I was happily going back to my car, looking over the city slowly coming back to life. The sun was barely coming up as the sky changed color, taking on lighter shades of gray.
“Wait,” I heard a voice from behind .
I stopped and turned to Rey with a question in my eyes.
“You need sothing?” I asked.
“Cut the bullshit,” he said as he ca closer. “What do you really want?”
I raised my eyebrows at the question.
“Were you always this sharp, or is it a recent thing?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Always have been. Now what would it take for you to help?”
“Why do you think I’d even want to help?”
“You were all over the previous case. Quite eager to stick your nose into others’ business. But once we have this whole magical installation and an empath—who you yourself said was rare—you’re all of a sudden not interested. I don’t buy it,” he said, looking in the eye.
I nodded slowly.
“It’s not that I’m not interested. It’s that I don’t think there is anything here worth sticking my neck out for.”
“You could do so consulting. Help us with the empath thing. And we can pay you, or—”
My laugh stopped his words. “Pay? You think it’s a matter of money?”
“Why? Are you scared of the killer?” he asked, a slight tone of mockery in his voice.
“You won’t get with the ‘are you scared’ strategy. I’m not five.”
“But you don’t want to stick your nose in this because of it. There is no other reason I can think of.”
“As I said, I’m just not interested.”
“Bullshit. You looked like you were having fun just a few minutes ago.”
I stopped myself from clicking my tongues. I could act out so emotions quite well. Mostly fear, disgust—things I lacked. But stopping myself from showing amusent, sothing I had been missing for the past few years, clearly wasn’t my strong suit.
“Okay. Honest answer for an honest answer. Deal?” I proposed.
“Deal.”
“Why do you want to catch this killer so badly?” I asked.
“I don’t,” he answered without hesitation.
That took aback.
“Huh. Never saw you surprised before,” Rey chuckled. “I’m not after the killer. I’m not rooting for a psychopath, don’t get wrong; I do want to catch him, but… I’ve seen my fair share of death and injustice, usually done to innocents. After all the dostic violence calls or drug-den deaths, seeing gangs wiped out without bystanders caught in crossfire is almost refreshing. It’s just that I feel cases like that will keep showing up. They already do.”
I nodded slowly, still slightly surprised by his answer.
“I simply believe this case might be to the evolution of law enforcent what the hunt for David irhofer was to profiling.”
“You want to stay in touch with the job?”
“I have no interest in being the foot soldier when people controlling fire start committing more cris.”
I looked him in the eye, but he held my gaze without flinching.
“Your turn,” he said.
“The killer is a mage. It’s obvious. And in the magic community, we don’t get in each other’s way. This one knows what he’s doing. Soone who can do this kind of ritualistic damage in a few hours knows his blade and his runes. I’m not getting into a feud with another mage or another organization.”
“What would it cost?”
“Unless you have magical knowledge or artifacts, then I’m afraid you can’t afford .”
“How about access to the FBI’s information network for just that?”
I paused, hoping my surprised face was good enough.
“Filip had a theory,” Rey continued, “that there is an internal division within the FBI working with magic, or at least one aware of it. They might have sothing for you. And even if they don’t, then it’s still the FBI. We have a substantial information network. We could look for sothing just for you.”
“You can make that call?” I asked, clearly skeptical.
“No, but Filip should. We report this to that division and stay on the case. Once we’re in, we can get you brought in. Friends in high places and all that.”
I looked at him, searching for any falsehood.
“And if you don’t stay on the case?”
“They have to be understaffed, and—”
“Are you sure?” I cut in.
“No,” he answered after a few seconds.
“Okay. Then let’s do it like that. You report what you need, reshuffle the case, and give a call when you can pay up,” I finished.
He nodded and then extended his hand. I shook it with a light smile. After that, Rey turned around to go back, but then stopped and turned back to .
“Do you know anything about the kid? Did he—”
“Peter’s all right. He should recover,” I said, and saw a light smile bloom on the man’s face. “How about your friends?”
