Maker

Chapter: 10

Chapter: 10

We had to drop off the children, but first I had to be certain that Happy the Peanut wasn’t pursuing them.

I regrouped with Zora, and after a long session of first aid, we spent the night jumping from place to place and doubling back. We couldn’t find any sign of being followed. That was good. It was pointless to drop the kids off with Rollo if Blackstar could just walk right in and take them back. It was near dawn by the time I was finally willing to risk it.

Rollo got to work early; I knew that. Sometimes he never left. With two missing children on his watch, I was sure he would be awake and out looking for leads. That or sitting in his office with an IV full of coffee.

The police station downtown was open all the time, but it wasn’t safe. These kids needed to be someplace out of the way. A bunch of cops with guns would only slow Blackstar down a few minutes—if they slowed him down at all.

My only choice was Rollo’s house, which was dangerous because I could lead Blackstar there. Same story with every other place I knew of. In the end, I picked the police station. I could stay for a while if needed.

I walked in and left Zora hiding in a nearby parking garage with the kids; somewhere on the roof where she could see things coming. She had my jacket, and if needed it could get her a swift exit off the roof so she could run. We’d left the big man at my lab on the east side, mixed in with the homeless. Once I’d slowed down and had time to think, I wasn’t sure why we’d pulled him out of there at all, but I was glad we did. I had questions, lots of them, who was he? Why was he there handcuffed to a bed? I certainly wasn’t going to ask Happy the Peanut. Another time, whoever he was it was clear he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

Zora had been asking the children questions and making small talk as we moved. They weren’t all that coherent. They were awake, but still under the influence of whatever Blackstar and company had done to them. I kept my distance, keeping a lookout.

I walked into the station looking around for each camera and alternate ways out. The place was a nightmare in that regard. The lobby was a desk, a metal detector and a door you had to be buzzed through.

The only obvious way out was the way I came in, and that was a giant glass wall of entryway doors that were just dying to be blown up. Architects seemed to have a fetish for glass, sometimes I could swear they had it in for humanity. Windows explode inward, you morons.

The cop at the front desk looked me up and down in a way that made me think he was cataloging details. Like he’d need to pick me out of a line up later. Tall, black, shaved head, young kid with black cargo pants, white t-shirt, black backpack, and an arm covered in bandages. Survey says: petty criminal, drug dealer, undesirable. I guess that wasn’t too far off.

The officer had seen one too many doughnuts, and was old enough to not care. He had a full head of gray hair and a sparkling uniform. He was likely just waiting the few extra years he’d need to retire. I sighed. Retiring would be nice. If only there were no monsters.

“Is Detective Rollo available? I have a tip on a missing person he said he was looking for.” I said that to allay any suspicion. It didn’t work.

The officer said nothing, just got on the phone and called Rollo. He must’ve dealt with informants before. I was certainly looking over my shoulder enough to be one. He knew if he asked to take a message I would refuse to say anything. That was normally the way it went anyway. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Rollo appeared after about ten minutes. This was his station, but as I expected, he was out in dark alleys getting answers. When the door opened, I heard a car horn and jumped, reaching for a pistol I wasn’t wearing before realizing it was Rollo standing there.

“Damn son, you alright?” he said, moving his hand away from his gun. The desk cop was doing the same. Maybe he wasn’t the fat useless type after all.

“No. But I’ll be all right.” With a deep breath, I put my fear back in check, but it didn’t go away. That particular neurochemical cocktail didn’t fade quickly when I was exhausted.

I walked out, and he followed. We were outside and moving at a brisk pace before he spoke.

“Got a lead on the kids I assume?”

“Stop talking. Monsters have great ears.” I said. Talking out in the open and not behind a threshold before the sun was up was practically inviting a vampire to listen in. I didn’t think there were any around, but I hadn’t lived this long by taking stupid chances.

I was looking around as I made for the once-empty parking garage. It was starting to fill up as a line of cars were already queueing to get in. I checked my phone and it said 0458. It was downtown and people were already starting to arrive for the workday. The janitors, sanitation people, and bus drivers—all the people who made things run smoothly.

