VoodooMoon (5 page)

Opening my senses, I searched for power coming from Ian, but there wasn’t any. He wasn’t trancing Millie. He was just being kind. And it was working.

Millie began to speak in a soft, distracted tone as if she was concentrating very hard.

“I had just closed up the shop. I was in a rush, I needed to get to the public Mage-Level Test. I had a buck to ride the trolley, but the streets were crowded. I was going to miss the trolley so I cut down the alley. That one.” She opened her eyes and pushed back the curtain to point to an opening between buildings that led to the next street.

“Why don’t we walk down there, it may help your memory. Do you feel comfortable with that?” I asked.

Millie nodded silently.

“Ok, give me a second.” I chanted to remove the soundproofing ward then chanted another spell. “Okay, no one but the three of us will be able to hear what any of us say. But we have to work fast, this spell only works for fifteen minutes.”

I smiled when Ian raised an impressed eyebrow at me. What, did he think I was an amateur? I was an experienced Blade agent. Secrecy during investigations was imperative. Though it was unlikely anyone had any interest in the current investigation, you could never be too careful. In a world filled with paranorms with super hearing and unseen spirits, a No-Speak spell in public open spaces was SOP. The only problem was they were dangerous. It was important to be specific with the time on a No-Speak, and to only use them in very short intervals. The last thing anyone wanted was to be caught in a dangerous situation and not be able to scream out for help.

When they reached the alley opening Millie stopped and looked at Ian. “It was getting dark, and I didn’t see anyone in the alley. But I didn’t really look. I was in a hurry.”

She began to slowly walk down the path between the two brick buildings, Ian and I trailing behind her. She stopped about half way down the alley. “I think I was about here when I noticed the man. He was standing against the wall near the other end. He started walking towards me.”

Ian went to stand next to her. “Concentrate. How did he walk, did he speak to you? Was there anyone else in or near the alley?”

Millie looked confused by the questions, but complied. “He walked normal. No, wait, I remember now. I thought he walked kind of strange, kind of stiff. He was walking towards me, but I just kept going, then he reached out and grabbed my arm.”

She ran up about fifteen feet and stopped. “I was right around here. I remember because I pushed him away and pounded on this door.” She indicated a shabby wooden door that had seen better days. It was obviously a back entrance to one of the shops in the building.

“No one came, and the man grabbed me again. I screamed.” She paused, her eyes closed in concentration. “He told me to shut up. He said he was going to make all of my troubles go away. But…but it was weird. His voice was weird. Like it didn’t fit his body. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make sense. I was really scared.” She looked at me as if in apology.

“I know. It’s ok. What happened next?”

“Well, I’m not very good at magic at real magic, but I keep a small charged crystal in my pocket. It was a throw away, and I can charge it myself.” She said quickly, as if they would think she stole it. “Anyway, Mama taught me an easy flash spell. So I put my hand in my pocket and said the spell. The flash of light startled the man and I was able to pull away. I ran towards the end of the alley.”

Not everyone was born with the power to perform magic, and those who did have power sometimes only had specific powers and may not have the ability to do certain spells. Being a norm, a person with no magic or not enough magic to register on the Mage-Level exams, in a paranorm dominated world was both inconvenient and dangerous. So much of the technology today depended on magic. Life could be very hard without the power to perform easy spells. And in a world where everyone was stronger and faster than you, having a little bit of magic to use could mean the difference between life and death. Norms and paranorms with little or no magic often carried crystals charged with general magical energy. They could perform small spells and tasks by touching the crystal and saying the spell or curse.

Millie looked defiantly at Ian. “There wasn’t anyone else there. I know because I was screaming for help and looking around. There wasn’t anyone. I made it to the end, but I tripped here.” She walked to the end and used one foot clad in a ragged boot to point to a hole in the ground just beyond the edge of the alley. She had made it out onto the public sidewalk.

“I fell down and the man was coming at me. When he reached down to grab me I kicked up as hard as I could. I don’t know where I hit him, but I guess his head, because he fell down. And he was dead.”

