Authors: B. Justin Shier
Jules started clapping.
“What just happened?” That had all been rather weird.
“Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale,” Jules explained. “He composed it while dyin’ a tuberculosis.”
“And?”
“Rei just went Romantic,” Dante explained. “You can’t win anymore.”
“Is this some sort of liberal arts bullshit?”
The three of them nodded.
“And of course I know the cause of scrofula. It’s just you people and your diseases…first you labeled them in Latin, then you named them after doctors, and now you have replaced even those most dubious placards of narcissism with even stranger acronyms…do you hope to eliminate these pathogens through obfuscation?” She shook her head at it. “I pity your students of medicine.”
Drug-Immune Tuberculosis…after the Great Slump wasted our economy, folks skimped on the little stuff. A cough. A cold. Why not try and wait them out? It gave the bugs a little room to move. Some old illnesses went on comeback tours. Drug-Immune Tuberculosis was the worst of them. Sleeping in the cold made it worse. So did poor nutrition. And there wasn’t a thing the docs could do to cure it. No medicines seemed to work. The old version of tuberculosis whittled its victims down nice and slow, but this new version was a merciless killer. For some reason, DIT escaped the lung rather quickly. You could spot the sufferers by the bumps on their necks. That was the ‘scrofula’ that Rei had mentioned.
“Hey, can mages get DIT?” I asked.
“Of course we can,” Jules replied. “We’re human, remember? And we can’t cure it either. The little buggers live inside yer cells. There’s no way of takin’ them out without wreckin’ the patient.”
I nodded. Healing magic worked by creating the conditions for vitality and growth. A wound could be healed. A fever, tempered. But if your own cells were the problem? Jules’ mentors had no cure for cancer. “So the good ole’ three foot rule it is.”
“And ya best be washin’ yer hands too, Dieter. I’m not havin’ me first pupil die of consumption.”
Rei shifted in her seat. She had been eyeing the people on the sidewalks for some time now.
“Do you refuse them shelter to hasten their demise?”
“Excuse me?” Jules looked at Rei like she was crazy.
“Do not froth so, Druid. It was merely an observation. Warmth slows the disease, yes?”
“Of course.”
“And most of these buildings are unoccupied. These pitiful creatures could live inside. But you choose to let them freeze. The intent is clear, is it not?”
“Banks own the buildings,” Dante explained.
Rei paused to think. “But are not these banks run by your fellows? Why would they not grant these people temporary license to dwell in them?”
“Banks aren’t charities,” Dante said. “They answer to their shareholders.”
Rei started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“We take what we need, and you call us monsters. You starve your own kind, and you call yourselves shareholders.”
+
The Department’s embassy was located inside a hotel called the Buckingham. The ancient limestone building sat at the end of an enormous park, and lorded over the Ohio Buckeyes across the street. The park served as the site of the 1904 World’s Fair, and the Buckingham had been built to house the many visitors. Its sturdy walls managed to reach up a good ten stories, and Christmas lights lit all the bulging balconies. An enormous tree sat at the center of its garden. We admired it as we drove up the U-shaped entrance.
“Wow,” Dante said. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Dozens of cars were cued up ahead of us, and a bustling wall of people greeted us at the door. The valets looked overwhelmed, rushing to collect keys and write up tickets. I’d have guessed there was a conference in town, but none of the other details fit. Parents struggled to pacify cranky children. Cars were packed to the rafters. I peaked inside a SUV and noted the stacks of photo albums mixed in with clothes still on their hangers. The whole operation screamed haste.
I turned to Dante and whispered, “I’m guessing these folks aren’t on their way to Disneyworld.”
“Refugees,” Dante replied. “Looks like a bunch of sparks.”
I nodded. I knew that slang. Sparks were mages ranked Tier 2 or lower. I’d heard a few of the Elliot staffers were only ranked Tier 3, but I’d never met a spark before. (Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Rei had said that the tall man we faced in New York was a Tier 2, but he’d been powered-up with an ACT device.) I was going to ask Dante what the difference was when I caught a whiff of something foul.
“Why does this place smell like a six month-old grease trap?”
Jules and Dante started laughing.
“It be one of the wards, Dieter. Keeps the Imperiti from knocking.” She scrunched her face up. “Oh! Can’t ya just picture the bedbugs?”
