Modern Wizardry
1
I like to
read. It’s one of my major hobbies, and the reason I spent most of the
afternoon haunting three bookshops and filling most of my bike’s fairly
spacious luggage compartment with paper and binding. I can read most anything,
from autobiographies and romances to science, thriller, mystery, horror,
history and plain fiction. My favourite genre however, is fantasy and science
fiction, and with the recent popularity of Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and
such like, the selection was growing by the week. The first book I ever read
was Frank Herbert’s celebrated Dune, the second, Zelazny’s Lord of Light; I
suppose that explains it. I mostly eat by myself, and I can’t even do that much
without something to read. In desperation, I sometimes resort to TV and movie
guides, or – horror of horrors – advertisement flyers and brochures. It’s that
or pace, which is enough to annoy the hell out of anyone – even me. I read very
quickly, and mostly remember everything I read, which makes rereading a favoured
book an unpleasant chore, at best. My reading habits shaped my life. Then they
changed my life.
The third and
last store of the day had a tiny opening to the city’s major thoroughfare, but
spanned three stories and a basement. It had a large section of used and
bargain books, room to sit and browse, and a very large selection. I always
like to leave the best for last, obviously.
It wasn’t
just the books, of course. It was also the people who buy and read them. You’d
find it astonishing and quite stereotype shattering. I spent nearly an hour
talking rapid fire fashion with a pair of black 13-year-old girls – I’m 16, by
the by – about books; which basically means we talked about everything and
anything. Many of the people I keep in touch with I met in those
not-really-dusty corners, picking up a book and then smiling and asking a
question. Or remarking on the book they picked from the shelf. It was a
different world, one all its own. Much of it was an exchange of ‘you really
need to read so-and-so’ and the reasons for such recommendations, but the
people who buy and read books are, in general, worth speaking with. It was a
philosophy and debate class of a sort, an invisible stratum of society and a
world of in-jokes and awful puns.
The only
written thing I avoided like leprosy was poetry. My diatribes concerning the
subject had almost brought tears to the eyes of my English teacher, a recent
college graduate named Shirley, whose unpleasant job it was to beat
appreciation of the wonders and insights ascribed to scribbled lines of inanity
into hard-headed-and-hearted teens. We managed to reach a truce on the subject.
I acknowledged my inability to ‘get it’, and she promised not to bother me in
class about it. Otherwise I’d have hounded her on the subject with a
never-ending spate of sarcastic comments and puns. Shirley is a petite and
lovely blue-eyed blond girl and I’m a male of sixteen, so I mostly managed to
keep my mouth shut in class.
My bike is
of the three-wheeled variety, two rear wheels keeping much better traction and
stability. Sure, I could have bought something big, loud, noisy and
fashionable, but I was much more concerned with safety and fuel efficiency. I
hate to drive. Oh sure, there’s an edge of adrenalin and almost physical
pleasure in moving faster than the wind, weaving from lane to lane and getting
there first. Unfortunately, a by-product of too much reading is the sickening
realization of just how fragile the human body is, and the knowledge that it
really can happen to you. No matter how cautious, smart and fast you are,
there’s always someone whose lucky day it isn’t. Or someone who isn’t quite as
cautious, smart, and fast as you are; or drunk or stoned, for that matter. I’m
not big on trusting people – I drive carefully. On the other hand it’s a
statistical fact that even paranoiacs die, so I don’t take it to extremes. Slow
isn’t necessarily good, but helmets are mandatory. Anyone with brains also
wears some sort of protective clothing when using one of the most dangerous
implements invented by mankind. Jeans, heavy long-sleeved shirt and gloves are
enough for me.
Home was
twenty minutes away, a not-so-small walled villa by Stetting Park. You might
call us ‘comfortably well off’ or ‘upper middle class’. Mom was a former hot
shot prosecutor turned judge, and my father was an upper executive in the
Republic Bank. Which is to say, I didn’t really see much of them. When they
scraped up vacation days, they usually spent them together abroad, anywhere
from Prague to the Caribbean. I couldn’t complain. They really needed some
rest, and they couldn’t get any at home, not really, not nowadays. Too much
communication technology meant that you were always on call, and unfortunately,
with their job descriptions, they just couldn’t set up an office at home.
I keyed
the gate open, keyed the garage open, and spent nearly an hour carrying and
arranging the books. The library room, unfortunately, was on the second floor.
There was enough room, if barely, as I regularly donated books to libraries or
just ‘loaned’ them to people. It was very difficult, but the parentals finally
broke through my stubborn resistance last year. They were adamant, and probably
correct, pointing out that there just wasn’t any more room, and kindly offered
to remove a few computers to make some more. I resigned myself to the status of
collector-emeritus, gritted my teeth, and got rid of some books. It was almost
physically painful. Computers are not only another major hobby; they’re also my
job. Or jobs, rather, so clearing space in the computer room was quite
impossible.
Fortunately,
my annoying little sister and her pack of simpering friends were away at summer
camp. A camp whose central theme was horses, of all things. Big, smelly,
dangerous creatures. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of all those
spoiled little girls shovelling horse manure. I remember trying to explain to
her that not everything that looked ‘cute’ on TV or in magazines was something
you particularly wanted to meet in person. Her response was less than polite,
and aired at dinner with our parents… which cost her the weekend and the party
she’d babbled about for nearly the entire week. Icy politeness was the best I
got from her before she disappeared into equine land. The blessed quiet at home
was truly welcome.
Air
conditioning or no, I was feeling a mite ripe, so I took a quick shower, tossed
my clothes into the ‘dirty’ hamper and put on a pair of shorts. Then it was
time for the kitchen, damn but was I hungry. It was quite startling, the sheer
amount of food I managed to shovel into a seemingly bottomless stomach, without
gaining an ounce of weight. Privately, I was starting to doubt the conservation
of energy and mass physics. With the parents in Australia and Lee, my fourteen
year old bitch of a little sister, in camp, I had no one to moan, tease and
groan over the platefuls I consumed. Three fairly big meals a day and the
occasional snack were only just enough to keep me functioning.
Picking up
the book I’d been reading (Dave Duncan’s ‘The Cursed’), I put in a marker and
returned to the library. I’d been a bit rushed at the end of the shopping
spree, and hadn’t really looked at everything I’d bought. At least, not beyond
the title, and I’d picked most of them from the used section, so some were
quite battered. I used to be a real fanatic on the subject of taking proper
care of books, but I’d mellowed quite a bit since having to let so many of them
leave my clutches. I was still real tight-assed about taking care of most other
things.
Putting the
book aside, I picked up the first pair of new ones, sat down in front of the
library computer, and clicked to Amazon. ‘Crystal Warriors’ and ‘Crystal
Sorcerers’, paperbacks in not too terrible a shape, and more importantly, the
only ones in the series. Looked readable if not inspiring, fairly standard
‘people sucked into fantasy dimension granted powers and fighting it out’. This
was going to take quite a bit of time, as I’d bought over eighty books,
stocking up for the summer vacation.
After a
while, I got a bit blurry. Rising, I stretched and did a few high kicks. I’d
studied Jiujitsu, twice a week like clockwork for almost eight years now, and I
should be ready to test for black belt before the school year, so I was quite
limber. I trudged down the stairs, filled a beer-mug sized glass with coke, and
went back to ‘work’. The next book had nothing but ‘Wizardry’ written on the
black leather cover, and looked old and a bit ratty. Strange, there was no
mention of author, and the only Wizardry I could think of offhand was an old
computer role-playing game.
The first
page was blank. I jumped a few pages forward, and blank white paper was all
there was to it. The first thing that leaped to mind was some sort of cheat on
the part of the store, but that didn’t make sense, seeing as folks usually
looked at a book before paying. I looked at it again, quizzically, and saw that
there was something written there. Raise your hand, point your index finger
up and say ‘Hadriax Varsshath’, was written in the middle of the page. I blinked. “What the heck?!”
Shrugging, I raised my left hand, pointed the index finger up and said
the words. I had a bit of trouble pronouncing the ‘sshath’ sound. The third
time I tried it, a column of blue fire as thick as my finger shot up into the
air, bubbling like a fountain. I froze in shock. My mouth dropped open. My mind
went blank. There was no heat… in fact, I was growing colder. Movement drew my
eyes, as the text on the open page shifted. Release the spell by lowering
your index finger, it said. I didn’t think about it, but when I looked up
my fists were clenched and the fire was gone. I clenched my teeth, hard, and
broke into sudden sweat. “What…?” I coughed, “what happened?”
Reflexively, I looked down at the book. This time, I was not terribly
surprised to see new words inscribed upon the paper.
You cast your first spell, a first circle energy
manipulation cantrip.
“Will you answer my questions?” I asked. I winced at the quavering sound
of my voice, drew in a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my forehead.
Yes, within the limits of what you are permitted to know and what is
contained in the book of wizardry appeared on the page.
“What questions would I be best served by asking? Write the answer
immediately below the question,” I ordered in a much calmer voice. The
resulting flood of information left me reading with feverish intensity until 4
am. Despite that, I was so excited I had trouble falling asleep. I didn’t…
well, hadn’t believed in magic or the supernatural. Believe it when I see it…
and see it I had.
What I learned was astonishing, if true. I felt it best to retain a
healthy modicum of skepticism. Trusting an enchanted book too far did not
strike me as the smartest thing a would-be wizard should do. Oh yes, that is exactly
what I was, now. I’d cast my first spell, and there was no going back.
The list of questions was enormous, but most of it was technical
information, telling me how to learn quickly and what I needed to do in order
to pronounce the throat-twisting syllables and perform the gestures that
unleashed spells with perfect accuracy. The rest…
A student of wizardry drew all the power for a spell from himself. That
was why I’d felt myself growing colder, physically weaker. Trying the wrong
spell could kill me. No, it WOULD kill me. The more experienced I got, the less
energy each spell would require. A real wizard could imbue talismanic objects
with his own power, effectively creating a magical reservoir. The archwizard
could actually draw on other sources to power his spells – the elements
themselves.
How did one graduate from student to wizard? Restricted information. One
had to master the tenth circle of spells from the schools of life magic,
transmutation and energy control, as well as the second circle of mind magic,
before having to pass a test of some sort. Archwizard? Attain the fifteenth
circle of life, which contained the spells of rejuvenation, learn how to become
one with the elements, and master the fifth circles of spirit and mind.
Whatever ‘becoming one with the elements’ meant.
The elements? Surprise, I’d always thought there were four: fire, air,
earth and water, in the classic Greek tradition of Plato, Aristotle and their
brethren. The Buddhists added void or aether, and the Chinese mythos contained
the elements of wood and metal, while neglecting air. The book cited six – the
classic four as well as wood and spirit. But there was much more to the
elements than mere natural forces and the currents that ran through the world.
A large portion of ‘what is dangerous or potentially dangerous to me’ dealt
with the elemental courts and the bewildering variety of creatures that made
their homes there. These courts apparently regulated the weather, tectonic
activity and many other natural and supernatural phenomena… and even chaos
theory was of limited use in predicting their behavior. The elementals normally
dwelt apart and avoided humanity… only wizards, by their count, did not count
as part of humanity. The circle of binding allowed wizards to control or
extract services from elementals, which made them generally hostile to wizards,
leaving a lone student such as I especially vulnerable. There were also a lot
of exceptions to the rule of elemental reclusiveness, and a tremendous body of
protocol regarding their modes of address. An angry storm giant or firedrake
were not something even experienced wizards wanted to face, so it was etiquette
school and learning languages humans weren’t meant to pronounce. Sheesh, but I
did not find that particularly appealing.
Of course, all that information was suspect. The book could provide
nothing of the internal politics, methods and views of today’s courts, for it
was last updated in 1911, and even then only partial information had been
provided.
The circles of magic were basically arbitrary groupings of techniques
and spells, dealing with a single overarching subject matter. The largest of
them was the circle of energy manipulation, which included everything from
lighting a fire, to illusions, weather control and telekinesis. The circle of
life dealt with living things, how to take them apart and put them together…
and a lot more. Many of the techniques student wizards had to learn dealt with
manipulating one’s vocal chords and physical self. Perfect memory and wizard
sleep, only requiring two hours of sleep a night, were two of the first things
I needed to study. Transmutation dealt with objects and changes thereof, and
required major study of chemistry and physics, as the more advanced life magics
required considerably more than a medical degree did – to heal a broken bone
you had to know exactly where you wanted each little thing, were every
capillary went… damn.
The two most complicated circles were those of mind and spirit. I would
have thought that memory and sleep would be part of these, but evidently such
minor things were part of the physical body: brains, hormones, and such. The
book did not offer any real explanation, beyond the initial comment on the
arbitrary nature of the groupings. Nor would it answer my question on whether
wizardry was an art or a science. Mind magic dealt with sensing and influencing
emotions, thoughts, memories and attitudes, while the spirit dealt with the
world beyond the world, whatever that meant. Some wizards could not master even
the first circle of spirit, sensing the immaterial, but the book assured me
that I’d manage it... eventually. Only those with strong archwizard potential
could see the book.
Potential dangers, now there was a long list. Naturally, the first
danger was overusing magic and killing myself, either directly or through
exhaustion in deleterious circumstances (shit happens, and then you die).
Strangely, there was no mention of human authorities, and the book refused to
comment on the matter – suspicious, to say the least. Or maybe not… if it had
last been updated in 1911, it was hardly up to date. The next danger mentioned
was other wizards.
The third danger was religion. Knock me over with a spoon… religion? The
danger, apparently, was twofold. First the gods themselves. Yes, gods plural,
and no – it wouldn’t elaborate beyond telling me that the gods had been
imprisoned in the sun five millennia ago. If they were gods, what had the power
to do that, for god’s sake? I laughed hysterically for a couple of minutes
after reading that. I’d always been somewhat skeptical about religion, but I
hadn’t rejected it outright. I just didn’t know what to think – it was one
subject my parents had never mentioned so much as once. I managed to learn that
Alex, my father, came from a strict Catholic home, and bore a great deal of ill
will towards anything religious. Mom was more opaque on the subject, and I’d
never been interested enough to actually ask. I’d only seen the inside of a
church in movies. But to read, in an undeniably magic book, that there were
gods, and that they were imprisoned… skeptic or not, it sort of shook my world.
If not quite as much as the existence of magic did.
The gods were dangerous, because imprisoned or not, they still possessed
power beyond reckoning, and could be reached with the correct rituals. I was
warned that doing so would not be wise. The second aspect to the danger
religion posed was those individuals and orders that had pledged themselves to
the gods and channeled their powers. Some were benign, but several were
apocalyptic or merely insane. Presumably reflecting their patrons. After
millennia of jail time, I suppose I wouldn’t feel too kindly inclined towards
anything and anyone free, either. I had trouble enough with boredom while masticating.
Beyond this were the demons – not from hell, of which there was no
mention – but the general name for anything from another dimension. The book
admitted that it did not contain information that would directly permit passage
between dimensions, nor did it contain any information on the nature of
existence. The indirect means to travel between dimensions lay in the circle of
spirit. It directed me to another text, the Eidola Incarnate, if I wished to
investigate further, and indicated that there were copies of the text within
the elemental courts and others in the possession of wizards.
Wizards; I wasn’t too eager to make contact with them. Supposedly, about
three thousand years ago, the organization to which all wizards had belonged by
force of law had shattered, most of its members perishing in a desperate war to
stop an invasion of demons. Since then, the elemental courts had acted in
unison, despite their incessant bickering, to prevent the formation of another
such organization. So nowadays there were lone wizards, small groups and
cabals, and hidden societies. There was no predicting what their reactions
would be, beyond basing them upon the foundations of humanity in general, which
meant that they would probably not react in a favorable manner.
It seems that while supernatural forces are no longer actively hunting
down wizards, it was not a safe occupation. North Korean peasants had a better
life expectancy than a wizard who didn’t take security seriously.
Magical artifacts were another deadly danger to a novice. The book of
wizardry was one of the old teaching tools, but almost every other enchanted
item was protected in some way. Wizards in general were paranoid, and cultists
were even worse. Wizard’s first rule – if it’s magical, don’t touch it.
Beyond dimensional travel, there were other things the book did not
contain. The arts of divination were contained in the Book of Omens.
Transportation spells were forbidden knowledge for some reason the book would
not divulge. Knowledge of battle magic was taught by the Codex of Yarim and
Aluthia’s Analects, contained in magical gems or weapons, or the warscepters
that were the personal regalia and status marker of the archwizards of old. The
circle of energy manipulation contained some useful things, but if it came to a
serious fight, I was basically cooked.
Waking up, the first thing I did was repeat the firefinger cantrip. I
watched the flames fountain, licked my lips, and was alternately afraid and
elated. This was serious shit. I’d never before faced any real problems in my
life. I was lucky that way, and well did I realize it. Rich parents who were
good people, serious smarts, reasonable health (barring allergies)… life was
basically good. If I was too moral to seduce a girl I didn’t much care about,
that was my fault. Yes, still a virgin. A year ago, I’d decided to take care of
it. I was a geek, but I was a good looking – if relatively short – smart, and
rich geek. I had plenty of self-confidence, too.
I found a nice looking girl, made sure she was single, asked her out,
kept dating and entertaining for a couple of weeks, and had her naked in bed in
short order. She was reluctant to go through, though I’m not certain how much
of that was genuine, but I could have pressured her... easily. If not then, the
next time, or the next one after that. I had condoms ready and all. But it
felt… I don’t know, empty. I wanted to get my rocks off, and nothing more. Oh,
I had no intention of dumping her immediately, or even at all. I’d picked her
as seducible and pretty, and for no other reason. I didn’t particularly enjoy
her company. We had no interests in common. Saying the ‘love’ thing made my
throat twist. She was pleasant enough, if far from brilliant, tiny, dark-haired
and somewhat plump, with spectacular breasts and a cute face. Fuck-worthy, as
any testosterone laden teen would say, and certainly not a girl you’d kick out
of bed.
But that’s basically what I did. I felt nothing for her, and just
couldn’t go through with it. I managed to avoid her for a week, and we broke it
up amicably enough. Call me stupid. I certainly did, plenty of times, as I
masturbated a minimum of twice a day. Stupid romance books, infecting me with
the need for that elusive ‘spark’. Stupid fantasy books, infecting me with the
do-gooder syndrome. I really hoped I’d meet someone who attracted me for a
reason other than aesthetics, or rather, in addition to her appearance, next
year – and it had to be next year at the earliest, because the months of summer
were suddenly filled. No, overfilled – I still had my jobs and money business
to take care of.
Thinking of work, I rolled out of bed, put on a pair of shorts (I sleep
in underwear), slipped my feet into my comfortable old slippers and hurried to
the computer room. Or began hurrying, rather… I caught the doorjamb and spun,
running right back. I opened the book, and asked, “Do bullets work on
elementals and demons? Can I lose you?”
Bullets will work on most demons, but will not harm
elementals. A transmutation of the seventh order can enchant bullets against
all elementals other than spirit creatures. Spirit spells of the second circle
are required to harm such beings, and bullets will be of no use against them.
Scrolling down, new words appeared.
This book cannot be stolen or lost. You will always
find it when you look for it.
“Damn!” I said out loud, “one hell of a spell. Hmmm,” I considered for a
moment, and added another question, “how do I create new spells?”
Still thinking about guns, I walked into the computer room. It wasn’t
much of a room – more a large closet, brimful of computer equipment and
flats-screens, with a single exceedingly comfortable (and expensive)
manager-type chair.
Computers are another hobby of mine. Like everyone younger than 20, I
grew up with them. When other kids were watching TV, the electronic babysitter,
I was reading or playing on the computer – or programming. My parents sent me
to private lessons on computer programming when I was in second grade, after I
whined too much over piano lessons. Like swimming and martial arts, it was
something you tried on your kid. Though I’m probably being uncharitable… they
meant well, and most things took. By the time they got down the list to soccer
and dance, my schedule was mostly full. Come to think of it… dance. Good place
to meet girls out of school. Bears thinking on, certainly, but not now.
Now was the time to check my e-mail and document taps. My parents would absolutely
explode if they ever found out, but I’m basically a criminal, an electronic
pirate. I took three part time jobs in three different computer labs under
three different identities as a software engineer, not for the admittedly nice
pay, but for the chance to plant backdoors. I’d had to give up one job, the
least useful, because I was running out of free time, but I was basically
making out like a bandit. The real moneymakers were the stock and exchange
markets. If you knew what was coming up, you had a license to print money,
assuming you knew what the ramifications were and how the investors, blind herd
of buffalo that they were, would react.
When I wanted to start college early, my parents were co-operative, but
they insisted on remote learning, and I’d just finished the second year of a
bachelor’s degree in mathematics and economics. It was that old promise I’d had
to make, that I’d finish high school. My father insisted on extracting it when
he loaned me $10,000 when I was twelve, for the express purpose of playing the
market. I still haven’t managed to figure out the reason behind it. But I
definitely had the education required to take advantage of the information I
managed to sift from the dross, though I probably would have made out well even
without it – or so I’d like to think, at least. If you don’t cheat, you’re not
really playing. Those are the rules in the world of sharks.
There was nothing new, but the calendar program was flashing. It was
time to pick out a position on ActiTron, as the substantially improved results
and new contracts were to be announced this weekend. I sent the buy order after
taking another look at things, and then checked the daily To Do list. There
were a couple of programming jobs to work on, but they weren’t flagged with
bonus for an early finish, and there were four days on the deadline. If I
managed the magical tricks that allowed for reduced need for sleep, sharpened
concentration and perfect recall, I’d finish them in a snap, especially since
I’d mapped everything on the projects out yesterday morning.
Damn, but as soon as I stopped concentrating, it hit me. A black hole in
my stomach, a wave of weakness and blurred vision accompanied by the shocked
understanding of what using magic and drawing upon my body’s energy really
meant. I was going to have to stuff myself like a bear preparing for
hibernation, each and every day. The more you use it, the better you get, so I
was going to cast as many spells as I could, and with the need to study, work,
play and replenish energy – the time demands and sheer amount of food I’d have
to consume meant that there was no chance of enjoying my cooking… and five
take-out orders a day would be suspicious. Not to mention silly.
After eating so much that even I had trouble believing it, I decided to
take care of the food situation first thing. There was plenty of room in the
fridge and freezer, and while I like variety it seemed that quantity and
nutritive value were far more important. I prepared three huge takeaway orders,
from Chinese, Indian and Thai restaurants, things I could toss in the microwave
later, and used the internet to order in a humongous amount of groceries and
frozen things. Perhaps I was being overly optimistic, but that much food really
should keep me functioning for at least a week. Taking another look at the
orders, I bit my lip and shook my head. I’d just spent nearly a $1000 on food,
which I expected to last me for no more than a week. How did poor student
wizards survive? Well, perhaps they rationed the use of power, or used the
spells they learned practically – as in, to steal or make money legitimately.
Come to think of it, the tiniest bit of telekinesis would take care of dice or
roulette gambling, and easily, so long as it was accomplished circumspectly. It
might… no almost certainly could influence gambling machines and ATMs.
It was time to consult the book again. I opened a notepad, and began
typing questions. When I looked towards the printer, my heart leaped. The book
was sitting innocently on the wooden desk, whereas I distinctly recalled having
left it back in my room. When it said that I’d find it when I needed it, it
meant that literally. Phew.
Alas, but there just wasn’t any information on the interaction of magic
and electronics or electricity. There was no data, and the grimly underlined
advice was not to experiment. I’d had a few thoughts, and asked some more
questions. Apparently, there were no such things as undead, vampires,
werewolves and ghouls. There were demons that had similar traits, which
explained things. I asked a few questions about the nature of demons, but the
answers were very unsatisfactory. The Archimagical College, the prime research
facility of the old Conclave, had three hotly debated theories on the nature of
demons. The first held that there were infinite possibilities and mirror
realms, and thus an infinite number and variations of demons. The second theory
was identical to the first, except that it supposed that of those infinite
variations, only a relatively limited number of possibilities had any sort of
connectivity to Earth, and thus the variations and numbers we could face, while
large, were not infinite. The third one, obviously, held that the possibilities
and variations were limited.
The answer to my question regarding the possible existence of other
types of magic was something of a surprise. It seemed that there were
unconfirmed reports of two other types of magicians. One, traitors to
humankind, are called Warlocks. Supposedly, they worshipped and served demons,
drawing some sort of power from them. The second were called Witches or Druids,
who drew power from the elements of earth and wood and from the moon.
Supposedly, their main powers touched upon nature and the art of healing,
similar in part to the circle of life. Mostly, they were reputed to serve the
gods, and were thus hard to differentiate from actual priests.
I was less surprised to discover that the book of wizardry was far from
a comprehensive collection of spells. In accordance with its purpose as a
primer that guided the wizard from infancy as a student to heights of power as
an archwizard, it held only the most common and basic spells. Thousands more
spells and yet more circles of wizardry, some obscure – the book mentioned
necromancy as an example, describing it as the use of mortal remains in magic,
a practice which was held in disrepute and ridicule in olden times – existed.
Some were known only to spirit custodians, others were inscribed upon artifacts
and inside gemstones, many resided in books or carved upon rock in temples and
remote mountains… the study of wizardry began to sound suspiciously close to
adventure.
Adventure is all very fine and dandy to read about, but it also sounds
perfectly miserable. I like my luxuries. I bit my lip at the glimpse I’d just
received of the future – a mad scramble for knowledge and power in a world that
held so very many dangers. Exciting, sure. But it didn’t promise much beyond a
chance at power and possible immortality. I knew I could never let such a
chance pass me by, of course. The book would never have picked me, otherwise.
I’m sure of that much. The damn thing can probably read me a lot better than I
can read it. I’m smart, I’m curious, and I’m not a coward.
I’m not particularly proud of that last thing. Courage is common, when
all is said and done. In the modern western world, there is seldom an
opportunity for people to demonstrate that in heroic fashion, but you need only
look back to the insanity of trench warfare in the First World War to understand.
True cowards are rare, because in a social species, cowardice is a survival
trait only to a fairly limited degree. Ha, thinking bleak thoughts and
descending into practical Darwinism. God help me. Actually, don’t help me gods…
What are the obligations of wizards? Officially, nowadays, none. But,
the book made sure to add that the survival of the world, or more specifically,
humanity, depended on wizards keeping Earth out of the hands of demons,
opposing the caprices of the elemental lords and keeping the mad gods locked
up… and however the elemental courts might choose to look upon things, wizards
were still human.
Were there any differences between male and female wizards? According to
the book, there were perhaps twice or even thrice as many female wizards as
male, but the males were generally more powerful. Not because of aptitude,
willpower, skill, intelligence or lack thereof, but because the female body,
for some reason, was less capable of handling extremes of energy. There was no
explanation, and there never had been, for the relatively profligate number of
female wizards. The percentage of the general population wizards represented –
unknown.
Could powers be combined? It turned out that wizards can cast the same
spell to multiply its power, and there were rituals and artifacts that did far
more than merely combine powers.
Could I use the book the teach someone else with the basic talent? The
answer was yes. How could I tell whether someone had such talent? The brief
answer was See the circle of life.
So I leaned back in the armchair, took another sip of coke (I had a
mini-fridge in the computer room, dark blue to match the décor) and began to
study the circle of life, or at least those few spells and techniques the
primer had. The second circle allowed for temporary enhancement to the eyes
that would show magical auras. Later on, that bit of magic would be
incorporated in me permanently.
It was more than a mite strange to think of myself as an incomplete
jigsaw puzzle. I recalled all those scientific mentions of how much of the
brain we normally use, and guessed that part of the change would open up more
gray matter for habitation. Diagrams and incredibly detailed illustrations of
everything from a single finger to internal organs to the head were shown in
tantalizing glimpses, opening up to show precise details.
The book explained that the first circles of mind and spirit contained
the spells of sight beyond sight, the ability to see things as they truly are,
which is a requisite for any complicated changes that do not involve outright
destruction. Blasting away was simple, if costly in energy – changing and
repairing were the real challenges.
The first two spells I managed to cast dealt with accelerated growth,
and slicing. Which is to say, I spent six hours watching my fingernails grow,
while I muttered arcane words over them and twitched the knuckles ever so
subtly, slice, rinse and repeat. I had to visualize the nails lengthening,
which was the hardest part of it. After I managed to grow them to a respectable
size, which took about twenty minutes, I cut them with the second spell. That
one was considerably more difficult, because the somatic motions demanded that
you raise and lower every finger other than the one you whose nail you were
slicing away. It’s awfully hard to move every finger but one in tandem. So it
took more than half an hour each time, and I cut them pretty raggedly the first
three times I tried it.
That left me utterly bushed and famished. I ate another elephant sized
meal, packed away all the grocery and food deliveries, and spent an hour
unknotting the tension that had crept over seemingly every muscle. Stretches
and warmup, some martial arts practice and weights, followed by a visit to the
hot tub/jaccuzi. Very relaxing indeed.
Having only just barely managed to stumble through two minor spells in
half a day of work, I asked the book to estimate how long it would take me to
master the rituals for physical transformation and mental discipline. A month
was somewhat longer than I’d hoped, but a lot less than I’d expected following
the disappointing results of the morning and noon. Even the most basic physical
enhancements were third circle, and there was no real end to them in view. The
book informed me, of its own volition, that the speed of learning should
thereafter increase by a factor of fifty, at the very minimum. Another of the
more immediately useful changes would be improved muscle memory – I wouldn’t
have to practice quite so much.
The book also detailed the requirements for the ritual, and mentioned
that magical auras could be detected by possible threats. It added that places
where magic was regularly performed acquired an aura all their own. I couldn’t
help but groan. I needed at least one safe house. The ritual itself was
something of a shock. I needed to create a hexagram, each vertex secured by a small shrine to one of the six
elements. In the midst of that, I had to have sex with a virgin after
precasting the spells in the shrines. Oy vey!
Seeking
clarification, I sharpened my questions. “What is a
virgin?” A person who has not
experienced vaginal sex with a member of the opposite sex. That also answered the sex question. Blinking, I asked, “Can I count as the virgin
in the ritual?” Yes. Whoa, that was a relief. “How long will the spells
hold in the shrines? Will the hexagram be useful for other rituals?” The
spells will remain active for 12 hours. The hexagram is reusable, but must be
reconsecrated. Whatever that means, I’d rather not read about it now.
Building the shrines would be a major headache, never mind the expense,
and situating a bed in the exact center would be another one. I needed to go
house hunting, but now I had additional requirements. Prudently, I asked what
else would be required in a home location. The answer was very detailed, and
extremely involved. Apparently, building lines, location and materials affected
the natural flows of force, and architecture and geomancy was something every
wizard worthy of the name needed degrees in. The mathematics were also rather
complicated, and impossible to apply without the ability to see the flows. A
pool and basement were mandatory, as was a place exposed to the winds. Feng
Shui, it seemed, was for amateurs. Wonderful.
The book added that the optimum residence could only be constructed by
bound elementals. That was not a realistic option, not anytime soon, especially
as the book of wizardry did not contain any but the most basic binding rituals.
I rescheduled the house hunt. Next week was too soon, as I needed to
master at least the second circle of life, so as to be able to see properly
before deciding. Most real-estate firms keep video of their offerings now, and
I put looking into that on the To Do list for Sunday.
I was getting swamped and I needed to delegate. Unfortunately, most of
the things I needed accomplished could not be done by anyone else.
One thing however, could be. I needed to hunt for books of magic, and
snap up as many as I could find, as quickly as possible… while keeping my location
and existence secret. Not a problem.
The book gave me a long list of titles, and I speed typed them into a
document file. Then I left my Logan Reeves identity, becoming Richard Morgan,
and called in a favor I’d done a co-worker. Ellis Wright had had to take care
of his children when his wife broke an arm and a leg in a traffic accident, and
I’d finished a couple of projects for him.
I sent him the list, and asked that he search the web and everywhere
else he could think of, and send me links to where they might be found. I added
an incentive – each book I managed to acquire would net him a $100. I don’t
like to rely on gratitude alone, and this was something that needed to be done
properly. Ellis was sharp and he’d do a good job with the mercenary prod added.
Richard Morgan was a P.O.B. number, but even so I’d need a cut out. I’d
arranged one a long time ago, a matter of a little blackmail. After I’d started
learning code breaking and hacking, my dad asked me to look into a matter of
credit card fraud against some of his bank’s clients. It was an irresistible
challenge, really.
I found the bastard after four months of hard work, during which I
learned an awful lot. He turned out be a married plus two urchins 26 year old
high school computer teacher named Ramon Andrassy, who’d decided to supplement
his income. My father, meanwhile, had quite forgotten all about it. Perhaps
he’d considered it a joke, at the time. Regardless, instead of turning him in,
I became an anonymous blackmailer.
No, I did not do anything awful. Or really, anything much. I told him to
stop stealing, and consider what he’d stolen a salary from me. Thereafter, I
used him on more than a dozen little things where I didn’t want a finger
pointed at me… just in case, to gain an additional layer of insulation.
Deliberately, I gave him odd and sometimes nonsensical jobs. Not because I
reveled in my power over him – which, admittedly, I did. The purpose was to
keep him confused and defensive, never to allow him a real understanding of what
I was doing.
In this case, he’d carry loads of strange books and blind drop them for
me. I grinned at the thought of his reaction. He probably thought I was
completely nuts, but there was nothing he could do about it. I was extra
careful to remain completely traceless when communicating with Ramon, who
despite his appearance of a big bruiser was really smart. Quite possibly
brilliant. Only discrimination and a police record – a girl had once accused
him of rape – kept him from being a lot more. One reason why I hadn’t turned
him in… I had a certain amount of sympathy for the guy. I was pretty sure he’d
never touched the bitch, and he taught me a lot, in a certain roundabout way.
As a further cutout, I’d ask Jimmy Cray to pick the books up for me. A charter
member of the geek squad, I’d stopped him from getting beaten up merely by
being there, twice that I knew of. Personally, I didn’t think he owed me
anything. Kicking the shit out of bullies was another little hobby of mine, and
while Jimmy may have had all the social graces of a slug, he was a good guy.
But telling him that he didn’t owe me anything when he was quite determined he
did would have been a nasty insult. At least, that’s how I would have felt
about it. That sort of thing tells a person that he’s not important, that his
code of honor isn’t worth shit.
I’m sort of a stickler for courtesy and politeness, and basic respect
for other people is a part of that. I remember Heinlein pointing out that one
of the first signs of upcoming societal collapse is a basic disregard of such
things. I’m not sure I agree – that sort of thing is part of the old fogy
disease, as in ‘everything was so much better in the old days’, his days.
People are people, and it’s only circumstances that change. I wouldn’t go so
far as to call sociology a science, but folk do tend to react in the same way
to similar stimulus. I’m skeptical of skeptics, too.
Accumulating people-resources had become something of a habit for me.
Networking is how the world works, and it’s useful in and of itself. Working on
it helped me avoid becoming a hermit, much like trips to the bookstores and
role-playing meets. Yes, another hobby. In fact, I ran a regular weekly game on
Saturday mornings, and have done so for two years now. We met at one of the
local gaming stores, Paladin, which provided miniatures, battlemaps and use of
a variety of books and gaming aids. I paid for the space myself, and in fact
I’d prepaid and reserved the time for the entirety of next year. I actually had
an RPG dedicated laptop, and one of the gamers usually brought a small printer
and paper.
Lunch with the guys (and the girls) was a Saturday tradition by now, and
sometimes we went right back to gaming after fueling up. At the moment, I was
running a dnd game, Matt, my father’s executive assistant, was storytelling an
Exalted game, and Trina, a history prof at the local community college, was
running an Ars Magica campaign. I was playing in the Exalted one, but there was
no way I could join Trina’s game as well.
With the book search up and running, I had to decide how to spend the
rest of the day. It wasn’t a terribly difficult decision, as I absolutely hated
having things hanging over my head.
After preparing half a dozen sandwiches, a plate of cheeses and fruits and
restocking the minifridge with chilled coke, I went to work on… well, work. I
only managed to finish one of the projects, but the other was well ahead, and
the next morning would do for it. I’d taken half a dozen breaks to practice
spells, learning another first circle energy manipulation spell which created a
localized soft breeze, a prelude to the great storm and wind magics.
I’d had to restock on food no less than three times, and was getting
alarmed. The book assured me that I would eventually be able to improve my
digestion and metabolism, so I won’t have to spend a third of the day stuffing
myself. Without prompting, it added that I had unusually high potential, and
was learning ahead of the curve. It must have caught my feeling of dejection and
borderline despair, and was trying to cheer me up.
I was so exhausted, I fell asleep into a dreamless swoon almost the
moment I hit the bed. It was only when I woke up that I realized that I’d spent
an entire day yesterday, for the first time in years, without getting myself
off even once.
I avoided panicking, but I was extra fast about opening the book. There
is no change in your sexual drive, it assured me. The lack of such needs
is a result of channeling too much magic through a body that is not used to it.
So long as you press the limits of the powers you can use, each and every day,
your energy levels will be very low.
Well, that was reassuring. The fact that I no longer needed to frame a
question to receive an answer showed that the book had perceived my certainty –
I knew it was reading my mind. By now, it probably possessed my entire body of
knowledge. Doubtless, that was how it had managed to ‘update’ itself in 1911.
I spent an hour eating and casting the four spells I’d managed to learn.
I tried to handle food with extra long nails, and it wasn’t too terribly
pleasant. Why did women do such things to themselves? I shook my head, quite
certain that wizardry would not hold any answers for the mysteries inherent in
the female mind. Oh, I might read it one day, and I did wonder how telepathy
felt, but I didn’t think I’d actually understand it.
Other than thirty minutes spent swimming in our backyard pool, the
morning was very dry. I finished the project, and the less said about that the
better. The backdoors I installed were exceedingly hard to find, and always
unique. Otherwise, I’d be handing over all too many keys with each exchange of
information in the hacker community.
My parents had e-mailed pictures from Australia, and I looked through them,
smiling, before drafting a reply. My taps caught the mention of a possible
merger between BiaLabs and Atronyx, and I put the companies on the Watch List,
intensifying the spying. Most of the other bits of data were either long term
or of the non-impact variety, and I shelved work for the day. I’d neglected the
news yesterday with all the excitement, and spent a few minutes catching up.
Many more people were dead all over the world. I tried to conjecture, with the
book’s help, as to which events might have been supernatural in origin. The bus
accident in Ireland, the book indicated, was almost certainly a result of wood
or earth elemental interference. Tour buses don’t usually fall off hills.
After another hearty meal, I started a more organized lesson plan with
the book’s help. I was determined to master the available first circle spells
of transmutation, life and energy mastery by the end of next week. Apparently,
it would be easier to do that than try to climb up the circles of life
directly. There was no possibility of touching upon the circles of mind or
spirit, or learning elemental languages and protocol, without enhancement.
There were certain sounds human throats were not built to utter, certain
gestures and postures the human body could not perform or assume. Unless they
were contortionists or impossibly gifted, that is. I wasn’t that sort of
prodigy.
I went out into the backyard, this time focusing on plants. I
concentrated on a single living leaf, and after several false starts, managed
to slice it in half. Putting it back together would have to wait a while, but
I’d get there too. Learning, visualizing and almost feeling what a leaf was
like was quite awesome. It gave me a sense of calm the frenetic activity of the
last… damn, it was no quite two days since I’d discovered the book. Or since it
had found me. Amazing, how the world can change in an instant. Nope, I
corrected myself, the only change was in me. The world remained the same, with
the changes brought on by time alone. But I was suddenly aware that there was
so much more of it, and the comfortable shape of my future as I’d planned it
out had exploded into a million possibilities. Retirement at eighteen was no
longer something to look forward to – retirement meant failure, death.
I’d focused myself, to a disturbing degree, on making money. I just
hadn’t seen any other purpose that really meant anything to me. I was social
enough, but I was definitely not a people-person. Politics and charity were
really not my thing. I was smart enough, but I’d rather fund research than have
to follow orders and scrap and beg for money and resources. Despite wrestling
with it, I was just too damned proud. I could handle hardware very well indeed,
but I wasn’t truly mechanically or technically inclined. Though I was a
software person, I wasn’t filled with any sort of messianic tendencies there.
I’d always lacked a purpose beyond myself.
And here was a call to crusade. Oh, the book was subtle… but I was no
fool. What I did could matter. Not just touch a few lives, not a name
remembered or written down, but real change. That was as intoxicating as the
possibilities inherent in wizardry. It was nothing less than MAGIC.
Not a fool. So I didn’t expect to part any seas any time soon. There was
time. I needed time. If I survived, I’d make my mark. Of that much, I was
certain.
2
I spent three hours in the garden, alternately relaxing and
spellcasting. I managed to cast another new spell, a first order transmutation
that turned a pebble into rock dust. We had a large backyard, in addition to
the 25 meter roofed pool. The garden was mother’s pride and joy, and she
frequently worked on it herself. We went to a plant nursery every month or so, picking up
some new flowers, shrubs or baby trees. When they returned from a trip abroad,
they usually brought back a statue or a wind chime or something. There were
bright reds and blues blooms, flowering yellows and quite a few thorns. I
couldn’t name a single one of the flowers to save my life.