She began to tremble again, but her voice was steady. I had to give it to the girl, she had spunk. It was apparent she thought she was facing a murder charge, despite our assurances, yet she stood strong and told her story without wavering.

“How did you know he was dead?” I asked as I looked around the area. We were now on the street I lived on. The block was made up mostly of bars and restaurants. Even at dusk the music drifting out would have drowned out the girls screams. That explained why no one came to help her.

“Because of the way he looked.” She said matter-of-factly. “I mean, no one could look like that and be alive. I’ve never seen a dead body before. I didn’t know they would shrivel up like that so fast. It was so weird.”

“What do you mean shrivel so fast? How did he look before he fell.” Ian’s voice startled them both. He’d been silent for so long and had been lingering behind them. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Well, normal I guess. He was a normal live person. But then when he fell, after I kicked him, it was weird. Like one minute his face was all normal then it went all white and spotty and sucked in. Like all the air and stuff had been sucked out of him. Looked a little like the dried apple chips Mama makes.” She paused uncertainly. “Isn’t that what happens when someone dies?”

“Not usually.” Ian said distractedly. “You are sure there wasn’t anyone around?”

Millie’s tone was firm and sure. “I’m positive. I didn’t see anyone at all until after I kicked him. This street wasn’t as busy there were a few people walking, but they were on the opposite side of the street.”

Ian checked his pocket watch. “Well, I think our fifteen minutes is just about up. Thank you for your time Millie. You’ve helped a lot.”

“Really, that’s it? I’m not in trouble and I can go?” Her face brightened.

“You aren’t in trouble. But, before you go, I need to know a couple of more things” I said.

“Okay.” She said, cautiously.

“Is it true you are a charger?”

“Well, I haven’t had an official Mage-Level test. But, those are my powers. I’ve been working part time with a charger to learn. She says I’m good.” Her face fell as if remembering her situation. “But it doesn’t matter. There isn’t another public test for six months.”

I took a small tablet of hemp-paper and a short charcoal pencil out of a small pocket in my vest. I wrote on the paper then offered it to Millie.

“Take this to Maurice at the Academy Testing Center. He arranges the Mage-Level tests for the Blades. He will be able to get you into the next test, which should be in the next couple of days.”

Millie stared at the paper, but didn’t take it.

“This isn’t charity,” I said. “You were the victim of a crime and you have helped us today. This is the least I can do for you.” I shook the paper a bit and Millie took it.

I scribbled a message on another page, tore it out and handed it to Millie. “After you get your results take them and that note to Leesa Parks. Her office is on the first floor of the Blades building. The Blades employ their own chargers and Leesa is the head of the department. This isn’t charity either. If your results are good enough, she should be able to find a position for you. You’ll have to work hard.”

Millie’s face broke into a wide grin. “I will, I swear. Thank you, Miss Moon.”

I winced. I have no objections to my last name, as a matter of fact it was exactly what I wanted it to be. But Miss Moon sounded like a school marm. I disliked it when anyone used it. “Call me Fiona. Do you need a ride home?”

“No. I don’t mind walking as long as it’s day time. Thank you Fiona!” She started back down the alley and stopped.

“Mr. Barroes. Are you really going to cancel your account with Mr. Fegley? And tell the Guard about him?” she asked quietly.

Ian’s face was impassive. “I am. Does that bother you?”

Millie chewed her lip. “No. He was mean and he didn’t pay me much. But, I didn’t have much choice, my family needed the money. He only fired me because his nephew can legally become his apprentice now. He didn’t care one bit that losing my job would hurt us. And he always called me such bad names.”

Then, to my surprise, Millie ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

Ian stared at me over the girls head looking dumbstruck. He obviously didn’t have much experience with emotional teenage girls. I laughed and made a hugging motion with my arms. I nearly laughed out loud when Ian mimicked the motions, stiffly patting Millie on the back.

After a long moment Millie backed away, her face flushed. “Thank you both. I didn’t know how I was gonna tell Mama and Papa I was fired. But knowing I can take my test and knowing Mr. Fegley will get what’s coming to him will make it easier.”