Rollo followed me to the elevator and we went up to the top floor. There weren’t enough people around yet for there to be more than a few cars up here.

I whistled and got a hoot back. I whistled again twice and waited. Zora stayed hidden just in case Rollo wasn’t Rollo, but I’m pretty sure he was. Monsters felt different. It was hard to explain, but the better you knew someone, the harder you were to fool.

The children came forward hesitantly. They were still drowsy and lethargic. They were holding hands, dragging their feet and looking like they might fall at any moment. I wasn’t good with children. People said I was, but I didn’t think so. They did seem to make much more sense to me than the average adult. Maybe that was it. I couldn’t even look at or say a word to these kids. I hadn’t looked much at Rollo either.

Rollo rushed over and scooped them up like they were his own. Ryan passed out on his shoulder almost instantly, while Theresa just stared in bewilderment at him like she had done with everything since she’d woken up.

“Get them into witness protection or something and keep them there. A month at minimum. Someplace with lots of families, and never invite anyone in. Treat everything that comes to the door like a vampire, and never go anywhere that isn’t well populated.”

Rollo nodded. “How did you—”

“No time for that story. Suffice to say you owe me a few beers,” I said, walking off to where Zora would be. No way I was gonna tell Rollo I had committed arson, murder, attempted murder, destruction of property, criminal trespassing, and disturbing the peace just to get them back. Those were just the broken laws I could think of. The list would be ten times as long once the District Attorney got a hold of me. Hell, they’d probably charge me with terrorism. That was popular these days.

Dawn was at hand, and I could already hear traffic starting to pick up. It was time to quit.

I ran off with Zora into the early morning, wondering why I didn’t feel better. The answer wasn’t difficult to find. I had just painted a giant target on my back and Zora’s. Those kids were fine. They could go to the nearest rooftop and let off fireworks. Blackstar would be coming after me. Taking that premise as a gospel truth left me with few options; none of them good.

* * *

As exhausted as I was, sleep had been elusive. Instead, I wrapped my burned, shattered arm in my ace bandage and a few hours later we were sitting back at Miles’ having breakfast. There were stories about the fire in Durham on the news and all over the net. The fire department was able to contain it before it spread to any other buildings. The fire was said to have started by a random spark setting off grease in an abandoned car repair facility. The man who owned it blamed transients and so did the fire department.

“Thankfully no one was injured,” said the newscaster, an older distinguished looking brunette woman.

“No one injured?!” Zora laughed pounding the counter with her fist and spitting pancake crumbs everywhere. “Do they realize what an insult that is to my professionalism?!”

If they decided to investigate thoroughly, they would find a gross number of inconsistencies—but they wouldn’t do that. That wasn’t the way the world worked.

I sighed. My breakfast had long since gotten cold. Scrambled eggs, bacon, grits and coffee. I wasn’t hungry. Zora was though. Miles was flipping her fourth serving of strawberry pancakes. So much for the carbs; she always ate like that after a fight.

“Should’ve known that was you. They been talking about it all night.” Miles said, slapping down another T-bone and pouring on another half dozen scrambled eggs for Zora. Telling the universe how to behave took a lot out of you. Had to have some way to put it back. Kinectomancy burned a lot of energy. Zora ate like a whale even when there wasn’t a fight. I, on the other hand, couldn’t have less of an appetite—despite how many spells I’d cast.

Only a part of it was all the c*****e. Bodies ripped up and broken apart. It was difficult to maintain a respect for life when you could end them with a few chemicals mixed in just the right proportions. Maybe it was terrible. Maybe I was used to it. That was actually the thing bugging me the least.

At the top of the list was a ritual summoning involving two children, a Vermillion Falls vampire and enough dark magic to raise the Titanic. I’d disrupted the circle, and even if I hadn’t, the fire would’ve probably taken care of it.

