Swift (Strangetown Magic Book 1) (12 page)

"Maybe in another lifetime. Look, I have to ask you a few questions. Sorry to be about business."

"I understand, and in answer to your as yet unasked questions then yes, it was, and yes, it will, and no, it won't."

"Well, that's got that cleared up then." It was a bit of a letdown, I at least wanted to ask them first.

"Haha, come, my child, we can discuss it in more depth. I was just playing games with you. Ask away, I will tell you what I can."

"Was the Rift caused on purpose?" He just stared at me, as he'd already said yes. "Okay. Will it happen again?"

"As I said. Yes, it will."

"Will it take the Strange that are already here back with it if it opens again?"

"No, it will not have that effect. It may take a few away, a random act because of the magic, but it was not opened to bring Strange here merely to have them disappear again. What would be the point?"

"But what is the point? Why did it open and what is to gain from the chaos?"

"My, my, you are full of questions, aren't you? The world is changing, Swift, has already changed so much since Strange became a part of the world and known about, although I'm still not sure that was a good idea, but it wasn't my decision to make."

"Liked being all mysterious and powerful, did you?"

"I am still both of those things. No, what I liked, before we were stuck with this stupid moniker as Strange, was the fact nobody knew magic existed apart from us. It made the world a more interesting place. But I understand the reasoning. After the Second World War, well, nothing we could reveal would be worse than what the world had already witnessed and understood humans to be capable of, so the timing was perfect. But prejudice never went away and I do not appreciate being classified."

"It stopped us being hunted and reviled, though, and most people love a bit of magic."

"This is all true, I do not dispute that, but it has led to the Rift and that is most definitely not a good thing. Our future hangs in the balance now."

Gravel is never wrong. If he thought this was as serious as he said then you could bet it was. "Because of the elves?"

"Of course because of the elves, the dark elves, anyway, which most of them are. Of all the Strange in all the worlds, they are the only ones I have ever been concerned about. They're too like us, and the only race here in any kind of significant numbers. The rest, all the demons, sprites, fae, the whole kit and caboodle of them, they've already spread across the globe and they are few and far between, no real threat. Most are nice enough in their own way, but the elves, they are here in much larger numbers than anyone really imagines, and they are most definitely not our friends."

I was wishing I hadn't come. This was depressing as hell. "So what do we do? How do we send them back?"

"I don't believe we can. Somehow the Rift was opened, and my guess is that's down to the elves from their side forcing their way through with a rather unexpected side-effect, but how we get rid of them I have no idea. There will be more, and it will be like nothing we have ever seen before. Unless..."

"Unless what? Unless we open the Rift ourselves somehow, settle things down? Create an equilibrium, send them back where they came from? How exactly do we do that?"

"We can't. I'm not even sure it was the elves that made it in the first place, not on purpose anyway."

"Great. Just great."

Gravel adjusted his cheap leatherette belt, straightened his name tag, and stared at me hard with those eyes that see right through your defenses and get to the truth behind the bravado and the hard outer shell. "Just be ready."

"For what?"

"For anything. One thing I do know, this won't get any better any time soon."

Sometimes visiting old friends is kind of depressing.

Across the Wasteland

Gravel had a lot of magic, but even he was weaker than before the Rift, we all were. You can feel the pull on your abilities almost as a constant background hum, or a buzz—it's kind of impossible to explain. But the Pool is finite for our world, and with more Strange there is less to go around.

This is part of the reason many human Strange are absolutely livid about our new friends coming to visit. They are weaker; our magic is taken. They share in it, a communal hive mind of sorts, although without the sense of purpose or community. Rather, everyone tugs in different directions and makes the Pool as a whole weaker.

After telling me what he thought was possible if done right, and the likely outcome, plus the consequences and the nightmarish scenario that would ensue if it went wrong, I knew I had a lot to think about.

I wasn't cut out for this epic stuff. I was your everyday witch, with issues, that wanted to do her job, keep her kind safe, and have a beer at the end of the day. What I was not was some kind of saver of humanity and the denizens of the netherworlds. That action happens to old wizards and they always have big staffs with knobbly bits and wear cloaks and live in the woods, not to a mid-level peacekeeper that can't even keep her own front wall from falling down.

Promising to be in touch soon, once I uncovered more about what Pumi had told me, I filled in Gravel on that too and he surprised me by gushing about what a great guy Pumi was and that they went way back. Yet another brownie point for the man labeled a child killer. I was beginning to understand how important a player Pumi was in our world, behind the scenes, helping without the desire to be credited for good deeds.

I left knowing I would need his help soon enough, more sure than ever that something had to be done as I felt another tug at the Pool, more Strange using magic for one reason or another across the city and the world.

This Pool, it pulses, stronger then weaker, depending on how many are dipping their magical finger into the pot.

It's why you try to use your magic in the week and preferably at lunch time—less of a surge and more to draw on with less hassle. As well as being localized there is a worldwide Pool that is the sum of all its parts, although I guess it's all one and the same when you get right down to it.

Now we all had less of it, and the further the Strange spread from Strangetown the less impressed others of our kind were. They found it harder, just like us, and after the initial wave of migration it had become almost impossible for those tied to our realm to travel away from here. Nobody wanted them, the mystique and curiosity replaced with fear and basically a "We don't want any bloody foreigners coming over here stealing our magic," kind of thing.

Could Fester really be caught up in this mess? From what Pumi had told me then the girl had seen him repeatedly going to ground zero, and there was more besides. He was linked but he didn't have the power to bring such a thing, nobody did, and he certainly couldn't make it happen again, whatever the motivation for such an act.

So what was it? It was time to find out.

Through the quietening streets, across empty roads, past noisy pubs and closing stores, I made my way to ground zero. I was going to be late and so I hurried, walk turning into an easy jog I could maintain for a while on my tired legs. Man, I'd done a lot of running that day.

