sigils and runes. On one side a magic square shone in the faint light of the flashlights. It’d take a while to decipher the numbers, symbols and sigils and the order they occurred in the square, but I had every confidence that Tiffany would have it worked out in a matter of days, if not hours. On the other side, I could make out a few of the runes, the most important one was the one that was different.
“That's odd.” Tiffany stared over my shoulder, following my train of thought. “That one looks like it was put there after the others.” She reached out for the disk and I dropped it into her hand. With one delicate, well-manicured fingernail, she circled the odd rune. “I bet this is the rune that activated the gate. The person that used the disk created it beforehand, then this rune had to be carved, probably with their athame, or some other knife to complete the spell. This took some planning.” I could tell by the tone in her voice she’d be up all night trying to decipher the runes. “These things are not easy to make either. This isn’t something just any old mage can do. Hopefully they signed it and the signature will match something on the gator from this morning.”
“The gator from this morning?” said Henry, breaking his silence. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Long story, there should be a report on it in the Council records by now,” I said as I turned my light back toward the ground to see if there was anything else that might be of interest.
A howl and a scream ripped the quiet night open.
“Henry, stay here and keep checking to see if there’s anything else to be found. Sounds like whatever came through the gate didn’t leave when the gate came down.” Tiffany handed her flashlight to him, dropped the copper disk into her pocket and followed me.
We dashed up past the first couple of monuments. The howling continued. Again it didn’t sound like Dusty. When it echoed through the park again, the scream sounded like a big cat. It was a good assumption that Silver had changed to her puma form. We hurried down the slope toward the sounds, which were now compounded with splashing water. They were fighting something in the creek.
One of the monuments straddled the creek and the spotlights at the monument’s base illuminated each of the base stones toward the towering stone piece that stretched between them. Curling up the side of the stone, a scaled body tired to climb to the top. On the creek’s far bank, I saw a large, dark furry form that I recognized as Sam’s massive wolf shape, but I couldn’t tell if she was moving. She’s as large as many of the male wolves and more powerful than most. She’s in the running for the next pack alpha female after Coyote died and a new alpha male was in place. Being another strong silent type, I’m not sure she had the personality to pull off the role of alpha female, but she certainly had the power for it.
A tan form leapt from the edge of the creek onto the top of the monument. I’d never seen a werepuma in puma form. They’re one of the rarest wer species. From all the books, it was one that only rarely transmitted to humans via attack. Almost all werepumas are genetic wers and they had a notoriously slow birth rate. Most of their breeding-age females were treated as queens. I’ve never stopped to question why a female werepuma was waiting tables at Coyote's place and running with the jaguar pride. Paul had said something about some sort of interwer exchange program where her pride watched over a jaguar and the jaguars watched over her.
Silver's puma form was larger than most mountain lions I’ve seen in zoos and such. It was closer in overall size to an African lion, but still maintained the look of a puma with the darker markings on the ears, feet and tail. The overall fur color was almost a grey tone. I wondered if they tended to vary as much as werewolves. The jump appeared easy for her as she slid to a stop atop the monument and glared down at the naga that struggled up the pillar toward her.
“Fuck, a naga,” Tiffany swore as she sorted out what we were seeing.
Nagas were nasty creatures. Pulled from the elemental plane of fire, some of them had a greater-than-human intelligence and could be particularly powerful spell casters. Most that fell into the category had proper visas that allowed them to come and go on this plane. I would have bet this particular one didn’t have all the proper paperwork to be here.
I reached into the bag as I watched Dusty in his sleek red-furred wolf form leap and catch the snake being’s tail in his mouth. His sudden weight dragged the snake’s grip off the monument and it fell forward. The pair hit the ground in a tumble of fur, fangs and scales as the naga sought to escape.
Silver came crashing down as Dusty let go of the naga and danced out of the way of its grasping arms. Silver missed hitting the thing in the head, but managed to strike it in the lower back. Up close and personal, the thing’s screams were most unsettling.
A bright light flashed by my head. Thankfully Tiffany's aim was sharp as she sent a volley of leven bolts at the thing.
The naga struggled to get away from the wers that fought it and the mage that shot magic at it, then it suddenly rushed toward the creek. Although nagas come from the elemental plane of fire, here in this plane, they love the water and if it reached the creek, we’d lose it for sure. With the gate closed, there would be a loose naga running around south Arlington, Texas. Carmine would have my hide.
“Don't let it in the water.” I screamed as I ran the short distance to it, athame in hand. Now an athame may not seem like much, but in this situation, it’d be as good as it was going to get. I’d much rather have picked the thing off from a distance with the rifle, but the chance of hitting either Silver or Dusty was too high. Not to mention that I wasn’t sure which subspecies this particular naga fell into. A couple of the subspecies could deflect bullets and I didn’t want bullets bouncing all over the park.
I pushed power down into the sacred knife until it glowed with ene
rgy waiting to be released, then plunged the knife into the naga. As the dagger slid easily through one of the holes the wers had made in the thick scaly hide, I released the energy and fell back. Dusty had seen me do this once before, so he bounced back a couple of steps after yanking on Silver's leg to get her to follow him. She looked confused but followed as I dashed away from the naga.
I hoped this trick would work. It’d worked on everything else I’d ever tried it on, but the problem with magical creatures is that no two ever react the same way. Luck was on my side. As the naga made a last-ditch effort to make it to the water, it started to glow and then exploded in a spray of light and snake guts.
I retrieved my athame as Dusty shifted back to human form.
“Thanks for the save,” he said, wrapping a sweaty arm around my waist and pulling me close. “That thing was nasty.” His kiss tasted awful and I pushed him back a bit.
“Love, let's get your teeth brushed and try that again,” I said. “You had that nasty naga in your mouth and you never know where those have been.”
“While you were fighting it, did it say anything or try to use magic?” Tiffany asked as she toed over a piece of naga in the grass.
“No and it seemed uncertain when we showed up. It had Sam cornered and was moving in for the kill,” Dusty explained while Silver leapt across the creek and ran to Sam's side. “Then it paused, shimmered a bit and tried to get away.”
“She's still alive!” Silver called out from the other side of the creek. With a lot of help from my telekinesis, we carried Sam's unconscious body across the creek, then headed for her truck in the parking lot. She had numerous cuts, and from the smell, I was willing to bet that some of the damage was poison that we need to deal with asap. I knew Coyote would have a medic at the restaurant before we could get back to his place. I hoped she lasted that long. Tiffany prepared something magically that would help slow the woman's metabolism. Tiffany decided to ride back to Coyote's place with Silver and Sam. Dusty and I would meet them there. We headed back to let Henry know what was going on and to see if he’d found anything else in the circle.
When we got there, we found Henry laying face down on the edge of the circle. There was large trail like a snake slithering across the salt line around him. My heart sank. There’d been a second naga. And now it was loose.