Then she turned and ran down the street.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I let the pent up laughter fly. Ian still looked a little bit in shock.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked indignantly.

“You! Big bad Master Necromancer scared of a grateful little girl!” I hooted.

“I was not afraid. She just caught me off guard. Now, can we please get on with this? I have a class in less than an hour.”

I forced myself to stop laughing and compose myself. “Okay. What do you think this was?”

“I’m still not sure.” If he did have an idea, his face gave nothing away.

“Well, I have an idea. It sounds like a necromancer messing around.”

His face remained impassive, but his voice held a sharp edge when he said, “This was not a necromancer.”

I had my doubts, but I wasn’t up to arguing with him. I was exhausted and still encrusted with dried mud. I wanted to get home. Besides, I’d only been dispatched to witness the questioning and give a report to Sam. This was not officially my case. “Fine. Good day to you, Ian.”

“Don’t you want a ride back to the Blade building?” Ian asked. They were still standing in the alley way opposite from where they came in.

“No need. I’ll scry Sam with my report.” I waved my hand at the street behind me. “I’m not far from home.”

“Ahh, yes. You live above a bar. I’d almost forgotten.” Ian said.

Almost forgotten? How did he know in the first place? No matter. “Well, Pinky likes to call it a pub, but yes. I do. I’ve been up for about 23 hours now, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to head there now.”

“Of course.” His voice was stiff and formal again. “Good day, Fiona.”

“Good day,” I said again. I turned and headed down the street, completely aware he watched me until I disappeared into my building.

Pinky often told me that in two centuries, with all that had changed in the world, Broadway was much the same as it had been before the Cataclysm. Back then it had been a row of mostly bars and restaurants with live entertainment with a few shops mingled in. Now there were a few restaurants and shops and mostly bars that catered to paranorms, most specifically Vampires. Most of the buildings that had more than one floor also housed apartments, or in the case of most of the bars, had become inns to accommodate travelers. To me, Broadway was home.

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t live over Pinky’s Pub, though there was one. There had been a small yellow house with a white fence covered with flowers and a vegetable garden. Or so my mother had told me. She had met my father, a first generation mage, at the Academy of Magic and Science. My father came from a wealthy norm family from New Nashville. My mother had grown up the daughter of mages in the magic district of Nash City. The District, with its dirty old buildings converted into apartments it was considered only barely a step above the Slums.

They were teamed up for a martial arts class, and according to my mother it was love at first punch. She never said who punched who, but I always figured she’d done the punching. They were inseparable. My mother had gotten into the Academy because both of her parents were City Guards. It was her dream to be a Guard, and maybe a Blade. My father’s family paid for his place at the Academy, but he applied for Guard training shortly after meeting my mother.

They married shortly after graduating the Academy. To my father’s family’s dismay they applied for the City Guard together and were accepted. To please my paternal grandparents, they bought the little yellow house in New Nashville to be near them. My mother quit the Guard when she got pregnant with me.

My mother’s eyes always got sad and her tone wistful whenever she told me about that time. For a while we were a family in the little yellow house. Then, just before my second birthday, my father didn’t come home for dinner. He and his partner had been tracking a smuggling ring and walked into a trap. They had been dead before they even knew the warehouse had been rigged with explosives. It always seemed a little strange to me that in a world with magic, my father had been killed by the most mundane of methods.

His family blamed my mother for his death. They said he never would have joined the Guard if it hadn’t been for her. I think she agreed with them. She couldn’t stand the little yellow house without my father, so she bundled me up and went to the one place she knew she would always be welcome.

Throughout generations of my mother’s family, Eric “Pinky” Pinkerton had been a constant. I sometimes wondered how sad it was for him to see the people he loves die every few decades and yet he stays eternally young. Most vampires move around a lot or avoid bonding with non-vampires for that very reason. Yet Pinky had been a member of my family as much as if he’d been born into it.

Pinky had taken us in, letting my mother rent the top floor of the pub building and helping out with me when she joined the Blades.