A single
path around the pool and the house was about all there was to the garden, but
that was quite a lot. The wall was barely visible, covered by a thorny creeper
of some sort. The temptation to slowly and gradually turn one or two of the
more hideous statues to dust, a Ganesha they’d brought from India or a couple
of silly horse heads, was almost overwhelming. Nonetheless, I sternly resisted.
Mom wouldn’t be happy. There was also the danger that too much magic could kill
me.
I found myself almost constantly eating. It was chew and cast, swallow
and chant. This time, I was mostly confining myself to sweets and munchies,
from candied figs and honeyed dates to chocolate chip cookies and Doritos. I
walked in to make a sandwich or five, and noticed the time. On Monday and
Thursday 18:30 sharp, martial arts class. It was Thursday, and I had forty
minutes, which was time enough to prepare and wrap half a dozen cold-cut and
pickle sandwiches.
It might be a waste of food, but I wasn’t going to take any chances on
fainting while driving. I’d also practiced using the flamefinger cantrip to
actually hit moving things – mostly leaves I’d released and let fall. It was
surprisingly effective, burning them to very fine ash that disappeared before
they hit the ground. When I managed to hit anything, that is. At first, I
constantly fumbled the spell, lowering the index finger and nulling it. Later,
I tried to mumble the incantation, to disguise the words of the spell. That
didn’t work too well, but I learned that whispering very quietly did work.
The book informed me that there was little spellflames could not harm,
little other than the denizens of the courts of elemental fire. It also added
that more effective covert casting techniques would be introduced later.
I showered, shaved, sprayed (deodorant) and dressed in a frenzy. I froze
for a moment, trying to think and see if I’d forgotten anything, and couldn’t
come up with anything. Picking up the bag with the sandwiches, towel, spare
clothes and a half frozen bottle of water I’d taken out of the freezer and
filled with mineral water, I ran to the garage.
Then I ran back to my room, and picked up the keys, license and
insurance for the bike, and ran right back. I was packing a pistol, a dinky
little .22, for the first time ever. It felt… strange. I certainly didn’t feel
any more secure. Actually, the pistol wasn’t important. I felt like a rabbit
painted with bright orange neon, with a flagpole up its ass. In hawk city.
Exposed. Vulnerable.
The list of ‘potentially dangerous’ crossed my mind again, and I cycled
through vampire-demons, cloud rays, mantimeres, crystal scorpions and what
little else I managed to recall from the demon and elemental list. I had a
feeling a wizard would at least try to talk, on first sight, rather than just
blasting away. It’s what I would have done when faced with an obvious novice. I
didn’t really understand how I showed up on their radar, which left me even
more insecure.
I thought about calling in sick, but I just couldn’t spend the next
couple of months cocooned at home. Well, actually I probably could have. But I
won’t. Courage, remember? Stupid, possibly, but there it was. I wouldn’t let
all of ‘them’ defeat me before they actually faced me.
Of course, if I did find one of ‘them’, running away seemed like the only
intelligent option. Seeing as bullets had a somewhat limited impact on hostile
critters. I hadn’t forgotten that some demons don’t mind lead pellets traveling
only slightly below the speed of sound. Probably their version of peanuts.
It was only the fact that traffic was rather heavy, and that I was
driving again, that allowed me to concentrate on something other than what
might disembowel me on the next turn. Imagination is not always good for you.
I did vow to minimize the excursions from home. Showing magic or not, I
felt safe there. Stupid, once again. Considering further, I determined that I
needed to find an isolated spot to practice spellcasting. Smarter. Stettin park
had any number of crannies, nooks and little known and visited corners, and barring
wood and earth elementals – I’ll have to ask the book – it would do better than
home for a battleground. Have to remember not to practice in a single place, to
map escape routes, prepare traps (consult book, again), to avoid a predictable
pattern.
A car horn blasting by me came very close to killing me. My heart tried
to leap out of the bone cage, my breathing halted, and only the fact that I was
paralyzed kept me from running off the road.
“Hey, kid, what’s wrong?” detective Karla Rolve was looking at me from
the driver’s seat of a beat up Suzuki. She was not in uniform, and she was one
big black woman. More than a head taller than I am, her tits were humongous,
her arms broader than my thighs. She’d actually babysat me a couple of times,
and she had one raunchy sense of humor. Underneath the tough girl façade, she
was just as tough as she looked. No shrinking violet anywhere around. She was
also as rock solid as she seemed, or at least that was the vibe I’d picked up.
Very fortunately, she did not practice Jiujitsu. The thought of unarmed
combat against her was very unwelcome, the thought of practice not much more
so. She could probably pick me up with one hand. Without any effort.
“God Karla, don’t do that!” I only just stopped myself from screaming at
her. “You almost killed me here. I know you’re a sneaky badass, but not on the
road, woman!”
The roach was grinning. “What’s the matter, sweet? Driving to a funeral?
Your girlfriend dump you?” she mock-commiserated.
“Practice,” I replied, “don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t have time for
one. Didn’t I give you the ‘make money, don’t work’ lecture? When I was, like,
twelve?” I grinned right back.
She laughed loudly, and snorted. “Right, boyo. So that’s why you’re
working so hard you don’t have time to bonk anyone? Oh, thanks for the books.
You know, there’s a meteor shower next month, August 23rd. There’s
an open day at the observatory.”
Karla was, of all things, an astronomy nut. I’d sent her a few hard
science books a couple of months back, and she had the most interesting ideas
concerning worm and hyper space. Totally bonkers, but still interesting. Or
maybe not so crazy. If magic existed, what else might be true?
“Well, darling, conquering the world is hard work. Money alone don’t cut
it. The mastermind I have, it’s the evil I’m working on. Any progress on the
physics degree?” I asked, remembering that I’d given her a reference to a
couple of online colleges she wouldn’t have too much trouble starting on.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ve started… oops, that’s my turn. Bye!” she began her
turn, and I raised my voice, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the
shower, but we’ll see!”
The reaction from the fellow who was standing on the sidewalk just ahead
was utterly hilarious. He looked at her, at me, and actually took a step back
as his face curdled up. Middle aged and wrinkled, hair mostly gone, with that
expression on him… it had me in stitches. Shower, ha!
That bit of fun was enough to keep a smile on my face for the rest of
the short drive to the community center, where the gym we used for a dojo
resided. Ballet class was scheduled just before us, and a small flood of pink,
fluffy, flat-chested girls was departing into a line of cars. If there were any
boys amidst the crowd, I just couldn’t tell them apart. With long hair in
fashion (probably – I didn’t know how to follow trends, even if I wanted to, so
I might not be up to date) they could be hiding there.
Not that I had anything against ballet. I just thanked god… ahem I’d
have to rethink that expression. I was just thankful that my parents hadn’t
gotten around to sending me to ballet class. According to what I’d read,
professional ballet was a nightmare of pain. Of course, that probably had
nothing to do with the junior class, but I wasn’t taking any bets.
This was the advanced martial art class, and there were fifteen of us in
all, plus the instructor. Dan was thirtyish, a former unarmed combat instructor
for the infantry who retained that buzz cut. Tanned, tall, obvious muscles, a
couple of tattoos, with dark hair, penetrating eyes and a sharp voice and
attitude.
None of us were studying for competition, it was purely for self
defense. So we frequently dealt with weapons, but until now they’d always been
cold. Clubs and knives, exclusively. Nobody outside of theater club would go
after you with a sword.
Instead of leaving the .22 in my locker, I unloaded it and dumped the
magazine there. I carried it in obvious-like, holding it by the barrel. I’d
been so concerned with arriving on time, I’d made it several minutes before
almost everyone else.
We had four women and eleven guys including moi, but with summer
vacation seven were AWOL. Jenny and Sara were sisters, 26 and 28 respectively,
and I’m pretty sure Jenny had been raped, and her sister had dragged her into
martial arts practice. Jenny was a nurse, caring for old and disabled people,
while Sara was a lawyer. I think she worked in the City Hall, probably the
legal department. A real cold fish, while her sister was awfully quiet. Both
were gorgeous, athletic looking blondes.
Sara was here with Dan, and so was Frederick Tsivis, an Austrian
immigrant whose accent was much better than Schwarzenegger’s. Fred was a safety
instructor and supervisor, specializing in evacuation and hazardous materials.
Dark haired and pale, he wore old fashioned, enormous glasses that made him
look like an owl. His hair was streaked with gray, and he was probably closing
up on 50. He had the most astonishing treasure trove of impossibly funny
stories about the safety inspections and drills he’d run.
If half of the stories he told were true, disasters could not possibly
be any more dangerous than drills. The one about the bug spray warehouse was
not for the weak of stomach.
“Hey, guys! Brought a training aid,” I lifted the gun. “Isn’t it about
time we graduated to the real stuff?” I looked at Dan. He didn’t look too
happy, so I showed that there wasn’t a bullet anywhere inside.
He gestured, so I handed it over and started on my own warm up. Not that
I needed one, with the day I’d had, but I never tried to argue with Dan. Stone
walls were only slightly more accommodating.
The rest of the gang began to trickle in. Kirk, Doug and Marv (Mickey
the Marvelous) were college students, art, literature and drama, and all three
were gay. Being picked on had proven to be an excellent incentive to learning
how to protect themselves, and they’d gotten very good at it. Marv was a stage
magician, and was pretty slick about it. He was making a living out of
entertaining at kids’ birthday parties and such, like my kid sister’s recent
one. Quite a performance he can put on, too.
Mellanie was black, but she wasn’t Afro-American. She was actually
Ethiopian. Her stepfather had been on some sort of humanitarian mission there,
and married her mother. She was six at the time, and quite frankly I don’t
believe I’ve ever met anyone quite as unabashedly patriotic. A senior at high
school (not my high school), she played volleyball and was only half a head
taller than I am. She was pretty aggressive, possibly too much so.
The last one to straggle in was Harry-call-me-Hank, who’d originally
started on martial arts to lose weight. He was still a big guy, but most of it
was now muscle. Strange, but his face still seemed a bit piggish. Hank was one
of those Harley mad guys, and ran an outfitting store for bikes. He really
didn’t like my bike, but he no longer thought of me as ‘that pussy’. Not since
I took him out three out of three in his trial last year for brown belt. He was
bigger and stronger, but I was faster and more practiced.
The class wasn’t formal, with white gis and belts. We all wore soft
clothing, and took off watches, footwear and jewelry.
Since we were even numbered for once, Dan just paired us off. I ended up
with Sara, who’s a bit smaller than I am, but pure vicious. I didn’t bother
smiling at her, as it would only make her hit harder.
“Kicks and blocks!” Dan barked, and she launched a kick to the middle. I
knew that she’d aim for the crotch, so I started moving early. I stepped aside,
caught her foot, jumped and twisted my whole body, which twisted her leg and
body with me. That left her falling face down on the mat. She body slammed the
mattress, and if it had been a real fight, I’d have landed on her back knees
first, quite possibly destroying a kidney or breaking the spine. As it was, I
managed to catch myself almost upright on foot and knee, and didn’t bother
tapping her out. I let go, and took three steps back, right to the initial
position.
I let her get her breath back, and her face was red. Probably anger.
There wasn’t much room for embarrassment in her narrow universe. The only good
guy was a guy whose balls were mashed up. I didn’t quite understand why Dan
took her on for the advanced class. He habitually kicked the ‘I’m the toughest
motherfucka and I’m gonna learn how to kick everyone’s ass even better then I
already can’ gorillas off the class, and Sara wasn’t much different, in her own
special way.
I feinted high, not with a kick but with a step forward and a shift of
balance, and struck low, aiming for the shin. She missed the block, but managed
to dodge, staggering back off balance. Vicious or not, she was in excellent
shape, very fast and quite skilled.
I’d managed to steal a couple of looks at the others, and no one had
bothered to try for a high kick. They had their moments, but facing an opponent
who’s not only ready, but expecting a kick, it would be suicide – or at least,
ridiculously easy to block.
Sara didn’t try for anything fancy, a straight knee snap. I knocked it
aside with my wrist, and it left a sting. I nodded and waited for her to regain
her balance. That was a good one.
This time I feinted low, and struck for the middle. She fell for it,
hook, line and sinker. I hadn’t stinted on power, and it struck her above the
pelvis, knocking her back and driving all the air out.
Normally, I’d have stepped up and offered a hand. Not with Sara. I just
waited. It took her nearly a minute to get up, and she delayed a bit longer by
playing with her hair, adjusting the ponytail. I had a feeling she wanted to
avoid another exchange.
Which she managed. Dan clapped his hands, the signal to face him. We
formed a semi-circle automatically, and looked at him expectantly.
He held the pistol I’d given him in one hand, a couple of wooden sticks
we used to simulate knives in the other. “Logan brought this toy, and quite
rightly suggested that we should practice for the real stuff. The bad guys will
usually be toting something a bit larger, but this will do for practice. Now, listen
carefully. When facing a gun in open terrain, when you’re not close enough for
a rush, what you do is surrender. Weep, beg, promise heaven and earth, but do
not, I repeat DO NOT rush the bastard. If there’s a chance of cover, take small
measured steps in that direction, preparing to leap, and by god think of
something to distract him. The oldest trick in the book, as TV shows, can work.
Look behind him and smile. Point somewhere, say something, anything you can
think of to get you into rushing distance or cover. Throw a quarter behind him,
Marv.
“Now, rushing a gun is the last resort sort of thing. But you can take a
bullet and live, if you do it smart. If you’re fast, lucky and smart enough,
you’ll avoid that, but it’s unlikely. Dodging bullets is for science fiction.
The best way to take a gun is ambush, and we’ll get to that next week. Today
you’re going to eat a bullet and carry through. You’ll take a fist to the
stomach, and then charge in from two meters. Fast, dirty takedown, so our
daring pistoleers will put on some extra padding. Sara, if you aim for the
crotch, this is your last lesson. Now get to it!” he clapped again, very
loudly.
The next hour was exhausting and very painful. But I thought I had a
better than even chance of surviving that sort of encounter. Especially against
someone armed with a .22, which wasn’t really enough to stop a man… or a woman,
for that matter. The bruises usually faded by the time the next lesson came up.
We were too exhausted to talk, so we just mumbled farewells and made our
way out. I did not forget to load the .22, but was quite sure that I wasn’t
really safe. Driving in the dark with that sort of feeling, and knowing all the
monsters I believed were now looking for me were out there, was not pleasant. A
good thing the lighting was excellent.
Home sweet home. I activated the night security system, stripped and
threw everything in the laundry bag. I locked the pistol in my room, and
hobbled to the hot tub. Half an hour of jets massaging every ache and pleasant
warmth leaching fatigue poisons away, and I was feeling mostly human again.
I covered the tub, did some stretches, and ate a light meal interspersed
with random gouts of fire. Practice, practice, practice. I’d learned a mere
three spells today, but I’d had a lot else on my hands. The only non-wizardly
thing I had to do tomorrow was go over what I’d prepared for the Bluestar
Company, and I had enough material ready for the next five years. All I really
had to do was prepare for the unexpected, as my thespian abilities were
somewhat limited. I really hated to ask for five minutes to think, or a switch.
They always got that gleeful ‘we spiked the DM’ look. Like little kids, really.
I hated that.
Of course, when I was sitting on the other side in Matt’s Exalted game,
it was different. That was the only reason those maniacs were still alive.
Since I felt it on both sides, I was capable of being fair. Mostly. Those
little snickers cost them ever so much treasure.
It was only 22:00, but I was utterly dead. I’m pretty sure I’d replaced
half my molecules today, going by the sheer amount of food I’d been through. I
looked at the fridge and the freezer, and decided that my estimate hadn’t been
too far off. I had enough to last for five, maybe six days.
Yawning like mad, I collapsed on the bed. I didn’t have enough energy to
check the mail, let alone make any replies. It was lights out in an instant.
3
I always wake up instantly, and today was no exception. I’m capable of
waking up and eating a full meal or starting to work five minutes later. My
sister claims that proves I’m a changeling, created solely to torment her. Me,
I kinda doubt the changeling part…
Surprisingly, I felt rather good. I really expected to wake up to
serious pain, but it seems that I was none the worse for wear. Perhaps I was
rebuilding my body so quickly the nerve impulses just couldn’t keep up. If so,
I’d better keep it up.
A couple of minutes later, my eyes had adjusted to the light. First
thing was the toilet, naturally, and I followed that with a glass of orange
juice and some crackers with garlic cheese spread and olives. I wasn’t too
terribly hungry, but breakfast was part of my usual routine, and I knew how
much I was going to need every little bite.
The book agreed that my idea of using the park as a practice area for
spell practice was more prudent, but it put a serious hole in my clever idea.
There was no way I could take all the food I needed to practice seriously.
Actually, I might manage the food, though it would all be cold. But there was
no way I could carry the liquids, and subsisting on the piped water was
something I preferred to avoid.
It mitigated the warning, informing me that it takes years for an aura
to settle about a place, and even with the sheer number of spells I was playing
with, the actual power was quite miniscule. That punctured my pride, but better
pride than hide. Especially with the added warning that the park was likely to
be the heart of the local wood court.
It seems that the earth and fire courts are usually remote, mostly deep
within the earth. Flame tyrants and gem lords did not show up with any great
frequency. The air courts are just as rarefied, though the book warned that
pollution might have driven some sylphs, zephyrs and mistwraiths to madness or
worse. Water courts had much closer connection with people, and little of it
was friendly. The great courts of the oceans were little concerned, seeing
humanity’s wastes as a strictly temporary annoyance, but the freshwater and
coast courts were in many cases twisted by the effluvia.
The closest friend and foe was the court of the wood, sometimes called
the fey court, a misnomer. It was thought to be the most unpredictable, which
was likely to be an erroneous assumption based on sheer amount of interaction.
The book mentioned that even in elder times, there was little contact with the
spirits of air, earth and fire other than bindings. The living things of the
earth belonged to the court of wood, even the domesticated varieties. The book
recommended that I avoid pets, as they formed a weakness in the protections.
Protections? It seems that every true home holds a mystical shield over
its inhabitants, built up over the years. The stories of vampires and
thresholds held some truths, though only magical creatures were affected.
Of the spirit court, the book had nothing to say. It was the most
mysterious of them all and the hardest to reach.
I was determined to master six new first order spells today, and when
twilight fell, I’d managed that much and a bit more. The slicing spell was
coming along easily, and I’d actually managed to grow myself a real beard and
moustache with the growth spell. It made for an excellent disguise, as no one
would believe I was a teenager with something like this. I actually looked
adult. Really grown up. It was interesting. Did I want to keep the beard and/or
moustache? Soon enough, I’d have enough control to freeze the growth, so the
annoyance of having to shave did not figure into the decision at all. I’d have to consider the matter.
Shaving with the slicing spell was quite nerve wracking and awfully slow, but
it did the job, and I learned an awful lot about the epidermis.
The new spells I’d managed to cast were interesting. One allowed me to
chill an area, enough to freeze a small volume of water if I kept it up long
enough. The second created a small amount of illusory mist, and the third
conjured a tiny mote of light I could move about by exerting my will, with
about as much output as a candle. Another was a version of slice that worked on
objects, with sufficient precision to actually sculpt. It was horribly
inefficient, of course, because it affected such a tiny area, but it was quite
useful. With this spell and the one that allowed me to turn inanimate objects
to powder, nothing material could hold me. Assuming, of course, that I had time
and rations enough to cast the spells repeatedly. The fifth spell was the most
minor lifequench spell available, a brute force approach that did not rely on
any knowledge or skill. Slaying three ants was almost enough to kill me. I
actually collapsed after the third casting, and had to rest for several minutes
before I could recollect myself sufficiently to sit and eat.
It was a graphic depiction of just how dangerous I was to myself. Never
mind the slavering hordes of monsters; it was my judgment and actions that
would put me in the most risk. I resolved to be even more careful, and
dismissed the incident. There was nothing else to do. I knew that I was being
silly. That was one promise I almost certainly wouldn’t be able to keep.
Last, but not least, was a minor bit of telekinesis. I moved a droplet
of water all around the kitchen table, and later I used the remains of the
ants. The really tiny ants, not the big ones. I could look up the family, genus
and species, but the taxonomy of ants was a bit below my horizon.
I took a refreshing swim, and then settled out the kinks in the hot tub,
pondering just how cruel I was going to be tomorrow. I reviewed the campaign
material, and wrote up some possibilities for things they might do, after
giving their character sheets a thorough scan. It took less than an hour, and
left me in a bright mood. I didn’t rub my hands together and cackle evilly.
That was for tomorrow.
I felt very awake, so I went through all the spells again. Twice. That
was enough to wipe me out. My jaw muscles were actually sore from chewing so
much, but I was quite cheerful. The book intimated that I might be able to try
one or two of the simpler second circle spells tomorrow evening.
I reviewed the spells I intended to learn next, deciding to postpone
breaking the circle, as the book said that ascending a level of wizardry was
called, to Sunday. What hours I’d have left after gaming would not be enough to
do the attempt justice.
The soft downy sheets were most welcome. I lay on my back for a moment,
luxuriating in the tactile feelings and reviewing things. I made a mental note
to ask if breaking the circle had any specific consequences. I shuddered away
from the thought of having to find a girl and a house in less than a month, and
determined to check and answer the mail before going out tomorrow. Then I
turned over, relaxed, and fell asleep.
Cicada whistles woke me up a few minutes before the usual wake up time.
I stopped using an alarm clock years ago. Invariably, I found myself waking up
a few minutes before it would have gone off, and I’d sometimes forgotten to
switch it off. It was weird, really, but I always woke up when I wanted to, and
I always knew what time it was when I woke up, within five minutes. I used to
make a game of it, guessing the time and checking the clock, and I’d actually
managed to hit the exact second once.
I had an hour and a half before I had to get moving. After toilet, I
chose the traditional breakfast food, milk and cereal, with a big glass of
grape juice.
My e-mail queue was flooded. The junk mail quotient was reaching
critical proportions, so I spent a couple of minutes marking and moving it to
my junkslayer program. It wasn’t any sort of answer, but it was better than
nothing. It didn’t do something silly like sending back a million e-mails per
address. All that would do is increase the traffic and pressure on already busy
architecture, and it would be completely useless, since none of those
computer-generated addresses were in any wise connected to the junkmeisters.
What I did was gather information. Intelligence was the key, in the
military sense of the word. I tried to localize the vile, loathsome maggots,
and I’d always fantasized about sending assassins after them once I had their
physical bodies localized. What I’d actually meant to do was send the law after
them. I licked my lips, tilted my head and CONSIDERED. Nah. Annoyance value,
and even major economic damage, were not reason enough to actually kill them.
Perhaps I could just frighten them, or curse them or something. I’d have to
see.
In any case, they were fiendishly hard to catch, because they moved
around so much. I only had three positives on file, and I decided that avoiding
too much temptation was wise. I consolidated the files, which I’d prepared last
month, and sent them anonymously to the relevant authorities.
I had a couple of e-mail chess games, with a Russian who lived in France
and a Swede. I’ll probably have to resign from both, but I delayed the
decision. There were twenty seven messages from friends that required answers,
and I managed to deal with eight. All the jokes, movies, power point files and
links went straight to the misc/other folder. Maybe I’d get to them one day,
but considering that there were 193 messages marked as unread, I was not too
hopeful.
My parents sent a bunch more pictures, and remarked that it was pretty
hot in the deserts of Australia in the summer. After a brief overload of ideas
as to how to respond to such a silly message, I decided not to. I sent a .jpg
of a baboon scratching his/her ass by way of acknowledgement.
Karla sent me the date and locus for the meteor shower gathering, and I
replied that I’d probably be there. It was the sort of thing you’d do with a
girlfriend, and by then I’d bloody well better have one. I put down a reminder
to ask the book about it. That sort of natural phenomenon probably involved
elementals or demons or power.
Then I
packed up the gaming-dedicated laptop in the gray-black laptop-dedicated
backpack, a very nice present my parents brought back from… I think it was
Romania. I picked a nice pair of pants and a more formal light blue shirt, the
leather Harley jacket Hank lost on a bet last year and picked up the dice bag
and a number of handouts. I could roll things on the computer, but using the
dice was more fun and contributed to the atmosphere. We actually had a roulette
wheel for the dice.
Why dress
more formally? Only one of the gamers was younger. I needed to establish
authority in a non-verbal way, or at least, it helped to look more adult and
polished. Perhaps the cliché of acned, geeky teens as the stereotypical RPGers
was correct, but my group was quite different. Most of them were on the rebound,
as it were. People who’d played in the Eighties or Nineties, and found that
they’d not lost the taste.
This was
the first group I’d actually played with tabletop, so I couldn’t really compare
it to anything else, but these were real pros. I played for a year before
trying to run a game, and you wouldn’t believe how difficult it was at the
start. Expositions and speaking brought up all my fears about speaking in
public. I stuttered a lot. It was a gruesome spectacle.
But I
pulled through, and the experience helped a lot. I was still really bad at
speaking in public, and it never stopped messing me up, but I could handle it
now. With the group, there were no more problems at all.
Paladin is
a two-story shop with a spacious basement in a small shopping center, quite
close to my place. I could have walked there in a quarter hour, easily. I drove
alertly this time, conscious of the fairly insignificant weight of the little
pistol.
I was
early, as usual. Arriving early was something of a fetish of mine. Bill, the
proprietor, looked up at the beep. He’d put up a motion detector that alerted
him whenever anyone came in.
Bill is a
big guy, though he isn’t any taller than I am. What he is, is wide. He’s almost
as wide as he is tall, with an enormous belly. Wisps of a goatee, somewhat
balding, always with a cheerful smile plastered on.
I hate
salespeople, in the abstract. Bill was a salesman without a doubt, but I liked
him. I always thought that salespeople got that likeable aura after selling
their souls to the devil, or whatever was willing to buy at a discount. It left
me very confused, and occasionally burdened with purchases I really should have
thought more about. I have to work on the willpower thing. I wondered if
wizards were immune, and said “Good morning, Bill. The
usual’s ready?”
The usual was a curtained
off room in the back of the first floor, with a generous supply of gaming
materials strewn about. “Hey Logan, you wouldn’t believe what came in today,”
he raised a box, and immediately lowered it. “Oh right, forgot. You don’t
bother to actually pay for computer games,” he grinned, showing a missing
tooth. “Matt and Chris are already in, but Trina called in sick. Or rather, her
daughter’s traveling or something, and she’s stuck babysitting at the last
minute. She said she talked to her people, two or three said they’ll come in to
watch and help you npc things.”
“Wait, let me see what I
can do about it,” I pulled out my cell phone. I don’t give the number to anyone
other than family, as I simply do not want to be disturbed while on the road,
or at all for that matter. I’m an e-mail person, and I don’t particularly like
using the phone. On the other hand, it was vital in case of emergencies… and
useful in cases like this.
“Hey Jack, listen. Your
sister does babysitting, right? Good, could you ask Linda if she can do it here
and now? I’ve got a lady who needs some help. I’ll pay double her normal rate,
and I’d appreciate it if you could help with the wheels. She can? Great!” I
gave him the address and Trina’s full name, and gave her a call.
Needless to say, Trina was
ecstatic. Grading papers and dealing with babies were not what she’d expected
to do Saturday morning and noon, and she quickly went to call up her players.
Jack Kingston went to school with me, and we’d met when the worms we’d put in
the school computer system caused a net meltdown when they met. We’d actually
managed to sit down next to each other in the computer lab, working on fixing
the problem. It was very funny, in retrospect. Linda is one of the
cheerleaders, and not particularly nice to us, but they do need money. Single
parent syndrome. Jack is one of my first choices when it comes to delegating a
piece of programming, which is the only reason he has a car. A very quiet guy,
I couldn’t quite fathom anything about him.
“Smooth, man,” Bill nodded
respectfully, “good thing I haven’t pulled anything out, yet. Take a look at
this book, Logan. Right up your alley,” he shoved a paperback my way. I picked
it up, nodded, and went to our room.
Matt worked for my dad as a
general assistant and busybody, and I knew he was up for promotion sometime in
the next three months. In his late thirties, married plus two, he retained all
of his mane of dark blond hair. A bit taller than me, he didn’t exercise much,
and his armchair paunch showed. Generally easygoing, he made an excellent
storyteller and really knew how to use his voice.
Chris was Christine, his
daughter, a year younger than I am. She had an older brother, but he was
probably nursing his hangover by now. Matt had paid to send him to college,
somewhere far away, or so Chris had dryly informed me a couple of weeks ago.
She is a very pretty redhead, heavily freckled and pale, with green eyes and a
sarcastic, defensive manner.
Looking at her again, I
realized that I really like her. We all had different standards where it came
to beauty. My personal preference was for pale, slim, dark haired girls with
modest curves and blue eyes who were shorter than I am. I’ve learned that
girls, especially teenaged ones, are terribly insecure about their bodies. It’s
strange. If only they knew that guys, in general, just aren’t that terribly
picky.
Chris, while short and
pale, wasn’t anywhere near my physical ideal, as she was quite curvy. But I was
pretty sure we would get along splendidly, and I was definitely going to ask
her out.
“Morning, Chris, Matt. Need
a hand with anything?” I asked them as I put down my stuff.
“Nope, thanks, I’m all set
up,” Matt replied. It was traditional that we began with whoever got there
first, so Matt was first on line.
“What’s that book?” Chris
asked.
I looked at the book, and
offered it to her. “Another dnd offering. They generally make for extremely
light reading,” I shrugged, pulled out a seat, and put my character sheet face
down before it. Chris started to read the book while I set up my own game
master’s corner of the table.
Not counting Trina’s group,
there were eleven of us, which made it a bit awkward for Exalted, a game that
was basically designed for five or so players. With the summer vacation, there
were only seven players left in our group.
Veronica Arleigh, a
marriage counselor and general psycho, played our assassin of Night, the dark
skinned lethal shadow from the southern city of Gem, Yanthra.
Ronald ‘Dork’ Urlington, an
architect, is our fearless smiter of evil and all dark things, the bumbling
Zenith priest Arkoto from the chaos of the river province in the east.
Kevin Urnherd is a lawyer
who’d gone to college with mother. She always referred to him as scumbag, with
a smile. He played our intellectual voice, one of the arrows of heaven, the
twilight sorcerer Iyridal the Uplifted, a bookish fellow who’d managed to leave
the Realm of the Dragonblooded, the terrestrial exalted who hunted down the newly
risen solar exalted, just in time.
David Brinks is a fireman.
I’m not sure how their ranks go, but he’s a chief or officer or something. He’s
playing a changing moon lunar exalted, one of the tricksters. We’d saved Urial
the Fox from death at the hand of an enraged elemental dragon, and he’d pledged
his service.
Jon Kray owns a jewelry
store, Glitter, in the nearby mall. He joined us a couple of months ago, after
a painful divorce, on Veronica’s invitation. He was no longer feeling his way
back into things, and his enthusiasm was sometimes dangerous. He’d chosen to
play one of the lost eggs of the dragonblooded, an air aspected sorcerer named
Phenar Godblight, and we’d helped him with a spiritual problem, quite
literally. Matt had to nudge the rules a bit, to make sure his character stayed
more or less on par with the solars.
Chris had
uncharacteristically picked the most difficult caste to play, in my opinion,
the Eclipse diplomat, they of the smooth tongue and mastery of graces large and
small. Rentara was from the north, from the spirit-ruled city of Whitewall.
My character, Neelar
Graycloak was a Dawn warrior-general, a former officer with the seventh legion
of Lookshy. Exalted played to the anima style, with a nod in the direction of
martial arts movies.
We’d settled down at the
table, and Matt began, “Now, as I’m sure you all remember,” we all smiled, “You
attacked the fair folk who ambushed Ulito Swan at Garvon gorge, and drove the
cataphracts and hobgoblins off. She was gravely injured, and fell into an
enchanted sleep. The orderly flame researchers tracked things back to the last
of the Rainbringers, Hirakuto Haijamo, and sent you to fetch the egg of Nogh,
to fix Ulito right back. They even loaned you the silver pin of jade and fury,”
he nodded at me. “You raided the immaculate temple at Kaitrin, north of
Paragon, for information. You learned that the Storm Mother Krintika has the
egg, but facing her directly might be counterproductive, since your learned
researcher,” he nodded at Kevin, “tells you that she enjoys the favor of the
goddess of the deep grottoes and the elemental dragon of water who rules the
sea southeast of the Realm. Rentara told you that you really needed an edge in
that sort of bargain. Unfortunately, an open attack by anathema on an
immaculate temple near Paragon brought the wyld hunt down right on your heads.
A mysterious exalted which you recognized as one of the servants of the
maidens, the old advisors of the Solar Deliberative, saved your sorry asses,
and suggested that you retrieve the molten trident of Hanithryn, which makes
water elementals cringe and cower. He directed you to the crypt of broken
shadows at Multhryn, a town north of Sijan. Traveling there, you managed to
piss off the deathknight Prince of Shadows, when you shattered an attack of
nemissaries and sundry undead on the supply caravan headed for the Marukani
redoubt. The survivors recognized Neelar, which might affect Lookshy opinion of
anath… solars. So, you’ve reached the crypt. There are nemissaries and deathknights
on your backtrail, and you just shattered a bone lion. Roll perception plus
lore and intelligence plus occult, difficulties four and five.”
The sound of dice
clattering was loud. “Got it!” Kevin exclaimed.
“Amazing,” Matt shook his
head. “While the thick stone door which leads down into the darkness of the
crypt is shattered, the gems and inlay of precious metals that once adorned it
gone, there are shadowed markings of first age glyphs. They issue a stern
warning to graverobbers – there’s a scarab guardian here.”
“Scarab guardian?” Chris
asked, and everyone looked at me. If it’s in any of the books, I usually
remember it.
“Beetle swarm, can join
together to form one big nasty, tireless tracker,” I responded.
“Let’s prepare a trap
outside,” David suggested immediately, “dig a pit and add some of that firedust
we bought from the desert nomads. Maybe even a lot of the dust, cover it, and
fricassee the beetaloid,” he added. For a fireman, David had an unholy fondness
for roasting bad guys.
“Yanthra, Urial, take point
and check for traps. Arkoto, take the rear guard. If the undead come up, you’re
the one who can deal with them. I’ll be 10 yards behind point, then Iyridal,
Rentara and Godblight. Phenar, can we leave your little familiar (a winged monkey)
outside? Will he be able to follow us in and report?”
“Charisma plus social,
difficulty three,” Matt added, and dice rolled again.
“Ok, we’re going in.”
It all worked out in the
end. The traps were handled, treasure retrieved, and the scarab guardian turned
on the deathknight and nemissaries once we threw the goods at them. Neelar’s
borrowed sword, the silver pin of jade and fury, threw Sorrowful Blight of Gray
Darkness back into the underworld, and the fire and pit trap mostly worked.
Kennard, one of Trina’s players, had stepped in to play the deathknight.
Yanthra insisted on giving
the crypt another thorough search, with substantial dividends. A hidden room
held a small collection of books, of which only five had survived the passage
of time. Knowledge of the first age and new spells were better than coins.
After assigning experience,
we munched on the honeycake Trina had brought in thanks for providing the
babysitter, talked back on what we should have done, and I asked Chris, “So,
what are you doing with all the wonderful vacation time? No tanning on the
beach, right?” I smiled at her.
“Not hardly,” she snorted.
Last year she’d gotten burned, skin peeling off for a week. “I’m working more
time, selling perfume and cosmetics at Lady Claire’s. I’m… wait, wait a minute.
You never just ask something. There’s always a purpose. You…” she stared at me,
green eyes wide, mouth open. Her cheeks were flushing. On her, it looked very
good.
“Goodness. Beautiful and
smart,” everyone was looking at us, stifling smiles. Damn, I was doing this in
front of her father. But there was no going back. If only I had some bloody
useful magic.
“Was there something you
wanted to ask Chris?” Matt asked me in a deliberately unassuming tone of voice.
The dirty rotten evil rat bastard.
“So there was,” I managed
not to grit my teeth and moan in anguish. Dammit, the only thing I could think
of was that meteor shower, and it was almost a month away. “Chris, my dear, are
you free Monday evening? I’d love to take you to dinner. And yes,” I smiled at
her, ignoring everyone else and the sounds they were making, “I’m asking you
out.”
She dropped her eyes and
slid them sideways, looking at her father. His countenance was perfectly bland.
Keeping the smile pasted on my face was more draining than killing an ant. With
first circle life magic, that is.
“Sure,” she said softly,
cheeks flaming, and slid the sheet of paper that held her character information
up to shield herself.
I exhaled the breath I
hadn’t realized I’d been holding inside, and raised the laptop’s screen, my own
shield.
The dnd campaign I was
running was born two years ago, and a double dozen characters had come and
gone. The adventurers were now very powerful, and of course, in serious
trouble.
Chris was playing an elven
rogue, thief and general troublemaker, Katrina, while her father was playing a
cleric of the sun god, Vard Holloran. David, unsurprisingly, was using a
pyromaniac sorcerer he called Blaze. Kevin played a gnome illusionist, Rekriz,
Veronica an elven archer, Gloriana, while Jon and Ronald were the tanks, a
dwarven defender and a human barbarian, Korug Earthshaker and Brulg,
respectively. Brulg, so called because that was the sound he’d made when I
asked him what the character’s name was. Ronald was drinking a hot cup of
coffee at the time, and you can still see the stains on the carpet.
“Now, as I’m sure you all
remember,” they laughed as I quoted Matt, “you’re all dying. The best estimate
of the time you have left is ninety days. That’s what happens when you annoy
demon lords with clever repartee and say no when they ever so politely ask for
your souls. You called in debts with wizards and alchemists, and managed to
slow the progress of the soul poison, but there’s only so much sand in the
hourglass. The fountain of life in Tanelorn is your only hope. But finding the
City of Peace is a fool’s dream. Fortunately…” I smiled at them, widely, to the
accompaniment of groans.
“There are many legends of
the true way to Tanelorn, and you’ve been collecting books in a frenzy and
annoying every sage and diviner you can find. The most recent journey was
beneath the waves, to the lair of a kraken. Victory at last, but Blurg tried to
open a chest. The whirlpool deposited you in a dank, dark dungeon corridor. Korug
can tell that you are half a mile beneath the surface. You already have a list
of the contents of the chest, as Kat disarmed the traps and opened the lock. So
then, whither do you go?”
“Teleport away?” Kevin
asked hesitantly, “I’ve got a scroll.”
“Me want smash,” Ronald
responded.
“Blurg has a point. Two
points, actually,” Matt added. “There’s doubtless something interesting here,
and we’re in fairly good shape. Also, I’ll bet ten thousand gold the spell will
fizzle. Any takers?”
There were no suckers, and
Chris rolled a die, “Even up, odd down. From my orientation,” she added.
“Straight?” Jon asked,
eliciting a few smiles and glares.
“Up it is,” Chris said,
“I’m moving slowly, carefully, watching and listening. Of course, I’m
spiderwalking on the ceiling,” she added.
“Brulg follow,” was Ron’s
contribution, “and I’m following right behind, ready to grab him before he
plummets into the pit,” Jon added.
Marching order decided, the
Bluestar company proceeded to tear their way through a colony of deepbears,
ignore the altarstone that functioned as a gate to a place they really needed
to go, retreated from the terrible stench of a troglodyte encampment and
survived an ambush of mind flayers. They used a bit of diplomacy and
translation magic to ally with a strange bipedal birdman, who led them through
a maze of illusion against an ancient lich imbued with the power of earth. They
couldn’t find the lich’s phylactery, but recovered an old library that
contained a number of clues. Next time, they vowed, they’d check the other
side.
4
We packed our things, and I
broke up the modular tiles I’d used to map out the dungeon on the table. We
returned those, and everything else we’d used, to its place.
There was a steakhouse
nearby, and that’s where we usually ate lunch on Saturdays. The food was
excellent, the portions generous and the help was polite. Mostly college kids,
rather than high school brats. Thinking of my calling them ‘kids’, at my
venerable age of sixteen, brought a brief smile to my face.
Everyone noticed how quiet
I was. They were chattering away at each other, the usual catching up, in which
I normally participated. Chris was also quiet, and I noticed her stealing
glances at me. It was sweet, really.
But I wasn’t brooding over
Chris. I was thinking of what she’d said. She might have been just fifteen, but
I was the last person to look down upon mere youth. That redhead was certainly
perceptive. I’d noticed it over the year and something since her father brought
her into the group. She didn’t miss much. Unlike me… if she really had a crush
on me, I’d been completely clueless. That was a very bad sign, but it wouldn’t
surprise me. I was generally clueless where anything female was concerned.
It wasn’t that lack of
perception that had me thinking so hard. It was what she’d said – ‘You never
just ask something. There’s always a purpose.’
Was it true? Did Chris have
it right? I knew I was selfish. Hell, in many cases I made deliberately selfish
choices. Essentially, it was mostly true. I did not like small talk. I didn’t…
perhaps I was misconstruing her intent.
I went through the meal
like an automaton.
“Mr. Reeves,” someone said.
“Logan!” I looked up. Everyone was laughing, and even Chris was grinning
widely.
“Hey! Nobody calls me
mister outside of class,” I said, and felt even sillier.
“Do you have an extra
helmet?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” I replied, puzzled,
“always”.