It would be dumb to think that they would cut their losses and not try again. Now I needed to find out what they were summoning and stop them. If they needed two children, at least I would have a few days warning. Not that a few days would be much help looking for two needles in a city-sized haystack. As ruthless as it was, it would be far more advantageous if they needed those two specific children.

I desperately hoped this had nothing to do with Rania’s prediction.

Had I known the kids were there I would’ve rigged the entire building to blow, snuck in, gotten them out, grabbed my pack, blew the building, and put a bullet in any survivors from a hundred yards away. Too late for that now. It was a good plan for the information I had at the time, but hindsight always made me feel like a blind i***t.

Next up was a man held hostage. Blackstar and The Constellation obviously weren’t above torture. I’d dressed some of his wounds, so I knew from touching him that he had power. Was he a member of Blackstar’s crew? Some supernatural creature that looked human? Why was he strapped to a table being tortured? Was it torture at all?

It was possible that I was holding a Martinet level wizard who was going to wake up at any moment and rip me to shreds. It was not outside the realm of possibility that he was being punished in some way. He may wake up and find that delivering my head would put him back in The Constellation’s good graces.

That was unlikely, but a small chance wasn’t zero chance. I could also be deluding myself about how unlikely it was. He was locked up behind the strongest threshold I had access to, which just so happened to be twenty feet above where I sat. He was chained to a bed, gagged, hooded and inside the most powerful circle I knew how to draw. All that could hold nearly anyone.

He wasn’t awake and showed no signs of waking anytime soon. At the moment he was getting nutrition through a vein. Zora was keeping tabs on him since he was tied up in the apartment across from hers.

The phone rang, and Miles picked it up. It was a brief conversation. He grunted, hung up, and went right back to flipping eggs, steak, and pancakes.

“Maker, your truck is ready, and when you gonna start using your phone?”

“Never,” I said at the same time Zora chimed in,

“You know we can’t use our phones, old man. Besides, why bother, we have a secretary.”

Phone calls could be tracked. A lot of things could be tracked. In a world that was becoming more and more connected, hiding was becoming more and more difficult. Rumor had it that vampires had heads of state on the payroll. Finding one little ol’ wizard wouldn’t be difficult at all. Anonymity was one of the greatest advantages Zora and I had. Using our phones as phones all the time would be like painting a giant neon sign above our heads. I only used mine to read and tell time.

Zora was an electronic wiz kid before her magic began to manifest. She was still pretty good at it, but she hadn’t found a way to make a cell phone secure yet. I was waiting for that. It was always nice to have one less thing to worry about.

“Still the first good news I’ve had all day,” I said, shoving some eggs and bacon into my mouth. It tasted terrible, but it had everything to do with my mood and nothing to do with the cooking. “I need to think; I’m going shopping. Then I’ll walk over and grab my wheels. Standby here and watch our mystery man, got a lot of questions for him.”

Zora grunted something that resembled acknowledgment while shoveling more food in her mouth.

I decided to walk and not bother with a taxi. The mystery man wasn’t getting up today. I kept my mind empty, thinking about philosophy or the motions of elementary particles. Any subject was preferable to the mess I was in. It was nearly an hour before I got to where I was going.

The place was a hole in the wall; at least the door was. It was a door in between two buildings. There could be an alley there just as easily. Most folks walked by without even a glance at the simple gold lettering of “Graced Antiques.”

I walked right in, even though there was no open sign on the outside. The place was dark—there were no windows in the large room. There were tables along the front wall filled with all sorts of knick-knacks. Anything and everything, so long as it was old.

Everything was sparkling clean and beautifully restored. At the back of the store were shelves filled with books; more books than you could read in a lifetime. Not because you couldn’t turn that many pages, but because they were mostly written in dead and ancient languages you’d have to learn and correctly interpret first. The place was a library of old arcane scrolls and texts.