The way became treacherous as the emptiness in the city morphed to rubble strewn mess, then to the buildings that circled the epicenter of the trouble, most less than whole, waiting to be demolished when somebody could be bothered.

Then I was at the building Pumi had agreed we meet at, so I crept around the side, entered, and made my way up.

Spying

"You're late," hissed Pumi, hiding behind the open door to a gutted apartment, ready to bash my head in with a blast of magic that shone orange and fierce around his fist. A revelation, showing our trust was far from total.

"Sorry, got caught up in a game of hopscotch."

He frowned at me, letting the magic back into the Pool, waiting for me to say more. "Sorry, again," was about all I had to give.

"Good job I lied about what time he usually comes. I had the feeling you were a little flaky."

"Why, you cheeky git." I hit him playfully, something that was becoming a habit, but it felt all right, familiar.

"What, I was right, wasn't I? You gotta be punctual, it's only polite."

"Won't happen again, boss."

"Haha, that's all right then. Now, come on, over to the window. Let's see what we can see."

Settling down, the ground brushed clear of glass, Pumi handed me a pair of binoculars and pointed to where I should look. I trained them on the spot and then swept back and forth, growing increasingly frustrated at the sight of bare ground, occasional Strange, and little else.

Then he nudged me, so I lowered the binoculars and looked where he pointed down below and to the left. It was little but a blur from this distance so I raised the binoculars once again and focused them.

No doubt about it, it was Levick.

We watched from the safety of the room as far down below, Levick, who to me will forever be Fester, made his way across the barren land. Back when it had happened, or once everyone got over the shock anyway, bulldozers came and cleared away the destruction, heaping up the remains of people's hopes and dreams, the futures they thought were secure as they sat in their homes, played in their gardens with their kids, in a massive circle around the dead zone.

Levick looked around, checking for observers, but there was nobody that cared. Just wandering souls, creatures of all description standing, walking, flying, even screaming—he may as well have been invisible as most were gripped by madness of one sort or another. What was he looking for? What was he doing here?

He lifted his head, as if searching for something in the sky, a sign maybe, then I'm sure I saw him smile. He doesn't smile, his features are set, stoic and as animated as his monotone speech.

"Does he come here often?" I asked Pumi.

"Quite a bit. He never stays, just looks around then leaves. He's waiting for something."

"Like what? Another Rift?"

"That's my guess, but who really knows? It's him though, right? This is the man the girl described. She was scared, Swift, real scared, and you know the worst thing? I never even got her name. She wouldn't say, thought it meant I could use magic against her if I got cross."

"We'll find out, you can be sure of that."

"How?"

"I think we should follow him. How come you haven't? A tough guy like you isn't worried about a little guy like him, right?"

"I didn't want to risk it. I figured something would happen here and... What, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because if we are to be friends then we need to be honest with each other. If you think he killed your friend and pinned her murder on you why haven't you followed him?"

"Because I didn't want to get caught. You know what people think of me, you think I can just go wandering around in the open and nobody will notice? I'll be hunted like the animal they think I am."

He had a point. "Fair enough, but you didn't get seen earlier, did you?"

"No, guess not. But I never thought about that before."

"Blimey, trying to live up to the all brawn, no brain image are you? You men, I despair sometimes, I really do. Come on, just put your damn hood up again and keep your head down. Anyway, nobody will take any notice with it getting dark, it's just if we get close to people that we need to worry about a disguise."

"Fine, but if I'm seen it's on your head. I'm too beat to use magic or fight now, I just want to sleep."

"One of those, eh? A sleeper."

"Yeah, it takes it out of me and I just want to crash and sleep for days."

"I eat."

"I'm like that, too. Okay, come on before I need to be carried." Pumi pulled up the hood of the sweater and I gave a little of my magic again to hide his features, not that I had much ability left either now after the day I'd had. It was enough, and I looked in satisfaction at the face that was no face, a blur, and nothing you would look twice at.

As quietly as possible, we moved down the stairs of the building and waited beside the entrance, lost in the shadows of the interior. It was mere minutes before we saw the retreating figure of Levick, clearly having not got whatever it was he wanted.

Before he was lost to the city we stepped out and followed.

Stalking Fester

Strangetown was closing in on itself as we followed Levick through the streets. He moved fast, constantly searching the shadows, sometimes stopping suddenly and looking up as if he heard a noise. Then he'd be off again, brisk like he was late for work and would be reprimanded by his boss.

He was at odds with the streets; he didn't belong. The city itself seemed to mistrust him, and he kept to the dark, going out of his way to cross when people or Strange were close, sticking to places where the few working streetlights shone no light.

He wasn't going home, that was for sure, and the longer we followed him the more certain I was of where he was heading. Both Pumi and I were flagging, our conversation dried up. It was getting hard to stay alert and hidden yet keep an eye on him. Magic became harder to use, my hunger and lethargy taking over. Pumi said nothing but I knew he felt it too, and soon we would have to stop.

Levick was slowing as well, getting nervous and jittery, jumping at the slightest sound. Was it fear? Or was it just being cautious as he neared his destination?

As the air cooled and darkness settled like a silent blanket over Strangetown, I relaxed my magic and felt a little better. We kept going, but Pumi's breathing was becoming labored and I'm sure he actually fell asleep a few times even as we walked.

Finally, Levick seemed to have arrived, and I knew the place only too well. This was where the majority of elves had holed up, a place no human could enter, certainly not leave alive. The entire structure shone pale silver like a whisper of moonlight, beautiful and cold, just like most of their kind.

We stopped, hiding behind a truck, observing him through dusty glass. Levick shimmered, his whole body shaking like a dog just out of a freezing stream, and the sparks flew off him angrily like water.