“Good,” he smiled suddenly,
“you and Chris need to talk. Bring her home later. And drive carefully. Go on
you two,” he waved, “shoo. A good thing I know you’re not the suicidal type,”
he added, which translated as ‘don’t you even think about harming a hair on her
head’.
Chris, mortified and very
red, kicked him in the shin and ran off. I nodded and ran after her.
She didn’t run very far.
She just stood in front of a clothing store’s display staring into the glass,
hugging herself.
I touched her lightly on
the shoulder and said, “Ice cream?”
She swiveled, stared at me
wild eyed and grunted, “Huh?”
“Hindeed. Ice cream. My
treat,” I pointed at the counter, five meters away. “What’s your favorite
flavor?”
“Oh,” she breathed out
sharply, doing interesting things to her chest. “I like cherry,” she licked her
lips suggestively. Or maybe I was imagining things. Her face had regained its
liveliness, and she was smiling. So whatever she was so angry or conflicted
about, it probably had little or nothing to do with me.
“I favor lemon, myself,” I
took her by the arm and led her over
to the counter, and we picked our cones. I left a
twenty, waving away the change.
“You know,” she giggled
suddenly, “who’s going to pay for the meal over there?” she pointed at the
steakhouse, “it always goes on your credit card. They’ll end up bickering for
hours, each one trying to pick up the tab,” she laughed, and I joined her. I
tried not to laugh out loud too much. I usually sounded like a braying donkey,
and Lee for one never failed to remark on it. I’d actually practiced laughing
in private. Now that was really pathetic, though it did work – when I remembered
to do it right.
But she was right, and the
thought was amusing. I’d never had to be cheap about the little things, and
since I had my own money now, and lots of it, it was probably even more
pronounced. When I was present, I usually picked up the tab.
We sat and ate our ice
cream, nibbled, licked and bit in comfortable silence, exchanging looks.
“You were thinking,” she
broke the ice. “We could all see the cogs turning and twisting. I could almost
hear them spinning. Care to talk about it?” she asked carefully.
“Yes. In fact, that’s what
I wanted to do, talk about it with you. It’s about what you said, remember?” I
asked.
She blinked in confusion,
“What I said? What do you mean?”
“You never just ask
something. There’s always a purpose,” I repeated, trying to mimic her voice and
failing miserably. “What did you mean by that?”
“I… uh,” she bit her lip
and stopped to think for a moment. “I meant exactly what I said, literally.
It’s like… you exude purpose. Everything you do is so… so precise. Not machine-like,
that’s not what I mean, but, well, I think you could call it ‘sharp’. There’s
an edge, and it never goes away. People notice. You’re always on, well, unless
you’re thinking deep thoughts,” she giggled nervously. “You’re so perfectly
proper, it’s like you ingested the ‘guide to polite society’. The way you talk,
it’s like something out of a book. You use words nobody else does. I mean, did
you hear what you said to that poor guy at the counter when you asked for ice
cream? ‘I’d like to purchase a pair of cones,’ for god’s sake. I mean, really
Logan, who the fuck uses the word ‘purchase’?”
She stared at me for a
moment. “The guy looked lost for a moment. He just didn’t understand you.
You’re like a sixty year old sometimes, not sixteen. It’s frightening. You’re
almost alien.”
“Do I frighten you?” I
asked, with the same measure of care she had earlier, when she’d questioned me
about my ‘deep thoughts’.
“No, not really. I mean,
not unless I was standing between you and something you really wanted,” she
laughed nervously and reddened. “I mean, look, I’ve known you for more than a
year. You’re always the supreme hero. Your characters, I’m not sure if you
noticed, have nothing evil or really negative about them, and they’re always
willing to stand up for their convictions, kill and die for them. You’re like,
so upright,” she raised an eyebrow, asking if I got it.
She was right, but it
wasn’t something that came about accidentally. It was a conscious choice.
I returned a nod. “Yes, I
see what you mean. But what about you, what do you think and feel about this? I
mean, I asked you out because I was thinking of girls, and I noticed all of a
sudden that there was a pretty girl I could talk to about something other than
the weather right there, someone I liked. With me, decision and action go hand
in hand. If you’re not interested in an alien… you know the old saying?”
“What’s that?” she jumped
on the question, “what old saying?”
“A woman marries a man and expects to
change him, a man marries a woman and expects her to never change. I don’t
think I’ll be changing any time soon, not in any way you’d consider ‘normal’.
Do you see?” I said softly.
“See? What are you trying to say? Marriage?” she
seemed confused.
“I’m giving you an opportunity to bow out,” I
explained. “I’m interested in you, and if you don’t feel the same, you really
don’t have to waste Monday evening. I understand that with everyone there, you
were under a lot of pressure.”
Boy, but was I smooth. At least I didn’t mention that
the pressure was all her fault… which it probably wasn’t.
“No! That’s not what I
meant,” she stumbled over the words, “you’re not weird in any sort of bad way.
The guys at school are like…, well, you know. Assholes. Do you have any idea
what sort of compliment is an ‘I like you’ from you? That you think I’m smart?
Even dad looks at you as something special. I mean, he works for your dad, and
I’ve heard more out of him about you than about Alex. Asking me out, you’ve
just made his bloody year!” she exclaimed.
“And that is exactly what I
meant when I said pressure. I’m not trying to date your father,” I smiled, “and
you forgot the beautiful part.”
“Yeah, right,” she frowned,
“beautiful. I’m fatter than Miss Piggy,” she spat out.
“More like a cow,” I
deadpanned, looked very deliberately at her tits, “I mean, you’d give Bill some
serious competition in the weight department.”
Her eyes went really wide
and her mouth opened yet wider. “Why you…”
I ducked aside, dodging the
remnants of the cone. I was splattered with a few droplets of cherry juice, but
I’d survive. The shirt might not.
“Just kidding! Mercy!” I
clasped my arms around my head to protect it, “Just trying to be agreeable!
Less alien, more asshole…” I peeked from between my arms, and while she hadn’t
tried to hit me or throw anything else, she was frowning quite darkly.
Obviously, jokes about her weight were not welcome. I really should have
figured that out on my own. I’d managed to mess things up, as usual.
I let my arms down, and
looked at her. “I’d like to apologize, and I promise that I’ll never joke about
your weight again. I do, however, wish to offer you a bet – and please believe,
I’m perfectly serious. Will you listen and think about it, seriously?”
Her frown deepened. I enjoy
betting, and I always bet on sure things. I’m pretty sure she’d noticed that I
never lost a bet.
“I’ll listen,” she pursed
her lips and leaned back, obviously distancing herself.
“What would you consider
your ideal weight? What do you want to weigh?”
I couldn’t believe the number
she gave me. Did she want to die? What bitch was digging sharpened heels into
her back, tormenting her about her weight? She wasn’t anywhere near fat.
“Impossible,” I spat out.
“If you were a meter thirty tall, that would make you thin. For… how tall are
you, exactly?”
She started at the ferocity
of my response, and replied without thinking, “One sixty four. So tell me, oh
learned one, what is my ideal weight?”
I pulled out the laptop,
and checked for a connection. Goodness praise, there was a net to connect to.
She was laughing, low rippling sounds of amusement, which was ever so much
better. Even if she was laughing at me.
The first five sites I
found were all in inches, lbs. and feet, so I went to onlineconversion.com, and
we had to measure the elbow breadth to learn that she was medium frame. She was
ticklish, so it left her giggling. All the better.
The ideal number we finally
came up with left her stunned. I made sure to avoid mentioning that ‘ideal’ was
a misnomer, conveniently tacked on to a table that dealt with mortality rates
and originated with life insurance companies… so they really weren’t relevant
for teens.
“So, you’re three pounds
overweight. Woe is me,” I mock-commiserated. “You poor thing, destined to drown
in rolls of fat. Oh, sorry. Here I am, already breaking my promise,” she
elbowed me, and I grunted softly.
“Seriously, just tell me
who the bitch who has been driving you nuts about imaginary fat is, and I’ll
off her,” I looked into her eyes.
She was obviously nervous,
probably because she realized that I was mostly serious. She looked away,
hemmed and hawed, and wouldn’t say.
“My dear Christine, you are
not in any wise overweight. You are curvy, soft,” I drew a finger over her
collarbone, and she sighed in response, “and magnificently well endowed. The
bitch is flat, isn’t she?”
She was obviously
surprised.
“Sweet, please rewrite
history. She or they are simply jealous. That is all there is to it. Not to
mention pure mean. Are you halfway convinced?”
“I don’t know,” she quirked
a lip. “What did you want to bet? What was that all about?”
“Ah, never mind,” it was my
turn to look away.
“Sex, huh?” she was really
smiling now, so happy that I couldn’t help but smile back and concede.
“Yep. I wanted to have my
way with you. I may be alien, but I’m still male. And that’s absolutely all I’m
going to say about it.”
She tried to tease it out
of me for another five minutes, but eventually realized that I just wasn’t
going to tell her.
“You never did answer my
question,” I said to fill in a moment of awkward silence.
“Question? What question?”
“I’m not interested in
dating your father, remember. Now that there isn’t an audience smiling and
whispering around us…” I raised my brows.
“Idiot, what do you think
this is, if not a date?” she tried to kick me in the shin, but I was so used to
people trying that kind of thing that I automatically dodged. Reading that sort
of body language came naturally after years of practice, and she wasn’t very
good about not telegraphing her moves.
“Ah uh, no violence. I
don’t know, really. You tell me?”
She moued and shook her
head, probably at my intractable stupidity. “Think of it as a pre-date
simulation, okay? And yes, I wanted to go out with you. I was just so, well,
astonished. I mean, it’s like I was off your radar screen or something. I
wouldn’t have said yes if it was just my dad, you know. It’s just, you could
have anyone, I mean you’re so confident. Is it just a façade?”
“No, not really Chris. I am
confident. I don’t know about the ‘could have anyone’, but with enough effort,
I’m sure I could get somewhere with most anyone. Female, that is, of breeding
age,” I ignored the LOOK that earned me, “my problem was always that I didn’t
have anyone I was interested in. I mean, you look at guys? On the street?”
“Well,” she lowered her
eyes, “I suppose so. Sometimes,” she shrugged.
“And do you crave heart to
heart talks and wild sex with all the studly ones?”
“No!” her head flew up, and
she gave me that look you direct at a particularly colourful toad, just after
it farts.
“Same thing here. I mean,
compared to other guys, I’m walking around half blind. When I walk around with
friends, they’re constantly whistling, talking about that great looking babe,
and ‘wouldn’t mind doing her’, you know,” I smiled weakly.
“Right,” she gave that word
her best schoolmarmish impression.
“Well, I don’t notice. It’s
like something’s missing there. Oh, girls I see constantly, I do notice. But
it’s still a distant regard, like appreciating things in a museum. I have all
the normal urges, but I feel so distant. I can’t really explain.”
“And I’m different,” she
stated/asked.
“Yes. Which I only noticed
today, or I’d have asked you out last year, I’m sure.”
“I remember everyone
teasing you about lacking a girlfriend, and you always said you just didn’t
have the time for one,” she seemed skeptical.
“Oh, sometimes that was
true, but you know, for the important things you can always make time. Mostly,
there just wasn’t anyone I wanted to spend time with. I can do the social
dance, but it’s an effort and I don’t particularly enjoy it. Do you see?”
“Em, not really. I mean,”
Chris tilted her head, “I actually like talking with people, especially my
girlfriends. I suppose you’ll say that’s typical of a girl?”
“Well, I’m sure there are
females who would rather not talk, but they’re a rare breed indeed,” I raised
my hands to hold off another attack. “I could never understand talk for the
sake of talk.”
“That’s that focused part
of you, you’re always after something and working on it,” she snorted, “so
terribly intense. But there is something different about you today, you know.
It’s like some pressure has gone off. But you seem even more focused. Is
something up?”
I couldn’t help but start
in surprise. Damn, but she must have been watching me very closely for the last
year. Or she was a wizard herself.
“Well, yes, you can say
that. I’ll tell you all about it,” I said, not quite sure if I was telling her
the truth, “but not now. You know, you’re awfully perceptive.”
“No really,” she demurred,
“you’re just not very good about lying, unless you’re concentrating on it. I
don’t think it comes naturally to you. Which, I suppose, is a good thing.”
“Does it show? I mean, when
I’m concentrating on a lie?” I asked, suddenly worried. I was generally
truthful, as telling the truth was the easiest way to lie, but when I did
resort to outright deception I tried very hard to make it impenetrable – unless
I wanted someone to see through it.
“No, no,” she reassured me,
“you always concentrate on what you say, so it’s impossible to distinguish. I
really liked the way you made Veronica to change glass frames. Though
convincing her that she looked myopic that way wasn’t very nice. At least the
frames you picked were stylish. What was that bet all about, anyway?”
“Oh, Jon was going on about
how difficult it is to deceive the psychos, how perceptive they are, how kind
and nice… it was nauseating. Mom’s birthday was coming up, so I thought I’d
shut him up and pick her a nice present, something sparkly from Glitter.”
“You know, that’s
disgusting,” she was trying to give me a hard look, but couldn’t quite manage
it. “So I’ll be getting lots of sparklies?” she batted her lashes, trying the
seductress look on. It really didn’t suit her… she looked liked an innocent
schoolgirl that she probably was, screwing her face in a silly manner.
“So, I should have known.
You’re more interested in my pocket.”
She looked stricken. “No,
I… I just…”
“Hey relax,” I caught her
right hand in both of mine, cradling and massaging it.
I started to play with her
fingers, which was oddly… nice.
“I can smell a gold-digger
a mile off, and I know you’re not one. Remember, I asked you… without any
prompting. Though if you were interested, you really should have given me a
kick a few months ago…” I looked at her in question.
She blushed, and looked
away. “I just couldn’t. And don’t start on me with societal norms and bullshit.
Remember, whenever we met my dad was there? Always?”
So that answered that
question. Whoa, some subtlety at last. So she’s had a crush on me for quite
some time. I was careful, however, not to relax further. Chris NOTICED things,
and that could get awkward.
I may have only started
paying attention today, or as she said, she’d just come up on my radar screen,
but I was in desperate need of allies of another sort. I really needed the
basic wizard sight spell, to see whom I might be able to recruit. Chris would
be perfect.
A secret of that sort has a
terrible weight. People are built as gossip machines. Without someone to talk
to about things, the pressure builds. As far as it went, I mostly trusted her,
or rather, just couldn’t see a reason for her to betray me, if she was another
student wizard. She’d be in exactly the same boat. Now just pray… no, hope,
that she had the potential.
“Hey,” she touched a finger
to my head, “you’re thinking again. What’s up?”
“Part of that thing I’ll
tell you about later,” I answered, and this time I believed and hoped that I
was telling the truth, “it will be a major surprise, I promise. Now, why don’t
we start walking around, windowshopping? This place is getting a mite crowded.”
It wasn’t really, but a
woman with three noisy kids was two tables away, and there was a couple sitting
close enough to overhear whatever we did not whisper to each other.
Chris proved amenable, and
we spent half an hour walking about, hand in hand, commenting about the
merchandise we saw in the nasty, sarcastic manner teenagers have. I laughed
more than I had the entire week. Possibly month.
We even managed to buy
stuff. I got her a nifty pair of sunglasses and a hat, and she insisted that I
looked ever so cute with a bandanna on, so naturally I had to purchase it.
The bike ride over to her
place was interesting. The only one I’d ever had ride behind me was Lee, and
she’d been something of a stiff about it. Chris put her hands around me,
perhaps applying a bit more pressure than she needed to. It might well have
been the first time she’d ever climbed a bike. She was very closely pressed against
me, and her tits made for an interesting feel.
Matt, Christine and the
other Felvers live in an apartment tower much closer to the business heart of
the city, a drive of nearly forty minutes, even with little traffic. Which
means that I had a lot of time to think of things, if little incentive to do
so.
I wished her luck and
kissed her on the tip of her nose, and we determined that I’d pick her up
Monday 19:00. I watched the door swing closed behind her, and drove back home.
5
I was still smiling and
thinking of Chris when I drove into the garage. Maybe my luck with girls was
changing? Shifting focus was surprisingly difficult, but I managed to wipe the
smile away and put further thoughts of my now favorite redhead on backburner.
I needed to learn a great
deal more. Had the book been evasive? It certainly seemed likely. There were
large holes in the information I’d received. I’d just finished securing the
trike in the garage, and it was there. It had probably felt me mentally
shouting for it.
What is the ratio of
archwizard to wizard? I asked mentally. How do they relate to each other? Am I
in any way unusual for a potential archwizard? How many books of wizardry are
there? What happened to your last student? How may archwizards exist, and how can
I find them? What polices archwizards? Questions and more questions ran through
my mind.
This
book of wizardry was created 7,203 years ago in the laboratories of the
Archimagical College. The college still exists, though there are no directions
leading there herein, nor spells that would permit such approach. Seven
archwizards voluntarily bound themselves to protect it, and they and their
books now reside there, in stasis. They may not leave the college, but their
powers there are magnified sufficiently to assure safety. They are likely to
welcome your presence and aid you, as that is part of their original purpose,
to restore and uphold the Conclave.
I did not fail to notice the ‘likely’. There were too few
guarantees in this business.
It
is widely thought that the elemental courts hold at least a few archwizards
captive. The archwizardess Kylavria Verthular Amandine Terstar is the keystone
for the lock on one of the planar warps demons once used to invade Earth in the
War of Shattering, and she still lives. She may be found beneath the northern
ice cap. Exact co-ordinates will not be offered at this moment. There are no
others.
The
last archwizard to utilize this book was Demarthos Alkavrin Kelletar, who
perished in battle in 1911 in the Alps. He was facing storm giants, earth
drakes and a fane of ice. They caught him at a disadvantage, as he was severely
weakened after defeating a demon invasion that erupted following the corruption
of an earth cyst by diabolists. He was 296 years old at the time.
An
earth cyst is a power center where at least three pure elemental deposits meet
at high pressure, never forming less than a kilometer beneath the surface.
Diabolists
is the general name by which demon worshipping cultists are known.
There
were never many of your potential. The Conclave at its height held only 819 of
the immortals.
All
archwizard potentials are cerebral persons. The personality types differ. Those
who never realize their potential are generally divorced from humanity and
unfeeling. They are prone to depression and recklessness. These rarely live
beyond 200 and were derisively known as the ‘suicide squad’.
Others
are boisterous and outgoing, hiding their difference by wallowing in
sensuality, art or creative endeavors, and generally represent the face of the
Conclave. They were called ‘hedonists’.
You
represent the most common and numerous variety, with at least a modicum of
attachment to humanity and a focus and dedication that are unsurpassed. The
type of focus varies widely, with the most common centering on magical research
and defense of the Earth. These were the leaders and fingers of the Conclave,
and were known as ‘maniacs’ for their obsessive, suspicious and uncompromising
nature. Should you meet another such as yourself, make it a priority to
ascertain their focus. Should such prove complementary with yours, you will
find co-operation to be almost instinctive and achieve gestalt with ease.
Maniac teams are the sole reason humanity exists today.
In
the unlikely event that you locate a person with archwizard potential, you will
be instructed on the means of creating a copy of this book. You may not
otherwise instruct them, as this book is a template key to an archwizard’s
potential. If anything less might suffice, it remains lost with the gods.
There
is no documented correlation between the number of wizards and archwizards. In
the days of the Conclave, each archwizard kept between 500 and 10,000 wizards.
500 were the minimum number allowed, and few were interested in maintaining a ‘stable’
larger than 10,000.
There
are legends of terrible conflicts between wizards and their masters in ancient
times. From that age grew the power of the Conclave of Archwizards and the Grim
Panoply of Salubrious Resolve and Arcane Might, which forced each and every
wizard to swear allegiance and eternal loyalty to a single archwizard, and
prevented the archwizards from coming into conflict or betraying the Earth.
This book contains no more information on the subject. It is likely that no
further information is available outside the archives of the Archimagical
College itself.
You
may make this book available to any person with the potential for wizardry or
teach them yourself, and all such will be bound to you for life and beyond. A
wizard’s loyalty may not be influenced by any means, and though they may be
deceived into acting against your orders, plans or well being, they are
incapable of dealing you direct harm.
Do
not take this to mean that every wizard you meet will be your disciple. The
lost archwizards trained many wizards, and these passed their lore on. If there
remain any means of gaining the loyalty of practicing wizards, they are most
likely hidden in the college.
The
binding will not change the basic nature of the disciple, but your actions may
adjust their responses and slowly shape them to your will. Complete information
will be made available before the first binding, which is formalized upon
sexual union and the rituals of the third circle of life. Prior to that, your
students will be loyal and accommodating, but not obedient or perfectly
resistant to persuasions, nor will you be immune to their assaults.
The
only leash on archwizards is the book of wizardry itself. No archwizard may act
against the Earth or humanity, nor may archwizards come into conflict. Only one
of the gods ever attempted to circumvent this protection, and she was not
successful.
If
you proceed with the determination and efficiency inherent in your personality
type, you should reach archwizard status before your thirtieth birthday.
You
will not lose your humanity by means of magic. The changes time and possession
of great power will force upon you are likely to alter you beyond the limits of
your present understanding.
Wizards
generally live four to six centuries, though favored and capable servants are
usually rejuvenated by their archwizard. The binding ceremony invariably
involves sexual union.
As
an archwizard you will be able to exchange minds and bodies, thus binding male
disciples will not be limited by the present bounds of your sexuality.
By Jove! The bloody book was calling me childish because I
wasn’t willing to have sex with guys. Anger seethed for a moment, before I
managed to dismiss it as irrelevant. After a few centuries of regular sex, I
probably wouldn’t retain this attitude. Probably.
Archwizard before thirty sounded good. I knew I could manage
that, barring the unforeseen, because the book knew me better than anything and
anyone could. I now had a strong enough connection to it that I ‘felt’ that it
was not capable of lying to me, or presenting anything with less than complete
factual precision. I now believed that it couldn’t even lie by omission, nor
could it allow me to gain a false impression or retain incorrect assumptions. I
knew that this could be a form of subtle manipulation, but it was very
difficult to retain a suspicious attitude when the feeling of knowing was so
very strong.
I did not fail to heed the warning embodied by the death of
my predecessor. I needed as large a stable of wizards as possible, and…
More words appeared before my eyes, You are capable of initiating disciples here
and now, though you may not bind them until you complete the first enhancement
rituals. It is distinctly recommended that you retain your virginity until the
first ritual and choose a virgin as your partner. This will significantly
improve the results.
Reading
your impressions, there is a 93.6% chance that Christine possesses wizard
potential. There is 89.1% chance that your sister is a potential wizard. The
superficial nature of your interaction with most females precludes further
analysis, but it is a virtual certainty that at least one of your sister’s
friends is a potential, and a proper search of your high school should furnish
you with at least a score of possible candidates. Recall that males have
greater potential in general, but females are more numerous. Wizardly potential
is not rare, but the discipline and mentally agility to advance beyond student
status is.
It
is recommended that you initiate a minimum number of wizards at present. An
arcane confluence will alert the elemental courts, rogue demons and independent
wizards. Secure the allegiance of those closest to you, and go no further. Yes,
the book of wizardry is imbued with tactical and strategic advisory
capabilities, considerably in advance of humanity’s computers.
A grid map of my home and the area around it appeared for a
moment, followed by an extremely detailed map of Stettin Park liberally dotted
with strange markings.
The
markings on the battlemap form a key you will be able to read with ease once
you master the first circle of mind. Mastery of a circle is accomplished by
learning all the spells of that circle available in this book. Breaking a
circle grants you improved facility with the spells available within its
bounds.
Well, I could certainly understand why the book had kept the
information back. Too many shocks aren’t good for one’s system. This was a
major one. The one biggest, most important basic value I’d grown up with was
the autonomy and freedom of the individual. For a minute I’d thought of wizards
as tokens to gather, like the figures in a computer game, building armies as in
most strategy games. Explore, gather resources, build, develop, seek, destroy.
This was no computer game. The mention of Chris and Lee
shook me. I was basically going to be a slavemaster. It made me almost
physically ill. Benevolent or not, there was no sense in being politically
correct about it. The uncompromising way the book had put it made things
crystal clear.
But there was just no way around it. There was no other way
to gather enough power to survive the early years, where discovery would mean
certain destruction or worse if I remained on my own. Even a full archwizard
NEEDED that sort of support, and my suspicious and less than social nature left
no other avenue. Caesar had learned exactly what
trust bought you in such circumstances. There was no margin for lying to myself
and I didn’t even try to delude myself.
Sex with hundreds of women (and never mind what else) had
never been part of my fantasies. It was pure silliness. No one could handle
more than two girls, or perhaps three, assuming they had decent sexual
appetites.
And my own sister! The very reason I wasn’t exactly terribly
sanguine about relationships with anything female. We’d had a nice enough
relationship until three years ago, when she turned absolutely poisonous. Quite
enough to make me doubly wary of girls.
Oh, she was a looker, all right. Mom said that when I was a
baby, I was blond and blue eyed, like her and Lee, and the colours had
gradually darkened to its present dark and brown, respectively. You just
couldn’t fail to notice the fact that Lee had developed just fine, thank you,
not with the tatters of clothing she wore. Haut couture fashions for fourteen
year olds these days seem to focus on ‘less is more’, and Lee is as fashionable
and popular as they get. Or so I assumed from the snatches of
girl-giggle-conversation pieces I’d caught on the fringes of the over perfumed
gaggle of jail bait she brought home, all too often for my taste.
Adolescent fantasies and porn aside, incest wasn’t really my
thing. Not because of the rules, which were a burst dam and honoured more in
the breach anyway, considering what took place in reality, nor out of some
outraged sense of morality. I remember the genetic problems with inbreeding
perfectly well, though that seemed irrelevant. I was troubled because I wasn’t
at all attracted to my mother, and my sister’s physical attractiveness did not
match her insides. At least the goat buggered piece of braided cretinoid
coprocephalic matter hadn’t mentioned Ellen. Probably because, I looked down, Adults’ wizardly potential is frozen. No one
over twenty-five years of age can learn magic, and few over twenty.
So, from serious potential girlfriend I was still feeling
bubbly about, Chris had ninety plus percentage of being a slave, and I would
soon have to start hunting for a harem. The idea was repulsive, not because of
the sexual part – for the first time since I’d cast my first spell, I was erect
– it was the abrogation of free will that had me gnashing my teeth.
Sure, I had power fantasies, and now I’d get to carry them
out easily and relatively soon. I was angry, nauseous, aroused and mightily
confused. What with this being Saturday, RPG day, I couldn’t help but recall
that my characters invariably and gleefully cut down all the slavers they could
find. That summarized how I felt about such things perfectly.
I took another look at the book. It is possible to leave disciples in
ignorance of their status, but not forever, the words appeared slowly, almost hesitantly.
Obviously, it wasn’t too happy with the idea, but there was just no way I was
going to turn from a champion of freedom to the biggest slaver in the world.
Required to save humanity from demons or not, I knew that intention and purpose
did not detract from the awful institute the Conclave had created.
I’d teach and eventually bind, but I couldn’t stomach the
dictator part. I’d weave the wizards’ feelings of loyalty into something that
did not resemble a ‘stable’. What it would be, I had no idea.
I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair, trying
to settle myself. The warmth inside that Chris had kindled managed to return,
and I was surprised to note that I was still erect. It was strange, after
several days without that physical imperative.
I’d stood there for less than ten minutes, I saw from a
glance at the clock. When I turned back to secure things in the garage, I
noticed that the book had more to say. It detailed a second order spell of the
circle of life, which allowed a wizard to ensure that his seed remained sterile
when he came. Obviously, the only way to actually try it out was to spill seed,
and since I was now once more capable of doing so…
The spell was much more complicated than I’d anticipated,
and I left it for the moment, locking things up in the garage and going to the
kitchen for a cold drink.
I spent over an hour studying the spell, while I ate a
couple of sandwiches and prepared a big meal. A single casting of something
like that would be exhausting. There was also the enormous distraction entailed
in ejaculation, which made me wonder why the book had chosen that particular
spell for breaking the first circle of life. It seemed unusually difficult.
Preparations complete, the structure of the spell and the
material it worked on, spunk, memorized, I started to masturbate. It took a
surprising amount of time, as having to keep the spell in mind was not entirely
compatible with my Chris fantasy. Trying to imagine the location of any
freckles below her neck, recalling the sparkle in her green eyes, picturing
what she would look like naked in various postures and those dirty, naughty
things we were going to try, were not conductive to spellcasting. I finally
came, breathing heavily and trying to mouth the spell and gesture properly, but
my mind just wouldn’t co-operate, and lassitude spread from my groin outwards.
My conjecture that the book wanted me to fail remained
unvoiced, and I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening practicing
spellcasting and learning more first order spells. Very minor things, from
cleaning a spill, drying an object and creating a smell, to setting a small
fire and quenching it. It was going more easily, I noticed, and left me the
slightest bit less weary, stomach growling less insistently. The book confirmed
my impression, and advised that I would doubtless break the first circle of
life tomorrow.
I was an absolute mess, physically, emotionally and
mentally. I spent some time trying to relax in the hot tub, but my thoughts
kept spinning in all directions.
For the first time in quite a while, I had problems falling
asleep. After twenty restless minutes underneath the sheets, I switched the
light back on.
I left a phone message with Dan’s answering service,
informing him that I would not be present on Monday’s Jiujitsu practice. Chris
was somewhat more important, and I’d blurted out Monday at lunch, so Monday it
would be.
Then I asked the book for something that would put me to
sleep. It obliged with a series of mental and meditation exercises. Eventually,
it worked.
I woke up much later than I usually did, and felt enormously
refreshed. Obviously, the exercises were something more than mere meditation.
Hopefully, today I’d learn how to activate wizard sight, and finally see the
currents of power.
Taking a minute to adjust to the light, I hurried through my
morning routine and gathered a great big heap of foodstuffs. I spent the entire
morning casting spells, again and again. I was extremely energized and mentally
alert, despite the temporary debilitating effect incurred by each and every
spell.
I had to stop at noon, for in my enthusiasm I’d brought
myself, once more, to the edge of collapse. According to the book, if I
maintained this pace, I’d complete the first circle of the three common circles
– life, transmutation and energy control – within a fortnight. It added that
maintaining the pace would kill me within eight days, at the most.
I took a break from magic with some physical exercise, and
learned that the meditations I’d performed yesterday were a life ritual of the
first circle that offered rejuvenating sleep.
After a hot shower, I repeated the ritual and caught a nap.
Three hours of sleep, and I was feeling almost as good as new. I opened the
book, and began to study the spell of wizard sight, from the second circle of
life magic.
It was hard going, much more difficult than I’d thought it
would be. It made the safe sex spell look like a cantrip, and I realized that
it was only the problem with co-ordinating spell and ejaculation that made that
one so difficult.
Second order spells were an increase of magnitude, what with
the complex memorizations and images the wizard was required to hold in mind.
Having to do three things at once, while keeping absolute concentration on all
of them, was very demanding. One had to perform very precise gestures, mouth
throat shattering syllables, and envision portions of the interior of both the
eyes and their connection to the brain, superimposing magical threads drawn in
a complex pattern over them. All at the same time, of course. It took over an
hour before the book informed me that I had the gestures perfected. Three and a
half hours more passed before I managed to croak the incantation together with
the requisite somatic component of the spell. It was 2 am before I had the
images and the shifts in them the spell required down solid, and another hour
of combining just two elements together before I tried to really cast the
spell.
I was concentrating so hard on being precise, that it took a
moment before I noticed the lack of resistance to the image I was forcing. I
opened my eyes, still holding the image in the back of my mind. It was that
concentration that kept the spell active, and a practiced wizard could keep
several such magics active.
It was like watching a split screen. On one side, everything
was exactly the same. On the other…
It was a different, magical world. I could see colours and
shades that did not exist. I could sense, how and with what I could not say,
the lifeflow and powerflow all around, above and beneath. The sensual barrage
was overwhelming, impossible. I staggered back and struck the cold kitchen
cabinet with my back, breathing raggedly.
Needles of pain struck the center of my head, pierced my
eyes from the inside out. With a low groan, I released the spell.
I slithered down bonelessly, until I sat on the cool tiled
floor, a pure and clean white, back leaning against the cabinet. My skin
tingled and I felt like a pincushion. That really, really hurt.
But pain or no, the vision had been utterly glorious. The
beauty of the vistas offered by nature or computer graphics was nothing,
nothing. I couldn’t imagine how wizards could live with that vision and perhaps
much more, always on, always there. I now had the first glimmer of
understanding as to why elementals did not consider wizards to be human. I was
a novice, not just as a student wizard, but in the nature of my understanding.
I’d thought of magic as a different realm and world, but not in the literal
sense. As there were different realities, so were there more levels to this
reality than I’d realized.
I’d received just the barest glimpse of the hidden world,
but I was already addicted. The sensations were impossibly… more. I’d always
looked down on druggies, alcoholics and chain smokers. All you need is a bit of
will, to kick the addiction. I was a fool. No wonder some archwizards had dedicated
their entire immortal existence to magical research, to the search for more.
Not that I had the barest comprehension of how such research
might be accomplished. The spell I’d just cast seemed impossibly complicated,
and anything more would stretch me to the breaking point. It was now obvious
why the third circle changed the student wizard physically and mentally. Spell
research seemed light years away.
Once the pain diminished from a blaze of fire in my head to
something more bearable, I hissed as I felt the terrible weight of fatigue.
Every muscle was dragging and even breathing was an effort.
I forced myself to eat, and it was a good thing that I’d
thought ahead and prepared some bite-sized servings. I’m not sure I was up to
cutting anything.
Even after the food and ten minutes’ bed rest, I just wasn’t
capable of the meditation that would improve the quality of my sleep. Trying it
was like hitting an already shattered bone with a mallet. When I could see
again and the white flashes of agony were gone, I simply lay down, and
collapsed into a dreamless sleep.
I woke up feeling exceedingly tired. Monday and the big date
with Chris, hopefully my first recruit and ally. Though, to be truthful, that’s
not exactly how I thought of her. I was not going to practice spellcasting
today, at all. Too much of a good thing could kill you, as the book had made
clear.
Instead of taking her to a fancy restaurant and trying to
impress her with my suave and debonair manner and how much money I could spend
in an evening, I was going to bring her here, to something I cooked. What that
thing would be, I wasn’t sure yet. That’s what the afternoon was for, cooking.
The morning, I spent doing all the things I should and would
have done if magic hadn’t showed up. From taking care of the garden and pool to
answering e-mails and touching base with friends, ordering more groceries and
visiting an exotic food shop to stock up on spices, sauces and sundry edibles.
When I finished all of that, I took a couple of hours of power
sleep. Waking up, I felt divine, and spent all that energy cooking enough food
to last ten people three days. I actually enjoyed doing something so mundane
for a change.
I took a long and luxurious shower to get rid of all the
smells. Cooking is hot work. I’d manage to resist too much taste testing, so I
might actually be able to eat instead of making her uncomfortable by staring at
her when she ate.
I put on slacks and a dress shirt, made sure that I was
shaved and presentable, added some cologne – with the very first spell I’d cast
today – and entered the car.
When dad last changed cars, six months ago, he’d let me buy
his old Mercedes at a bargain price. He felt better knowing I’d be using the
same car I’d trained on, one he knew was mechanically sound.
I didn’t believe Chris was expecting another bike ride, and
forcing her to change if she’d picked something with a skirt wasn’t polite. I
also didn’t feel like waiting for a girl to pick what she wanted to wear when
going out. Popular literature and TV made it very clear that it sometimes took
hours.
6
The drive over to Chris’ place gave me some quiet time in
which I could do little but think. Instead of Christine, I found myself
thinking about the nature of power. My ambitions had always been remarkably
narrow, in a sense. Power, to me, had always meant what I could do and
accomplish, all by myself. That was a large part of what made wizardry so very
precious to me, because my personal power now had almost limitless potential.
Most people seemed, for a reason I just did not understand,
to equate power with the influence they had over other people. It was simply
foreign to my nature. Oh, certainly, I was not blind to what you could do
through others, and I’d felt a heady sense of triumph when I manipulated things
my way. But to me, such feelings were a direct reflection upon a personal
accomplishment of mine. Taking pride in dominating or ordering other people
about, or having the authority to do so, meant nothing to me. I had absolutely
no ambition to rule anyone. Ergo, I was not going to become corrupted by having
thousands of loyal and obedient servants who were also wizards.
Yeah, right. I worked on quieting my conscience, and it did
do some good. Besides, it would be decades before I had more than a few wizards
at my side. The book’s advice, to avoid binding a large number of wizards
before I became an archwizard and could reasonably expect to hold my own in
most arenas, was cogent.
Reasonably reassured that I wasn’t going over to the dark side
anytime soon, I made the turn to her street, and stopped near the entrance to
her apartment complex. There was no parking space, and losing the car for the
evening would be extremely awkward. Since I didn’t really need to ‘meet the
parents’, I called her on the cellphone, dialing her mobile number. I always
secured telecommunication and detailed personal information on the people I
knew. It was all freely available in the computer networks, and the habit
served me well.
“Hello?” her voice asked.
“Hi Chris, it’s me. I’m just outside, with no place to park.
Can you come out?”
“Sure, I’m already downstairs. Somehow, I didn’t figure on
you being late,” I could almost hear her smile.
I could see her stepping out, and beeped the horn to attract
her attention. As I’d guessed, she was indeed wearing a dress, a clingy bright
green number that was a wonderful match for her complexion and hair. As she
walked closer, I stared.
Christine looked wonderful. She’s not drop dead gorgeous, as
her face is just the slightest bit too narrow, but she is quite lovely. Her
hair is bright copper and has the slightest curl. She kept it cut… no, styled
short, not quite reaching her shoulders. Her knee length dress showed her
assets to advantage, and she had a lot to show off. Very pale and lightly
freckled skin showed a munificent amount of cleavage. Tastefully, she wore very
little makeup, and packed a little red purse to match her low red heels and the
red gem or crystal at the heart of the gold pendant she wore around her neck.
“So, what do you think?” she grinned.
I smirked and made a little circle in the air with a finger,
and she obediently spun around, shook her ass at me, and completed the twirl. I
only just managed to raise my eyes from her very nice ass before she stood
facing me again.
“Come in, come in, said the spider…” I opened the door for
her, movie fashion.
“Hey,” she said as I took my own seat, “so, where are we
going? You didn’t even ask what my favorite foods are like, which isn’t like
you,” she pursed her lips in puzzlement.
“Now, dear, I’m not entirely predictable, you know,” I was
driving, so I couldn’t look at her.
“Well?” Chris demanded.
“Well, it’s been a few days since I had the leisure to do
so, so I decided to take you in rather than out, and cook,” I explained.
“You can cook?!” her utter astonishment was obvious, even
without looking at her face. “God! So what did you cook? Isn’t it sort of
burning as we speak?” she asked.
“Everything I prepared can be heated up at need, and I timed
things carefully. Don’t worry about it, just be sure to bring an appetite. Can
you cook?”
“Ahem,” she quibbled, “well, not really. A few simple
things, I suppose. Saturday has been the high culinary spotlight of the week
for the last year, really.”
“Well, I hope I can give you a new appreciation for food and
broaden your horizons. It is one of life’s delights, to be savoured. I don’t
think you’ll be disappointed.”
“Somehow, I don’t think so either,” she said in a low tone.
After driving for a few minutes in silence, I asked, “The
pendant is lovely. Where did you get it?”
“It was a birthday gift, last year, from my best friend.
We’ve been together since kinder-garden. Her name is Kristen, and everyone’s
called us Criss and Cross for years now.”
“So, what does she say?”
“You mean, about us? Well, she’s happy I’m dating, for once.
And she really wants to meet you. You know, you never told me where you live.
So where are we going?”
Ahem, quick
subject change. “Near the south end of Stetting Park, abutting the bridge.
Another five minutes or so. Did you bring a bathing suit?”
“What? Are you
kidding?”
“Hardly. We’ve
got a pool and a very nice jacuzzi. You can swim, right?”
“Oh yes, I
love to swim. How big is the pool, anyway?”
We exchanged
some more small talk, and then we were there. The headlights highlighted the
vine-enwrapped walls, and the gate began to retract when I pressed the remote.
“This is very
nice,” Chris said. “Is this your dad’s car? It’s awfully fancy,” she’d noticed
the instrumentation, and begun to poke about.
“Well, it was his car,” I replied as I reversed into the
garage, “but he sold it to me when he got a new one, a few months ago. The
gadgets are all mine.”
“Your car, huh,” I caught her shaking her head in my
peripheral vision.
“Well lady, your chariot has arrived. Grand Central Station.
Off we go,” I mangled a few expressions.
She opened the door, stepped out and froze. She looked
about, sniffed, and then audibly inhaled air through her nose. The expression
on her face was just too cute for words. “That smell!” she looked at me wide
eyed, “If I wasn’t hungry, I bloody well would be now! My god. What did you
make? You have got to show me!”
“Follow me,” I led her to the kitchen, a very spacious
kitchen now that I looked at it for a moment through a stranger’s eyes. There
was seating for eight, though this was where we, the family, ate. The formal
dining room had sufficient space, and a very large table, for more than thirty
people.