Grace was the grandmother of the woman who sat on a stool behind a small table polishing something brass. It could’ve been a spittoon or chamber pot of some type, but Jayne polished it gently, and almost lovingly—like it was the most precious thing in the world. She had brown hair that touched her shoulders and brown eyes. A face so remarkably plain that she was beautiful if you could keep your eyes on her without them simply sliding away to something more interesting. Despite the heat, she wore a sleeveless turtleneck sweater and a flowing white skirt that went to her ankles.

“Hey Maker,” she said without looking up. I waved but didn’t speak, already passing my hand over the objects on every table. There weren’t many new items this week. There was just enough to keep me busy and take my mind off my life for a bit.

“How’s business?” I asked, though I didn’t need to. Even one different thing on the tables meant business was going quite well.

“Very good. Everyone seems to want a talisman or something to protect them lately. Apparently some asshole out there is stirring up the locals.”

“That hurts. I’m an innocent bystander in… whatever it is you’re talking about.”

She looked up just long enough to let me know she didn’t buy a word of it. I smiled to say I hadn’t meant a word of it.

“It’s cool. Wiccans come in, I tell them whatever they’ve picked out is probably useless, and they buy it anyway. Not sure what it is that makes folks think everything old has power. Maybe the fact that a certain someone has been seen shopping here.”

That was a shock. Sure, there were practitioners everywhere, but to hear there was a “Maker following” was a little jarring. I’d ask why, but that was a stupid question. Everyone knew about Vermillion Falls and Duke, and I had worked hard never to confirm or deny any of Duke’s suspicions. I was way less powerful than he thought.

There was a thorn in his side, and he didn’t want to act until he could prove it was me that put it there. I didn’t know why. Duke could squash me like a bug at will, even if I was a Martinet reject like he thought.

My hand passed over a small wooden box and I felt the faint hum of more photons being emitted than anything else on the table. Sensing magic this way was always a faint impression. Waves of energy coming off of things brushed against my senses in a way that felt like someone breathing close to my skin. That was why I called it whispering.

All magical tools, I’ve found or made, either radiated power or sucked it in—both stuck out like a sore thumb if you knew what to look for. The top of the box was all edges and fit together perfectly. I didn’t know what wood it was; I knew little about antiques.

What I did know was that some things were made with exceptional quality and skill. Old things made by master craftsmen; things made precisely and carefully. Those things had magic infused in them from their making or from being a part of people’s lives for so long.

Just from touching it I knew that this box could be made into something magical. If I laid down the right spells, any box could be made magical, but “any box” would have to be powered by me. This one, if done well, could power itself in full or in part. That took the burden off of me, and it would last a lot longer before failing.

Grace traveled all over the world, bringing back any antiques she fell in love with. She and Jayne restored them, and then they were sold. Some antiques could cost a hefty sum.

“Got anything that’s not obvious?” I asked, gesturing to the tables. The answer was almost always no, but I asked anyway.

Jayne just shook her head. I walked through the rest of the store browsing. I found a few books that looked sufficiently old, but nothing else that had power. I paid two hundred dollars for the small box and left the store wondering what I could do with it.

I walked out onto an empty street—no cars, no people. That was…

“OOOOUUNNNNN,” the voice in my skull was a roar, and it didn’t go away this time. It was so painful I fell backwards into a building and stumbled down an alley. Fat lot of good it did trying to run from a voice in my mind. I wanted to will it away. Tried and failed. Gritting my teeth through this assault wasn’t helping either.

I started to run, stumbling down an alley and knocking over a trashcan, only to see a woman in front of me. I didn’t have time to register her features before I was hit in the face with a bat. I didn’t remember hitting the ground, but I was down and surrounded by three figures.

There were punches, kicks, more one on one time with the bat, and a crowbar that made gravel out of my once pristine ribs. I kept trying to speak. A potion—any potion, my wand… nothing would come to my hand.

Each time a spell formed on my lips a scream left my mouth. The word or phrase itself had never mattered before. Then again, I’d never had a fallen god bellowing in my head before. I was thankful for the darkness when it finally arrived to engulf me.

“Took ya long enough.”