“I’m not sure. But they had trouble accepting it all the last ti I checked. They need ti.”
I nodded and turned around.
“Have a safe drive,” I shouted behind .
This story originates from . Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
After the conversation, I returned to my apartnt and then threw myself back into the whirlwind of magic.
Peter would take a few days to talk everything over with his mother and think through his own feelings. So I had a few days of uninterrupted research. And I was getting closer and closer to unraveling the staff I brought from the mansion.
Right now, it was still in bracelet form, but I could slowly feel its core, its pulsation.
“You look like a madman, you know?” I heard Ophelia speak from the side.
I lifted my eyes from the magical circle in which the artifact lay and looked at her. She was currently also studying spells, adding death attack magic to her repertoire.
“You need sothing?”
“I would appreciate it if you stopped chuckling every ti you find sothing,” she said in an irritated voice. “It’s distracting.”
“Put on headphones.”
I saw her freeze at my words.
“What? You think magic will get offended by a bit of technology? Put on so funeral music. It will help with death magic.”
“Or you could just stop chuckling.”
“I could, yes. But...” I pointed to the book lying in front of .
It was the to I had gotten from the Butcher, the book with nine rings on it. When I got it, I never would have thought that it would help with a family artifact like the staff, but here we were. The to spoke at length about souls and the creation of abominations, but its entire first part was devoted to artifact attunent. And most interestingly, this was what the machine we dragged here from the Butcher’s laboratory was related to.
“You’ll be chuckling too once I figure out the Butcher’s theory,” I said, looking at my grumbling apprentice.
“Doubt that.”
“Oh? And what if I told you it’s a skill that could give you an edge over any other mage of the sa level?”
“The pile of junk would make stronger?”
“No, the junk is just what he used to study and confirm his theory. It’s that knowledge and experintation that lead to power.” Ophelia raised her eyebrows, her hand going to the rapier, which by now most likely felt like an extension of herself. “You know the attunent process, right?” I asked.
“One artifact attuned to the spark, and then one more for every major circle, so at the third, sixth, and, if gods permit, ninth.”
“Right. What if I told you the Butcher tried attuning one artifact per orbit?”
“What?”
“Yeah. The additional artifact would have to be weaker, but the theory should allow attunent of lower-ranked weapons or storage items. Useful stuff.”
“Did you figure it out?” she now asked, so excitent in her voice.
“No. As soone keeps interrupting my chuckling,” I gave her a look before continuing. “And the theory must still be confird, and the machine repaired. It will take ti.”
She deflated at my words.
“And how is your magic going?” I changed the subject.
“Good,” she answered and brought her eyes back to the book. “I’m learning the decay spell. Or rather, figuring out the knowledge I prayed for,” she explained, a note of irritation present in her voice.
“And how about your Faith?”
“Fine.” She gave a short answer, yet this ti didn't follow it up, letting silence hang in the air.
“Mhm. You sound like you had a fight. Are you not on speaking terms? Your deity sleeping on the couch?”
Ophelia raised her eyes from the book, looking at with a disapproving gaze.
“It’s gods we’re talking about, you know?”
I shrugged. “I’d expect them to be the bigger man and take so cody.”
“I’m not sure they have a sense of humor.”
“You’d be surprised.” I chuckled. “And what does your god want that got you irritated?”
Ophelia hesitated for a few seconds, but finally sighed and spoke up. “She wants to sacrifice a man or a woman to her who killed soone’s sister. And do it in a ritual,” she finally said. “Other than that, I’ve hit a wall in my prayers.”
“Well, I’m not sure why you’re angry about that. They clearly communicated. Isn’t that the hardest part won always talk about?”
“God, you’re annoying when you’re happy about sothing,” Ophelia grumbled.
“And before you ask, I’m not hunting your sacrifice for you. Call the cats for info.”
“Mhm.” Ophelia sighed. “Will you help in the ritual?”
“Sure.” I saw her give a surprised look. “What? I’m still your teacher.”
“Thanks,” she said, nodding her head.