I’d kept one of the ovens on a low temperature, enough to
keep some of everything hot for us. It was a very large oven. I opened it, put
on a pair of gloves, and began pulling things out and laying them down on the
counter by one of the sinks.
“The first bit here is Mexican. Those are tortillas filled
with chilli con carne and rice, a bit spicy. The wok is chicken, cashew nuts,
and tofu with a large selection of vegetables, in soy sauce, garlic, ginger,
and a few other things. That one is sweet potatoes, potatoes, cheese, and
garlic. Not a main entrée. And that one’s my version of your basic curry, which
is also quite spicy. That bowl is shrimp, noodles, and tofu, plus veggies. The
yellow rice is for the Indian food, the one with tofu, mushrooms, and green
bits goes well with everything. Roasted
mushrooms with peppers, onions, lettuce, tomato and raspberry vinaigrette.
Baked, breaded chicken breast filled with cheese and topped with a lemon-lime
butter. That one over there is sautéed
…”
“Enough!”
she demanded. “I wanna taste. Now! If you keep mouthing off, it’ll get cold.”
“Think of it
as a buffet,” I grinned and offered her an extra large plate and utensils from
the table I’d set earlier. “Oh, no fish, and no dessert. I didn’t want to kill
you,” I semi-apologized.
“Uhmmm,” she tried to respond, but her mouth was full. I
offered her a glass of water. She was making contented noises while chewing
slowly, and I mimed ‘drink’, to which she waved ‘later’.
We heaped our plates, and while she made a lot of
appreciative noises and murmured “this is great” and “uhm, I like this one even
better,” we didn’t actually talk. Our mouths were otherwise engaged. I steered
her away from the hotter dishes after she had trouble with the curry. I was
even crass enough to cast a few spells surreptitiously, just so I could eat
more.
We took our time, eating steadily for more than half an
hour, heating whatever had cooled in the microwave. I was impressed by the
amount Chris managed to cram in, and she managed to at least taste most
everything. When I judged the time right, I excused myself to the bathroom, and
cast the wizard sight spell.
This time, I managed to orient myself, focusing determinedly
and forcing the perception into focus. It was still somewhat painful, but I
could function. Two minutes, and I was back at the table, eating like mad.
The book had told me exactly what to look for. Chris had
high potential, for a girl, which was not surprising, but did relieve my
anxiety. A girlfriend I could not introduce into my world, or one who could not
accept it, was just impossible.
“Wow…” Chris finally leaned back in her chair, overcome.
“Well, I admit that a dessert would be a bit much, after this. But really, did
you cook all of this for me? For us? It seems… well, an awful lot too much.”
Chris was looking over the havoc we’d wreaked, and for all
our work, we’d not made much of a dent in the buffet.
“You’re right, of course, and it has to do with that thing I
was going to tell you about…”
“I remember,” she cut me off in mid-speech. “So, what was it
all about? No, wait, I have to visit the bathroom, give me a minute,” she
snatched her little purse and rose heavily, clutching her stomach and groaning
theatrically. I gave her precise directions, and started to pack the food into
containers, preparatory to putting it in the fridge or the freezer.
Some of it I left, for the night was young, and we’d both
need more nourishment. Such was a student wizard’s lot.
When she returned, looking much refreshed, she asked, “Say,
you’re all alone here, right? So why no wine, or alcohol?”
I blinked, blindsided by this. “Well, quite simply, I abhor
the taste. Beer, wine, ninety proof, they all taste like distilled muck.
Disgusting. There’s also the fact that I find the very idea of losing control
of myself, be it with drink or drugs, to be completely intolerable. It’s just
not me.”
She mulled that over for a moment. “Yeah, I see what you
mean. It’s definitely not you,” she adjusted her dress, pulling it a bit lower,
and smirked as my eyes descended from her face to her bosom. “Now then, what
was it you wanted to show and tell?”
“Here, let’s go to the porch,” I led her over and offered
her a seat. It was rather dark inside, and the glass offered a wonderful view
of the sky. The pale crescent of the moon was visible, and we could see the
wind brushing the leaves outside. With my wizard sight spell still active,
there was so much more to this that I was dazzled at first.
“I’m going to show you a magic trick,” I smiled tightly,
“and I want you to repeat it if you can.” Without further ado, I repeated the
very first spell I’d cast, and having learned some refinement, directed less
power into it.
I uttered the words of the incantation clearly, loudly and
precisely. A small jet of blue flame rose from the tip of my index finger.
For a few seconds, she just stared at it. I lowered my
finger, and the fire faded away. “Now you try it.”
She was moving her head slightly back and forth in a ‘no’,
likely without even realizing what she was doing, and shaking like a leaf.
“I know that you can do it. Try,” I encouraged her.
Chris breathed sharply in, and straightened her back. Her
first few attempts were marred by a nervous stammer, but soon she was making a
credible effort. It wasn’t long before a spell conjured fired adorned her
up-thrust finger.
“To stop it, just lower the finger,” I instructed her. “A
spell drains all of its energy from you, and then you need to eat like an
entire herd of starving elephants. Break it,” I told her, and she did.
I rose from my seat, stepped forward, and took her limp
hands in mine. I raised her to me, and hugged her tightly. She was soon hugging
me back, a very comfortable softness pressing against me. After about a minute
of this, I drew back slightly, caught her on the chin, and gently raised her
head so that her green eyes met mine. Her eyes were wide and wondering, her
lips slightly parted.
“This is what changed me, and now you. Magic, real magic. An
entire world we didn’t know was there.”
I leaned forward, and touched my lips to hers in a kiss.
With a sharp burst of sound, glass shattered, and a
windstorm dove into the porch.
I could see it over her shoulder, as the wizard sight was
still hanging in the back of my mind and superimposed over my vision.
It was beautiful, grace incarnate, sharp edged, and
surprisingly small. A living, breathing current of air, an elemental, and it
was not friendly. It must have been pure chance, that it was so close as to
immediately note the little spark of magic we’d raised, and I was instantly
thankful that the stupid thing had chosen to investigate, instead of going back
to report the incident to the nearest elemental court.
Ordinary people would not have connected the shattering
glass with an elemental invasion, attributing it to accident or bad luck. The
living section of the breeze that now permeated my porch had even tossed a fist
sized bit of rock in, or had actually used that to break the glass instead of
its own strength.
Chris stiffened against me, but I shushed her and kept hold
of her, not letting her turn around. I used her body as a sight shield, casting
one of the only two offensive spells I had, and cut.
The lifequench spell that I’d used to kill ants was not a
spell anyone could use in a real fight, so there were only two. The firefinger
spell, and the lifecutter, both unimpressive first order spells. I channeled
more power into the tiny spell framework, but not as much as I could have,
because I might well have need of a second string to my bow.
A pity the book had not instructed me on the vital spots of
elementals, for wizard sight granted me an excellent view of the tangled
connections that afforded life to what should not, by any scientific principle,
be capable of such.
A section of its essence unraveled, and the wind shrieked
its agony, burning our ears.
As it lunged towards me, a solid lance of air, I tossed
Chris at a sofa outside the line of strike and jumped back and sideways, trying
to garner enough precious seconds to launch another attack.
It was frightfully fast, but the surprise and shock, and the
pain it had suffered, granted me the second’s reprieve that allowed me to
finish a second spell.
A hot torch of blue spellflames shot from my pointed finger,
and it desperately aborted its charge, changing directions and slipping aside –
fortunately, away from Chris.
It was blindingly quick, but that advantage of speed was not
enough to save it completely. A large section of it burned away, leaving not
much more than a third of it intact. I could see the unraveled threads of life
fading away. The elemental was finished, dying.
But it had no intention of perishing alone, and it spun
around and tossed a chair at me. That was so unexpected, I didn’t react in
time. I dodged, but it caught me on the side, and I fell against the wall,
losing my breath.
With adrenaline pulsing through my system, I didn’t feel the
pain or any spellcasting fatigue, and I was trained to absorb damage and fight
on. But I just wasn’t fast enough. Nothing human could be.
No longer a lance, it was now a slender javelin, a visible
concentration of near solid air. Everything assumed slow motion play, as I
raised my hand to point at it, far too slow. It was flying at me, and would
impale me like a stuck butterfly.
Chris moved into my line of vision, and a ray of wavering
blue flame struck it, leaping from her pointed finger. I left off trying my own
spell, and used the distraction to dodge aside.
Pain! A line of blazing lava spread along my side, and I
channeled all of that agony and my rising anger into one last spell, slicing
the remnants of the elemental apart.
The roaring in my ears subsided, and the sudden silence was
deafening. I stared blankly straight ahead, in shock. The pain was gone, as if
the wound had disappeared with the attacker.
Something touched me, and I reacted without thinking,
grabbing the hand and twisting. It took less than a second to realize that it
was Christine, the same Chris who’d just save my life, and halt the maneuver.
I gasped in pain as she fell on me, and caught her, hugging
her close. With the fight apparently over, the reaction was bleeding in, and I
was too close to hyperventilating. I took in a deep breath, and looked
Christine in the eyes, smiling weakly.
She leaned down, and kissed me. Her lips touched mine, and I
opened my mouth, more surprised than anything. Chris’ mouth pressed
insistently, her tongue snaking out, and I began to respond. We breathed
through our nostrils, and kissed, and kissed. It was a very prolonged and
passionate tongue dueling session. It was wonderful. My hands, seemingly of
their own accord, went down and began to squeeze and caress her ass, and she
moaned into my mouth.
Our lips and tongues danced against each other, and I raised
her dress, reaching directly for the soft skin of her buttocks, kneading and
pressing. Chris spread her legs and ground herself harder into me.
I could feel her soft breasts digging into me, and the
raised nubs of her nipples. Her crotch dug into mine, but I was only half
erect. While my mind was feeling all heady and stimulated, my body could not
catch up.
I bit her lower lip, chewing on it, and she squealed as my
fingers reached beneath her panties, cradling her asscheeks. Her breathing
quickened, and the light was bright enough for me to see that she was quite
flushed. I could not see more, for I’d abandoned concentration on wizard sight
the moment the elemental died.
I dug in further, rolling her soft behind in my hands, and
she kissed me harder. Then Chris struggled, drawing back, and sat straddling
me. The light from the house shone on her, painting her ghostly white, green,
and scarlet, her breasts visibly rising and falling. My hands were still
planted on her ass, and I couldn’t stop playing with her rear end.
She seemed to steel herself, then she closed her eyes and
grabbed the hem of her green dress, and lifted. She struggled a bit, then got
it off, tossing it aside.
In lacy panties and bra, a white only slightly paler than
her skin, Chris took my breath away. I reached back with one hand, caressing
the smoothness of her stomach, rising slowly.
After a moment, she reached behind her, unclasped her bra,
and sent it after the dress. For a moment, I just stared at her breasts, proud
pink nipples jutting splendidly. They were magnificent, full, high, and large
on her frame, and some buried animalistic instinct had me burning up.
I withdrew my hands and rolled sideways, catching her and
cushioning her fall, laying her down gently on the floor. I pinned her to the
ground with a kiss, and then rose and tore my shirt off. Skin against silk
smooth skin, we kissed and caressed each other with a will, growing hotter and
hotter as her nipples burned holes in my chest and our lower bodies mashed
together.
I put a hand on her forehead, pushing her head down and
breaking our fervid lip-lock, and began trailing kisses down her neck, playing
‘connect the freckles’.
“Yesss,” Chris hissed, as my lips and tongue, with
occasional and judicious application of teeth, left her throat to visit a
collarbone and trailed slowly down. I nibbled on the upper slopes of her
breasts, and then licked down between them, holding each in one hand, hefting
them from beneath. This raised them sharply up, and I couldn’t but squeeze my
fingers rhythmically, producing a delightful jiggle.
“God!” she shouted, arching her back and raising the pale
cones yet higher. I fastened my mouth upon her right breast, locking the lips
around her areola and tonguing all around it, leaving a trail of saliva. I
raised a hand, and spiraled fingers on the delightful, yielding softness of a
breast, driving inward.
I bit down on her right nipple and pinched her left
simultaneously, and she bucked beneath me.
“God, yes! Bite my titties, pinch them, lick them,” she
started calling out, and her hands, formerly clenched at her sides, rose to
direct the movement of my mouth and fingers.
Chris started telling me what she wanted done in a loud,
excited voice, pausing frequently for gasps and the occasional moan. It was
incredibly arousing, hearing her words.
“Yes, yes! Swallow it all! Pinch it harder, ahh!”
I’m not sure how long I was lost in her bountiful mammaries,
before her hips began to thrust against me sharply enough to remind me of
another bounty.
When my mouth began its travels downward, she seemed to lose
the ability to speak, grunting loudly and breathing up a storm. Such vocal
enthusiasm spurred me admirably, and I didn’t spend too much time licking and
probing her smooth white belly or her inward turned navel.
When I reached her panty line, I bit down on the delectable,
trembling flesh just above, and rose, looking down on her. I laid a single
finger at the hollow of her throat, and retraced the journey down, slowly,
teasingly.
By now, my cock was trying to burn its way out, and it was
growing more than slightly uncomfortable. With my other hand, I wrestled my
shoes and pants away, and awkwardly tore down my underwear. By that time, my
finger had reached its destination, and I was playing all around her panties,
caressing the skin around and then darting beneath, and back outside.
The white material was drenched, and I drew them off slowly,
leaving Chris in her red heels. She’d taken the pendant off with the dress.
There was a neatly trimmed bush of reddish curls, darker
than her hair, but her sex was utterly bare. Her lips were puffed and reddish,
her clit peeking out, and the aroma of sexually excited girl carried a unique
tang.
“Come on, god! Eat me, already!” Chris showed that she’d
managed to regain coherence, and actually raised herself on her elbows,
watching, eyes dilated with passion. “Are you waiting for a written
invitation?” she asked plaintively, spreading her legs wider.
“Do you know that a surprising number of people believe the
tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body?” I asked Chris. “It’s
actually composed of 16 different muscles. But allow me to demonstrate why that
error is ever so common.”
I dove right in. I licked and sucked, devouring her with
relish, and her answer dissolved into a long, drawn out, wordless exclamation.
I licked along the lips of her cunt, slid in and out, slurping and sloshing in
her juices.
Then I raised my head and laid the bottom of my tongue
against the nerve bundle of her clit. Chris’ head came up off the floor, her
back arched, her eyes grew as big as milk saucers, and her mouth hung wide
open. She gasped for air in great gulping lungfuls as though she couldn't
breathe. Her hips rose, and her thighs clamped about my head, nearly smothering
me.
I grabbed her ankles, and managed to spread her legs again
with a great deal of effort. Splayed open, she was even more vulnerable and
accessible, and I focused on her clit, closing my lips on it and sucking,
lashing it with my tongue at unpredictable intervals.
“OH GOD! FUCK! YES!” Chris screamed as she bucked and
twisted, shuddered and yelled loud enough to bring the rafters down. If we’d
had any neighbours, they’d have called the police to report a multiple
homicide.
I loved the way Chris reacted so vocally, and allowed her
thighs to clamp about my head, slightly muffling the painfully loud sounds she
was making. I continued to abuse her cunt and clit as she wailed away and
vibrated, alternately tongue fucking her, plunging inside as deep as my tongue
could reach and flailing all about her hot, moist interior, and concentrating
on her clit.
Her screaming peaked and faded, then her shuddering spasms
renewed and the volume rose.
“Enough, please, enough, too, much,” she finally managed to
gasp out, and I left off her oversensitive parts, playing with the remarkably
soft hair of her pubes.
“Fuck,” she sighed after she’d recovered a bit, “but you
really know how to show a girl a good time. Great food, real magic, monsters
and mayhem, and this. I’ve never come like that. Where did you learn how to do
that?”
“Which one? Just kidding,” I hastened to add. “Well, you
know me. I research things. Do you really think I’ve looked at sex any more
casually than at anything else I consider important?”
“Of course,” Chris gave me a weak smile, “must be the result
of all that terribly boring work with instruction manuals. But aren’t you
supposed to come, too?” she looked a trifle concerned. “I don’t think I can
take more orgasms. I’d just die.”
“Come now, Chris, surely you’re not that innocent,” I shot
her a raunchy leer. “We can’t fuck yet, as much as we might want to, but there
are other things we can do.”
“CAN’T fuck?” she asked, looking stunned. “What do you mean?
Are you…?”
“No, no,” I hurried, “nothing bad. It’s just, there’s a
magical ritual that will make us true wizards, and we need to maintain
technical virginity for that. In less than a month, I promise. I’ll show you
the book of wizardry, and you can learn everything directly from it. Later.”
“Ok,” she said weakly. “Ahem, you said other things. Oh! You
want a blowjob, you cad you. And on our first official date. I’m such a slut,”
she seemed to revel in the word, rather than showing shame.
“I’ve never… you know. You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
“With pleasure,” I said, face composed. “I was just
wondering, why are you so smooth down there? I’ll be the first to admit that it
makes oral sex more comfortable, but…”
“Oh,” she blushed simply scarlet, “that.”
“Yes, that.”
“It was a dare, with Kris. She dared me. Kristen, I mean,”
she added, apparently realizing that there was ample room for confusion.
“You know, I get the strangest feeling,” I paused for
dramatic effect, “that you’re very… ‘interested’ in your best friend.”
Chris turned red enough to match her hair, and looked aside.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I know it’s wrong. Utterly perverted. I’m not a
lesbian. But…”
“No, no, I didn’t mean anything negative by it. You’re
obviously not lesbian, or you wouldn’t have jumped me. Bisexuality is common
enough, and you need to acknowledge it or you’ll just hurt yourself. Perversity
is the heart of human sexuality, for some perverse reason. The fact that it’s
‘wrong’ or ‘dirty’ just makes it more exciting. Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I suppose, if you say so, Dr. Ruth,” she mumbled.
“Who?”
She actually rolled her eyes at me, “Never mind. I think I
owe you a blowjob? And then you’ll tell me all about magic? Do we have a
bargain?”
“Signed, annotated and sealed,” I nodded solemnly. “Now, the
thing to remember is, gentle. Watch for the teeth, use lots of tongue, and
suction. There are many tricks to it, but you can work your way up to them.”
“Oh?” she stuck her tongue out, “It was ONE blowjob for the
secrets of magic, oh not so great bargainer of a wizard.”
“Right, so we’ll start with one. And please do my fragile
male ego one favor, and try to swallow the first time?” I entreated.
“We’ll see. Now sit down, and let mama Chris take care of
you, baby,” she sighed as she got up, coming to kneel at my feet.
I sat down and leaned back, after placing my discarded
clothes beneath where her knees would go, and pondered just how much influence
the bound loyalty of wizard to archwizard had on her behaviour. An awful lot
was my instant conclusion, but I had no regrets, or room for them. Certainly,
she’d never have admitted anything about her feelings for Kristen without the
loyalty bond. I could obsess over this forever, always asking myself if this or
that was the result of compulsion, or simply ignore it. There was only one
sensible choice.
Chris placed her mouth on the head of my cock, just holding
it there for a minute. Then her tongue came out to join in the fun. She began
licking the tip, going around and around. Slowly, steadily, she began
encompassing more and more of it. My breathing was getting heavier, my grip on
the chair tightening. I groaned as she began to apply suction, thinking ‘damn,
but she’s a natural’, before beginning to thrust out at her.
“Oh, put your hand on the part that’s not in your mouth,” I
gasped out, “that’ll stop me from plunging in. The thrusting is not voluntary,”
I breathed in deeply in an attempt to regain composure, and utterly lost it
when she began humming and reached out to play with my balls.
‘The bitch lied!’ was my foremost thought as I erupted and
exploded, an attempt to warn her drowned in a loud groan.
I collapsed back in the chair, and it was a short while
before my eyes could focus. Chris was using a finger to wipe the dribble from
my last spurt of cum, and taking it into her mouth.
When she saw that I’d returned to the world and was watching
her, she tilted her head back and said, defensively, “It’s not that bad.”
“Whoa, love, that’s not something I’d ever complain about.
Let me guess, you’ve been doing your own reading? Or did Kristen tell you all
about it?”
“Well,” she seemed a bit embarrassed, “not really Kristen.
She’s more of a tomboy, mad about soccer of all things. But girls do talk, and
I can read and have internet access. You know how that goes,” she squirmed.
“Come here,” I reached out and brought her up, her shapely,
bare behind settling on me.
For a few minutes we just cuddled, and I nibbled on her ear
and neck. I don’t know how she felt, but I was crashing and burning. Spells and
sex are a deadly combination.
“The food,” I said.
“Fuel for magic?” she asked.
“Right. Told you you’re smart. There’s a lot more to
discuss. Let’s take a shower, and talk over some more food. Lots more food.”
The shower was very pleasant, but I kept it short. Rubbing
soap all over a naked Chris was quite a treat, but I was too close to collapse.
In retrospect, I was amazed that I’d managed an erection. I’d always read that
danger heightened the sex drive, and supposed that, plus age sixteen resiliency
(read: unending lust) were to account for it.
Over a second enormous and excellent meal, I introduced
Chris to the book, which also deigned to inform me that once I managed to
enhance myself with the ritual, I’d be able to enhance my wizards, even if they
had yet to master the third circle of life. This ability, fortunately, was
limited to archwizards. Ordinary lone wizards had to do things the hard way,
which probably meant that there weren’t many powerful wizards. The spells were
terribly difficult, and innate talent alone was not enough.
I would have had severe doubts concerning my own chances of
breaking the second circle, were it not for the book’s blasé attitude and utter
certainty.
Chris was astounded and excited by the revelations, and took
my need for binding more wizards with sex with surprising equanimity. The
loyalty compulsion? Or perhaps it just didn’t seem real, amidst all the
fantastic revelations.
Chris also showed her worth. “Say, Logan, this Conclave. If
they were great powerful archwizards, wouldn’t they have golems and spell
driven machines and such?”
Each
archwizard and the Conclave as a whole kept war and utility machines, both
semi-intelligent golems and the creations you would refer to as ‘mechas’ or
‘warstriders’, great enhancement suits of armor built for mortals. The Conclave
did not possess your sense of morality, and these suits feed on a mortal’s life
force, killing any user after a single battle or prolonged period of use.
It
is likely that a few storehouses of such machines remain hidden, particularly
in the area you know as Siberia, but they require authorization codes that
cannot be found outside the archives of the Archimagical College.
“Chris? It’s getting late. Am I correct in assuming there’s
no way in hell you can spend the night?”
“Unfortunately,” she smiled sadly.
“I can pick you up tomorrow at ten in the morning. We’ll
spend the day studying magic,” I smiled at her.
“I work tomorrow,” Chris protested.
“So? Quit your job. With magic, eventually money will be
meaningless. If you need something, just ask, and you can repay me or not, at
your will. We wizards must stick together, or we’ll hang apart. You saw, well…
almost saw, very graphic evidence of that just this evening. A passing Zephyr,
one of the least of the air elementals, noticed our existence, and came very
close to killing us. We need to grow stronger, we need to stay together. Hell,
invite your friend Kris. If she has the talent, we’ll have us another wizard.
And maybe,” I smiled at her, “you’ll get to have some fun with her. I’ll see
what I can do,” I twisted away from another kick aimed at my shin.
“Whatever you do,” I stared Chris in the eyes, completely
serious for once, “Don’t ever teach anyone magic. You mustn’t. It would have
lethal results. The book is required to initiate my talent, and only I have the
proper connection to it,” I lied to her by telling the literal, absolute truth.
Lethal results, because I’d probably, eventually, kill any unbound wizard. The
book had called me obsessive, suspicious and uncompromising, and I couldn’t
argue. I was a true maniac.
I drove her home in silence, but it was a warm, contented
silence. She had a lot of information to digest, and I left her to it.
We parted with a kiss that starting growing into something
more, before we drew apart with a sheepish exchange of looks.
“I’ll talk to Kris,” Chris promised me, “see you tomorrow.
I’ll give my notice tomorrow, too. Good night, Logan!”
The first thing I did once I returned home was secure all of
Kristen’s details. It was a simple matter, as I had a routine ready and all I
needed was her basic personal information. Since she went to Christine’s high
school, and was in the same grade since they’d gone to kinder-garden together,
the data was quickly available via the school’s computer. I entered the
information and activated the program, and went to bed. This time, I managed
the ‘good sleep’ ritual.
7
Waking up was wonderful. I felt gooood. I actually caught
myself humming as I took care of the morning ablutions. Not having sex for the
next three plus weeks was probably going to be the most difficult resolution
I’d ever undertake, however long I might live, but I was quite certain I’d
manage it.
I thought for a moment, then opened the book.
There
is 97.6% that Kristen Clark possesses high wizard potential, based on Christine
Felvers’ impressions.
I was not surprised. Like attracts like, and I was almost
willing to bet that anyone with wizard potential tended to associate with other
potentials. That would make things a bit easier, but it might also make it
harder to minimize the initial acquisition phase.
There was also the matter of what I’d once thought of as the
‘real world’. Most of the people I’d initiate would be teens, and I needed to
find a way isolate them, first at my home and later at the safehouse I’d buy.
The impact of the ‘real world’ was another problem, because I was feeling more
and more divorced from it. Making money just didn’t mean anything to me
anymore, and I was having trouble even thinking of school or the ordinary
people I associated with. There was an irremediable gulf between us now, but I
still had to live here, and I much preferred to do it in the manner I had thus
far. That is to say, on my terms, or as far as I could go in that direction.
I went to the computer, drafted a ‘quitting by reason of ill
health’ notice to my two employers, in one case apologizing for my inability to
complete the bit of programming they’d just sent. Fortunately, I’d thought
ahead and had everything ready, including the medical details, so it took less
than ten minutes. I was already rich, and the information I had trickling in
would suffice for ‘investment acumen’. I even spent half an hour following up
on data and sending sell and purchase orders.
I spent the next half hour making appointments with four
realtors. I had to specify my requirements, and lied a lot about who I was and
what I did. Out of pure intransigence – I really didn’t want to move, and I was
more than slightly pissed at the very thought – I picked a different identity
to present to each realtor. At the very least, it would be good disguise
practice. Heh, maybe Chris would like to play the wife.
Next came a spell I needed to learn, a first circle
transmutation that copied text or imprinted text from mental image. I
immediately made use of it, copying precise plans for the shrines I would need
to have installed in less than a month. I started to search for local
craftspeople of repute who’d be able to build them, but it was time to prepare
for my visitors.
First came the necessities. I prepared a lot of food, and
ate like a starveling. I used the time to query the book about the training I
needed to offer my wizards. It made for interesting reading material, and the
book made sure to advise me that I would not be able to use their powers to
directly augment mine until I passed the sixth circle enhancement ritual and
learned a few spells from the first circle of mind.
A mellow chime indicated that there was someone outside,
approaching the gate. I frowned momentarily, unable to even guess who might
want to bother me.
Salesmen and vandals knew better then to tread in this
neighbourhood.
After too many friends and acquaintances made far too many
pointed remarks about what a great place for a party my place was, I stopped
inviting people over. My parents had made me promise I’d never have parties at
home, and I got very annoyed at having to repeat that, over and over again.
That, a bit of deliberate anti-social behaviour, and a few displays of malice,
served to get the popular crowd and all the gold diggers off my back, a couple
of years ago. A vast relief.
I activated the security monitor for the gate. It took less
than a second to recognize Jack Kingston’s battered car, and I had a good idea
what was involved.
He was moving towards the intercom, looking around
cautiously. The security system was fairly impressive, and I’d made sure to
pass around a few fables about what happened to people who intruded on my home.
It was only a day later when I overheard the terrible rumours flying around
school. A few people, mostly those who recognized the improbable when they
heard it, actually asked me about the rumours. My bland reply, that I just
couldn’t talk about matters of security, intensified the rumours to a fever
pitch. But it did mean that no school chums would drop over, unless they really
needed to.
I activated the sound, “Hey Jack, I’ll be with you in a
minute,” and closed the circuit. I was already dressed, as I had to drive over
and pick the girls up in twenty minutes, and I added the little pistol as a bit
of insurance. Using magic where people might notice was to be avoided, for all
the obvious reasons.
I opened the gate and stepped through, and offered Jack
about twice what his sister could have earned in a ten-hour shift, “Real sorry
about that,” I winced at the thought of having to deal with Linda, “I don’t
usually forget things, but I’ve been real busy. I have to go pick up my
girlfriend, so I really can’t offer you any hospitality.”
Jack didn’t take the money. “It’s not enough?” I asked,
somewhat surprised, “How much should it be?”
“No man, that’s more than twice what it should be,” he shook
his head.
“Hey, seriously, keep the change. Serving as an intermediary
and having to take shit from Linda, you’ve bloody well earned it. Keeping up
with a dozen toddlers for a day makes for a nice relaxing change of pace from
that bitch.”
A small upward curve in the left corner of his mouth, the
hint of a smile, showed that he quite agreed. He took the bills, and leaned
back in a studied casual pose, “Since when do you have a girlfriend? I
distinctly remember overhearing you say that females are a waste of air,” he
asked with eyebrows raised.
“Well, come on, be serious. I was fourteen, and you’ve seen
MY sister.”
Jack nodded acknowledgement.
“Since yesterday. No, I suppose Saturday would qualify.”
“A dnd freak chick? I don’t suppose there are any other
girls there?” he asked.
“I didn’t know you played.”
“Well, I don’t. But a girl who does might be human. Linda
and her friends might not be as bad as your sister and her pack of roaches, but
they’re plenty bad. I don’t date much, really, and I’m in between at the
moment. More than you, of course, but then again, you’ve only taken one girl
out that I know of. I never did figure out why you’d pick Diana, and then blow
her off.”
“Inflatable sex dolls offer better conversation,” was really
the best explanation I could give, “and I didn’t date because I couldn’t find
anyone who interested me in the slightest. I’m afraid my group is mostly
oldies, at least all the female ones are. If I find someone, I’ll send her your
way. Doing my thing for evolution, and I don’t think I can handle more than…” I
shut my mouth.
“More than?” he repeated.
“Slip of the tongue,” I smiled tightly, “and I really do
have to go. My girlfriend’s known me for a year, and if I’m late, she’ll start
panicking. Once again, my apologies.”
Jack could take a hint. A “No problem,” a wave, and he was
off. I bet that he had major wizard potential, and I could foist a disciple off
on him. If I found someone appropriate. Worth a try, anyway, if not necessarily
any time soon.
It was more than a bit unsettling, finding that I’d started
to think of everyone according to their wizard potential. On second thought, it
was probably completely typical and predictable of me. Besides, who would say
‘No’ to a four-century lifespan plus magic powers? Besides the nitpickers who
would rather not fight for their lives against demonic monstrosities and
elemental lords, that is…
Dammit, I thought furiously as I buckled in and started the
car, I need more battle magic. Desperately, and quickly. I’d see what I could
do about breaking the first circle of energy manipulation today. I do hope
Ellis does a proper job of the book search, and sends me the book list as soon
as possible. That he hadn’t thus far meant that he was taking the job very
seriously, or that something unfortunate had taken place. I was betting on the
former, but there was a deadline.
I was furiously planning things all through the drive, so
much so that I didn’t even think of Christine.
That changed immediately when I stopped the car. Chris
opened the door, slithered in, threw a bag into the backseat, and attacked me.
She fairly leapt on me, and I was thrown back against the
door by her weight. She found my mouth and kissed me hard, thrusting her tongue
and grinding herself against me. I was kissing back and hugging her quickly
enough, and actually lifted her from the passenger’s seat and onto me. I was
growing excited, and the car wasn’t really the place for this.
It took the application of superior strength to make her
stop the rain of kisses. “God, but it seemed like a completely loony dream,”
she whispered, green eyes wide, a tear actually leaking from one. “I didn’t
dare practice the spell on my own, just in case… and it’s so hard to believe,”
she looked at me. “We really are going to practice magic today, right? Oh, and
I can stay the night. I arranged things with Kris.”
“Yes,” I replied softly, “we really are going to practice
magic. Can Kristen stay, too?”
Chris hit me, but it was half hearted. “Yes, she probably
can if she really wants to,” she admitted. “Do you really think she can be a
wizard, too?”
“I don’t think one way or the other, but the book is pretty
certain that she can, and thus will be. You didn’t actually tell her about the
magic, did you?”
“Are you nuts? She’d never have listened. I just mentioned
the pool and hot tub, and like I said, she did want to meet you.”
“Why did she want to see me, anway?”
“Well, I did sort of describe you,” she admitted, “but I
think there’s something more. She’s been much too quiet recently, and if Kris
isn’t telling me, it’s probably trouble.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s something to do with beating up
people. I mentioned your juji… whatever that is, the fighting thing, and she
perked up noticeably.”
“Sounds simple enough. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not
to use magic in public, other than times where desperate measures are called
for, right?”
“Please, just how much magic do I know? Be serious.”
“Oh, I am, and that much will change. According to the book,
I can teach you what I know much faster than you’d be able to learn on your
own. Something to do with the ‘master-apprentice’ thing,” I fudged things a
bit.
“So what will we be learning today?” Chris asked, eyes
shining, and went back to rubbing herself on me.
“Chris! I don’t want to repeat things. Let’s get your
friend, and… by the way, which is Criss and which is Cross?”
“Oh, pooh. Spoilsport,” she moved back a bit. “Obviously, she’s
Cross. I’m the nice, reasonable girl, and she’s the one with the temper.”
“Right,” I lifted Chris back to the passenger seat. Woof,
maybe she could stand to lose a bit of weight.
With Christine giving me directions and adding the
occasional snide comment about the way I drove, it took less than five minutes
to reach Kristen’s place. The street was full of shops, and above them a number
of stories that contained apartments.
I was driving slowly, and there wasn’t anyone behind me to
grow annoyed.
“That her?”
Three big guys were standing around a girl. All I could
really see of her was brown hair. The body language was not promising.
“Yes,” Chris sounded scared, “I think she’s in trouble.”
That much was quite obvious. “Can you use a gun?”
“A gun? No!” Chris recoiled.
“Then stay in the car.”
There was just enough room, and I parked the Mercedes
smoothly, left it running, and was out of the car in an instant.
“Come on, Kristen, where’s your bag? We’re late.”
“Logan?” I heard her say, from behind the wall of flesh. Up
close, they looked even bigger. High school seniors, probably.
“That’s right, Chris is waiting, come on,” I said, sounding
impatient.
They turned to look at me. They didn’t look ugly, they just
felt ugly.
“Why don’t you just split, runt,” one of them said, the
other two laughing in response, “we’ve got business with the chick.”
Then they actually turned back to her, ignoring me.
Hmmm, options.
I could try talking, magic, pistol or just make them hurt.
Martial arts or no, you don’t really want to pick a fight with more than one
guy at a time. Jackie Chan makes it look easy, but it isn’t, even when the
bozos don’t know the first thing about fighting. The advantage superior numbers
grant, the ability to employ multiple axes for assault, is usually decisive.
This wasn’t usually, and the same could be said of surprise.
In addition, I was angry, which also wasn’t unusual.
You really don’t want to use your fists if there’s any way
to avoid it, even after toughening them up for years. Open handed attacks,
kicks, elbows and knees are better. Or you could carry a collapsible police
riot baton.
The bit of metal telescoped into a smooth length, and I
struck for the kidneys, neutralizing one of them instantly.
I moved while they were frozen, shattering an elbow and
snapping off a kick at the knee joint, and another one bit the dust. The third
had a white, shocked look to him, and managed to snap off, “Fucker!” and aim a
fist my way.
I met it with the metal rod, the snap of small bones shattering
audible. The must have hurt so badly, the scream stuck in his throat. I looked
at Kristen, and raised an eyebrow in question.
Her eyes were bright and wide, her mouth open in a perfect
O. Kristen, I managed to notice, was all brown. Brown hair, deep brown eyes,
and a much lighter hue of brown skin. She stood perhaps a bit shorter than
Chris, with an athletic build and bearing.
Kristen blinked, then took a step forward and kicked him in
the crotch, using the momentum of her movement and lending her full weight to
the kick. Soccer, I recalled, wincing internally.
I elbowed the head of the first guy I hit, and he fell down.
Kristen was stepping on another set of genitals, and then moved towards me and
kicked the last of them in the balls.
I restrained her from doing more, more afraid for her than
for them. She went wild in my grip, and then relaxed as Christine ran in and
hugged her.
Chris chivvied her into the back seat, and we took off. I
tried not to listen to the girls as I drove, concentrating on the road.
I’m not a walking armory, but I make it a firm rule never to
leave home unarmed. The collapsible baton is my weapon of choice, easily
concealed and not automatically lethal. The idea of reward or punishment in the
afterlife in accordance with your actions and/or beliefs had always struck me
as somewhat ludicrous, a puerile remuneration for the money spent on priests
and pretty temples. Reincarnation, sans the path of enlightenment, had always
held more appeal. Which is to say, when I was really angry, I would attack to
cripple, not to kill. A lifetime of pain and misery was the punishment I sought
to inflict.
Not that I’d been in all that many fights, or put many
people in the hospital. Just twice, actually. Violence is hardly my first choice,
but I don’t hesitate when it’s required. The general reaction in the
‘civilized’ portions of the world to violence and death was puzzling and
self-contradictory, in my opinion. ‘Violence never solves anything’ was the
product of such incredible blindness and self inflicted ignorance… as
naturally, the defeated, dismembered and the slain had no one to speak for them
or recollect.
To me, it was just another tool, if a tool of last resort.
With two encounters in such a short period of time, I had the distinct feeling
that I would have to harden myself to accept much, much more. I was in no wise
inured to violence, but then again, I’d unknowingly signed on for what was,
essentially, a never-ending war. The exigencies of such conflict would
doubtless leave marks. At least I hoped I had one advantage: I didn’t fight
fair.
I didn’t know how Chris would face the fact that a wizard’s
life was not all sugar and roses, but it struck me that Kris would probably do
well. My sister wouldn’t have too much trouble, either, but then again, she
made a sport of killing insects, piecemeal.
I could hear Criss and Cross speaking in more normal tones,
talking about my ‘cool’ car and then house, while I settled the car into the
garage.
I helped Chris out of the rear, then took Kristen’s hand and
helped her stand. I noticed that both of them wore shorts and t-shirt, showing
a lot of skin – and looking wonderful and edible. Kristen’s eyes were a bit
red.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Kristen looked everywhere but my face, “just
peachy.”
“Are you girls hungry?”
Chris smiled knowingly, rubbed her stomach and growled,
eliciting a small smile from Kristen.
“Follow me. I’ll give you the grand tour later.”
They sat at the kitchen table, and I turned my back on them
and activated wizard sight, staggering slightly at the drain. I turned back,
leaned on the back of a chair, and looked.
Kristen blazed brighter than Christine, which was only to be
expected. I raised a brow at Chris, and she nodded vehemently.
“Hey, what is it with you two?” Kristen complained. “I mean,
from what Chris said, I was expecting you to get all smoochie together, not
exchange weird looks.”
“Well, let me show you what it’s about,” I sat down heavily.
“I’ll show you a magic trick, and then you’ll repeat it,” that did seem to be
the easiest way to frame it.
Once again, I made the spell chant loud and precise, and
spellfire erupted from my finger. I broke the spell, and looked at Kristen.
“Now, really,” she spat, obviously skeptical, “that’s not
funny.” She shot Chris a nasty glare.
Chris responded by repeating the spell, letting the flame
dance for a full ten seconds. “No trick, Kris. Try it.”
Kristen gulped, and took a sip of water. She looked at me,
then at Chris, shook her head, and tried it.
It didn’t come as easily for her as it had for Chris, or for
me for that matter. It took more than twenty repetitions before she got it
right.
“The world is a different place now, for you as well, full
of magic and danger,” I told her, and took a big bite out of the tuna sandwich
in front of me, chewing and swallowing. “To break the spell, which is drawing
energy from you, lower your index finger.”
For a while, we ate in silence, letting Kristen digest more
than just food.
“So what other tricks can you do?” Kristen asked.
I looked at her plate, mentally apologized to mom, and
quartered it, cutting it into four exactly equal pieces.
Kristen licked her lips, suddenly uncertain.
“There’s an awful lot more to it, Kris, but I discovered
magic existed nearly a week ago, so don’t expect too much out of me. For Chris,
it was just yesterday. It’s not as simple as the stories. You don’t just wave a
wand and utter a phrase in pig latin. At least, not yet, for us. There’s a full
reality people aren’t aware of. Listen.”
It took over two hours to explain, adding many details that
Chris was also unfamiliar with. I stressed the danger, and the need to gather
together and practice. I answered questions, and showed them the book and
consulted with it when they went bizarre, asking about flying saucers and
little green men. Neither were mentioned in demonic or elemental lore, or
anywhere else for that matter. I showed them and taught them three more first
circle spells.
Then we stopped for lunch, and both girls were bubbly and
animated. It startled me. I didn’t think they were truly unaware of the
dangers, not now that I’d outlined them. Perhaps I was too much on the doom and
gloom side.
I did understand why they were so excited about magic, of
course. It would be much easier for them, for wizards with a connection to an
archwizard, or a potential one, could learn very quickly from their ‘master’,
as the linkage facilitated things.