I shivered…I could.
Jules patted me on the back. “Just ignore the doom and gloom until we can get some matches.”
“Matches?” I asked.
Dante and the doorman’s argument distracted us. The guy was refusing to park it.
Rei planted a hundred dollars in his palm.
That shut him up.
“No one respects the classics,” Dante grumbled.
“Eccentricities require capital, captain. One must validate one’s tastes.”
“And if ya can’t bribe yer way, ya can always glam ‘em to oblivion,” Jules added.
“Nonsense. One does not glamour the help. It is considered most distasteful…like dancing nude in front of foliage.”
Dante choked off a laugh.
I looked at Jules. The Christmas tree. Back at Jules. “Wait, you mean witches’ Sabbaths are real too?”
Jules’ cheeks flushed. “They’re not watcha think!” Jules jabbed an accusatory finger at Rei. “Stop fillin’ his head with such nonsense.”
“Druid, did you not intend to invite him to the spring festival?”
“I…I…” Jules stammered. “Ya saucy twat!”
“One must use it or lose it, Druid.”
Ears going ruby, Jules stormed over to the front desk.
Rei covered her mouth to smile. “I am becoming most excellent with beater humor, am I not?”
“You mean all the teasing?”
“Indeed,” Rei replied, “I only recently discovered how the two can be achieved by the same verse.”
Dante rubbed out his temples. “I can’t wait for Talmax to kill me.”
Jules returned with the matches before I could go over the rules of preschool playtime with Rei. The grumpy Irishwoman handed one matchbook to Dante and the other one to me.
“Strike a match and take in the fumes,” she instructed.
The matches produced a purple flame that smelled a lot like apricots.
Rei cleared her throat. She still had her hand out.
“Oh, yer still here?” Jules asked. “I thought ya’d be out suckin’ somethin’ dry by now.”
“Do not trouble yourself. I’m sure Dieter would be happy to share.”
Taking me by the hands, she took in a deep draught of the fumes.
“Delicious,” she cooed.
“Dieter!” Jules blurted. “Those were for you!”
I rubbed at my burning eyes. I’d always hated apricots. “Can we all grow up, please?”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely,” Jules shot back. “I’m goin’ ta the loo.”
“And I’m going to get us some rooms,” Dante said. “I’m guessing we’ll be needing three to four of them?”
“They are both quite testy,” Rei observed.
The lobby looked quite different after inhaling all that sugary smoke. No more moldy wallpaper. No more sewage stench. Heavy iron lamps connected by polished copper pipes adorned the lobby’s walls. They were only decorative now, but they’d probably once been used to light the room. An enormous mural occupied the space above the fireplace. It featured Lewis and Clark departing on their expedition. Next to it stood another handsome pine. This Christmas tree was wrapped round and round with glinting garland. Red and green balls the size of my head hung from the branches. A dozen children were playing hide-and-seek between the fake presents beneath it.
Growing up in Las Vegas, I’d learned a lot about hotels. Each one caters to a particular segment of society. They’re built from the ground up to serve that single purpose. Back in the railroad days, the Buckingham was probably a pit stop for the powerful. I could imagine the robber barons of old cutting deals in a smoke-tinged drawing room or sipping bourbon with the buxom broads at the bar. Tonight, children in hand-me-downs ran this way and that. Grandparents rested their weary bones on the sofas. Lawyers commiserated with grease monkeys at the bar. Their shoulders were hunched, and their eyes were on their glasses. The booze was meant to numb tonight. This was the long tail of a retreat.
“Just how bad is this war going?” I asked…only to realize Rei was no longer there. I found her standing in front of a boy seated in a chair. He was wearing a black visor and waving at the air in front of him. She was waving back.
“Dieter,” she whispered. “What is wrong with this child…is he damaged?”
“Na, that’s a Fuji-Optrix. It’s a portable video game system. Full virtual reality immersion.”
“Like the AH-64E’s IHADSS? Can it do 360 degree targeting as well?”
My brain nearly ‘sploded. “Huh?”
Still it the middle of his game, the kid let out a sigh. “That’s an attack helicopter, dork.”
“Indeed. Impressive for a child.”
“Hey, I’m not a child.”
“Oh?” Rei asked.