Before I could tell her anything about the price for my help, I heard the door open, and in ca none other than the old cat lady with Q’Shar in her arms and Bakari trotting by their side.
“Speak of the cat, and he will appear!” I greeted.
We all exchanged pleasantries as the feline delegation began unwrapping a couple of bundles. As it turned out, Q’Shar managed to procure a few books that should ntion empaths and decided to deliver them himself.
“Those are borrowed from the rmaids,” he said, pointing at two tos. “And those we got from the auction houses,” he finished, pointing at three more. “I want you to check if—”
“That one’s a fake,” I said, pointing at one of the books he borrowed.
“You sure?”
“I have Solomon’s originals. That’s not his signature.”
“Well, the rmaids are not gonna like it,” the cat said, clicking his tongue, as he pushed it to the side.
“Those two are real, although I’m not sure they will help much,” I said, pointing to two of those he bought.
But then my eyes went to the last two. The one from the rmaids was a genuine journal written by soone working with an empath, but it was the last book that drew my attention. It was a genuine grimoire, the Arabic Picatrix, and it looked like an original work.
“How the fuck did you get that?” I asked, frowning.
“Clans are selling what they don’t need. The market’s alive once again. Although the gnos still didn’t stabilize obols, so it’s mostly bartering.”
“Gnos?” Ophelia asked, confused. “Like green clothing, bushy beards, and a pot of gold?”
“It’s a pot of obols, to be exact, and those are gno debt collectors. If you ever see one at the end of the rainbow, it’s most likely there to break your kneecaps. The luck thing is just propaganda, so you don’t run,” I explained, still looking over the to. “Who would sell that as not needed?” I changed the subject to the irritation of a still-confused Ophelia.
“No one, most likely. The cat council is in disarray. Auction houses are cozying up to new backers.”
I smiled a wide smile. “Divide and conquer, huh?”
“Exactly.” The cat mirrored my smile.
“You two deserve each other, you know that?” Ophelia decided to take Q’Shar’s role as the party pooper.
“Thanks for the books. But you could have sent anyone to carry them here. So what’s up?” I asked after putting the book aside.
“The church has so initial results on that burned archive.”
As Q’Shar spoke, the mood beca serious once again.
“We can’t tell what was taken yet, but they did eliminate quite a few works from the burned remains. And most of the remaining titles are related to mortals’ involvent in the war.”
“Weird,” I said, looking in front of with an unfocused gaze. “But why? Most of them had barely any magic. The majority would lose any connection to our world. And the few...” I paused.
“The few who kept their knowledge and disappeared off the radar would pop up in the mortal world. Advisors, priests, scamrs. So later worked in governnt programs related to magic, mostly during the world wars,” Q’Shar finished.
“But what would they want from that?” I asked, still weirded out. “And what was in there that made them burn the entire archive? Sothing we would have figured out and connected to them.”
“The pope figured out as much, but nothing matches that pattern. They’re still looking for people who even know what was in those books.”
I sighed. “Well, good luck to them. Let guess, you want to speed up cozying up to the FBI?”
“Yeah. We’ll look for a way to get more people on the inside. You try not to cause a disaster.”
“Just for you,” I answered with a smile. “Actually, I would appreciate it if you could find so cases and slip them to the magical division. Preferably ones involving so form of ntal magic. Sothing to push the empath.”
“I thought you had that handled.”
“Hey, proper murder takes ti, I’ll have you know. You can’t rush art. And I can’t leave training exercises each ti. There has to be so runaway cryptid or demon sowhere to put it on their radar once I’m on the inside.”
“I’ll try.”
I nodded, and after so small talk about what was going on in the world of cats—which sounded like politics and business—the cat left us to our devices.
I cleared my head of the distractions. For now, there wasn’t enough information to do anything further about the miracle cult, and I had an artifact to unravel.
Focusing back on the staff, I took a deep breath and extended myself to it, finally managing to sense a pulse of the core. A smile blood on my face.
That was a good day. Now, to just attune it, and I would have a new staff. Still not sure what it could do, though.
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