After lunch, I taught them three more spells, and let them
practice. We sat in the garden, and I began studying with a perfect focus. It
was peaceful, fragrant, lovely, and I had a pair of pretty girls next to me. I
was happier than the usual run of things.
I learned three more minor first circle spells, and then
began to work on breaking the first circle of energy manipulation, studying a
spell that would harden air, to serve as a shield. It could also be used to
choke beings that needed to breathe if you put enough power into it or function
as binding chains, and a greater version of it existed that immobilized air
elementals that were composed of living air.
I also understood the book’s insistence on my learning to
cast the sterility spell. In retrospect, it was obvious. The third circle
ritual was all about sex, and casting a spell while having sex. I had to learn
to separate body and mind as much as was possible during the sex act, and
climax while performing all that was needed to finish the ritual.
After three hours of spell practice for the girls and
learning a new second circle spell for me, I tried to cast it. I called the
girls over, and explained what I was going to try, showing them where I was
going to create a small area of hardened air. I cast the spell successfully,
and staggered back, terribly drained. In the back of my mind, the images that
sustained the foot-sized area of solid air flickered, conflicting with the
wizard sight I maintained.
“Step on it, now,” I managed to speak out, and Chris
squealed in delight as she supported her weight on one foot, standing on
nothing. Kris, impatient to try it, pushed her off and stepped up. Naturally,
Chris just had to push her off it in turn.
With an explosive sigh and a terrible headache stabbing all
through my skull, I released both spells. Having the wizard sight active had
been a lot of help, allowing me to actually see the tiny manipulations of power
our spells created. It was like watching the tiny movements and precise art of
a master jeweler, working with moonbeams and threads of light and flaring
plasma.
“Girls,” I croaked, and coughed to clear my throat, “I don’t
know about you, but I’m starved. We need to practice, but don’t forget that too
much magic can kill us. Be wary, watch the limits of your bodies, and don’t try
too much at once.”
“Yes, daddy,” Kristen quipped, and darted towards the
kitchen. Chris chased her, but all I was up to was doddering behind.
We ate, everyone pausing now and then to cast a little
spell. The girls’ delight was infectious, and I was soon feeling better. I shot
Chris a questioning look, pointing my eyes at Kristen, and Chris hesitated.
After a moment, she pursed her lips and nodded.
We were mostly done, so I rose and said, “Why don’t I show
you around the mansion?”
They were obviously enthusiastic about the idea, and I gave
them the short version of the tour. They ‘ooed’ and ‘aaahed’ over all the
artwork and knickknacks my parents had gathered from all over the world, were
likewise impressed by the technological conveniences, and had trouble believing
the size of the library.
I invited them to sit down in a luxurious sofa, maneuvering
things so that Kristen would be between Chris and me.
“Kristen, I know this must be hard for you, but could you
tell us what the problem with those guys was? They didn’t pick you at random.
Please,” I emphasized as she seemed to curl in on herself, looking determinedly
down at the glass table before her, “we need to know. What threatens you,
threatens us. We’re wizards now, and we’re living on the edge. Chris told you
what happened just last night. There is no real safety for us, and whatever
they did to you is over. You have power now, and soon you’ll have a great deal
of power. One place we really don’t need problem from is ordinary people,
mortals. Oh yes,” I smiled at the abrupt reaction, as both girls sat straight and
looked me in the eyes, “We’re going to live as long as I want us to, so long as
something doesn’t kill us. Time will never touch us. You’ll always be
beautiful,” my smile widened.
“Please, tell us. We NEED to know,” I entreated her.
Chris hugged her shoulders, and I squeezed her hands, and a
few seconds of loaded silence passed.
I could feel her trembling, but she finally decided to open
up, “I… they started bothering me a few months ago. When we played soccer. Just
words, at first, then they started tackling me, grabbing, and calling me names.
Nobody did anything, and it escalated. It got worse and worse, but I managed to
avoid them. When the summer vacation began…” her face wrinkled up, and she
started crying, “they caught me. They hurt me, made me suck them off. Then they
got me again, later. They wanted to do more, but they were afraid, someone was
there. I was avoiding them… I didn’t know what to do. They said their parents
are big shots, nobody would believe me, I didn’t have any proof, they’d kill
me…” she was sobbing, and we made a hug sandwich.
She let it all out, crying harshly, and we held her.
Kristen hiccupped, and said, “there’s another one of them,
there were four.”
“Well,” my voice was icy, “like I said, what threatens you,
threatens us. You recall the spell that allowed you to cut a leaf? When you
learn to apply wizard sight, you’ll be able to do quite a bit more with that
little spell. The bastard will die slowly, and no one will understand what
sliced his liver apart. Now I just need a name…?”
“Rich, that’s what they called him, I don’t know his full
name,” she whispered.
“Does he go to your school?”
“No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”
“Well, if you’re up for it, I can teach you a spell you can
use to put a mental image onto paper, or use to copy something that’s already
written down. With a picture, I’m sure I’ll be able to find him. At the least,
he’ll probably be visiting his ‘mates’ in the hospital.”
“Are you really going to kill him?” Christine asked in a
small voice.
“As I’ve said, Chris, we’re in a war for the sake of our
lives and humanity. If you think I’m going to tolerate any mortal harming one
of my wizards and living to talk about it, well… you’re mistaken. You’re not
really advocating that we allow rapists and would be rapists to walk?”
“Well,” she bit her lip, in such a fetching manner that I
just had to lean forward and kiss her. She started back, but my hand brought
her head back, and we kissed softly for a while.
Kristen broke us up. “Come on guys, you’re crushing me
between you. I need to breath.”
“What was that for?” Chris asked, breathless.
I shrugged, “You just looked too cute for words, good enough
to eat,” I sent her a leer over Kristen’s head.
“Anyway,” Chris coughed, “Wouldn’t that be taking the law
into our own hands?”
I shook my head. “Chris, think. We exist in a layer of the
world that only touches upon ordinary human lives and rules. None of them apply
to us, really. I mean, magical malfeasance?”
The girls smiled, and looked thoughtful.
“Besides, do you really want to see Kristen suffer
interrogations, and the bastards end up with community service, because they’re
young, rich, and white, the fucking salt of the earth, people whose lives we
can’t possibly ruin because of ‘youthful overenthusiasm and misjudgement’?
We’re the beginning of something enormous. If we survive, we’ll remake the
world. No,” I added as they both stared at me skeptically, “I’m not being
egotistic or showing signs of megalomania. I’m not talking about next month,
year or decade. But in a century or two, we’ll have thousands of wizards, and
possibly a few more archwizards. Technology might not catch up to magic, and
even if it does, we can use both, and I just can’t see physical sciences making
an impact on magic. Which does not mean that it’s impossible. Of course, I’m
talking about the very long term. In the short term, we must survive and
prosper. And I don’t think Ms. Cross here will feel good with those fuckers
alive. Right?”
Kristen nodded, her eyes hard, her expression flinty.
“I’m not going to trample on laws just because I can, and
neither should you. But laws and rules aren’t justice, and we, unlike most
people, can afford justice. And retribution, too.”
“Kristen, do you think you’re ready to learn that spell?”
She nodded, and I opened the book for her, and brought her
half a dozen blank sheets of paper and a heapful of refreshments.
“Chris, why don’t we leave her to it?” I winked at her.
“Good idea,” Christine nodded enthusiastically.
“Have fun!” Kris called after us.
8
The fact the her best friend, whom she had a serious case of
lust for, was just a few meters away, and was completely aware of what she was
about, had Christen panting before I so much as touched her.
Her nipples were poking through her thin t-shirt, her
breasts bouncing as she almost dragged me to my bedroom. Sex is mostly in the
mind, I’d read, though I vastly preferred the sweaty physical kind.
We kissed passionately, like we were trying to eat each
other up. Her mouth tasted of the food she’d recently eaten, and I’m sure the
same was true of mine.
As our mouths glued together, our hands were busy tearing
clothes off. We delayed taking off our tops, lips pressing against each other
and tongues entwined, until our wild gyrations caused us to fall on the bed,
and we bounced apart on the springy mattress.
We laughed, looked at each other, and tore the remaining
bits away. Just a shirt for me, but beneath her t-shirt, Chris wore a different
bra, a light green demi-cup that fastened in front. It was very alluring, and I
took her hands away from it, playing with it and tickling her breasts gently
from all directions, until she lost her patience and removed it.
I spent an awful lot of time worshipping her breasts, laving
every bit of skin with tongue and checking them with extraordinary care,
warning Chris that “We need to schedule frequent checks, what with breast
cancer being such a terrible danger.” She just laughed. Such insensible
disregard for medical necessities. Nibbling on her nipples changed laughter to
moans and, “Yes, right there. Oh, play with them. Harder!”
I’d always been attracted to faces, and this fascination
with breasts was quite new. Doubtless, it had to do with availability. Chris’
sultry words encouraged me, and her hard nipples received a thorough chewing
out, naughty things that they were.
Chris squirmed and shivered, her hands pushing me down, her
hips pressing up, bringing her wet mound against me. I turned the descent from
Twin Peaks to River Valley into a tortuous procession of licks, nips and soft
caresses.
By the time I approached her crotch, I was in serious danger
of losing hair and parts of my scalp from the way her clawed fingers were
clutching at my head. I untangled them, restrained her hands at her side, and
pressed my weight on her pelvis, preventing her ass from leaping off the bed.
“Lick me, lick me, do it!” Chris chanted, and I obliged.
Her juices were flowing, and I fastened on her clit,
tonguing and lipping determinedly, until her shrieks filled the room, and she
convulsed strongly enough to lift both of us from the mattress.
I released her wrists and grabbed her ankles, raising them
and spreading her open and wide.
Her red, glistening pussy was leaking juices down her
crease, wetting the wrinkled rosette of her anus and dripping down to gather on
the sheets. I cast a quick first circle spell, and cleaned her asshole.
I used one hand to hold her thighs up and keep them spread
wide, keeping her delightfully soft behind upturned. This was a precious opportunity
to investigate, and that is exactly what I did.
“What are you doooing?” Chris moaned as I inserted a finger
into her tight little hole, probing about. Another finger soon joined it, and I
began moving them in and out rhythmically, occasionally pausing at the nadir to
flex and curl about. She tried to raise her butt, but my hand kept her in
position.
“Oh, yeah!” her voice grew stronger, “Fuck me with your
fingers! Lick me! Oh, right there, again!”
In the space of minutes, I’d worked her into incoherent
mumbles and moans again, her fingers digging into the sheets. As my fingers
worked her pussy with metronomic precision, I licked up juices down her
perineum, and began tonguing circles around her winking asshole, spiraling
down.
“God!” Chris shrieked, “That’s so dirty! I love it! Stick
your tongue in my ass! Fin…” her voice broke into a whining wail as I followed
orders.
Her ass muscles rippled, pussy pulsing down on my fingers,
and I continued to stimulate her, fingerfucking her pussy and tonguefucking her
ass. Her orgasm struck like a breaking tsunami, and she almost broke my nose,
hurling my face away. I quickly returned, trying to heighten her pleasure by
sticking a finger in her ass and closing lips on her clit, and she screamed
like all the tortured souls of the damned, like a fire siren, a rising and
falling falsetto wail.
And then she stopped, going
limp. I halted my ministrations, suddenly worried. I climbed up her body,
unable to resist a quick kiss on a proudly protruding pink nipple, and looked
into her eyes.
Chris’ green eyes were
unfocused and her mouth sagged open, drool collecting on her chin. It was a
moment before she recognized me, and the weak smile stretching on her face
seemed to require an awful lot of effort. I realized that I was rubbing myself
against her, her smooth soft skin feeling wonderful against my throbbing
erection, and had an idea.
I kissed her softly on the
lips, giving her back some of her own juices, and collected the saliva from her
chin and rubbed that hand on the side of the bed, wiping my fingers clean on
the sheet. I whispered in her ear, and she perked up a bit, nodding with a sexy
look on her face.
“You just about killed me,” Chris whispered hoarsely, “you
certainly deserve a reward.”
I sat down on her belly, my sweat dripping down on her. I’d
read about how messy sex was supposed to be, but it was still a surprise.
Though strictly speaking, we hadn’t had sex yet, and won’t for quite some time.
Frustrating, but there were still possibilities.
I advanced upwards, and settled my cock between the mounds
of her breasts. Grabbing them, I pressed them inward, increasing the friction
against my hot erection, and began to fuck her tits. It wasn’t as good as her
mouth had been, but after a few thrusts, she raised her head and caught my
glans with her tongue, and later her lips. Her soft, bountiful breasts were
heavenly, and I began to move faster, thrusting harder, my hands on her breasts
pressing more strongly. There was no need to restrain myself, and I came hard,
shooting on her face and into her opened mouth with a shout of my own. My
belated attempt to cast the second circle sterilization spell fizzled.
I rolled off her, moved back to remain in physical contact,
and let my breathing settle.
“That was so, so good,” Chris said after she’d finish
cleaning her face, swallowing the spend. Her hand reaching for me and squeezed
mine. “You spend more time down there than my doctor does,” she added.
“Ha! You have doctor fantasies, don’t you, young lady,” I
quipped, “You want the evil medical genius to strap you to the examination
table, and shove throbbing probes where the sun doesn’t shine, right?” I asked,
bringing my hand back to her pussy, rubbing.
“Oh, you nasty, evil thing, you,” Chris blurted.
“Say, Chris, I’m going to make a big order today.”
“Order?” she asked, confused. “Food?”
“No, though I will have to restock the way you pigs eat it
up, Ouch!” she pinched me, “No, I’m going to order up lots and lots of sex
toys. We need to spice up our sex life,” I added in a bland tone.
“Spice up?!” Chris started giggling. “You’re a maniac. How
will we learn any magic, spending all day in bed humping like rabbits? And what
about poor Kris? She’ll be so lonely.”
“Well, we could always seduce her. Why don’t we start
working on it today?” I suggested. “Let’s go for a swim, and you can forget to
wear anything. Steal my Speedos later, to make things ‘even’, and we’ll see how
she reacts. A bit of water sport might do some good.”
“Ahem,” she pondered the matter, “Sounds good. It’ll feel so
utterly, deliciously wicked to walk around naked. I’ll definitely do it! But I
do need some support, you know. You guys may love big tits, but they can really
hurt. You don’t want them reaching my bellybutton in a few months, now do you?”
“You’re forgetting something, Chris,” I grinned at her.
“Physical enhancements, remember? In a month, you’ll be fitter than anything
human. You’ll never sag, and you’ll stop needing support. You’ll be even more
glorious. I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive that.”
“Oh!” she turned thoughtful, considering things.
“You know,” Chris turned on her side towards me, her heavy
breasts jiggling, and looked at me intently, “you sounded awfully
anti-authority, earlier.”
“I did?” I moved closer, using one hand to support my
position and the other to play with her tits. “I’m not, not really. The
establishment is necessary. Though the Justice System has nothing to do with
justice, it does keep a modicum of order, and that’s nothing to sneer at. It’s
better than nothing. Just consider the alternatives. I don’t have a better
answer. From the outside, it looks awfully simple, but look at it from the
inside, and it’s fiendishly complicated. Just take a look at the shelf space
laws and regulations occupy, and you’ll have some idea.”
“I don’t know, I just thought about it. You know, I’m
awfully scared. I mean, killing people, elementals and demons, and I’m falling
in love with you,” she looked me, a vulnerable expression on her face, eyes
waiting.
It was a bolt out of the blue.
“Christine, I care about you deeply, and I like you a lot.
I’d like to remind you that you saved my life yesterday, displaying not only
incredible bravery, but impossible presence of mind. I don’t believe I could
have done half as well. I don’t know what love is, but by all the gods, if you
asked for the moon, I’d find a way to give it to you!”
I’d managed to shock both of us, and we just stared at each
other for a timeless moment. Bladder pressure made me move, planting a swift
kiss on her lips, “Bathroom!” and moving off.
I thought over what I’d said, and just couldn’t find fault
with it. It was the bare truth. I may be awfully vindictive, but I try to make
sure that I’m just as good a friend as I make a bad an enemy. I didn’t really
know what I felt towards Chris, but she was certainly precious to me. Love was
such a cheap word today, that I was very wary of using it. Every third song
wailed away about ‘love, love, love’, if not quite as well as the Beatles did.
I was a not very deep in the closet romantic, and I admitted that to myself, if
not to anyone else. I mean, I’d actually read some of those bodice rippers
everyone loves to diss. Every guy, at least.
I walked back to my bedroom, trying to think of how to avoid
an open heart to heart talk, which would be about as welcome as open heart
surgery.
Chris, eyes shining, jumped me with a kiss, and then leaned
down and started to play with the fellow down there.
“Oh, it’s so cute, all wilted like that!” she kissed it. And
then she kissed it again, and took it into her mouth. It was starting to wake
up.
“Chris, please,” I couldn’t believe I was doing this,
actually foregoing a blowjob, but… “Kristen is probably getting lonely, and we
did want to work on her. Besides,” I added slyly, “I’m sure she’s pretty
anxious to find out that you’re still alive and whole, after all the
screaming.”
“Beast!” Christine said, “You see,” she addressed my cock,
“he doesn’t like you like I do. He likes Kristen better. Why don’t you stay
with me?”
“Very funny, sweet,” I levered her up, “now why don’t we
wash up, eat and rehydrate. We left a lake in my bed,” I pointed.
She giggled, and walked with me to the shower. We ended up
cleaning each other very thoroughly, and Chris insisted that tongue baths were
an absolute necessity. I’d created a monster. I gave her another orgasm or
three, trying to reach her womb with my tongue, and she gave me a blowjob that
left me very weak in the knees. Chris actually apologized that she couldn’t
deep throat, yet. Gods and demons!
We were just as thorough about toweling each other dry, and
Chris wrinkled her nose when I put on a pair of Speedos.
Kristen looked at us with a big grin on her face, which
transformed into a shocked stare when she really saw Christine.
“You’re not wearing anything!”
“We sort of noticed,” Christine replies dryly. “It’s not
like you haven’t seen me before,” Chris smiled, fingering the bare lips of her
sex, “and I don’t have anything HE hasn’t seen, either. Hell, he’s felt me up
on the inside. I swear, I thought his tongue was going to come right back out
of my throat!”
Kristen’s skin may have been light brown, but the furious
blush was still quite visible. “Chris!” she choked out, “What’s come over you?”
“Well,” Chris grinned wickedly, sashaying over to a chair,
breasts jiggling and bouncing, “it’s more like what came ALL over me, and in
me. No, not there,” she replied to the flabbergasted look her friend shot her,
“at least not yet.”
To top that, before sitting down at the table, Chris stuck a
finger into her pussy, took it out, and licked it like a popsicle, in and out
of her mouth.
We sat down, and started eating, and Chris added, “You
really need to try it, Kris, with someone who knows what they’re doing. It’s so
good, I thought I was dying. Five, six times, I sort of lost count. Anyway, you
up for a swim after a bit more spell practice, to settle the food down, Kris?”
Kris nodded dumbly, and ate like a doll with half its
strings cut, stopping every few bites to stare at Chris, then at me, then back
at Chris. Who had trouble avoiding an attack of the giggles.
We settled down back to spell practice, and they absorbed
new spells at a startling rate. At this rate, I’d soon have nothing new to
teach them. I did my very best to stay ahead, noting wryly that pride was a
wonderful motivator to excel. As I did, my worries faded away. Mastering new
first circle spells of the circles of life and energy manipulation actually
came more easily to me than the girls found the spells I taught them. Breaking
circles suddenly assumed a new importance, and I determined to break the first
circle of transmutation in the next day or two, and then work on completing all
three first order circles.
Twilight had fallen by the time I called for a break, and we
went to the pool. The interior of the covered pool was lit by means of a mesh
that contained hundreds of tiny lights, which lent the place a seeming of
starlight or faerie-lights, a particularly ingenious design mother picked.
Kristen just shucked her t-shirt and shorts, and wore a
bikini beneath. I couldn’t not look, and saw that she was sleek and very well
built, her breasts about half the size of Chris’, with ass and legs to die for.
I was starting to grow somewhat aroused, which would be very
noticeable in the little I was wearing, so I jumped in and started doing laps,
swimming free-style. The girls were huddled together, and I noticed that Chris
made sure to have her tits bob above the waterline.
I joined them after a few minutes, feeling the effort, and
caught Chris from behind, by her breasts. She squealed and turned around.
“Now you’re going to get it!” She dived down, and divested
me of the Speedos, swimming away with it held triumphantly above her head.
“Nyah, nyah, can’t get me,” Chris taunted as I swam for her
and she tossed them over to Kristen.
After some chase and toss, I swam in behind Kristen and
grabbed her, deliberately pressing my crotch into her behind. “I’ve got a
hostage, thief. So give it back!” Kristen was shouting, laughing, and struggling
in my hands, which gave me all the more opportunity to touch her all over.
“Stop it, you pervert,” she tried to elbow me, and Chris
tossed the limp bathing suit out of the pool, joining in an attack on me. We
squirmed, tickled, and grabbed for a while, water-wrestling, before I sent
Kristen face first into Chris’ cleavage. I did not try to rip her bikini off,
though I did consider it.
The girls hugged, and we silently declared truce. “How about
the hot tub?” I suggested, and they agreed that the idea made excellent sense.
We relaxed for a while in silence, letting the surging water
massage our muscles.
“Well, girls, we need to co-ordinate. As you know, we need a
ritual to bring me up to snuff, and then I’ll be able to take care of you, too.
For that, I need to buy a new house, and build up a few shrines. I’ve got a
meeting with realtors, nearly one a day for the next few days. Now, I’ve
created a number of fictitious identities. Kristen, Chris told you I’m a
computer whiz?”
She nodded, staring at me, obviously wondering what other
revelations I was going to unleash on her poor defenseless self. It was that
sort of stare.
“If you two could come along, perhaps one of you playing the
wife, it might help. That’s the safehouse we’ll be spending a lot of time in,
so the more input you contribute, the better you’ll like it. Now, to get you
away from your parents and keep you in my evil clutches, I have an idea.
Kristen, I don’t expect you to tell your parents about what happened, but a
story that resembles that might help. Would you be willing to tell them that
you were nearly raped today, and I saved you? That the rapist ran away, that
you didn’t recognize him, but you’re afraid now. That you just know that he’ll
come after you again, and that you want to be elsewhere, just in case. The fact
that Christine will stay with us should make this palatable to your parents.
And as for your parents, Chris, Matt could vouch for me, and they’ll surely
understand that you need to stay with your friend. It’s close enough to the
truth, so it’s the best sort of story. What do you think?”
The girls exchanged enigmatic looks.
“Fiendish,” Chris said, and Kristen nodded. “That’s how you
build lies, hah? Take the truth, twist it, and add a bit of garnish?”
“Yep, that’s the best sort,” I nodded.
“So, how have you lied to us?” Kristen said, looking
uncomfortable.
“I’m withholding information you don’t need, and wouldn’t
want to know in any case,” I responded with perfect equanimity.
They didn’t look very happy with that, but I refused to
elaborate.
“One other thing we need to deal with is self defense.
You’re woefully undertrained, and you need to start studying martial arts and
weapons. There’s a spell that can imbue bullets with the power to deal harm to
elementals, and most demons can simply be shot. Martial arts are not just for
defensive purpose, or offensive, as may be the case, but it will also help you
with self-discipline, fitness and confidence. I can teach you myself, but I
think it would be better if you signed up for a class. I can arrange that, and
I can take you to a range and fix you up with weapons. This is vital. That is
the sort of training that will save your lives. Spells aren’t everything. It’s
the mental preparedness you need to have, the situational awareness and instant
reactions. We’re all soldiers in a nasty, dirty, terrible war, and you need the
training. We can go to the range Friday, after looking at a house. Will you do
it?”
They were silent for a long time following this, but
finally, they agreed.
“What does your book say about that?” Kristen asked.
I turned around, and there it was. “Where did it come
from?!” the girls wanted to know. “But you’re wet!” Chris shouted, “Not on the
book!”
“Relax, Chris. A book of wizardry cannot be damaged, so long
as the archwizard or potential archwizard it is attached to exists. It appears
whenever I have need of it.”
Opening the book, I learned, and related to the girls, that
there existed advanced forms of martial arts that only wizards could employ, as
they required immense magical power – for equally devastating results. The book
informed us that the mortal arts provided a sound basis, and recommended that
we learn such before attempting to master the greater forms, the least of which
required the fourth circle enhancement.
“Imagine dodging or catching bullets, without actually
casting a spell,” I shook my head at the little presentation the book provided,
“shattering walls with your fist, kicking cars a hundred meters into the air.
Seeing the possibilities of the immediate future and navigating them. Feeling
the air and earth in all directions. Jedi masters suddenly don’t look too
impressive.”
The girls laughed at the reference.
“Kristen, Chris said you can stay the night. Is that
correct?”
She nodded.
“Good. Do you work?”
“Fast food,” she didn’t sound too enthusiastic.
“Quit. If you need money, you won’t need to ask. I’ll give
you a credit card next week, and I have one for you here and now Christine.
Remind me to hand it over, and please don’t buy just for the sake of buying. We
want to remain unnoticed, and in a worst case scenario, we’ll need to move
mighty fast. I already have a few preparations for that sort of thing, but
they’ll need to be adjusted to incorporate the magical elements. Don’t get
attached to possessions.”
“You…” Kristen hesitated for a moment. “You sound like a
wanted criminal.”
“Criminal, but not wanted. I have my own money, remember,
and a lot of it. You don’t get that rich that quickly without inheriting or
engaging in shady maneuvers, or winning the lottery… or using magic. My parents
are alive and well, and my grandparents left everything to them, so it had to
be criminal enterprise. Never mind the details. Real lack of need to know,” I
smiled thinly.
“But…” she hesitated.
“No, it’s nothing dirty or evil, pure economic fraud,” I
explained.
“Oh. Like identity and credit theft?” she asked, “but that’s
stealing directly from people!”
“No, sweet, it’s industrial espionage and stock market
manipulation. It doesn’t feel like stealing when the entity is corporate,” I
semi-explained.
“Come on, Kris,” Christine hugged her, pressing her naked
body against her friend, “it’s like stealing from banks. Nobody gets hurt, and
nobody likes banks. Logan is careful.” She kissed her on the cheek, sliding
over to catch the edge of her lips. “It’s okay, if not legit.”
Kristen looked lost for a moment, then shook her head.
“Whatever. What do we do now? I don’t think I’m up for more spells. I feel
kinda hollow, even with all the food.”
“No,” I agreed, “no more spells. I will teach you one more
ritual before we collapse, one that ensures good and restful sleep. You’ll wake
up feeling like a tiger on steroids, and it’ll be real. What do you want to do?
Could I abandon you two for a couple of hours? I need to check on
correspondence, and make some orders.”
Kristen noticed Chris blushing. “Orders? What sort of
orders?” her voice carried an intrigued tone.
Chris tried to kick me, but that didn’t work too well in the
water. “Why, didn’t she tell you?” I asked innocently. “Chris decided we needed
to spice up our sex life, so…”
“Bastard! It’s not like that,” Chris retaliated, “He wants
to stick all sorts of buzzing things into me, it gets the creep off big time.”
“You mean…” Kris started.
“Yep, a selection of sex toys. I could order you some
outrageous outfits too. Want to help order?”
She blushed visibly, and leaned back in the water, turning
the jets on to high.
“Is it good?” I asked.
“Good?” Chris asked, puzzled.
“Oh, you didn’t know? Kristen is just enjoying herself with
the water.”
Chris reached for her friend’s pussy, actually touching her
down there and moving her hand on it, and Kristen jerked back in shock,
“Chris!”
“Just checking,” Chris shrugged, her breasts jiggling and
attracting my attention. I leaned forward, and began to nibble on a nipple, and
Kristen shook her head, and started to rise.
When we turned to look at her, she crossed her arms and said
defensively, “If you’re gonna start spanking, and then the oral sex, I’m sooo
outa here.”
“Don’t worry,” I told her, withdrawing from my favorite new
pacifier, “just the spanking, for now.”
Chris giggled, and motioned her down.
We relaxed in silence for a few minutes, before Chris
decided that she was getting parboiled.
We rubbed towels all over each other, and even helped
Kristen get dry, after a quick application of cold water, to wash away the
chlorine.
I left the girls in a sitting room, and Chris flashed me a
wink, so I had some idea of what they were going to ‘discuss’.
First thing, I handled the correspondence, the usual flood
of e-mails. Recalling the need for delegating whatever I could, I gave serious
thoughts to finding someone to handle my, which I supposed could now be called
our, investments. That would be a task for next week, and it shouldn’t be too
hard to accomplish. Look for younger college students with the highest grades,
and educate one of them concerning magic, after a small series of interviews.
Even without the full bonding, the loyalty spell should suffice to prevent her
from running off with my money. Especially after she understood a bit more
about magic – and about me.
Next, I ordered a lot of sex toys of every description. Some
of the offerings were quite astonishing. The brief shopping trip gave me just a
few too many ideas, and Chris’ words concerning the possible conflict between
sex and studying magic returned to mind. I’d have to start working harder on
willpower.
Then, I checked into police and hospital record for the
three cripples we’d left on the ground. Finding them was ridiculously easy, and
I traced them back to their high school, thereby locating Rich-ard. I’d taken a
look at the drawing Kristen had left, and I’ll just have to make the time and
take care of all of them, exactly as they deserved. I’d much prefer to leave
them alive and crippled, but I… no, we didn’t need that kind of distraction.
Making a note to clip the obituaries for Kristen, I tentatively scheduled
Saturday or Sunday night for that little affair.
I left a message for Dan, adding a pair of students to the
beginner’s class, and went shopping again after ordering a credit card for
Kris. This time, for another pair of trikes of the model I used, and made sure
they’d be ready for us tomorrow. The girls needed transportation, and in the
city a safe bike was the optimal choice. At least, until we mastered flight or
teleportation. I did wonder why transportation magics were forbidden, and
concluded that in all probability, they utilized other dimensions to ‘leap
through’, and thereby left holes in the fabric of reality that demons could
break through more easily. It made sense, but the book refused to comment on
the subject. Taking care of registration, insurance, and the like, took a bit
more time.
Done for the nonce, I went back to where I’d left the girls.
I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I’d forgotten how quietly I moved.
“Ok, enough already,” Kristen groan, “So he’s got a tongue
longer than the Eiffel tower and a dick bigger than Kilimanjaro, I got it
already. I can’t believe you’re willing to share your boyfriend, jeeze.”
Christine whispered something. “Yeah, alright, over the
weekend, if the story works. If not, I’m stuck.”
“He’ll think of something else, I’m sure, he’s good at
that.”
“Who is good at what?” I deliberately made a noise as I
approached.
“If Kris’ parents don’t buy the story, you’ll think of
another way. We’ll need something anyway, it won’t hold forever.”
“True. Listen, first thing tomorrow morning, we’ll have a
couple of bikes delivered here, three wheeled like mine, for you two. Chris,
here’s your credit card,” I handed it to her and she took it, looked at it, and
shouted “Wow!”
I caught her when she jumped on me, and twirled her around,
bussed her on the mouth, and put her back on her feet.
“We’ll spend the morning getting you comfortable on the
trikes. You need transportation, and in the city, bikes are more effective, and
this one’s very easy to use and very safe. Then you’ll handle your parents, and
we’ll go shopping for a house. On Thursday, I’ve signed you up for a beginner’s
class in martial arts. Oh, and I ordered approximately a ton of sex toys.”
Chris tried to hit me, but I caught her fist and twisted her
around, bringing her down on me as I sat down.
“Lemmee gooo!” she screamed.
“Now, Kristen, if I recall correctly, you said the spanking
comes before the oral sex, right?” I looked into her brown eyes and the gamin
grin forming on her face, and brought a hand down on Christine’s buttock.
“Ouch! Monster! Demon! Kris, flame him!”
I didn’t hit her very hard at all, and I made sure to
massage her behind following each loud strike, paying especial attention to the
area between her legs. Before long, her behind was as red as her hair, and as
red as her face, and she was squirming like mad and leaking like a faucet.
After the first few shrieks and shouted threats, she’d gone
quiet, wriggling her behind like a worm hooked on a gaff.
“My, my, but she does seem to like the spanking. Wonder how
she’ll take the oral sex. What do you think, Kris? Wanna give it a try?”
Kristen was staring, fascinated, and she obviously wanted to
get in on the spanking, but finally shook her head timidly.
“Well, Chris, she doesn’t want to play with your ass, so
it’s all mine,” I dug a lubricated finger into her ass, another two into her
pussy, and used my thumb to stimulate her clit. Not quite a minute of that, and
she shook in orgasm, yelling loudly. Kristen jumped to her feet, and then shook
her head, in wonder this time, staring absorbedly.
I released Chris and lifted her, setting her down on my
thigh, her pussy pressing against the muscle.
She looked dazed, but was slowly coming around. “Bastard,”
she murmured, and looked down. I lifted her chin up, and kissed her hard. She
responded, pressing her entire body against me, humping my leg.
“Well, before the oral sex, I need to teach you the sleep
well meditation. Just look at the book,” I took it from where it appeared,
opened it, and let them study.
“Good night, Kristen. Use any of the guest rooms you like.”
I took Christine by the hand, and led her back to another
guest room. My bed was probably still wet.
The oral sex was very good indeed, and we went to sleep
quite satisfied. Sleeping with someone else was a novelty, but it was Chris and
she was soft and cuddly, and the spell ritual allowed me to fall asleep without
any problem whatsoever.
9
Waking up to the smell and warmth of Christine was
absolutely lovely. She looked so terribly cute sleeping, her mouth scrunched up
like that, and with the little noises she was making.
Disentangling myself without waking her was a delicate task,
but I managed it. I’d read about it somewhere (well, at least one place), and I
meant to wake her with a kiss and some tongue action, down there. But she began
to stir, and opened her eyes before I got the chance. I was sure I’d get a
chance to try it some other time.
Chris opened her eyes gradually, and slowly blinked the
sleep away. She stretched like a cat, and smiled widely once she managed to
focus on me. “Morning,” she stretched again and seemed to consider, “No, it’s
GOOD morning. Damned good morning, at that. I feel so awake, so clear. What’s
the expression? Bright eyed and bushy tailed?” she gave a little snort of
amusement.
“Quite. Such a lovely tail, too,” I squeezed her ass.
Chris was built on a lavish scale, and lush and voluptuous
were the appropriate words to describe her. She was not fully grown, but she
definitely wasn’t going to get any smaller, which was all to the good.
“We’re up awfully early,” she said teasingly, “so much time
to spare. Wanna try sixty-nine?” her tone raised goose bumps on my skin, and
she pointedly raised and settled her tush on the bed, spreading her legs. The
coppery triangle of her pubic her was like a raised red flag, and the bull couldn’t
help but respond.
“Actually, not particularly. I mean, maybe you’re more
disciplined than I am, and can keep your attention on your cock sucking duties
when your world is exploding around you, but you’re so damned talented, deep
throat or no, that I’d be doing you a grave disservice. We can try it, sure,
but I’d much rather give you the full treatment now. You’re so,” I ran a finger
over her pussylips, “so very tasty.”
We left 69ing for another day, and tried to replay last
night. Judging by the way Chris expressed her pleasure, over and over again, I
did my part. Certainly, I had no complaints. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to
get the sterility spell off this time, either.
Kristen was waiting for us in the kitchen, having already
put some food on the table.
She shook her head reprovingly at us, “You know, Chris,
that’s not the most pleasant way to wake up. I almost panicked, what with all
the screaming. You’re so LOUD, girlfriend.”
“Heh,” Chris took a bite out of an apple, “you’re just
jealous. I bet you’d bring the walls down, too.”
“Ha, you’re on! But what do you want to bet?”
“Well, if you win you get Logan for a night, all to
yourself.”
“And if I lose?”
“You spend a night helping test all those toys, as a
training aid,” Chris’ grin took on a wicked bent.
“You’re on!”
“Ah,” I coughed, “Don’t I have a say in this?”
“Nope,” the girls answered in unison, before looking at each
other and laughing.
Well, I was obviously outvoted. We spent much of breakfast
practicing spells, and learning a few new ones, and I began to study two new
second circle spells. The first, to break the first circle of transmutation,
conjured a patch of slick grease (actually changing air into said grease, not
creating it out of nothing), and the other was the closest thing to a battle
spell the book could provide, a spell that would allow me to hurl a small bolt
of eldritch flames.
Besides eating and practicing spells, I directed the
conversation to the tactical uses of the little spells the girls and I had
mastered, conjuring up a score of ‘what if’ scenarios, drawing on the book for
examples of demons and elemental beasts. I thought this would make for an
excellent morning tradition, letting us learn of the nature of the foe, and
thinking up creative uses for spells ahead of time, hopefully a time of need
that would never arise.
“Girls, your new bikes will be delivered in an hour or two,
and I’ve already ordered a credit card for you, Kristen. I’ve also thought of
an idea that would allow you to spend the summer, and perhaps more, with me. I
do hope your parents are serious about education?”
“Yes,” Chris nodded, and Kristen asked, “So what’s your
scheme like?”
“I don’t know about you two, but another year of high school
is just about all I can handle. It’s just so boooring, and a terrible waste of
time we might not have to spare. After your enhancements, you’ll be able to
digest an entire school year’s material in a week or less, and it shouldn’t
take you more than a month or three to finish a degree, online. We need to
convince your parents, and this will all be above board, that you want, and
will, test out of high school after this next year, and finish degrees
thereafter. The fact that they won’t have to pay for anything might make them
happy, but it’ll also make them suspicious. Quite frankly, you two are best
suited to twisting your parents around your little fingers. Do you think you’ll
be able to handle it?”
“Yeah, but my dad will most definitely want the details, and
he’ll insist on paying,” Chris said.
“That’s just fine, and we can sit down next week and think
up a presentation for him. Remind me, please, Chris. There are so many things,
that sometimes my mind’s all in a whirl.”
“My parents will be awfully surprised,” Kristen admitted,
“I’m not exactly an A student.”
“Chris, can you help her there? Do her parents know you? Can
your father help?”
Chris seemed a bit overwhelmed, but finally nodded. “Yeah,
they know I’m more the scholarly type than Kris here,” who just shrugged when
we looked at her, “and I think we can make it work. She’ll have to dazzle them
a bit with what she’s learned, of course. But first we need to put on the ‘I’m
afraid’ act, Kris.”
Kris looked very downcast, “I’m not much of an actor,
really.”
“But you won’t be acting, not really,” Chris tried to cheer
her up, “you’ll be telling the truth mostly, remember.”
“I’ve got something of a disguise kit,” I added, “so we can
paint on some spectacular bruises.”
They were staring at me.
“I’ve made it a habit to collect skills that might be
useful, and I must say that magic can really help. Watch.”
Simple spells, but the transformation was remarkable, if the
girls’ expressions were any judge. Just adding facial hair and changing the
colour… of everything. From somewhat tanned skin, to burnished bronze, from
brown eyes to glittery blue, from dark hair to bright gold.
“Holy moly! Hey, Chris, we know those spells. Let’s see how
you look as a brunette.”
I realized my mistake instantly. For over an hour, they
primped, mirror gazed, gossiped about who would look ‘just fabulous’ with hair
of this or that hue, or just that skin tone. I made a tactical retreat, and
dealt with the day’s financial business and message traffic, sincerely hoping
they’d remember what they’d looked like before all the polychromatic
shapechange games. Matt might just notice if I returned a blue haired and
silver skinned Christine.
Approaching apprehensively, I saw on my return to the
kitchen that I needn’t have worried. Looking as good as old, they were eating
ravenously, looking worn. Obviously, they’d forgotten the price of magic – or
rather, the price student wizards had to pay. I wondered, briefly, what an
archwizard had to pay for access to pure elemental power.
“Girls, you look as lovely as ever…” I looked more closely,
“except that you seem to have mislaid a few freckles, Chris. It’s time for some
driving practice, as your bikes should be here soon. I’ll give you a complete
overview using mine, and you can start practicing immediately.”
Kristen leaped from her chair, eyes shining, “Come on, let’s
go!”
Showing them how to drive and take care of the bike was
simplicity itself, and I left them arguing over who was going to go next, after
each of them had made one circle on the asphalt. “I’ll be in the pool, if you need
me. Try not to break anything.”
Chris waved absently, as she looked at Kristen revving up
the motor.
I picked up a large tray of food, and went to practice the
fourth truly effective combat spell I hoped I’d shortly have in my arsenal. The
pool was really the only place I could practice throwing balls of wizardfire,
as stone and cement just did not stand up to it too well. According to the
book, even the water in the pool wouldn’t be enough for more than a dozen
application of the spell, but all I was hoping for were one or three. As long
as the food lasted, that is.
It turned out that I needed more time to study the spell,
and I was interrupted by the delivery of the girls’ new wheels. They were very
excited, and I even collected a wet kiss from Kristen.
Two more hours of work, and I managed to vaporize a
significant volume of water from our pool, and had to escape (with the food) to
avoid being scalded. Obviously, I really needed to build a secure and
invulnerable spell practice chamber. Unfortunately, that was quite a ways
beyond my present skills. At least I had the spell down, I thought on the
positive side as I sat in the garden, knees weak, and ate. The sound of motors
running showed that Criss and Cross were still gleefully playing with their new
toys.