I never saw my Grandparents again until my mother died and they tried to make me come live with them. I didn’t cooperate. After a while they got tired of chasing me down at Pinky’s and dragging me back to the big house in New Nashville. Whatever the reason, they gave up trying to control me after three weeks and let me go back to Pinky who gladly took me in. Of course they never, not even once, contributed financially to my raising after that.

I pulled myself out of the thoughts of the past and paid attention to the street as I strolled down the block towards home and bed. I let the sounds and smells, not all of them pleasant, sink into my skin. The enticing aroma of fresh baked sweet bread wafted out of the bakery across from Pinky’s pub and my growling stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten a bite since early the evening before. I stopped in and bought three sweet rolls. I ate one of the sticky buns as I crossed the street. There were a few people milling about in and out of shops and the few inns, but for the most part it was pretty quiet.

Pinky’s Pub was located in one of only three four story buildings on the block. The pub catered mainly to vampires and unlike many of the bars on Broadway, the pub closed an hour before dawn and didn’t open until two hours after dusk. There had been a time when Pinky had kept the pub open 24 hours a day for any vampires who chose to risk the sunlight exposure to get to a dark, friendly place for a drink. But, when my sisters and I came along he’d changed the hours so he had time to spend with us. Though we were all grown up now, Pinky found he had a love of quite alone time, so he kept the night time only hours.

Since it was almost mid-day the front doors were locked and barred from the inside. Knocking wouldn’t get me in because of the sound-proof spells that kept the upper floors quite enough to sleep on. Besides, the only people home would be Pinky and Anya, and they both worked at the pub all night. So, instead I walked to the end of the block and up the alley to the back entrance. The security ward on the back door was keyed to my energy signature so I didn’t have to use a key to get in. Anyone outside of the family who tried to enter would get a nasty shock and thrown back about fifteen feet, which would slam them into the building behind us. If they were stupid enough to try it a second time, it would kill them.

Like most of the buildings up and down Broadway, the pub was narrow in width but over half a block in length. The first half of the building was four stories high and made of brick, but the back half was only two stories and constructed concrete block and wood. Though not even Pinky had been here back when it had been built, it was obvious the back half had been built on several decades after the main building.

The building was quiet as I crept through the back rooms of the pub to the back staircase. I paused on the second floor landing to look out the window. River wasn’t in her massive rooftop garden, or at least I couldn’t see her. She could be in the jungle-like grove of potted fruit trees or inside the greenhouse, but at this time of day she was most likely at the public market selling her produce. That meant, with Pinky asleep in his third floor apartment and with Anya asleep in her bedroom I’d have the wash room to myself.

Like most older buildings in Nash City, we had the bare minimum of plumbing. It had only been about 50 years or so since water delivery had been restored to most of the city via hand pumps. Flushing toilets were a luxury the older generation hadn’t had. Some buildings, mostly those in the slums, still didn’t have them. Hot running water was still elusive, though I knew from my history classes back at the Academy that once every home and most buildings had cold and hot running water and every home had a bathtub. These days hot water that flowed from the pump required a crystal-powered heater and a second set of pipes running throughout the home. Only the very rich had hot water.

There were public bathhouses spread throughout the city where attendants were employed heat water on coal or magic powered heaters and kept the tubs filled. Normally I would use the Blade Bathhouse or stop at the one down the street, but I’d been too tired. Luckily, though it wasn’t as relaxing and convenient as a bathhouse, Pinky had rigged us a small washroom in the apartment years ago with a steel tub and a small heater in the washroom. The heater had been expensive, but necessary. While warming water is a basic household spell, it would takes more power than most mages can expend at once to heat enough for bathing. We couldn’t immerse ourselves in a tub full of warm, scented water like we could at a bath house, but we could wash our hair and keep generally clean.

I put on a kettle of water and scryed Sam with my report on the morning’s activities while it was heating. I washed my hair with the first pot of water while heating a second to bathe with. Then I braided my clean, wet hair and then stepped into the tub to was the dirt and grime from my body. Once I was clean and mud free I wrapped a towel around me and went to my room, collapsing on the bed, too tired to worry about clothes, and was asleep within minutes.