Ready for a fight, the boy yanked off his Fuji-Optrix goggles. He had to be around fourteen. Unprepared for the sight of a supermodel in a tank top, he did a great impression of a carp.
“Holy—um, Alex.” He blinked. “That’s my name.”
“I gathered,” Rei said with a smirk. “My name is Drusilla. I am a witch of humble background.”
“Of humble what?” Alex asked.
I facepalmed.
“My family lacked capital,“ Rei explained. “I dwelt in some sort of hovel.”
Alex frowned. “That must have sucked.”
Rei smirked.
Not happy with the direction of this conversation, I decided to intervene.
“Where’s everyone coming from?”
“Arizona mostly.”
“Is it that bad out there?”
Alex frowned.” I don’t know, mister, is hell hot?”
“Wanna find out?” Okay. Yes. I was arguing with a fourteen year old…but I didn’t like how the pimply bastard kept staring at Rei’s tank top.
“And so you fled?” Rei asked. “You abandoned your city to marauders?”
Alex looked at the ground. “We barely got out. The wards were never that good to begin with. They didn’t hold for long. And the Weres were everywhere. I mean everywhere. They’re pullin’ people out of their cars on I-40. It’s not like the newspapers say.”
Alex gestured for us to come closer.
“I even saw a vamp.”
“A Nostophoros in Phoenix?” Rei chuckled. “Really, child. Are you certain you were not wearing this fantasy toy at the time?”
Alex stiffened. “I know a vamp when I see one.” He patted at a lump in his jacket. “We do drills and everything.”
I groaned. Alex was packing wood.
“You do drills?” Rei leaned forward and introduced him to the major leagues. It really wasn’t really fair. Rei wasn’t even wearing a bra. “Tell me, have these drills prepared you to face a real one?”
Alex gulped. The poor kid was going down in the flames of puberty.
I glanced around the room. None of the hundred or so mages were paying us much heed…but that could all change in an instant.
“Rei, take it easy. We don’t need to hash this out right now.”
“Hush, Dieter. The boy claims to be more than a child. Let him speak for himself.”
“I don’t want no fights with the vamps,” he replied. “That would be stupid.”
“It most certainly would.” Rei tilted her head in the direction of a blond girl playing with a dozen toy ducklings. She looked six years old at the most. “But what if that little one was in their clutches? Would you abandon her as you did your city?”
Alex stiffened. “That’s my sister. I’d kill anything that touched her.”
Rei bared her fangs in a broad smile. Alex didn’t scream. Alex didn’t struggle. He froze like a pane of glass. Not a single muscle budged. Tilting her head to the side, Rei ran a hand through his tangled hair.
“Such a reasonable little boy…it would be a pity to lose such a rarity. Let me add this important lesson to your training: do try and avoid the eyes.”
Alex’s barely managed a nod.
“I do wish to continue our conversation—but is it not past your bedding time?”
“Yea,” Alex agreed. “Yea, it is past my bedding time.”
“And should you not be nodding off to sleep, young Alex?”
“Yea, I should be noddin’ off to sleep.”
“Good, boy.” Rei drew his scent to her nostrils and let out a little sigh. “May you dream of many triumphs.”
The boy slumped back into his chair. His lids had already closed.
“Dieter, were you ever this pleasant?”
“Huh?” I was still looking at Alex. I had no idea glamour could be that effective. Rei had just shut the kid off with a single thought. I found myself agreeing with Albright. Placing Rei in a squad of glamour resistant mages was the least he could have done. Stars above, she was dangerous.
“That was so wrong,” Jules chided. Her arms were crossed, and she was wearing her schoolmarm frown.
“Seriously, Rei. An armchair is no place for a wet dream.”
“But I did not compel him to wet…” Rei frowned. “Dieter, are you employing a euphemism?”
“Guys, bad news,” Dante said. “They’re booked solid.
“Darn,” I replied. “Now what?”
“Well, we could…hey are those Fuji-Optrix goggles?”
Jules rolled her eyes. “How about the alumni club? We all qualify, right?”
“The alumni club?” Dante snapped out of his nerd drooling session. “Oh, yea. That’s what I was going to suggest.” He gestured at a quiet corner of the lobby where an antique mirror hung from a wall. “The front desk said the alumni club had a few more rooms…but we’d have to use our real IDs.”