I collected another bounty of kisses when I interrupted them
for lunch, and then we began thespian practice with Kristen. She certainly
hadn’t exaggerated her talents in the area, but reminding her of what had
happened, as sour as it made my stomach feel, helped a lot. The girls actually
refused my offer to fetch the disguise kit, “Really, Logan, if we can colour
our skin and hair, we can paint realistic looking bruises without any nasty
actual paint, or makeup.”
Christine was right, and it worked perfectly. She had this
annoying habit of making me feel stupid, something which always left me
irritable. I made a mental note to bleeding well remember that Chris was smart,
and to consult with her when possible. I thought I’d escaped mental conditioning,
but obviously, I’d been mistaken. ‘Pretty girl’ equals ‘brainless bimbo’ was
just so, so wrong, and that’s one trap I really didn’t want to fall into.
Theoretically, I knew better. On second thought, it was more likely that I
simply wasn’t used to anyone trumping my ideas, and I’d gotten mentally lazy
and blasé, just when I could least afford the luxury.
Fortunately, Chris was too involved to notice how perturbed
I’d become, or I’d managed to keep a poker face. I, very reluctantly, gave both
girls my cell phone number and admonished them to use it only when truly
necessary, and never to give it away. The rolled eyes and dramatic sighs showed
that the message hadn’t truly gotten through, but perhaps a few spankings would
take care of that.
At least they were willing to try extra cautious on their
very first driving experience. We drove in column formation to the bank, and I
spent half an hour idling by while the girls cornered Matt. I spent the time
ordering and consuming some fast food, and cast the wizard sight spell. I
wanted to see what there was to see.
BIG mistake.
Three teenagers, whispering over their meals, were not
teenagers. They weren’t human, either. I could see through the spider web thin
illusions covering them, and they were ugly. As in, crawled out from under a
rotten log, climbed all the way up the ugly tree, slipped, fell, and hit every
ugly branch on the way down before landing in the putrid muck. There was
nothing cute about all that ugly, either. It was warty troll-crone disgusting.
You could almost feel the psychic stench wafting off. The bubbly, oozing,
suppurating skin made me clench my throat shut, to avoid spewing everything in
my stomach out on the serving tray.
Not that I had time for such luxuries. They’d turned around
to look at me, and I cast, desperately, aiming for their distorted interiors
and what I guessed were their vital organs, and sliced. Again and again.
I was down on the floor before I consciously thought about
it, and something whispered through the space my head occupied an instant ago.
I looked about for other demons, and noticed a twisted claw-like foot, somehow
sheathed not in illusion, but inside human flesh. I cut, and the monster fell.
I cut again, and again.
I could see the life leaving it, and then a flash of power.
It was just gone, not even ashes left. A quick reconnoiter showed nothing
suspicious.
“Hey, you alright?” a man who’d been busy reading a
financial paper asked.
“Yeah,” I forced a smile, “just dropped a coin.”
The expression on his face evinced doubt, but he went right
back to his paper. People just didn’t want to get involved, in general.
A look at the booth the three demons had occupied showed
absolutely nothing. And no one had noticed anything.
I was beginning to understand exactly why the Conclave
hadn’t risen from the ashes. But why hadn’t the book told me about those
illusion sheathes, or their ability to wear human shells? The fact that demons
could be just about everywhere? How far did the infiltration go?
These
demons are of unfamiliar breeds, with unknown capabilities was the inadequate
explanation. I wanted to scream, but I was still in combat mode, adrenaline
pumping, looking wildly about. I also had a newly excavated pit in my stomach.
I bit my lip, hard, and forced myself to breathe easily… and
ordered another full tray, moving to a corner table, where I’d be able to see
anything and anyone that came in. With an emphasis on the ‘anything’. I was
starting to rethink my stance on not letting ‘them’ frighten me. I was plenty
frightened. I was also considering the sort of collateral damage a battle with
real magic would cause… even the minor sort of real magic I had at my
fingertips. The ball of fire I could throw wasn’t much… but it was enough to
collapse walls and make cars explode movie-fashion.
Information was something I needed most of all. There was a
nest of demons in the city, at least one. Those had been two different sorts of
demons, call them Pustule demons and Grasshopper demon. I had a hunch there
were lots of insectoid varieties, and I’d run out of words eventually, even if
I turned to binomial nomenclature.
I needed the where, how many, and what they could do. Most
especially, I needed to know if holding concentration on wizard sight was
something they would notice, as opposed to activating it. If they were able to
separate me from the human herd, I wouldn’t last long. If I was able to
separate them, I had a decent chance of driving them out of my city, even in
the short term.
I didn’t think it was the smart thing to do. It was, quite
possibly, suicidal. But I couldn’t just leave the demons free to finish
whatever nefarious plans they were working on, any more than I could stop
learning magic. The smart thing would be to hole up, study like mad, and act
after the first enhancement ritual. Or the second, or third, or last. When I
was ready. But if I did wait, I just might never be ready. Excuses were always
easy to find. After all, the world had managed just fine before super-me
arrived on the scene.
I sat there, eating and looking for the next demon, until my
cell phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Chris wanted to know where
the hell I was.
“Encounter, I’ll be right up.”
Walking around with wizard sight active was like stepping
through a bed of blazing coals, feeling needles pricking every bit of skin,
especially just there behind the neck. I tried to keep my back to the wall, and
unobtrusively look everyone over. I’m pretty sure I didn’t manage the
unobtrusive part, but the two demons that passed me, bipedal vaguely
vulture-like creatures wearing illusions, did not seem to notice me. That was a
big victory, and I relaxed minutely.
Of course, given the might-as-well-be-infinite variation of
demons, my ability to pass off as a normal was not given. Still, I felt a lot
better.
Christine was actually jumping up and down when I found
them, and leaped on me with a cry, hugging and kissing. The whistles and boos
from the onlookers didn’t seem to bother her.
“It’s on! I can stay with you for the summer, minus regular
visits. Dad will finesse things past my mother, and my brother’s too drunk to
remember the last time he saw me, anyway. He bought Kris’ act, too, and he’ll
call her parents, even before we talk to them. It should be easy. He did want
to report things to the police, but we convinced him that would bring Kris
nothing but grief. I’m sure the school thing will work, too. He wants what’s
best for me, and he already knows being with you is best,” she smiled widely,
showing perfect white teeth.
“Say, boyfriend,” she gave me another look, “what did you
mean by encounter? You look a bit… shaken. Not another elemental?” she
whispered, eyes widening with emotion.
“No, demons,” I whispered right back, motioning Kristen
close so she could hear, “They’re mixed in with people, wearing veils of
illusion or actual human flesh. I killed four, they noticed my casting a spell,
and saw two more just walking in public. With the wizard sight spell, I can see
past their illusions. We’re in trouble. Let’s finish this as quickly as
possible. I really want to get back home.”
The girls were silent and fidgety on the way to where we’d
parked, looking around nervously. My assurance that no demons were in sight did
not help.
I cautioned them not to let the demon problem distract them
from concentrating on the road, and they nodded, looking sufficiently serious
that I saw no need to insult them by emphasizing the point.
It was one of the hardest decisions I’d ever made, and I
agonized over it, before finally just doing it. I stopped concentrating on the
spell, and my vision returned to normal. I couldn’t afford a movie-style
vehicle chase-fight, as our bikes weren’t too fast, and the girls definitely
weren’t ready. Likewise, I could not afford to pinpoint Kristen’s home, if they
chose to put a tail on us.
I developed an intimate understanding of how blind folk
feel, or at least, the closest I’d ever had. The urge to look wildly all
around, instead of concentrating on driving, was almost overwhelming.
I was sweating like a stuck pig when we finally got there,
and was more than a mite frazzled.
The girls looked at me for a moment, “Ahh…,” Chris started.
“No, it’s all right, I’ll wait outside. I need to cool off,
and I might as well learn the lay of the land. Call me when you need me.”
I strolled around for nearly half an hour, picking up some
sweet stuff in a local confectionary, munching steadily and NOT casting so much
as a single cantrip. After I got a look around the blocks surrounding Kris’
home, I sat down on a bench and consulted the book.
The first thing it showed me was how to adapt the first
circle energy manipulation spell that lit a fire into an elemental flame I
could light inside demons. Nasty, that one. It also showed me two second circle
life spells, one that would enhance my situational awareness and come close to
precluding the possibility of surprise, the second to enhance my agility and
grace. That spell would allow me to perform superhuman spiderman-like feats.
I’d need to learn both of those, as well as spells to enhance regeneration,
mental activity, bone density and muscular strength, before I could work the
ritual.
The book was quite firm in telling me that lone ranger
activity against demons would result in quick failure. I needed to bring Criss &
Cross up to speed, and at a minimum add a disciple or two, before going demon
hunting. Demons were not lemmings, or the usual computer or game machine
opponents. Any that had made it to Earth were usually powerful, dangerous,
subtle, capable, smart and well equipped. I’d survived my first encounter with
demons because I’d had surprise on my side, and only barely survived at that. I
had best not underestimate them.
It was a vast relief,
learning that I wouldn’t have to go off on my own. I was not going to ignore my
very own battle-computer. Not that I wanted to risk the girls, but I really did
not feel like anything even approaching ready for something like demon hunting.
What I needed to do, I decided, was add a disciple who was a police officer,
just out of training. She’d have access to things we’d need, and more
important, she’d have training we lacked, knowledge of investigative methods.
Computers weren’t everything. Karla, I was certain, would be happy to introduce
me to just such a prospect. Whoever it was would need to take a vacation in
order to get up to date, magic-wise, and it would have to be a rookie, given
the requirements for a student wizard. I’d need to think up a juicy bet and
some bait to dangle in front of Karla, but that would be simple enough. The age
limit on wizardly awakening was annoying.
When the phone began to
vibrate, I immediately rose and started towards Kris’ residence.
“Chris?”
“Yep, come on up.”
“How did it go?”
“Well enough. It’s meet the parents time, sweetie.”
Chris opened the door, and met me with a demonstrative kiss
and a proprietary hand on my arm, in front of Kristen’s parents. As she’d told
me, they were middle aged, and Kristen was the youngest of five, the rest
having left the nest by now. Her father was semi-retired, and owned a plumbing
business, while her mother taught grade school, history and English.
Her mother seemed calm, but her father, Fred, had a
belligerent expression and a scowl stretched across his craggy face.
“So, boy, why exactly do you think she’ll be safer at your
villa?”
“First, her assailant won’t have any realistic chance of
finding her. Second, if he is unlucky enough to do so, there’s the security
system. It’s a…”
I began to detail the security measures on my home, lying a
lot to avoid compromising safety, and being overly generous on the details. I
took the ‘professor’ stance, and lectured, words pouring out, inventing no less
than 13 companies, giving them mostly Japanese names. I was trying to annoy the
hell out of him, and only secondarily to convince him, but the techno-geek
performance, and it was a practiced one, did the job.
“Yes, okay, shut up already,” he interrupted me after eight
minutes of increasingly technical jabber, eyes somewhat glazed.
“No land mines? Machine gun nests? What about AA?” he
guffawed. I sincerely doubted that he actually understood half of what I’d said
– which was a good thing, as almost half of it was pure bullshit – but I smiled
along.
“Really, Kristen will probably be safer at my place, and
I’ve signed her up for martial arts class. We’ll get her a pepper spray, and
she won’t be bored, either. Christine wants to skip a class at school, so we’ll
be doing quite a bit of studying, and there’s the library, the pool, all the
movies and games in the world…”
“What do you think, hon?” Fred looked at his wife.
“Just exactly why do you want her with you?” she looked at
me piercingly.
“Well, I don’t,” I ignored the deadly looks the girls sent
me, “But Chris does. And what Chris wants, she gets. Did I mention that we’re
going clothes shopping? Now?” I asked, in an attempt to deflect the girls’ ire,
and just possibly, shorten the interrogation.
It worked, at least partially. Chris stopped short of
kicking me in the shin, and Kristen’s open mouth closed with a snap.
“And think of how much you’ll save on the phone bills,” I
joked. I looked pointedly at my watch, “Now, I have an appointment in less than
three hours. Kristen will call you, and you can always call her, but we’re
burning shopping time here, and I don’t want the girls leaving me tied up in a
dark place somewhere, while they take off with my credit card.”
“Hmmph,” her mother smothered a smile, “And just why are you
taking them shopping? For clothes, of all things?”
“Christine needs a few things to complement her beauty,” I
looked at my favorite redhead, ogling her in a very obvious manner, “and my b…,
my dear, sweet, precious sister will be obnoxious enough even if Chris is
wearing the best possible. I shudder to think how she’ll react otherwise. Besides,
Chris deserves a big thank you and a reward,” I leered at her, and this time
she did kick me in the shin, “Ouch. And Kristen benefits.”
Mentioning my sister seemed to clinch things, and they let
us go with a minimum of farewells.
“Come on, girls!” I exclaimed as soon as we were out of
earshot, “That was an act for the parents. If you kick me again, Ms. Christine
Felvers, I’ll tie you up and spend an hour tickling you with a feather,” I said
in the most formal tone I could muster. I wasn’t joking, either. Those kicks
hurt. “And what I said concerning my sister was purely true, by the way.”
Chris muttered something, eyes down. She was slightly
flushed, and Kristen was grinning widely, giving me a thumbs up.
“I do have an appointment, with a realtor. Remember? Another
one tomorrow morning. Kristen, remind me to give you a pair of pepper sprays
canisters when we get home, two because you’ll need some practice for accuracy.
Chris, you should have one, too. Now, we’re going to spend two hours – and no more
than two hours!” I emphasized, “Shopping for the best you can find. If you like
it, buy it, but remember how much room we have in the bikes, so don’t go
overboard. Chris, your credit card has a fifty thousand monthly spending limit.
Not because I don’t trust you, but in case it’s stolen. If you need more, just
ask. Now, I truly, truly don’t know the first things about buying the
expensive, elegant and wonderful clothes you’ll need to look like a
millionaire’s wife and mistress. What do you say we put on that act and twist
the realtor’s feathers?” I smirked. “Given enough practice, Kristen, you’ll
make a decent actor, I’m sure.”
They looked sort of shocked at the ‘millionaire’s wife and
mistress’ comment, and I didn’t give them time to recover.
“I’ll drop you off at the nearest big mall, and we’ll meet
up by the bikes, after two hours. I apologize ahead of time for abandoning you,
but if you insist on modeling everything there, we’ll never make it in time.
Please, be efficient and on time, and I promise you another shopping expedition
next week. Don’t put on whatever you wish to wear, as we’ll drive back home and
take the car. The house we’re seeing is outside the city limits. Agreed?”
They exchanged looks and nodded at me, and Kristen was more
than willing to guide us to the mall. The girls drove slowly and prudently,
which made me very happy. I had a sneaking suspicion that a guy would have
tried to show off, as that’s what I might have done, and the first time on a
bike in the middle of the city in busy traffic was the last place for it.
I left the girls with an admonition to enjoy themselves and
be back on time, and went to do some shopping of my own. Pepper sprays, as I
didn’t want to touch Lee’s supply, some tech toys the girls might enjoy,
educational CDs containing most of what we’d need to deal with the next few
school years, a present Christine would present to her father, who’d done us a
real service by smoothing the way and being so agreeable, and a few more things
I could use as presents. I went shopping very rarely, as, contrary to my recent
and near future spending spree, I was an absolute cheapskate. It was so bad
that I’d actually started buying or ordering things for no special reason, just
to break the habit of buying nothing more than the absolute minimum necessary.
Too much caution and too cheap was as bad as too little, and I was gradually
managing to avoid the stab of guilt whenever I bought anything. In olden days,
I’d actually left books I wanted on the shelf, figuring that I didn’t need them
at the moment. I’ve no idea where that puritanical streak had entered my
bloodstream, but skimping on things was totally irrational, so I was training
myself away from the habit. If slowly and painfully.
Concentrating on not thinking about demons and elementals
did help with shopping-guilt, and I also managed to pick up some take-out, a
big bucket of KFC. I thought of another thing to research, in my copious spare
time. Mediums and psychics – perhaps some were genuine? Or at least, spell casters?
If so, one of them might have the requisite books for the study of divinations,
and knowledge and information were more than half the battle. Those spells
would be almost as important as the battle magics.
The girls were on time, and they’d bought a lot less than
I’d thought they would. I didn’t really try to hide my surprise at that.
“We’re a bit early,” Chris said as they shot me superior
looks.
“Actually, I was surprised that you bought so little.”
“Little?” Kris rolled her eyes, “Do you know how much that
‘little’ cost?”
“No, and I don’t care, either. Next week, I’ll come with
you, and we’ll do a proper shopping spree. You need to fill a big walk in
closet to the brim. You’ll have your own rooms, you get to pick them out
tonight.”
They were quite cheerful, exchanging banter about clothing
as they packed everything. Chris exhibited some curiosity concerning my
purchases, and I told her I’d show them everything after we returned from house
hunting.
I put on a bit of speed on the way home, and it was a good
thing we were riding bikes, as the roads were packed.
We took quick, individual showers, and I put on a suit and
tie, adjusting the colour of my skin and eyes, picking up the identification
papers for one Kenneth Dennard, and adding a dapper beard.
The girls were absolutely stunning. I’d only given them
fifteen minutes to get ready, and phoned the realtor, telling him we’d be late
by at least that much. His hearty acknowledgement left me staring hard at a
mirror. I really hated salespeople, and this was another slick weasel of that
mold.
Kristen was wearing something diaphanous and layered in warm
amber tones that highlit her brown skin just so, almost appearing to glow
slightly. Her long legs were on display, a belt of gold-links emphasized her
slender middle, and she was obviously not entirely comfortable with the fairly
low golden heels.
Christine was a vision in white and leaf green that served
to hug her generous curves, subtle makeup making her appear older than her
fifteen years. She’d picked a gold bracelet and a diamond ring from the jewelry
box, and sprinkled a bit of silver glitter on her bare left shoulder.
When I managed to stop staring, I coughed slightly and said,
“You look wonderful, utterly scrumptious. Sophisticated and twenty. You’ll give
the realtor a really, really HARD time,” I smiled widely.
They preened, and they were early enough that we could
afford enough time to eat some of the take out, with extreme care. A bathroom
break, one last fix-up, and we were on our way.
10
It was getting dark, and the colours of the twilit horizon
were a glorious wash of dark purple and blue across the dusky skyline. A soft
breeze twirled leaves in the air. While all the houses we were going to check
out were outside the city proper, all of them were in the rich boroughs to the
southwest, allowing direct and quick access by means of the highway, so the
drive would be short given the distances involved.
Criss & Cross were still hyped about the clothes, and I
tuned out their chatter. I was getting too much time to think, and my mood was
quite dark. I was going to cancel the firing range. There was no way I was
going to expose us to a free weapons area that might contain demons, who might
be able to notice us without us knowing about it. Delegation – I was going to
let the girls handle the building of the shrines, they could spend a few hours
on Friday looking for a builder, and make a final decision next week.
I needed more wizards, and quickly. Not many, but enough to
create a small tactical team that would work well together. We’ll need some
practice in sneaking around and hand signals. I was going to need some
specialized commo, operational and possibly some night vision gear. There just
wasn’t enough time for everything. The only quick and easy recruit I could
think of was Mellanie from martial arts, assuming she had the talent, and I
wasn’t too enthused about the prospect. She was dangerously aggressive, which
might well put all of us in mortal danger, and she’s taller than I am. Silly
perhaps, but none of us are truly rational where preferences are concerned.
With people, rational means explaining why we did what we did, and making it
seem logical in retrospect.
I was pretty sure that no demons were attending jiujitsu
practice, and I’d need to have wizard sight active tomorrow, which nonetheless
represented a definite danger. It would give class a certain edge, and I’d
better activate it after I part from the girls – without wizard sight, the
minor spells they can use in a fight were of limited utility. You needed to see
just where to cut or call fire, and ordinary vision was quite inadequate when
considering the task of seeing inside a body.
I also needed to do some investigating of my own. My
thoughts were running in so many directions, I’d missed the obvious. Six
demons, in a specific place, meant something. While computers and Sigint were
no replacement for Humint, nobody overlooked them, not these days. The building
complex in which Matt and my father had their own offices held a number of
companies. It was almost certain that at least one of them was either run by or
dealt with demons. Also, I needed to get my hands on the full architectural and
infrastructure plans for that particular complex, and scout it properly. If it
was a center of demonic influence, they probably had hidden egresses and
chambers. That’s what I would have done, in their place.
I slowed down when we reached the grounds of the house we
were to see. Quite extensive and not at all run down, they seemed suitable,
though it was difficult to see just how green things were in the dark. With a
sigh, I stalled for a moment, activated the sight spell, and looked over the
life and power lines that ran through everything. After a moments focus on the
view, I tried to memorize everything, wondering whether my impression, that the
place wasn’t too healthy, was accurate. Another thing I’d neglected to
accomplish was the study of the requirements for our would-be hideout, mostly
because I hadn’t understood what little the book had shown me on the subject.
Magical architecture and geomancy were fiendishly complicated areas of study,
and I wasn’t really up to learning even the bare basics in a few days. There
were concepts there that were well beyond my present limited comprehension.
That explanation from the book always pissed me off, and made me all the more
determined to transcend those limits. Which was probably exactly what the
sneaky thing wanted. I kept feeling that it was playing me like a violin.
Stopping by the driveway, we saw a BMW already there, and
the realtor was leaning on it, smoking. When I lifted my hands from the wheel,
I noticed that they were shaking. Delayed reaction. I’d killed and nearly died
again, today. Reading about after action shakes was one thing, and always left
me skeptical. Weakness, right? Wrong. Experiencing was very much different. I
took a big breath, steadied myself in the seat, and hit the dashboard with my
fist. A bit of pain helped.
I stepped outside smoothly, and opened the door for the
girls, bowing them out.
“Chris, it’s your play. I’ll just look around. Make him
think you’re two rich lesbians, I’m the chauffeur cum bodyguard. Have fun.”
The look on Kristen’s face was hilarious, but Christine shut
her up with a light kiss on her mouth. “Come on lover,” she grinned at me and
fondled her friend’s butt, “Let’s look at this tumbled heap of brick and
cement.”
It was certainly a big house, or rather, more of a mansion.
Very spacious, if sparsely furnished, with a large basement, a tennis court and
a pool. I walked behind the realtor, a spiffy ‘hunk’ in his late twenties, not
really listening to his salesman’s spiel, trying to concentrate on the currents
of power that ran through the mundane walls, floors, pipes and lines of
electrical and phone connections. The book would have to make the final
decision as to suitability in matters arcane, grading the houses, and we’d have
to make a choice based on that and our own impressions.
Christine’s act was flawless, and Kristen’s reluctance made
it all the more delicious, which was damnably distracting. She had the poor
realtor almost drooling, and he had to walk slowly and attempt to cover his
‘problem’. Chris’ hands were running all over her friend, light touches,
caresses and the occasional squeeze, but the crowning touches were the kisses
and way she rubbed herself, most especially her chest, on her friend. Her words
were just as titillating, though I tried very hard not to listen, as she seemed
to add a description of just what she could do with Kris in each and every
room. Very explicit descriptions too, and she was obviously having the time of
her life, laughing loudly and freely.
Our distinguished guide actually pulled a kerchief and wiped
dripping sweat away from his face and forehead, and after almost an hour I took
pity on him, and ‘reminded’ the girls of our next ‘appointment’.
Once we were out of sight, Kristen leaped on Chris, truly
cross, and started pummeling her. “Ouch! Bitch, are you feeling butch tonight?”
Chris taunted, and I came to a sudden halt, causing the tangle of girls to fall
from the seat.
I turned back to look at them, “No catfights while I’m
driving and can’t watch, girls,” I smile as Kris hissed at me. “Seriously, you
will not even think about hitting Christine, understood, Kristen? We have more
than enough trouble without domestic violence. If you have a problem, talk
about it. Think about what you want to say, and we’ll talk when we get home.”
Kris sulked in her corner of the backseat, hugging herself
and shooting fulminating looks at Chris, but she slowly calmed down and seemed
to ruminate, hopefully thinking on what she wanted to say. Chris made a point
of not looking at her, taking out a small mirror and playing at fixing herself
up, making a production out of looking and sounding self satisfied. Which did
not help with Kris’ temper, not at all. And here I thought redheads were
supposed to be the tempestuous ones. Just goes to show that you can’t always
trust book learning.
The drive back was very quiet, and when we left the garage,
the tension was almost palpable. Defusing it was simple enough – I simply
opened the goodies bag. The girls were delighted with the tiny digital cameras
and the smartphones I produced for them, and started tinkering immediately, reading
the instruction booklets and fiddling with all the buttons, while I went to
shave the beard and remove the disguise.
“Why don’t you call your parents using your new phones, and
give them an edited version of today. Better flood them with information, at
first, until they grow used to things.”
They were quite enthusiastic in their descriptions, and
spoke to their parents for a surprisingly long time. More than enough time for
me to prepare a serious dinner.
I heated up some hot and sour soup, left over from the
Chinese takeout, added pork in black bean sauce with white rice, sweet potatoes
in chili sauce, and a couple of milder things for Chris, brought out breads,
cheeses and cold cuts, set the table and served.
Kristen was audibly appreciative, and had no trouble with
the hot stuff, and we spent more time practicing spells. “It needs to become
instinctive, automatic, you need to learn to react before you think. It’s the
only way you’re going to survive. The cutting spell, aim for the neck or chest
and put more power behind it. The firestarting spell can be used to incinerate
flesh, as well. Once you learn to see beyond, you’ll be able to use the spells
much more effectively, but for the nonce, do what you can. We won’t be going
after demons or teaching the local elemental courts prudence, not until we’re
ready.”
With the vision spell, it was easy to see exactly what they
were doing, but describing the slight variations that one could use to shift
the energies just so was simply impossible. Subtlety without sight required
more genius than any of us had.
Chris sighed explosively, and the fork she’d animated fell
with a clank. “Do you think I’ve lost weight?” she asked, obviously concerned.
I looked at her carefully, tilting my head, and shrugged.
“I think you have, at least some,” Kristen volunteered.
“Possibly,” I added, “and we need to watch that. We can’t
afford to run our bodies down, we need a lot of fuel. Later, Chris, you’ll be
able to do incredible thing with your body. Not mere disguise, but actually
change your features, moving the bones around. You’ll regulate your body
functions and enjoy a level of physical vitality we can’t even imagine at
present. You’ll be able to be any girl or woman you want to be.”
Most of the rest of the meal, they talked of what changes
they wanted to make, and which movie stars or models they’d impersonate. I let
them fantasize away, mostly disagreeing with the changes they wanted to
introduce.
“Really, you’re both lovely. To become perfectly beautiful,
the changes you’ll need to make are very minor. For you, Chris, perhaps a
slight widening of the face, a bit… no, it’s difficult to say. We’ll need to
experiment. Turn the hair into liquid fire, perhaps, bluish-red, blood-scarlet,
add a bit of blue to your eyes. Your body is already close to perfect, and a
serious exercise regime and martial arts will tighten you up in no time. You’re
deliciously soft and bountiful,” I smiled as Chris blushed and looked away, and
Kristen very deliberately took a drink.
“As for you, Kristen,” she had an ‘oh, oh,’ expression on
her face, and my smile widened, “It’s even more difficult. I think you need to
let your hair down, the ponytail is a bit too business-like. You’re stuck in
the ‘cute’ stage, and we’ll need to mature you a bit, make you look older to
finish the changes time would have made on its own, but directing them to
accentuate things, possibly sharpen your cheekbones. You’d look like a
predatory sex-vixen,” Chris giggled at the expression, and Kris almost choked
on what she was trying to swallow.
“For the body, Kris,” I LOOKED at her, pausing to take a
bite, making them wait, “I’d need a much closer acquaintance to make any sort
of judgment. Doesn’t that strike you as reasonable, Chris?” who just nodded
shyly, before returning her attention to the food. Kris was almost certainly
blushing, but on her darker skin it wasn’t readily noticeable.
“Now,” I set the utensils down, “plans for the next couple
of days. You need to practice more, and on Saturday you might be ready to try
breaking the first circle of life and attempting the wizard sight spell. Don’t
be upset if it doesn’t work the first few times, I’m certain you’ll manage it
next week. It’s a deucedly demanding spell. We won’t go to the shooting range
on Friday, as I’m not comfortable with the possibility of concealed demons.
We’d be much too vulnerable. As you might recall, we’re buying a house to set
up for the first enhancement ceremony, which will be a major landmark for all
of us. For the ritual, we’ll need shrines to all six elements, with certain
materials inside them, and I just have too much on my hands. I want you two to
handle the construction of the shrines and the acquisition of the requisite
materials. I’ve already copied what is needed from the book, I’ll show you
where the papers are. Try to see what you can find, and tell me what you have
on Sunday. You’ll be getting your new laptops tomorrow, so you won’t be
dependant on the computer stations here. You know how to search for things?”
They nodded, Kristen a bit more hesitantly.
“Seriously, if you have any questions, ask. It’s imperative
that the matter be handled perfectly – we can’t afford any error in the
shrines’ construction, and any delay might just prove to be fatal.”
“Fatal?” Chris asked, eyes narrowing.
“Demons, elementals, wizards, gods, silly,” Kristen
answered, “we’re in deep doo-doo, no matter how much money we can spend. It
won’t do us any good six feet under. What do we do tomorrow morning?”
“Another house, we have three more in all.”
“I am NOT,” Kristen declared, back straight, “getting pawed
up tomorrow, you lezzie slut!”
“Riiight,” Chris mocked, “you were humping my fingers like a
rabid bitch, when I had them on your ass! It got you soooo hot!”
Kris flinched, “Did not!”
“Did so!”
“Girls, please!” Sometimes it was not so very difficult to
remember that I was dealing with fifteen year olds. “Tomorrow, Kristen, you can
play with Christine for the edification and delight of our realtor. But no
pinching. Good enough?” I figured that payback was what she really wanted, and
Chris would probably enjoy it.
“Right!” Kris said, “You got it, boss!” she actually
saluted.
“Hey, now…” Chris woke up.
“Now, don’t tell me YOU won’t enjoy it?” I quirked a brow.
“Welllll…” her skin turned a delicate rose, and she mumbled
something into her food.
“Anyway, once
we’re done with the food, you’ll get some pepper spray practice, and please
don’t go anywhere without a canister. It might not work on demons, but it
should be enough for most creeps.”
“Target practice!” Kris whooped, “But what about real guns?”
“I can probably arrange to use the range the police uses,
but I’d feel better about setting up a range in our new refuge. If the house we
pick doesn’t have one, it’ll be your job to have one built, and it’ll also be
your responsibility, policing it and such. What do you think?”
Kris pursed her lips and actually thought about it for a
moment, leaving me stunned, and very, very happy. She might not be as bright as
Chris, but she’ll certainly do. Steady and thoughtful can be more valuable than
brilliant and erratic. Not that Chris had proven in any wise erratic.
“Well, I don’t know anything about it. Permits, laws, all
that stuff,” she looked at me.
“I can direct you to people who can help with that, Kris,
and you can find what you need all by yourself, easily. Information is easy to
come by, and popular thought to the contrary, people are generally helpful.
Especially,” I smiled at her, “when a pretty girl is involved, and they stand
to make some money.”
“And the rest of tomorrow?” Chris asked, “Other than more
spell practice, there’s the jiujitsu thingie. Do we need to prepare something
special for it?”
“No, not really, aside from some loose comfortable long
sleeved clothing with no buttons and such like, which is what you’ll need to
have on. Before that, we’ll stop at my lawyer.”
“Lawyer?” they asked in unison.
“Yes, I need to prepare a will. Ordinarily, everything I
have would pass on to my parents, and thereafter to my dearly beloved sister.
If I croak, I’d rather have you getting a major chunk of things. I’ll show you
a computer file you’ll need to open, if anything happens to me. I’ll also
introduce you to my lawyer, she’s a very nice woman, as you’ll probably need
her help for a variety of things. From shrine building contracts to gun range
construction, for example. She’ll also handle much of the house purchase, and I
need to tell her about that.”
From inquisitive expressions, the looks on their faces had
turned to horror, and it was obvious that they wanted to say something, and
were casting about for the appropriate words. None surfaced, and they went back
to the food, eyes lowered.
I’m not a solipsist, per se, but ‘the world ends when I die’
wasn’t too far from what I’d always felt like. Facing up to possible
immortality and very close clashes with imminent mortality had made me think
about unpleasant possibilities, and if the girls, by some miracle, managed to
outlive me, well, it was the least I could do.
“Ahem,” Chris hesitated, “Just what do you need a lawyer
for, really?”
“Well, in all honesty, I haven’t, not that much. Mostly
questions where it was easier to pay a bit than to do all the research myself,
and still not be certain that I wasn’t missing something. My grandfather,
Alex’s father, was corporate shark, and she’s his protégé. That’s how we met,
and she’s been very helpful when I needed to construct shell corporations and
deal with taxes. With money and problems, it’s always good to have lawyers on
retainer.”
“So, you’ve never been arrested?” Kris asked.
“Hardly. Christine only knows my father, but mom’s a judge.
Remember my mentioning the police range? Ten years ago, she was still
prosecuting criminals, and I spent a lot of time with her, at work. I still
touch base every now and then with a few police officers. Good people, really.
I even helped them with a few cases of computer fraud, under the table.”
“Right!” Chris smirked, “You’d know all about that dirty,
filthy business.”
“Ayup,” I affected an accent.
The practice with the pepper sprays went well, though the
atmosphere was somewhat subdued. Criss & Cross snuck looks at me when they
thought I was looking elsewhere and wouldn’t notice.
It didn’t take them very long at all to gain satisfactory
proficiency, and we were still too worn out from the recent practice session to
try more spells.
“Time for some physical activity. A few hours a week of
martial arts is nowhere near enough to keep in shape, and you’re going to need
muscles and endurance. Swimming will buff you up without those awful
weight-type muscles.”
“What about running?” Kris asked.
“Running is very unhealthy, it’s a constant shock to bones
and sinew, and Christine would find it exceedingly uncomfortable. She’s too
well endowed, though I’ll admit the sight of her bouncing about is quite
fetching,” I ducked a hurled pillow, and shook a warning finger at Chris.
“Definitely swimming,” Chris crossed her arms beneath her
breasts, frowning, “and some water does sound good.”
“Can you swim?” I asked as we walked to the pool, recalling
our last time in the pool. They’d not displayed real skill at moving about.
“Well, breast stroke for me,” Chris replied.
“I’m more of the flail about, dog paddle,” Kris admitted
sheepishly.
“Well, come on, I’ll teach you. Chris, just swim steadily.
Finish at least thirty laps, try doing ten each using just the arms and just
the legs. I’ll show Kris how to do more than just float.”
I led them to the pool, and pulled on a pair of Speedos – we
kept a stack of bathing suits by the pool. I turned around, and gasped. The
lighting cast shadows across their bodies, but it was obvious that they were
nude. As I looked, Chris entered the waters, and Kris walked over to me, and
with my magical vision still active, I could see that her temperature was
rising. Whereas Chris kept a thatch of pubic hair, Kris was baby smooth, and I
couldn’t help but stare.
“Right,” I tried to keep my voice steady, “Stand right
there, and I’ll show you how to move your arms, for the breast stroke.”
I demonstrated and she followed suit, and then I stepped
behind her, taking her hands and guiding her through the requisite movements.
The feel of her skin was exquisite, like liquid silk, and she was so firm.
Without conscious guidance, my hands found their way to her breasts, my
erection pressing against her bare behind.
Kristen trembled in my arms, breathing loudly, seemingly
paralyzed. Her nipples had pebbled, and I fondled them with meticulous
attention, biting down and chewing on her neck and ears. She half fell back
against me, and I braced myself to support her weight, moving one hand down.
She was dripping, and moaned loudly as I cupped her bare
mound, rubbing her pussy. For a full ten minutes, a real test of endurance for
me, I played with her sex and breasts, pinching, fingering and fondling. Her
back arched with a sharp shriek, thighs clamping down on my hand, body turning
limp. I held on to her, and only just managed to hold myself back from dropping
her to all fours, and mounting right on.
Sex standing up, even something like this, is really
draining. I sighed softly, picked her up, and entered the waters. Kris gasped
as the cold touched her, and turned around, still cradled in my arms. I stared
into her brown eyes, still smoking with passion, and kissed her on the
forehead, nose, then lips. She hugged me tightly, and pressed her lips to mine,
hard, before subsiding. The relative coldness of the water helped me calm down.
Chris swam closer, “So we get to test all the torture
devices on her, right?” she looked at us intently.
“They should be delivered tomorrow,” I replied without
answering.
“Sounds like fun,” Kris said weakly.
“Oh, it will be,” Chris smiled, “Now, teach her to swim,”
she ordered peremptorily, and swam off to continue with her laps.
Teach her to swim I did, and Kris caught on quickly, despite
all the feels I stole. I had to stop after a squeal caused her to sputter, as
she almost swallowed some of the pool’s water.
Athletic as she was, Kris was soon swimming rather
gracefully, and I demonstrated free style for both of them.
When the muscles began to protest, we went to the hot tub,
and talked. Kris wanted to know more about guns and martial arts, while Chris
was more interested in the shrines and the spells they’d learn next.
“Kristen, I don’t believe we mentioned this, but it’s
vitally important. Don’t ever teach anyone magic, not even after you can detect
talent with wizard sight. The book is required to initiate my talent, and only
I have the proper connection to it, and if someone did manage to learn from
you, they’d be at risk of life and limb,” I nearly kicked myself for forgetting
that point.
Kris nodded thoughtfully, and I began to lay out my plans
for dealing with the threats that faced us, and what we would do in the near
future. The book’s admonition that the elemental courts were necessary for the
function of nature stuck in my craw, and I was nonetheless determined to teach
them a lesson.
“The books of magic you’re looking for,” Christine said with
a frown, “what about the archwizard before you? Didn’t he have his own
library?”
She really is good, I noted to myself with a satisfied
smile, “Excellent point Chris, I just thought of that myself. I’m very lucky to
have found you. You just might be smarter than you’re beautiful, at that.”
Compliments seemed to embarrass her more than anything, and
she sunk down to her neck in the water, looking away. I opened the book again,
not anticipating any welcome news.
Demarthos
Alkavrin Kelletar kept hidden strongholds with a full library in Greece and in
India. They are almost certain to remain intact, given the stringent security
measures he employed. This book is a key to all the defenses, but third circle
spells of the circles of mind and spirit are required to pierce the veil he
placed around them. Gathering books on your own is thus wasteful of neither
time nor resources.
“So we won’t be breaking into that treasure trove anytime
soon,” I added. “Can you think of anything else I’ve missed, Chris? Or you,
Kristen?”
A few minutes passed in silence while they pondered the
matter.
“We need some serious reinforcements,” Kris struck the water
in frustration, droplets flying in all directions, “but since they have to be
young, it’s a problem. We need all sorts of skills. The best bet are the
younger college students.”
“We’re not recruiting much, at present,” Chris responded,
“we need to keep a small inner circle, until the first enhancement. Even after
that, we’d need time to become more formidable. The concentration of demons
worries me. With the meteor shower you mentioned, you said the book told you
that it involves power. Perhaps they’re planning something for that?”
“A very good point,” I nodded, “we should be enhanced a few
days before the 23rd of August, so we’ll spend half the time remaining
studying like mad, the rest hunting demons. If we can spoil whatever it is
they’re planning, we’ll be a step ahead. Then some more limited recruiting,
quick training, and wipe the demon presence from the city. There shouldn’t be
too many of them around. I hope. Until then, I’ll gather more information about
the companies resident in the Easthaven complex. If we can connect the demons
to any of them, much of the trail will suddenly become clearer.”
“So tomorrow it’s another house, lawyer, and class? Plus all
the spells we can cram in between?” Kris asked.
“Essentially,” Chris replied, “though you’re neglecting the
fun part, which I for one have no intention of forgetting. I think I’ve turned
nympho or something, all I want is more orgasms,” she bit her lip at the
revelation.
Kris looked shocked, and then intrigued, but before she
could embarrass her friend, I cut in, “There won’t be quite as much fun and
games as we might wish,” I couldn’t help but frown, “according to the book,
spellcasting takes a lot of energy, including sexual energy. Our sexual drives
will be, likely already are, much reduced from what they would ordinarily be.
Once…”
“Show me that in the book,” Chris scoffed.
The
decrease in sexual potency is more pronounced with male practitioners. The
diminution of the female sexual drive is not readily noticeable.
“Oh well,” I sighed, “don’t expect too much out of me, then.
A very good thing we’re getting all the toys. And on this note, lady wizards,
let us go to bed. I’m exhausted. Just don’t forget to use the refreshment
ritual before you actually sleep. Without it, we’d have trouble surviving the
coming day. Days, I suppose.”
Criss and Cross kept up a light chatter as we washed off,
alternately casting aspersions on my manhood, and speaking of just how they’d
help it recover.
“Girls, are you trying to kill me?” I pleaded, “Remember
that I’m casting second circle spells, where the cost in personal energy is
much greater than the little spells you’ve cast. A modicum of mercy, patience and
foresightedness, please. If I survive the month, the enhancement ritual should
really help.” Of course, then I’d face third and fourth circle spells, which
were sure to be killers. Somehow, I just didn’t believe that Chris would be
willing to wait fourteen years for serious sex.
The three of us entered one of the guest rooms, and Kris
shut the door behind us. I was weaving on my feet, so tired. They took my
shorts off, but proved to have mercy. Performing the ritual was difficult, as
my concentration wavered, but I managed it, and descended into blissful sleep.
Waking up was a pleasure. An intense, wet, hot ecstasy, the
feeling of mouths sucking my cock and balls. I kept my eyes closed, moaning as
they kept the indescribable pleasure coming, soaring, as they employed tongues
and lips with a tentative, exploring approach that kept my mind on the WHO,
rather than the what. My attempt to concentrate on spell casting was pitiful,
and soon abandoned. I recalled that I hadn’t even thought of asking Kristen for
a blowjob, yesterday, not after what she’d been through. They must have started
before I’d truly woken, for I found that I could not hold back. I was not even
certain I wanted to prolong it, reaching for the explosion, only just managing
to warn them with a cry of “AHHH!”
I released spurt after spurt, feeling empty and yet warm and
contented with the ejaculation done. Opening my eyes, slowly, I was surprised
to note that it was fully dark. Reaching out, I felt warm, fragrant, feminine
flesh, eliciting a giggle. “A real cum bath,” I recognized Chris’s voice, and
rolled over a body, and then another, using hands, mouth, lips, and teeth. How
long we squirmed in the darkness, the girls’ voices rising again and again in
shouts of rapture, myself climaxing again between a pair of squirming, tight
young buttocks, painting Kris’ back with cum, I could not say.
We’d neglected to close the curtains, and dawn’s light
brought an early end to our threesome.
“Wow, what a start to the day,” Chris licked her lips, looking
both satiated and exultant. “That’s how every day should begin, so says the
nympho sorceress,” she declared grandly. While I’d read that girls could be as
sexually ravenous as the boys, it was another thing I hadn’t really believed.
Probably because of, as Chris had called it, societal norms and bullshit.
Kristen looked a bit guilty, probably because, in the dark,
she’d doubtless had a bit of fun with her friend. So she tossed a pillow and
ran off, Chris a-chasing behind. Lovely behinds, too.
The abrupt change, from monastic abstinence to an abundance
of eager beauty, was much easier to digest than all the rest of it, I couldn’t
help but admit with a short bark of a laugh. Then again, the loyalty binding
was probably responsible for short cutting past their normal emotional
hang-ups. I couldn’t complain, but I wasn’t going to forget it, either.
I’m not sure what sort of fun Criss and Cross managed in the
shower, but Kris seemed even more weighed by guilt, Chris even happier. That
just wouldn’t do.
“Kris,” I handed her a plate with sinfully rich waffles,
“Don’t worry about your games with girls. You’re definitely not lesbian, and
even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s what you are, what you
like, what you do, and as long as you don’t hurt someone needlessly, you’ve
nothing to be ashamed of. Be yourself, and rejoice in it. Damn,” I shook my
head, “ain’t I bombastic?”
Kristen was staring at me, eyes wide, and Chris was laughing
freely.
“But I do mean what I say, and I also say what I mean. I
want you to be happy. That’s an order, apprentice. Remember that you’re going
to school with US next year, and no one will laugh at you. At least not more
than once,” my smile was chill. “Now eat.”
We ate, mostly in comfortable silence. As usual, the very
extended meal was interspersed with spells, and they learned several new
cantrips from the book, as I studied several more second circle spells. I’ll
definitely break the first circle of transmutation today.
Once that empty feeling that went with too much magical work
set in, we took a break and went swimming. They’d not bothered to dress at all
today, while I went with underwear, and Speedos in the pool. That dangling bit
had to be kept safe and sound. I learned swimming on a competitive team, but I
was not interested in competing, and quit the team a couple of years ago. But
six years of thrice weekly sessions do leave a mark, and I spent an hour
helping the girls smooth their style, and began teaching them backstroke.
I showed them some of the basic stretches they’d be doing
quite a bit of in beginner’s class later today, and we were interrupted by the
delivery of the laptops and the boxes of sex toys. There was no time to play
with the toys, and we went to dress up for the house showing. I expected to be
stunned, and was not disappointed.
Kristen was red blazing hot in a crimson bodysuit that
seemed indecent, even with the skimpy skirt, glued as it was to her superb
figure. Christine overdisplayed her cleavage in a form fitting outfit of white and
gold, and she seemed set to burst out of it at any moment. Talk about eye
candy.
“Girls,” I said somewhat hoarsely, after I digested the
display, “We need to buy some serious jewelry for you, next shopping trip. Not
that diamonds could compare, but they are girl-friendly, right?”
They stepped forward as one, and kissed me on the cheek.
“Very funny,” I cleaned the lipstick off, “consider me marked. Just remember,
it’s Kristen’s turn to play.”
I went off to play chauffeur, and this time the realtor was
a very well kept middle aged woman in a business suit. The house she presented
was quite a ways smaller than the one we saw yesterday, but even more opulent
and luxurious, and she bore Kristen’s antics (which were somewhat cruder then
her friend’s) with impressive equanimity. The flows of force and life in the
house and on the grounds meant nothing to me, but I studied them intently
nonetheless. Cynthia, the realtor, suggested that we look at a nearby house
that had only just come up on the market, and the girls looked at me, spoiling
our little game.
“Certainly, we should have time. You’re scheduled to meet
the lawyers in three hours,” I told the girls and raised a brow in question,
and Cynthia nodded, “Plenty of time.”
The second house of the day was somewhat above the upper
limit for the price I’d specified, but it was enormous, and it had everything,
including a range. The girls like it a lot, and so did I, as it would serve to
house the large number of wizards I planned on recruiting. Cynthia could tell
that we liked it, and warmed up to her presentation, tossing numbers and adding
the details of the many tech-toys and appliances the house was graced with. Two
basements, one of them serving as a home movie center that could seat twenty,
an underground garage for thirty vehicles, and ever so much more.
I only just managed to cut things short, as we’d be pressed
if we wanted to keep our schedule. I’d told her three, but we actually had five
hours before the lawyers, as I’d made a reservation at a restaurant. Cynthia
evinced no surprise when I told her that we liked the house, and that we’d
inform her of our decision within a week.
We drove off, and the girls exchanged ‘wows’ over the houses
we’d seen, and started to plan changes, pick rooms, and make comparisons. They
were so excited and absorbed, they didn’t notice where we were going – at
least, not until I parked. I’d dismissed the wizard sight a while ago, not
wishing to court any avoidable risks, and judged the risk taken without a
semi-active magical signature that allowed me to detect potential hostiles to
be slightly less than that taken by retaining it. The book concurred with my
decision.
“Where the hell…?” they were surprised to see our
destination. Rich neighbourhoods demand special dining experiences, and this
was one. Vorvild’s was fairly new, and while it was as snobbish as the location
suggests, the décor and food were supposed to be impressive. I knew the girls
would like it.
They did, too. They outshined the females among the diners in
beauty, youth and style, and Christine helped her friend assume a façade of
graceful comportment. Everyone was staring at us… no, at them. We dismissed the
sommelier, explaining that we were meeting with lawyers after lunch, so soft
drinks were indicated, and ordered. After Kris cast a couple of ‘mischief’
spells, I warned her not to attract elementals and demons to attack us, and she
looked suitably chastened.
The food was as good as advertised, and the girls basked at
the attention. Kristen couldn’t hide the fact that she was somewhat intimidated
by our surroundings – the place was decorated as richly as the houses we’d
seen, and the diners looked like heavyweights. But she relaxed soon enough, the
mellow melody of the piano, our approving looks and the excellent food settling
her down.
We declined the offer of desert, as we had to be on our way,
and I drove with uncharacteristic speed. The ‘early fetish’ was deeply
ingrained. Rather than place it near the City Courthouse, Crystal’s law office
was located in an office building that mostly contained investment firms. A
smart move, really, when litigation is not a significant part of your
repertoire.
As a senior partner in my grandfathers old firm, Crystal
wasn’t going to cater to our needs personally. That was what minions were for.
But she did make time to see us, and was as pleasant and lovely as ever. You’d
never guess the cool looking brunette was over forty, not in a million years.
“Logan!” she greeted me, “Growing up to be a shark and a
rake, just like Pete! Such lovely ladies, excuse me, heiresses. Please,
Christine, Kristen, take a seat.”
The girls seemed startled at the recognition, and somewhat
ill at ease.
“Now, Crystal, Pete wasn’t much of a shark. Lawyers only
take a piece of the pie, even if the bite can be painful. It’s the people who
own the pie who’re the real sharks,” I smiled and shook the hand she proffered.
“Touché,” she nodded, “But why the sudden concern for your
health? You’re beautiful and sixteen.”
“Excuse me?!” Christine interjected frostily.
“It’s a line from a song, one of the oldie moldies,” I
explained. “Crystal doesn’t like them young, she prefers…”
“Hey now!” Crystal interrupted, “That’s a bit too personal.
Is it a secret?”
“No, not really. I wanted to introduce the girls, as they’ll
be doing quite a lot of work for me, and will need the occasional legal advice,
and thought I might as well. Accidents happen, and it wouldn’t do to leave them
destitute. Not thinking about it doesn’t make it not happen,” I shrugged.
“And the house? Striking out on your own quite so soon? What
about college? There’s an excellent law program at…”
“Not that I have anything against your alma mater,” I
smiled, “but I’ll finish a degree in math and economics next year, and I don’t
think I’ll bother with more than that. I don’t need the certs, not really.
Studying remotely is much more convenient than campus living, as well. As for
the house, well, home is getting a bit too small for me and my sister. It’s get
away, or kill her. Frankly, I’d rather kill her, but I don’t think my parents
would be too happy with that,” I shrugged once more.
Crystal was in no wise shocked or perturbed, as she’d heard
about my ‘sister woes’ before. Her advice on the subject had proven quite
useful, too.
“Wise. So, besides spending time with lovely ladies, what
are you doing these days?”
“Wallowing in quotidian ennui and shameless luxury.
Retirement agrees with people.”
“Retired? So soon? I thought the plan was at eighteen.”
“Well, not quite retired, no. You might want to invest in
Alkastar’s stock offering, and pick up a few options for Yorkmere. But I am
looking for an apprentice or three, and I will retire from finance in a few
weeks at the latest,” I looked sideways at the girls for a moment, and she nodded
understanding, writing down the names of the companies I’d mentioned.
Then she proceeded to chat with the girls, spending a few
minutes covertly questioning them and putting them at their ease. She reached a
state of comfortable, respectful truce with Christine, and got more from
Kristen than she should have.
“Logan, it was wonderful to see you again, and I must
congratulate you on your skill. It can’t be luck,” she chuckled, “I remember
how much you trust it. ‘Lady luck is a fickle mistress’ is your expression,
right?”
“So it is,” I rose from the chair, and dry kissed the back
of her hand, a courtly gesture I’d quite forgotten to practice on the girls.
“But I’m allowed to change my mind, and reluctantly, I must. My luck has
turned.”
She frowned, understanding that I’d not said which way it
had turned, but regained her smile as she shook Criss and Cross’ hands.
“Ladies, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how lucky you
are. Logan is devoted, loyal, and most important, he listens. I’m sure I’ll see
you again. Will you have a house warming party?” Crystal asked.
“Probably not,” I tilted my head in thought, “we’ll be too
busy settling in. If we do, you’ll hear of it. Have a good day, and don’t let
them catch you cheating.”
Her secretary directed us to the associates we needed to
see, and we completed the paperwork for the will in a trice, as I’d sent the
details ahead. Alerting the second associate to prepare for the real estate
purchase took a bit more time, but we were still done well before my estimate of
how long the rigamarole would require.
We drove back home, and they quizzed me about Crystal. She’d
always treated me as a miniature adult, and she’d profited thereby. Peter
Reeves hadn’t picked her by accident or with looks in mind, and she is as sharp
as a razor. A bit predatory, but I like her humour and manner, and she is one
of the few people I never had to slow down for at all. Chris is bright, but
Crystal is quite possibly smarter than I am. I gave them the short version of
our acquaintance, and Chris suddenly asked, “Do you like older women?”
“It’s not age, or even looks or smarts. It’s not entirely
rational, if you know what I mean. Sometimes I hate people for absolutely no
reason, and in such cases I keep a tight reign on things. And sometimes,” I
reached for her hand, “I like people, just like that. Even more rarely, I FEEL
for people. I can’t really describe it. It’s actually similar in a way to panic
or intense fear, that hollow thing in the stomach, a completely impossible
sensation that comes out of nowhere. A physical echo, a shadow of what I feel.
Do you see?”
“No,” Chris admitted, “Not really. But like you said, it’s
not something you can explain or really describe. In a way, I do understand, I
suppose.”
In the few hours we had left before jiujitsu, we had another
leisurely meal and spellcasting session. I broke the first circle of
transmutation, and learned yet another second circle spell, the life magic
which enhances physical strength. The cleaning and pool service had taken good
care of the house, and I browsed the surveillance records to see if there’d
been anything suspicious.
The girls were excited about their first martial arts
lesson, Kristen letting out a few Bruce Lee type yells. We drove slowly in our
trikes, waited for the ‘oh, they’re so cute’ ballet dolls to make their way
outside, and walked in. I showed Criss and Cross where to stow their things,
making sure they had nothing dangerous left on, and showed them where to go.
Before I entered my practice room, I activated wizard sight.
I was sufficiently used to it by now that I kept from staggering at the
physical drain.
Dan was there, of course, and so were Doug and Mellanie,
neither of whom showed any potential. There was an unfamiliar black haired girl
with her back to me, who blazed with the warmth of wizardly potential.
She turned to look at me, and I only just barely heard Dan’s
introduction.
“Logan, this is Miko Lee. We’ll be working full contact
today, she’ll pair up with you, as you’re of a size and comparable skill.”
“Kimiko, actually,” she dazzled me with a smile, “But
everyone calls my mother Kim, so I usually go by Lee.”
The name snapped me into focus. Another Lee. Hopefully not,
because Kimiko was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen, and that FEELING
I’d mentioned to Chris was eating at my stomach’s interior. After class, I was
definitely going to show her a magic trick.
11
I excused myself to the bathroom to avoid making a complete
fool of myself. Washing my face with cold water helped almost as much as her
name. I delayed for a moment more, stomach fluttering, before hitting the wall
with a closed fist. Pain helps jerk you away from things, unless of course it’s
an electrical connection you happen to touch the wrong way.
Beautiful. Oh, I’m not sure how much of that was simply due
to the fact that she matched my physical ideal, almost perfectly. Neatly
framed, pale skinned, not dark but black hair, blue eyes, slender figure, a bit
shorter than I am, with delicately drawn features and a small rosebud of a
mouth. The oriental cast of her features, as her name attested, granted her
face an exotic cast, but it was softened somehow. Almost certainly, of mixed
blood.
Calming down was not just a matter of a bit of pain, but the
certain knowledge that she’d be mine. It was almost worth it all, all by
itself, if only for a moment. Not that I’d forgotten Chris, nor would I ever.
That instant attraction, what I could only term ‘crush’, was something I’d felt
only once before, something that had turned to ashes in my mouth as soon as I
got closer. First impressions can be deceptive.
Christine was my girlfriend. I’d started out liking her, and
what I felt now was considerably more than that. What this Lee would be, beyond
wizard and disciple to mighty me, I’d simply have to see. There was no reason
to rush, no reason to grow overexcited. The reminder worked, the rapid beating
of my heart slowed down, and I suddenly recalled the need to breathe.
I got back just in time, and we began the usual warm up. It
required a severe effort, but I managed to avoid staring at her. This time Hank
was absent, so once again we were easily paired, and Dan had us working full
out against each other, while he walked the line and supervised.
She faced me and bowed, and I followed suit. We weren’t
formal here, and she’d either adapt, or continue to wear that cute white gi and
bow. Freedom of choice, which I was soon going to take from her, I shook my
head, and almost missed her attack.
Dan was right. She is as skilled I am, but not as strong,
and not quite as fast. Which means that I managed to keep her from killing me,
without breaking her apart, if only just. After every five minutes of workout,
Dan gave us a couple of minutes to rest, massage aches, and attempt to restore
circulation to twisted limbs. That gave us some time to talk.
“So, let me guess. You’re half Korean, you’re 19, you’re in
college… on academic scholarship. Computer science? Dorm living?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Is Logan short for Sherlock Holmes?
It’s computer science and economics, but otherwise… how did you do that?”
“Well,” I smiled, “I could simply tell you that I’m a
wizard… Kim and Lee are the two most common Korean names, and you don’t look
100% oriental. You look mature enough to have finished high school, but not
over twenty, and since this is your first or second practice here, you just
moved. You’re smart, or I would really regret finding you quite so attractive,
and you looked a bit… lost. Computer science was a guess, in line with smart.”
She sputtered, not quite knowing how to reply. Dan signaled
for ‘break over’, and she spiraled down, sending a spinning kick at my left
heel. I jumped up, trying to kick down, and she rolled away and upright. “Are
you hitting on me?” she asked as she tried an open handed attack and elbow
combination. I dodged, blocked, and snap kicked at her knee, answering,
“Obviously,” barely managing to swallow incipient laughter.
Five more minutes of full contact, with me mostly on the
defensive, as I really didn’t want to deal any damage, left us both drenched in
sweat, breathing in gasps. Dan was trying to build endurance, he’d done this
sort of thing before. It’s dangerous, even with people who know how to pull
back, because when you’re tired, you make mistakes. Of course, sometimes you
have to defend yourself when you’re tired. No one is going to make apologies or
excuses on your behalf.
It sometimes amazes me, the fact that people in ancient,
medieval or even more recent times could fight in heavy armor, wielding weapons
that weigh several kilograms. We read about knights and Roman legionaries in
the history books, or romance or fiction, but nobody thinks about what that
sort of warfare required of the human body. The thickness of wrist required to
swing a heavy sword consistently for minutes, the strength required to draw a
longbow, again and again. Here and now, I’m counted as quite fit, in excellent
shape. Compared to our predecessors, I’m a wimp. It would take wizardry to make
me really impressive.
On our second break, we were too busy catching our breath to
talk much.
“Aren’t, you, supposed,” she took a deeper breath, “to ask
me out now,” she finished the sentence in a single gulp, wiping sweat from her
forehead.
“I have, a gorgeous, girlfriend, so I can’t. But I do, want
to talk to you, after class. Christine is here, taking beginner class. If you,
can spare, a few minutes.”
Her expression made it obvious that I’d hurt her, which was
the last thing I meant to do, but I wasn’t going to start things off by lying.
Even if she was ‘dreamgirl’ herself, I wasn’t going to just dump Chris, not for
anything. Crystal was right. I am intensely loyal. Which I suppose is one of
the reasons I never pursued a relationship before. I had trouble trusting
anyone to return the selfsame loyalty I exhibited.
“I’m sorry if I came on a bit strong,” I apologized, “but I
really do need to talk to you, and not just ‘let’s be friends’, I promise. I,
we, need to show you something.”
She wanted to spit out a refusal, that much was clear. Before
she could, I added, “I think I have a part time job for you.”
No, I wasn’t lying, I just wasn’t bothering with the truth.
Since she’d never believe the truth – hell, I wouldn’t have! – that was
incumbent upon me. I sometimes worried that I’d get too used to twisting the
truth, that I’d segue over to uninhibited lies without noting the downward
slope. But not today, I didn’t, as I had more important things to worry about.
Since she took Economics as a major, and was probably smart
enough, I had my apprentice – not just for magic, but to take care of the
‘family’ fortune, another thing I needed to delegate. She’d need instructions
and seasoning, but my gut told me she’d be more than adequate, and my version
of adequate was a high standard indeed.
“I… okay, we’ll talk. Later,” she added as Dan signaled that
the next round of the match was on.
I really should have avoided pissing her off. Eight
iterations of the five minute round of full contact left me in pretty bad
shape, though I did manage to avoid having anything broken. She had some
restraint, at least. Nor was she in much better shape. I’d mostly defended, but
when I did attack I kept nothing back, and my concentration on defense made my
strikes unpredictable. She certainly had the bruises to prove it.
With the lesson over, we stumbled away, completely wrung out
and dripping wet.
“Is this normal for a class?” she gasped out, “I’m not sure
I could survive two of this every week.”
“No, it’s unusual to have two of the same in a single week,”
I answered in a low voice, not trying to whisper, but to conserve energy.
“We’re practicing for self defense, which means that we need to prepare for
anything we might have to face, from knives and guns to multiple opponents, to
this. This was endurance training. The bad guys won’t give you any breaks just
because you’re tired.”
She nodded dumbly, and we took our things from the lockers.
“Come on, Criss and Cross will be waiting downstairs.”
“Crisancros?” she asked, confused.
“Christine, and her best friend Kristen. Who’s the cross
one, on account of her temper. They’ve been friends for years and years.”
“Oh,” she acknowledged, and followed my shuffling steps.
Criss and Cross were waiting for us, for me actually, and
while they looked tired, I was pretty sure they were not feeling octogenarian.
Everything hurt.
“Cheerist!” Chris called out, ran over to me, and hugged me
carefully.
“Who did that to you?” Kristen puffed up, looking at my
face. I probably had a black eye. She was good at pulling her blows, but she
wasn’t perfect, and fatigue had taken a toll on both of us.
“Actually, that was her,” I pointed behind me.
The identical belligerent expressions on the girls’ faces
would have had me laughing, were it not for the fact that I was actually
worried about her safety. I couldn’t be entirely sure that they wouldn’t cut or
flame her, not with my health involved.
I didn’t so much as take the luxury of looking back, to see
her response to their aggression, as much as I wanted to. I raised my open
hand, “Please, girls, calm down. I pounded on her, just as hard. Endurance
practice, full contact, and she’s good. And talented,” I emphasized, and the
light of understanding flickered in their eyes. They were still pissed, but
they stepped back to give us some room.
I performed the introductions, “Girls, this is Kimiko Lee,
or just Lee, and these,” I gestured, “are Christine and Kristen.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Lee said demurely, bowing her head
somewhat, still standing half hidden behind me.
“Now girls, be nice. This is a bit public, so please follow
me.”
I led them to an out of the way spot, a dead end no one
should visit. “Kristen, stand sentry if you would.”
“Ha?” Kristen just looked at me. Obviously, I’d have to
bring them up to date on terminology.
“Stand just outside, and tell us if anyone approaches,” I
told her, and smiled wearily at Lee in an attempt to reassure her. Kristen went
off, and I turned to look at Lee, struck again by her incredible beauty. This
was the deciding moment.
“I…” Lee started as Chris, standing behind her, put a hand
on her shoulder, “Relax,” she said in a light voice.
“Yes, take a deep breath and look at me. I’m going to show
you a magic trick, and I want you to repeat it. I know you possess the innate
capability to do so, so don’t worry about it.”
With that utterly inadequate explanation, I incanted clearly
and unleashed a stream of blue flame from my fingertip.
She had the most amusing look on her face, like a stunned
steer, looking like one of those cartoon figures who’d just taken skillet to
the face, chirping birds and all. Just like in a classic cartoon, she tried to
stagger back, and ran into Chris (or rather, Chris’ bosom), whose hands reached
around her and hugged her middle.
“Shhh…” she whispered in Lee’s ear, “You can do it, we know
you can. Try it.”
Still leaning back, with Chris’ hands around her midst, Lee
began her first attempt at spellcasting, repeating the words of the spell in a
quavering voice.
“You need to be calm,” I told her, “Try for serene. It will
come easily, but you need to regain your center. Peace and calm.”
That seemed to help, and she straightened herself and made a
more serious attempt. After only five attempts, she managed the firefinger
cantrip, and entered the world of wizardry.
“Lower your index finger to break the spell,” Chris said,
“it draws its energy from your bodily reserves, and I don’t think you have much
to spare at the moment.”
Lee nodded absently, blue eyes still staring fascinated at
the wavering line of spellfire, and dismissed the spell.
“What…” she coughed, and looked down, putting her hand on
the arm Chris was using to hug her close, and squirmed free.
“What is the meaning of this? It means that magic is real,
and you are a practitioner. We can’t really talk here. Understand that there is
an entire other world behind the comfortable mundane world you’re familiar
with, a dangerous world for a wizard coming into their power. Is there
somewhere you have to be tonight? Come with us, stay the night, and we’ll
explain.”
“I…” Lee started, looking around wildly, “I can’t believe…”
“Try it again,” I conjured a small globe of azure light and
then another, sending them spinning around her head. “No theatrical supplies,
no stage magic. It’s all real, and it’s part of you.”
She nodded sharply, and cast her one spell again, staring at
the flames in absolute fascination. We just watched, and nearly jumped when her
eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, the spell breaking as she started to fall
limply.
We caught her, and I checked the pulse. “Alive!” I told
Chris, and asked her to fetch Kristen. I remembered something.
I opened the book, and there it was. The very first of the
healing spells, and unfortunately it wasn’t much. The second circle life spell
allowed for transfer of life energy, between the caster and those touching him,
and the patient, a brute force technique. My first thought had been of the
strength spell, to allow me to carry her easily, but then I recalled that we’d
left the car back home.
I looked at the complicated drawings and scribbled lines of
throat twisting incantation, and shook my head. Too complicated to manage in
less than an hour, in ideal conditions. After casting it, I wouldn’t be in such
great shape, either. Probably incapable of driving.
“Well?” Kris sniffed, “You showed her magic exists and she
fainted?”
“No, Kris. This is what happens when you use too much magic
when you’re exhausted. She collapsed, but it was a minor enough spell that she
should regain consciousness soon enough. Let’s splash some cold water, and see
if we can wake her.”
I carried her to a convenient bench – she was surprisingly
light – and we managed to bring her around. As her long eyelashes fluttered, I
greeted her awakening with a small illusion, a tiger prowling on my palm. She
stared at it, eyes widening and mouth closed tight, until I dismissed the spell
and help her up.
“So,” Lee whispered, “Magic.”
“Magic, in very deed, and you need to learn a great deal
more. Do you have any extant obligations this evening and this weekend?”
She opened her mouth, and closed it, considering matters for
a moment. “No, not really, and even if I had, they couldn’t be more important
than this, right?” the corner of her lips stretched in a half smile.
“Correct. You can forget about your old life,” Chris
interjected, “It’s gone now. You’re with us, now and forever, a wizard.”
“Now and forever?” she blinked, as she slowly rose to a
seated position, looking sickly pale.
“Yep,” Kris answered, “According to Logan and his book, an
archwizard – which is what he’ll one day become – can keep a wizard young
forever, and even on her own, a wizard can live for centuries.”
“But that’s not quite as important now,” I interrupted.
“There are few things you need to know, here and now: magic can kill you if you
overuse it, and don’t ever try to teach anyone magic, even the most basic
spell, even after you can recognize talent. That could prove to be fatal. And
you should know that by virtue of being what you are now, a student wizard,
there are a great many beings who work towards your destruction. We’ll give you
an overview of what the wizard’s world is really like, at home. Let’s move, now
– you really need to eat something, Lee,” uttering that name in a friendly
fashion was deucedly difficult, but I managed to work my mouth around it.
But moving immediately was quite impossible. We spent a few
more minutes sitting and talking there, until she could walk. We talked of
lighter matters, introducing ourselves more completely, and she reciprocated.
An only child, Lee’s parents were entrepreneurs with
impossibly high expectations, with the double standard of ‘man of the house’
and ‘of course ours must be the best’, which left her understandably confused.
The use of corporal punishment, at the hand of her father, wasn’t helpful.
Adopting a meek and mild manner and attaining virtually perfect grades got her
parents off her back, but proved to be social suicide. Especially after she
crippled a would-be rapist, who made the error of looking only at the exterior.
Her father had insisted on martial arts training, out of some skewed sense of
tradition most likely, and that and computers proved to be her only real bits
of freedom.
She’d broken free just a month ago, by keeping her grades
just low enough to raise her parents’ ire, convincing them that what she needed
was a change of venue. She was quietly proud of that bit of deviousness. In
fact, she was quiet all around, keeping even her voice soft and mellow. It was
dramatically different from the females I was used to, and made me feel
strangely protective.
Our little conversation also helped me measure the effects
of the loyalty binding. Such forthcoming honesty was obviously unnatural.
“Do you feel well enough to cling to Logan’s back?” Chris
asked. Lee had taken the bus over, and meant to purchase a vehicle, but had not
yet found one that suited her budget.
“Would you mind if I called you Miko?” I asked her, almost
over-riding Chris’ words. “You’ve heard about my b… brat of a sister, and I
don’t want to remind you of your mother, either.”
“That’s fine, and thank you, yes, I believe I can walk,” and
proved it by rising, somewhat unsteadily. Kristen led our cavalcade, while
Chris and I supported Miko, and we walked downstairs slowly.
We were closing up on the bikes when they appeared, a trio
of quadrupeds running towards us. I caught them in my peripheral vision, and
their insides were those very same lines of energy that had kept the zephyr
together, different only in colour, complexity and thickness. They would have looked
like grayish-green dogs to a casual observer, but they somehow carried the
impression of bulkiness, of heavy strength and power. They weren’t clumsy, but
they lacked the startling speed of an air elemental. I started conjuring fire,
shaping its forming, even before I began to turn, and did not even bother to
look at them in the pure physical plane, wizard sight holding the entirety of
my focus.
Before they’d taken three more steps towards us, one of them
was down and smoking, heartweb a mass of flames. A second later, before I’d
gathered enough strength to cast a second spell, with the hounds still
advancing steadily, rather than at a run, a second stumbled, foot cleanly
severed. It required another heartbeat to recognize the echoes of Kristen’s voice.
The third hound bayed loudly, not a bark but something more
primal, a call to the hunt. It charged, running at a deceptively fast, ground
loping stride, and I had to jump aside as its run turned to a cartwheeling
tumble when I sliced its lifeweb to pieces. The last hound was running away,
having somehow regrown or regenerated the missing appendage. “Leave it to me,
Kris!” I didn’t even recognize my own voice, seemingly distant, as though
threaded through a curtain of glass. Flaming its insides was a trivial matter,
as it was just too slow to reach cover, the tangle of bushes from which they’d
erupted.
My heart was beating loudly enough that I could hear nothing
else, and my vision was growing cloudy. I dismissed the wizard sight spell, and
turned around to see a wide eyed Chris still supporting a dazed Miko.
“What was…?” the latter asked, so startled that she was
unable to so much as form a coherent question.
“Leafhouds,” I gasped out, “hunters and scouts from the
courts of wood. Chris, we need to burn the residue to nothing, or they’ll find
the remains and track us. Be sure not to step off the concrete,” I added.
Criss and Cross ignited the remains, anonymous clusters of
vines and leaves no one would look at twice, with a few more firestarting
cantrips, and conjured a soft breeze to disperse the ashes. “Do you think the
elementals can learn anything from the vegetation?” Chris asked.
I silently offered her the book, which I found on the ground
by my feet, and she read intently for a minute. None of us were in good shape,
and we took the time to stretch and regain a measure of calm.
“No, probably not, according to the book,” Chris said, “But
we’d better move it. The baying was a signal, and it could not have been
missed. Let’s burn some rubber,” she laughed, Kris and I grinning in response.
“What is so amusing?” Miko asked, and I pointed at our
transportation. She nodded briefly, signaling that she’d gotten the point, and
put on the helmet I proffered.
The ride home would have been tense, if I’d had the energy
to stay alert. I made a firm decision to keep a pack of emergency food,
possibly including those horrible energy bars and drinks, in each and every
vehicle. Another hound or two, and we might well have been overwhelmed.
It had by now become obvious that my understanding of the
dangers we faced was flawed. The elemental courts were not acting foolishly,
not at all. They probably had lesser, expendable minions scouting every human
habitation. When said minions failed to return, or reported the existence (and
possibly the location) of a menace, they probably employed larger numbers of
minor elementals or a single squad of the heavy hitters, which would be enough
to overwhelm most things. That was probably one reason the demons hadn’t
conquered everything.
The book’s statement that wizards were no longer actively
hunted had reflected the state of affairs in 1911, in certain specific
geographic locales. It was obviously not true, here and now. Considering the
convoluted intrigues and politics of the elemental courts, all I’d need to take
their attention away would be the assassination of the local rulers.
Unfortunately, once again, that was well beyond my capabilities. If the local
courts kept in contact, the disappearance of the pack and the zephyr might well
be connected. From now on, spell practice would take place in the… no, not the
basement, but wherever the book said was the safest place in the house.
We’d been lucky, all too fortunate, in surviving our first
encounters. Continuing to rely on fortuitous circumstances would whittle us
down very quickly. Lady luck is a fickle mistress.
Lee… no, Miko, needed help off the bike. Her eyes were half
lidded with exhaustion, signaling an incipient collapse. I supported her, and
helped her to a seat in the kitchen. The effort left me weaving on my feet, and
I had to lean on the counter for support while some of the leftovers heated in
the microwave. Criss and Cross soon joined us, having taken care of everything
in the garage.
Those two dug into the food with a will, but Miko and I had
to struggle. That we were too tired to feel hunger was dangerous, and she
seemed to realize the need for energy, as both of us forced ourselves to
listlessly munch, chew and swallow, without recollection of the taste.
“Miko, quite obviously, you won’t be able to absorb anything
now. I want to teach you a simple ritual that will allow for a much improved
sleep. Two hours of rest with that aid, and we’ll be able to talk. Do you think
you can learn a meditation and try it?”
Miko just nodded expressionlessly, and I set the book before
her. For a few more minutes, we rested there while she absorbed it.
“Chris, Kristen,” I looked at them, “While we’re catching a
bit of shut eye and recovering, you can start searching for someone to build
the shrines. Unless you’re too tired to work?” They shook their heads. “Oh, and
don’t cast any spells, not unless it’s an emergency. Gods know how far they’ll
search, and how well they can see.”
“Well, we’re done here,” Kris said, “so we’ll uncase our
laptops, set them up, and see what we can find.”
“I have the printouts for the shrine design. Do you have a
scanner?” Chris asked.
“In the library, you saw it. There’s a printout that
contains the network passwords and setup instructions in the drawer under the
scanner,” I suddenly yawned. “Well, time for sleep. Miko, do you have the
ritual memorized?”
She nodded, and we doddered together, supporting each other,
to the nearest bed. The book was there, in case Miko needed to review her
second bit of magic, but I just couldn’t wait. The yawn attacks made it
somewhat difficult to concentrate on the ritual, but I finally managed it, and
was out in an instant.
Waking up next to someone else, there in the same bed, was
still very new. She was leaning against me, curled inward in a fetal posture,
making soft sounds as she breathed. I flicked on the lights, and looked at Miko
for a moment, smiling at how kittenish she looked.
I nudged her softly on the shoulder, and then again, and
those incredible blue eyes flickered half open, her body stiffening in
confusion as she took in the unfamiliar locale and my presence.
“Relax, Mikey. Magic, remember?”
The abrupt widening of her eyes and a small nod indicated
that she did indeed remember.
“We really should have showered before collapsing,” I
sniffed theatrically, “but we can do that now. Okay?”
“Good idea,” she whispered back, “Where?”
I showed her to the bathroom my sister uses, the one with
all the pertinent female products (conditioner? A dozen choices of shampoo? I’d
never really looked), and took a quick shower of my own. Emerging into the
corridor in my ‘house uniform’ of slippers and shorts, I saw her standing
hesitantly and ill at ease, barefoot, a towel wrapped around her and standing
on her toes, looking around.
“Hey!” She jumped, clearly startled, “Sorry, didn’t mean to
sneak up on you. We’ll give you a full tour and a full explanation – you’re one
of us now – but you seem awfully tense. Care for a massage?” I moved closer.
“Ahhh,” she stated, and I didn’t give her a chance to say
anything more. “Excellent!” I grabbed her and lifted, carrying her to the
nearest bedroom. She really didn’t weigh all that much, or maybe it just felt
that way with the energy boost granted by enchanted sleep. She certainly was
tense.
I put her down gently on the bed, whisked the towel away,
moved her waist-length fall of hair aside, and began to work on her back even
before I started looking her over. Nude, from behind, she was absolutely
exquisite, and the feel of her was like satin over steel. Well defined muscles
and soft feminine curves, the prominent half moons of her behind nearly had me
drooling. For half an hour I poked, prodded, caressed and massaged every
available centimeter of her wondrous skin, kneading gently and firmly, finding
and smoothing the knots in her muscles, to the accompaniment of happy moans and
groans.
Why did I take the initiative, with her? I felt that she
expected that, and would accept and enjoy it. I wasn’t any sort of professional
masseur, but two summers past, my cousin Deirdre had spent the summer with us.
She’d just finished high school and had gotten into some trouble – boys or
drugs, I’m not sure. Mom’s sister sent her to us for ‘rehabilitation’. Deirdre
was quite the beauty, with darker blond hair than my other female relatives,
but all the associated curves, and she had an extremely distracting body, which
she didn’t bother to cover all that well. She was also quite shallow, arrogant
and unbearable, and I suspect Lee took a few pointers from her. She’d also
insisted on massages, at first probably just to tease me. Apparently, I had
some native talent, because the peremptory demands kept coming. Having my hands
on her was pleasant enough, if the teasing was not. Deirdre hadn’t liked not
being allowed to have people over, and took it all out on me, as I was the one
charged with enforcing that restriction. After a week, I mostly stopped talking
to her. Strange, to think of her now. After that summer, I’d never heard of or
from her, and Ellen had managed to quarrel with her sister, so it’s also been
nigh a year since I heard from aunt Vivian.
Playing with Mickey’s ass – Miko felt uncomfortably foreign
– had been particularly pleasurable, and not really part of the massage, but
after half an hour, my hands began to ache, almost as much as my dick. The
glimpses I’d gotten between the crack of her ass and the view of the fine,
sparse black hairs that covered her pussy, were an erotic high.
She was so relaxed, I had to help her into a robe, and she
clung to me like a limpet.
“Come on, Mickey, it’s time for the long and involved story.
I need your full attention for that. Do I have to wake you up to with some cold
water?” I raised her chin with a finger, until those intensely blue eyes were
looking at me, and smiled at her.
She blinked the dreaming away, and pushed back from me.
“You’re mean,” she said lazily and stretched, displaying remarkable
flexibility, “Now bring it on.”
Chris was sitting, staring at her laptop’s display and
moving the mouse around, but Kris had gotten distracted. She had opened one of
the ‘crates’ with the sex toys, and had a few of them strewn around on the
floor. The strong buzzzz of a butterfly vibrator masked our approach, and Kris
was examining a butt plug, biting her lips and frowning.
“Eager, aren’t you?” I slapped her butt, and she screeched
in surprise and rolled away.
“Fucker!” Kris threw the butt plug at me, and I dodged.
“So this is how you work?” I said menacingly, and advanced
on her. Chris was looking at us, eyes wide, and Mickey was staring at the toys
in amazement.
I caught Kris, hugged her tight, and slapped her on the ass
again. Resisting the urge to do a great deal more was frightfully difficult,
especially with the available selection of toys, but resist I did.
“Don’t worry, Kris,” I released her with an evil smile,
“You’ll become closely acquainted with all of them, I assure you. Now let’s sit
down, and tell Mickey all about her new existence. Mickey, put that down,” I
sighed loudly, and she jumped guiltily, the strange looking vibrator falling
noisily, “And join us.”
“Mickey?” Chris stared at me, incredulous. “I thought it was
Lee? Then Miko? Shouldn’t it be Minnie?” she giggled.
“What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet,” I retorted. “I find it comes easier to the tongue, and she,” I ran my hand gently through Mickey’s long hair, more pleasant to the touch than a cat’s fur, “does not object.”
We took her as yet unformed, inchoate comprehension of the
world of magic, and spent four hours fleshing it out.
“So, as you can see, we’re in real trouble. We’ve survived a
few sharp little encounters, mostly by luck rather than planning and skill. But
we haven’t really faced even the tip of the iceberg, just a floe or two.”
“Flow? Of what?” Kris asked.
“Not flow, ice f-l-o-e. Chunk of ice, floating on water. As
in, released from the glacier we can see on the horizon,” Chris explicated.
“So, we have to take even greater care. According to the
book, the houses we’ve seen, the general area is just barely suitable, and
there’s little difference between them. We all liked the last mansion we saw
best, and I’d like to minimize excursions, so that’s the one we’re buying.
Kris, the building of the shrines is now your job. Do us proud, and remember
how important precision is. Mickey will make sure we don’t go broke – I’ll
start instructing you on investments tomorrow, after we pick up your stuff from
the dorm. My parents will be back Monday, and we’ll go shopping on Saturday.
Christine, you’ll spend tomorrow teaching Mickey magic in the afternoon and
evening, everything you know, and help Kris in the morning. I’ll show Mickey
the financial situation, and begin teaching her how to handle it all on her
own. We’ll see how soon we can move in…”
“But,” Mickey interjected, “You said that I am not to teach
anyone magic, that it means death. Yet Christine, if I understand correctly, is
like me, a wizard potential, not an archwizard. Am I missing something?”
“No,” I thought back, “I must have misspoken. What I meant
was that you are not to introduce anyone to magic, turn them from mundanes into
student wizards, which learning the simplest cantrip is enough to accomplish.
Better?”
She nodded silently.
“Chris, I have another thing for you to do, in your copious
spare time. We don’t have any real military, intelligence, police or
investigation experience. I want you to pick up as much as you can on that, and
adapt it for what we can do, especially as regards what the few of us can do to
maximize our effectiveness as a unit. Prepare a list of equipment we might
need, training exercises, anything you can think of. Consult the book, as
necessary.”
“But I don’t…” Chris gaped.
“I realize you don’t have any experience with such things,
and that’s a good thing. I’ve read so much military and pseudo-military history
and fiction I have preconceptions. You don’t, and we’ll get to argue about
things. But you’re going to be our first general,” I grinned at her.
“Attention!” Kris barked and saluted Chris, who just leaned
back in her chair, shaking her head bemusedly.
“Let’s confine our spell casting to within doors, out of
sight of anything external,” I continued, “to avoid attracting more attention.
No spells out of doors, if you can avoid it, however much fun it would be,” I
looked at Kris, quite pointedly.
“Isn’t that a bit drastic?” Kris responded.
“Remember girls, behind every dark cloud is the blazing sun,
just waiting to burn your skin off. Being paranoid, pessimistic, always ready
for the very worse, will quite possibly allow us to survive the next few years,
until we grow powerful enough to hold our own. Even then, the thing to remember
with power is that there’s always a greater power, and that numbers can swamp
us under, too. I’ve had a few thoughts about recruiting, but that’s a long way
off. Any thoughts you’d care to share?”
“Those who are a bit older than the usual, but whose powers
can still be awakened – are they more powerful than most, or weaker?” Chris
asked.
“Ahem,” I looked it up, “Much weaker, it would seem. The
stronger you are, the sooner it ‘crystallizes’.”
“Pity,” She grimaced.
“Why not recruit, if we have an isolated location?” Mickey
asked.
“The more magic is used, the larger the signature. There are
wards and higher magics to mask such things, but it will be years before we can
cast them. The chances are improved if a small group of us becomes powerful,
and then quickly teaches others. You don’t really understand what ‘enhancement’
means. We can’t, not without experiencing the rituals, but an archwizard makes
Superman look impotent. Even our size will increase, more bodymass to handle
greater power,” I shook my head at the very thought of it. “I will be able to
enhance our students, so they’ll learn very quickly.”
“One thing we should do,” Mickey commented, “is choose an
alternate rendezvous should this place be compromised, and we need to split
up.”
“Good idea,” Chris nodded respectfully, “how about Paladin?”
“Paladin?” Kris asked, as I replied “No, that’s no good.
Find a good hotel not too far away, as we’d need a place to spend the night if
we’re chased away from here.”
“Paladin is that gaming store, I told you about it,” Chris
said, “And I’ll find you, us, a hotel, tomorrow”.
“Kris, tomorrow, set up escape supplies in all the vehicles
we use, together with food and drink packets, something that will keep. Even
energy bars and drinks. Or at least make a list of what we’ll need, and I’ll
show you how to order things.”
“Oh, that’s an obvious one,” Chris nodded approvingly,
“should have thought of that. I’ll help wi…” a yawn escaped her, “oops, sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry to have kept you up so late. Go to sleep, you
two, and I’ll start teaching Mickey how to steal.”
We exchanged ‘good nights’ and ‘sweet dreams’, and Chris
unobtrusively picked up a dildo from the floor, winking at us.
Mickey was goggle eyed, and I caught her staring at the toys
on the floor. A thought struck me.
“Have you ever experienced an orgasm?”
She fairly jumped, looked at me, lowered her eyes and
blushed. “I…, yes, but not with anyone else,” the words rushed out.
“Never played with toys?”
“No, I’ve never even seen one, not really,” she seemed
embarrassed almost beyond words.
“Do you want to?” I pressed her, snaking a hand inside her
robe and cupping a handful of perfect little tit, rubbing my thumb over an
erect nipple. I just couldn’t be patient anymore, not with her. The tugging on
my heartstrings, every time I looked at her, had my blood boiling.
Her head arched back, exposing the vulnerable white expanse
of her throat. “Yesss,” she hissed.
I almost tore the robe off her, and had trouble restraining
myself. I wasn’t gentle, but I managed to avoid being rough. I threw her back
on the couch, and licked, bit and fondled in a frenzy. She grew wet, producing
the occasional moan, and began developing an overall rosy blush. When I reached
her pussy, I stopped for a moment and cast a little spell, bringing an average
sized dildo and a vibrator to me. When I licked over the closed folds of her
beautiful pussy, she froze for a moment, before sinking back into the luxurious
sofa and parting her legs further, nails digging into pillows. I used my tongue
to part her labia and, ever so slowly, inserted the dildo. Her hips began to
undulate, her legs to flex, and I played with her carnelian tipped breasts as
she adjusted to the penetration.
I stopped to look at her for a moment, marveling at the
abrupt and tumultuous changes of the last week, eyes drinking the perfection
before me. There were no blemishes upon her soft skin, and the outstretched
pure girl-beauty before me held me spellbound. Blue eyes opened, pleading for
more, clenched mouth opening, to breathe, to speak.
With another little spell, her ass was now clean, and I
followed the trail of fluid from the bottom of her filled pussy to the winking
rosette of her anus, tonguing it full force as I flicked the vibrator on and
touched it to her clit.
How long I feasted and played around, occasionally forced to
restrain her from flying away or choking me with her thighs, I’ve no idea. I
was lost to time, drinking of her, smelling, touching. I forgot myself.
A tug on my ear brought me back, as she tried to inch away,
whimpering “Please, no more, enough, AHHH, please.”
I withdrew, face sticky with girl juice, and tossed the
vibrator away. Slowly, gently, I pulled the wet dildo, feeling the trembling
muscles in her stomach, and likewise threw it over my shoulder. I stripped,
laid Mickey out on the couch, and lay down next to her, skin touching skin.
Then I kissed her. My cock throbbed against her, as I invaded her quiescent
mouth with tongue, teeth and lips. I wanted her so much, I almost forgot. But
not quite.
“That which does not kill us, makes us stronger,” I laughed
softly into her ear, and nibbled on an earlobe. “I NEED relief,” I told her,
wheeling so that her weight now resided on me.
For a moment, she just breathed, still in gasps, into the
crook of my neck. Then SHE began to nibble and lick, laying an agonizingly slow
trail downwards, a sweet pain that had me straining almost out of my skin. It
was my turn to knife fingers into the upholstery, and groan. Even before she
reached it, my cock felt like it was exploding, and she had little time to play
with it before I spurted what felt like a full pitcher with a sharp cry. Eyes
closed, breathing harshly, it took me a moment to recall the need to practice
the sterility spell, as a prelude to the ritual. I felt her licking me clean,
in dainty kitten fashion, and sighed happily.
“I think we need another shower, Mickey,” I said when she
stopped licking and her small hands started to play with my limp cock.
“Sounds good,” she murmured as I started rising, and caught
her hands, raising her to her feet.
“You are so beautiful,” I spoke before I thought, and pursed
my lips. I think I was actually blushing, something I hadn’t suffered in a
while.
“You’re sweet,” she touched my cheek softly, smiling,
leaving me off balance. She was supposed to ask ‘Do you really think so?’ to
which I was supposed to reply, ‘if I hadn’t meant it, surely I’d have said it
before…’. Breaking off from the script left me speechless, and the fascinating
vision of her perfect behind, swaying as she walked to the shower, held me
hypnotized. Like a serpent to the sound of the flute, I followed, lacking
volition.
I washed her, lathered her, washed again, and she instructed
me on the care of her long hair. Hardly an onerous duty. Lacking toys, I
proceeded to lick her pussy, playing with her soft pubic hairs, and finger her,
the water a constant assault from above, until she tried to push me away, with
so little strength that she must have been truly exhausted.
But not exhausted enough to leave me tumescent and aching
with desire. Mickey definitely knew what she was doing. Sliding down to her
knees, her hot mouth and tight throat left me with a hint of what sex was
really like, as she swallowed my length with scarcely a hint of hesitation. The
warm, tight, milking embrace was maddening, and I couldn’t help but thrust,
fucking into her throat. Her nails dug into me, and we entered a rhythm, she
gurgling and slurping around my erection, me trying to hold on, with all my
will, to the wonderful sensations. It was not to be, could not last, and Mickey
swallowed the evidence of my lust with almost religious devotion.
After that climax, we just showered and cleaned up, paying
perhaps a bit more attention to certain portions of anatomy than was merited.
We decided that a tutorial of our business empire would just
have to wait for a bit more sleep. Cuddled up together, we meditated and
drifted away.
I woke up to a kiss, of all things, blinking sleep away to
stare into blue eyes. It took another moment before I started kissing back.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mickey grinned at me.
“A very good morning, I must admit,” I smiled back. “Are you
ready to study?”
She was, and she did. We had the by now usual spell-practice
breakfast, with the very cheerful and wide awake pair of Criss and Cross, and
Mickey’s contribution to our strategy discussion proved most penetrating. I
showed everyone how to order things, using my account, and ordered more
foodstuffs. Following that, we left the two working with laptop and
smartphones, attempting to find someone, anyone, who could build the shrines to
the exact specifications – and in a hurry.
I canceled our next two showings, and called Cynthia,
informing her that I was willing to pay 30% less than the price she’d mentioned
on the second house she showed us – but I could pay it fully and immediately.
She promised to get back to me.
Mickey did not approve or disapprove of my quite dishonest
means of gathering information. She digested the system I used so quickly, I
had to test her on it. After she showed that she understood the basic simulations
perfectly, I was so happy, I twirled her around in the air before kissing her
hard and putting her down.
“What was that all about?” she asked, a bit miffed, setting
her hair back in order.
“You’re a show-me-once girl,” I ruffled her coiffure again,
kissing her harder, “Do you have any idea how rare a treasure that makes you?”
Her attempt at reply was swallowed by a gasp, as I started kissing lower,
raising the t-shirt she wore and biting all around her nipples.
“Oh, yessss,” she hissed and her hands caught my hair,
guiding my mouth. I licked her until stiffened, and then again, but all my
arousal was mental. Quite simply, I couldn’t get it up, not after casting four
second circle spells during breakfast. When, still shaky, she knelt and fumbled
for my briefs, I caught her and shook my head.
“Alas, you’ll have to be satisfied with receiving more than
you give. Magic takes more serious toll on males,” I reminded her, not very
happy about that at all. Yet again.
Mickey was most contrite about the matter, and for some
reason seemed embarrassed. This looked like a good time to take a break, and we
caught up with the girls for a pre-lunch snack.
“We have a list of people and shops, so what we’re doing now
is calling them up, seeing if they’re up for a rush job at high pay, with a
generous bonus for exactitude and early completion involved,” Chris smiled. Put
that way, everyone would at the very least listen.
“Excellent work. I’ll take Mickey over in the car, we’ll
grab her things, then we’ll spend a few more hours on actual trades. Then I’ll
leave her to your tender care, Chris. How does that strike you?”
“That should work,” from Mickey, “OK,” from Chris and a
sarcastic “Just peachy keen,” from Kristen.
“You’d rather help Mickey with the spells?” Chris asked her
friend.
“Probably,” Kris replied, “but I can handle it. Don’t forget
to start reading all the military books, sir, general,” she added.
“Actually, Kris, I was browsing a bit on the subject, not
just doing your work for you,” Chris grinned.
“Treacherous slut,” Kristen growled, murmuring a further
litany of pejorative words I missed, as I went to dress and gather the
necessaries for another little trip. I wasn’t looking forward to leaving home,
however irrational that was. We weren’t really safe here, not much more than we
were outside, the protection of a true home notwithstanding. Right or wrong,
however, I FELT safe at home.
12
Mickey wasn’t impressed with my car, not in the least, but
she did display a healthy curiosity concerning the gadgets I’d installed.
Talking about those filled the hour’s drive to the campus so completely that we
were both startled to reach it so quickly. A glance at my watch showed that it
had not been quite as short a drive as we’d felt it to be.
The campus wasn’t completely deserted, but the usual hordes
of people were lacking, and the few students, visitors and lecturers walking
around looked almost furtive. Fetching Mickey’s suitcases from the dorm didn’t
take very long. Getting a full, authorized printout of her documentation from
the secretariat, on the other hand, was quite a chore. We’d talked about
signing her on to an online university, but we hadn’t quite decided on which,
and exactly what. To sign on with full credit for her courses, we needed the
documents.
Mickey nudged me gently when I stared openly at a truly
awesome redhead who clicked through the office we were waiting in, in high
heels. I blinked, thanked providence that Chris or Kris weren’t with me (I’d
had enough experience of their elbows and sharp kicks), and went right on
staring. The divine right of males everywhere, except of course Islamic
countries (unless they have a fetish for eyes and black cloth, I suppose). When
she disappeared, I put my eyes back in their sockets, and smiled weakly at Mickey.
“Truly… bodacious, ah?” she smiled back engagingly.
“I’ll say. Bold and audacious says it all,” I shook my head,
“and I’ll admit that she’s spectacular, if nowhere near as beautiful as you
are.”
“Right,” she managed to convey a great deal of doubt with
that single word.
“To me,” I clarified, “You’re a visual shock. You don’t
claim to understand how guys view beauty, surely?”
“Tits and ass?” she covered most of the subject, quite
succinctly. I couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping.
“Most guys, perhaps,” I smiled, “but like all stereotypes,
it is both right and wrong. I think, though I’m not certain – I remember
reading a couple of popular science papers – that those in fact are the things
almost everyone notices first. But beauty really is in the eye of the beholder,
much like tastes differ.”
“And you like redheads?” she asked.
“I like redheads just fine, and one in particular, but I
actually have this yen for raven haired girls. I don’t want you to get a
swelled head, my dear sorceress, but you’re about as close as I’ve ever met to
my ideal of beauty.”
She stared at me open mouthed for something like a minute,
almost as much in shock as in that moment she’d discovered magic.
“And yes, I actually mean it. Chris would be rather upset if
she knew, so please don’t repeat it. I could look at you for hours,” I added,
not really exaggerating.
“Just look?” she managed, in a tremulous voice.
“You’ll agree touching is better?” I waggled my eyebrows at
her, and she managed something that resembled a smile.
After dropping that bombshell, we waited in silence, Mickey
staring at me. I was starting to realize that I’d made something of an error,
prior to all the wizardly business. Here and now, with my ladies, I had the
wonderful freedom of being able to be absolutely open, saying exactly what I
thought, without any real possibility of getting hurt. I found that I very much
enjoyed their company, clothes shopping and bedroom games aside. I actually
missed spending more time with Chris, after those few days when we’d been
inseparable. I’d have to do something about that.
Before, I’d allowed my introverted nature to take over,
looking, if not very hard, for THE girl. Overlooking GIRLS. Or people, really.
Oh, I didn’t give all that much credit to the ‘blossoming wallflower’ legend,
but I’d never really given anyone much of a chance, never really tried to make
conversation. I didn’t think it was much of a mistake, as I couldn’t help but
overhear what they considered ‘conversation’ to be, but it was likely that I’d
missed a few rough diamonds, amongst the common stones. I might actually change
my ways, and look more carefully.
It didn’t take all that much longer before we had the
requisite documents stowed away, and I spent the ride back lecturing Mickey on
how I did my trading, and just as important, why.
We took a few plates of food with us, and I taught Mickey a
couple of first circle spells she could practice without doing any damage,
reminding her that the more she practiced, she stronger she would get. Then we
settled down for Market Analysis 101.
“I’m getting a bit hungry,” Mickey mentioned diffidently,
when I stopped lecturing for a moment and went looking for a spreadsheet.
“Ah?” I looked at the time. “My goodness, but we’ve overdone
it. Let’s do lunch,” I grinned and rose from the chair, stretched out a few
kinks, and help her up.
I questioned her concerning the profits she anticipated from
what we’d bought, and asked for an analysis of the risk. It was only when we
reached the kitchen that I noticed that we were walking hand in hand.
“I forgot to ask you,” I disengaged from Mickey and walked
up to Chris, massaging her shoulders, “But can you cook, Mickey?”
“Of course,” she blinked.
Of course, I’d forgotten. Mickey was raised with ‘man of the
house’ ideal of (mostly) old, so naturally she could cook. I bet she could sew
a mean seam, too.
“Good, we need to do some of that this evening. Better than
take out, and we’re running out.”
“Good idea!”
Kristen nodded enthusiastically. The culinarily challenged were always eager
for kitchen slaves.
“Girls, have
you spoken with your parents?”
Chris
nodded, and Kristen looked guilty.
“Kris,
really,” I shook my head, frowning at her, “Do you want to be yanked back home?
Start thinking, girl. Talk to your parents, tell them how hard we’re making you
study, but that you’re still having fun. Make them feel happy about you being
here. Tell them you’ll visit them tomorrow morning. Call them now, Kris,” I
said flatly, “Call them every day. Remind them that you’re still afraid, if
they make noises about you coming back home.”
Lips twisted
in indignation, Kris nodded, picked up her phone, and left, already dialing.
Mickey and I took some time to prepare edibles, while Chris updated us on the
progress of the shrine project.
We spent
several hours cooking, eating, and casting spells. Mickey picked new spells up
very quickly, and I managed to cast two new second circle spells, and make
significant progress on completing the three common first circles.
“Kris, time
to make some more headway on the shrine project. Mickey, I place the book in
your hands. Study, ask questions, learn new spells, anything you can think of.
Make notes, if you find anything that looks important, or anything you believe
we might not have thought of. Chris, if you’ll come with me,” I stretched my
hand and helped her up. Her eyes were crinkled in puzzlement, but she followed
me to my room, without question. I sat on the bed, brought her down on my lap,
and kissed her warmly on the mouth. After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed me
back enthusiastically, and we traded tongues and almost bruised our lips before
the urgent need for air made us part. Her soft, full ass ground into me as I
hugged her.
“Whooo,”
Chris breathed, “What was that all about? Not that I object,” she hastened to
add.
“Do I need a
reason to kiss you?” I asked with a wry look. “I just missed you. We haven’t
spent quality time together since yesterday morning.”
“Very
smooth,” she nodded admiringly. “Admit it, you just want to play with my tits
again. Mickey doesn’t…”
I growled
and dropped her on the bed, nuzzling her neck. Chris squeaked, slapped me on
the side of the skull, and struggled to remove her shirt. We touched, and
kissed, and I got to play with her tits.
“I’m going
to take care of a little business,” I leaned over her, running fingers through
her hair and teasing her left nipple. I kissed her nose, and then softly on the
lips. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”
“Was there
anything else?” Chris asked, sounding strangely content. I’d have thought she’d
want a bit more play.
“Well,” I
chewed my lip, “it’s a bit embarrassing,” I looked into her eyes, rueful.
“I’ll try
not to laugh,” her lips twisted with effort, trying not to smile.
“Humph,” I
snorted. “I’m sure you remember that our little ritual, with the shrines and
all, will involve us…”
“Making
love? Fucking? Boffing our asses off? Engaging in intercourse?” her voice took
a formal tone. “Copulating, fornicating, screw…” Chris left off and started
giggling.
“You got it
in, ahem, several. But the point, ahh,” I paused when she grabbed my point, “is
that I need to cast the spell, activate the ritual, at the moment of climax. Do
you have any idea how difficult that is?”
Chris went
somber. “No, but I’ve been looking at the wizard sight spell, and it’s a real
doozy. I don’t want to even think about third circle spells. And casting it at
climax?” she looked extremely doubtful. “Is it humanly possible?”
“Only just,
I suppose,” I tried to shrug, but lying down, what with Chris playing with my
cock, that resulted in more of a shoulder gyration. “The thing is, there’s a
second circle life spell, one that is also supposed to be cast at climax. It
sterilizes the sperm. I’ve tried to cast it, but never even came close to
making it work. I need help to, ahem, practice.” It was awfully embarrassing,
having to articulate that. Doing it was wonderful, why was talking about the
details so hard?! Damned acculturation.
“So you need
lots of blowjobs?” Chris asked innocently.
“Any
sacrifice for the advancement of the science of magic,” I replied blandly, and
we held each other’s eyes, trying hard to keep from smiling. Then I reached and
tickled her, and the laughter started, turning slightly hysterical.
“Ooooh,” she
wiped a tear away, “You do the ‘sacrifice for science’ act so well,” another
giggle escaped her. “Now let’s see how I can help,” she reached for my shorts,
and I caught her hands.
I shook my
head, and I’m pretty sure the cast of my face was dark. “That’s the real problem.
Even the best stimulation, even you, can’t help me, not after several hours of
spellcasting. Remember?”
“Oh!” she
nodded slowly, “That is a problem. Every morning, after a good sleep, you can
go at least twice, right? And after lunch and the usual magic session, take a
nap. That’s at least another one, right? With a minimum of three a day, you
should be good to go when the shrines are built and emplaced.”
I opened my
mouth and closed it. For some reason, I hadn’t expected her to be so…
practical. I remembered the book’s advice, exchange of bodies in lieu of
homosexual relations, and decided here and now that I needed to spend time as a
girl. Straight out of the assassin’s handbook, there was no better way to ‘know
thine enemy’. Recalling John Varley’s Steel Beach, those ‘Sex Gate’ books, and
numerous other bits of transgender fiction I’d read, which were, of course,
entirely theoretical, I decided it probably wouldn’t be that bad. I mean, lots
of people survive being female just fine, right? And I could always change
right back. My… ego, identity, whatever the correct word was, was not really
tied to my body. I had enough proof to trust that the soul was something real,
not a miscegenation of rabid theologists and mummers who read tea leaves. I was
decidedly non-macho, which either indicated that I did not lack self confidence
(I mean, I have no idea how long my dick is. Never bothered to measure it…), or
that I was more in touch with my feminine side. Bullshit aside, it would
happen. It required spells from the second circle of mind, the third if the
exchange was involuntary, but I’d get there eventually.
“Sounds
reasonable,” I said and lowered my head, taking a nipple into my mouth and
sliding her shorts off. She co-operated, raising her hips, and began to tremble
with anticipation as my lips drifted down.
“Yes,
please, lick me, do it, my pussy,” she panted, crying out in religious abandon
when I took a small vibrator I’d stashed in a pocket and pinned it to her clit,
while licking her with abandon. I played her like a lute, raising her
excitement to the breaking point with lips and tongue, filling her and
strumming on her sensitive spots with clever fingers, and then moving the
vibrator away, letting her slide away from the peak. Before, I’d always been
impatient, too enchanted with newly unveiled feminine mysteries to really do it
properly, running the race to orgasm. Taking my time, this time, touching all
over, pinching, biting and licking, I wanted to make her explode. Again and
again I let her slide off from the edge, ignoring her pleading words, until she
could not even blubber. Christine was truly beautiful, writhing in my grasp,
eyes clenched closed, her face twisted in a yearning that was almost pain.
Finally, I let her climb, pumping fingers, and bit hard on a nipple when she
reached the apex, pressing the vibrator hard against her special place.
Her back
arched, and she nearly threw me off as she convulsed, again and again. Her
mouth opened, but there was no air left for screaming. Slowly, it tapered off,
her shudders growing smaller. Sweat streamed off her, and I fetched a
washcloth, rubbing her dry. She winced as I gently touched her crotch,
absorbing some of the copious amount of moisture she’d leaked.
“And you,”
her voice sounded scratchy, “said that WE would kill YOU. Oh my god, what did
you do to me? I almost blacked out. Kris is better with a tongue, I think, but
this…” she shook her head.
“I read that
you could delay orgasm, building the sensations up higher and higher. It’s easy
for me, because with wizard sight, I can see inside, know when you’re coming to
a boil. Is Kristen really better at oral sex?”
“Ahem,” she
blushed a bit, the flush not truly faded from her skin, still breathing
rapidly, “I think so. I mean,” she added apologetically, “she’s a girl, she
simply has better instincts.”
“It’s
alright, I’m not offended by truth. And Chris, one thing a wizard can do is
exchange bodies. If you wish, you’ll learn what being male is like, and one
day, I’ll have those instincts. That’s a promise.”
She stared
at me, mouth sagging open in wonder, then her eyes brightened as she began to
consider further ramifications of that ability. “Whoo, that’s really scary.
Wizards can possess people?”
“Yes, of
course it’s subject to abuse. That is the nature of power, Chris.”
“Right.
Anyway, how was Miko, no, Mickey?”
“Really,
Chris, you don’t have to worry about anyone. I…” just couldn’t utter THOSE
words. “Remember,” I took a different tack, “if I want anyone, you can always
BE that someone. You’ll be able to look like anyone, be anyone. I’ll never grow
bored with you. A thousand years from now, we’ll still be together,” I omitted
the caveat, ‘if we’re still alive’.
Chris
frowned, then nodded. “I suppose,” she wrinkled her nose, “we’ll just have to
see. But that didn’t answer my question,” she looked at me, lashes half
lowered.
“She’s more
experienced. I like her a lot. Mickey also seems, well, a bit submissive. It
was different. Do you like her?”
“Well, yes.
I mean, the poor girl! We’re definitely the best things that ever happened to
her. There are so many sad stories, we’re just so lucky. I’ll hint a bit, when
I’m teaching, we’ll laugh over the toys. You really don’t know if she likes
girls, do you?”
“No, but
I’ll help you,” I recalled that I could shape the responses of my disciples,
and this was one area I had no compunctions about interfering with. I didn’t
think I was being hypocritical. If I could change my instinctive revulsion at
the thought of homosexual relations, I probably would. Pleasure, to me, was
pleasure, the source of it mostly irrelevant so long as no harm was done. But
there was no simple way to change those prejudices that ran deep.
“Does
submissive turn you on?” Chris asked cautiously.
“Yes, of
course, it’s a heady sensation. It also makes me feel very protective, you
know, like, she’s mine, belongs to me. A completely normal reaction, I’m sure.
But likewise, everything about you turns me on,” I grimaced. “Mentally, at
least. You can try submissive and see if it suits you, but don’t go there
purely on my account.”
“Oh, I’ll
try anything at least once,” Chris grinned, finally settling to mellowness. “I
think Kris would really like being tied up and ravished. When are we going to
play with her?”
“You’re
quite the predator,” I grinned right back. “Sunday, if that suits you.”
“Why not
tomorrow? Oh, we’re actually going to Paladin?” she was thunderstruck.
“Of course.
Would you enjoy the games any less, now that you know that some of it is real?”
I smiled at her.
“Ah, no, I
don’t think so. It would actually give things an ironic tinge,” her smile grew
slowly.
“I’m not
going to let anything rush me, if I can avoid it. We’ll have to give it up in a
few weeks, I’m sure, but I think your father will be happy to see you again. I
don’t like to just… toss off obligations I’ve undertaken. Anyway, it’s time and
past time, I need to go. Have fun teaching Mickey!”
I kissed her
again, and went off to wash and dress. In black slacks and a white shirt, added
a leather jacket, changed colours and grew a beard in front of the mirror in
the bathroom. I told Mickey and Kris that I was off, went to the garage, and
chose a different motorbike this time. I just might need speed. Dad used to
ride a lot, and we still had his old Honda Fireblade. He still liked to ride it
fast, every now and then. I was almost too short to use it comfortably, and I
didn’t really like the loud screaming red paint, but it was much faster than
the trike. I thought about changing the colour, but it wasn’t really mine, so I
just changed the letters on the license plate (just in case), took the matching
helmet and drove off.
I didn’t
feel good about going on this hunt, deliberately murdering someone in cold
blood. Sure, he deserved it, rapist that he was. On the ride over to Kristen’s
home, I tried to see what made me feel that murder, here and now, was wrong.
Probably my overdeveloped sense of fair play, as the bastard didn’t have any
chance of survival. A sense I could not really afford. I was insanely
protective of what I considered mine, and I knew better than to think that
Kristen wasn’t, and that was all there was to it. When I got closer, I shrugged
it off, and started looking around for him. It was early afternoon, and there
was a good chance that Richard would be playing soccer. I’d walked around the
area when I waited for Criss and Cross to deal with the latter’s parents, so I
knew where to go.
The small
soccer field, which doubled as a basketball court, was mostly empty, a few kids
playing there. I walked around, taking another look, just in case, and then
drove off. Richard lived in a very affluent neighbourhood, and getting to see
him if he was home would not be simple. They probably had someone to answer the
door, and I’d need an excuse to speak with him. Naturally, I had one. I’d
prepared a couple of legal documents, supposedly for a Richard with a slightly
different last name, with an address that looked superficially identical. I
meant to discover my error when I saw him, as he’d be the wrong person to sign
a declaration of trust concerning shares in an imaginary company.
I was
somewhat disappointed to find that he was not home, and refused an offer to
leave my delivery there for him, explaining that I needed a signature. The
maid, a very cute girl, said that she didn’t know where he might be, but that
he’d probably be back for dinner. That gave me three hours to waste, but I’d
anticipated the possibility. Ellis Wright had yet to send me information about
the books I’d asked for, and I’d brought the list with me. There were several
bookshops I could try, and that is what I spent a few tedious hours working on.
I was not entirely surprised to discover nothing whatsoever. The salespeople
had mostly goggled at the list. I did remember to phone Chris, telling her I’d
be late. What I needed to do next was investigate occult shops, new age stuff.
Crystals, ouija boards and tarot, not exactly my kind of stuff. I decided to
send the girls on that mission, next week, after they mastered wizard sight.
When I
returned to his house, I noticed a light in a second story window, and cast a
first circle life spell that sharpened the sight. It only worked within 50
meters, but within those bounds, it was quite effective. It was that simple.
Instead of the liver, in which an internal cut might well cause a furor, I
delicately sliced a number of small arteries in the brain. Death from the
rupture of multiple cerebral aneurysms was unlikely to raise suspicion. I
blinked and shook my head. That was all there was to it. But there was no time
to dwell on the issue. I needed to be gone, and quickly. The elementals
patrolled in the darkness, and they could sense magic.
I drove much
faster than my wont, not daring to dismiss wizard sight. I would not allow
myself to be followed home without my knowledge, however dangerous holding onto
it might prove. Twice, I stopped. Not just to look around in jerky movements
that told me exactly how frightened I was, but for serious amounts of takeout.
A single session of magic practice and study made an incredible hole in our
food supplies, with four of us in the house.
The third
stop, for a few long Subways, was a quick one. I was heading back to my bike,
when I heard a choked off scream, coming from behind the parking lot. Instead
of getting on the Fireblade and looking the other way, the sensible thing to
do, I starting running towards the noise. I couldn’t help but remember thinking
of how people don’t want to notice, don’t want to get involved, after taking
out the demons in the burger joint. I’m not an ardent admirer of humanity, and
I didn’t want to be like ‘them’. Musing about heroes and tombstones, I slid to
a stop in a dilapidated looking courtyard, where five guys were playing toss
with a girl. It was dark enough that I concentrated on wizard sight, so the
colours in the real world were indistinct. One day I’d get the hang of real
double vision. I sighed in relief – these were ordinary people, not demons or
anything supernatural.
My first
instinct was to take out the baton, and go in swinging. There was enough noise
that they hadn’t heard me, and with her blouse torn, a firm breast poking out,
they weren’t mounting much of a lookout. I squelched the instinctive reaction,
and took out my little pistol. I bit my lip, hard, and nodded to myself.
Couldn’t afford any mistakes, just couldn’t. I cast the spell as carefully and
precisely as I could, and could actually feel the drop in my energy levels,
could see the colours of my aura dimming slightly. But I felt wonderful,
impossibly graceful. I could dance on the head of a needle, could make a
professional acrobat green with envy, I was as graceful and quick as a zephyr.
The spell enhanced my reflexes, my speed, balance, flexibility, agility and
gave me a feeling of controlled skill and coiled power that was intoxicating. I
remembered the book’s tales of the cruelties of the Conclave, and could
suddenly understand. This was just the first stage of enhancement, the very
beginning, and only a single component of it. It was exhilarating, facing people
who didn’t have a hope of touching me. No, I didn’t really think I could dodge
a bullet, not even in this state, but I could be where they weren’t aiming.
What would it be like to be a full wizard or archwizard, to know that ordinary
people just weren’t… weren’t anything, not compared to you. I shivered in the
cool air, hoping that I’d always remember to avoid taking so much as the first
step in that direction, and doubting, not trusting myself. The realization that
I was probably going to turn into a monster, later if not sooner, was a sudden
chasm opening beneath my feet. Perhaps the girls would be able to help make it
later. But first there was a girl I could help.
Extended
baton in one hand, pistol with safety off in the other, feeling awfully
cowboyish, I stepped forward and hit a wall with the baton, hard enough to make
a very loud noise.
One of them
turned quickly, reaching inside a jacket for what I could see, through the
leather, was a pistol shaped object. I reacted before I could think about it, and
he was falling, the small noise of the shot dissipating, before I noticed that
I’d shot him. Not merely shot him, but killed him, shot right through the eye.
Deadeye Logan, at your service, Ma’am. I pointed the non-smoking pistol at the
remaining four, smiling hard enough to show white teeth in the darkness.
“Fucker shot
Bruce!” One of them shouted, turning to look at the corpse. The others were
reaching for what were doubtless instruments of mayhem.
“Gentlemen,
and I use the word in the loosest sense, if you take out anything sharp or hot,
I will kill you,” I announced.
“We’ll kill
the bitch,” the one who was holding her snarled, tightening his grip on her
slender throat.
“Did I say
something about the girl?” I asked in my most amused tone of voice. “There are
plenty of girls around. This one isn’t worth anything to me,” I told them the
truth. She had no magical potential at all. “On the other hand, I’d vastly
enjoy killing you all. I’ve only murdered two people today, thus far. But then
I’d need to collect all the bullet cases, looking for them in the dark, in this
malodorous locale. That would take time, and MY girls are waiting for me. So in
the interest of saving time, you may run for your lives. This time.”
“What’s the
A-hole saying?” Another of them asked, and I could almost taste the fear in his
words.
“He’s saying
go bye bye, moron, and leave the girl, and you get to keep breathing. This
time. You might want to think twice about the practice of rapine and robbery in
general, and take retrograde action,” I responded coldly.
“Retro…,”
the beefiest of them, the one holding the girl, repeated. I shot him, once
again hitting the eye, before he could finish the word, and he collapsed,
dragging the girl down with him, splattering her with blood and brains. She
shrieked, but it wasn’t much of a shriek as shrieks went. Chris could give her
lessons on shouting. Of course, her throat probably wasn’t in the best of
conditions.
“You’re
wasting my time, dimbulbs. I’m counting to three, and wasting you all when the
count’s done. One,” they woke up, “Two,” and they were running off.
I didn’t
actually have to search very hard for the bullet cases, and had them in my
pocket in a couple of seconds. I turned and began to walk back to my bike,
seriously thinking about not mentioning the entire matter to anyone.
“Wait,
please,” the girl had disentangled herself from the corpse, and was on her
knees. She was blonde, young, and probably pretty enough in the ordinary course
of things. With unidentifiable body-bits splattered all over her, tearful red
eyes and smeared makeup, she looked horrible. “Please, you can’t just leave me
here.”
What I
wanted to do was say ‘Watch me’ and just walk away. Which is what I should have
done at the very start. I really didn’t care about a blonde norm bitch stupid
enough to get herself into such a position. But she was right, I couldn’t just
leave her here, not and walk away with a clear conscience and without a sour
taste in my mouth. Morality’s a bitch, and suddenly I didn’t care about
secrecy. Not with elementals probably winging their way down here, not with me
scattering corpses everywhere. I felt fey, drunk on death. I looked at the two
bodies, and turned them to fine ashes with fire magic. I looked at the girl,
and cleaned her up with a housekeeping spell.
I walked up
to her, took her limp hand, and help her up to her feet. She was half a head
taller than me, cornflower blue eyes shot with red. I closed the torn blouse
over her bare breast, not bothering to look at her nakedness, and mended it
with another spell.
“Come with
me,” I semi-dragged her behind me, into the lighted street, in front of the
Subway, next to my bike. I always carried a spare helmet.
“Do you need
a ride somewhere?” I asked her in a gentle tone.
“I…,” she
stared at me for a moment, eyes dilated, chalky pale, and started sobbing. I
hugged her to me, because that seemed like the thing to do. I really hate weepy
females. “Hush, it’s okay, they’re gone, you’re safe, hush,” I whispered into
her ear as I held her close and patted her back. I was very unhappy with the
situation.
“No, no,”
she hiccupped, “I don’t have anywhere to go, not really. I ran away, I was
hoping to reach my grandmother, but now I don’t have any money, anything, they
took my purse,” she started crying again, more softly.
Everything I
didn’t want to hear. There really wasn’t much of a choice. “Do you want to come
with me? I can put you up for the night, you can think about what you want to
do tomorrow.”
“I…,” she
stiffened and tried to back off, and I let go of her. “I don’t know,” she
hesitated.
“I’ve got
three girls back home, and if you make a move on me, they’ll kill you,” I
informed her, as matter of fact as I could.
She blinked,
a tiny half smile wrinkling the corner of one lip. “Really? Shouldn’t that be,
if you make a move on me, they’ll kill you?”
“Nope,” I
answered flatly, “I’d never do anything of the sort.”
Blue-eyed
blondes, courtesy of my sister, were something I preferred to avoid. And I
really had no interest in a norm. I finally had people I could trust, and the
thought of getting involved with someone who wasn’t a wizard, who wasn’t bound
to me, was distasteful. I honestly didn’t believe she could seduce me, however
hard she tried, and had no intention of allowing her to make an attempt.
My reply
seemed to annoy her. “I’m not a slut,” she declared, back suddenly straight.
“Ah?!” I
grunted at her. “What does that have to do with anything? Anyway, my girls are
waiting, and I have things to do. Are you coming, or not? I can leave you
enough cash for a bus ride, if you want to go, continue on your way to your
grandmother,” I started reaching for my wallet.
“No, I’ll
come with you,” she manage a ghost of a smile, and I managed not to groan in
frustration. I thought I’d managed to get rid of her. I wasn’t completely
insensitive. Normally, I’d have pulled her in for something hot, and maybe some
food, in the Subway, let her calm down. But not with elemental hunters on their
way.
I started to
toss the spare helmet at her, and she flinched, so I took a couple of steps,
and handed it to her. “Need help to put it on?”
“No, I’m
alright,” she started fumbling with it.
I waited
until she was ready, then helped her on, and started to drive away. The grace
spell was still active. I moved like a dancer, and drove like a maniac. I could
thread through traffic with impossible ease, it almost felt like a computer
game. I knew where the speed traps were, and slowed down at the right places.
It was exhilarating, a wonderful release of tensions, and my heart was beating
rapidly. This was the real reason I drove a speed-crippled trike. It was just
too much of a temptation, having a fast machine. I was something of a speed
junkie.
I used the
stops at the traffic lights to look around and up, making sure there was no
pursuit. My eyesight was likewise still enhanced, and I was getting something
of a headache from the combination of sharpened vision and wizard sight.
The gate
slid aside, and I roared my way into the garage. The girl’s arms around me were
starting to hurt, she was clutching my middle so hard. I pried her off and help
her down, and her feet almost gave way. She managed to lean against a cabinet,
avoiding a nasty fall. “You’re mad! Insane! How could you drive like that?!”
I felt her
eyes burning on me, and allowed every movement, as I returned everything to its
place, as I walked to the door, to show just how graceful I was. I didn’t walk,
I danced, flowed across the room. At the door, I turned, changed the license
plates back, and dismissed everything other than wizard sight. Pain blossomed.
I bit my lip, to keep from screaming. Muscles and sinew suddenly protested at
what I’d asked of them, and it hadn’t been all that much. Coming off it after
doing something serious would have really hurt, I was pretty sure, and I had to
wipe away leaking tears. It was my turn to NEED a massage. I made myself stand
back upright, and looked at the girl. I didn’t even want to know her name, I
wanted her out of my life.
She was
staring at me, wonder shining on her face. I shouldn’t have tried to show off.
It always ends badly. “Come on,” I managed to squeeze out, “time to meet my…,”
I swallowed ‘ladies’ down, “friends.”
13
While slowly
walking to the kitchen, where I was sure to find at least two of the girls, I
decided to let her see real magic, learn that magic exists. She was alone,
vulnerable, and if she started talking, she’d spend a long time in the loony
bin before recanting. I wanted to see how she’d react, because my parents were
coming back; they’d be here in three short days. I wasn’t sure just how much I
was going to tell them, if anything. It was yet another weight on my back.
As the
thought of introductions arose, I shook my head at the rudeness I’d exhibited.
Sure, I might not want her around, but completely avoiding an introduction, not
even asking after her name, just wasn’t typical of me. I spun, raising a
calming hand as she gasped.
“Please,
there’s no need to worry. I want to apologize for failing to introduce myself.
I’m Logan Reeves, and this is my parents’ home. They’re abroad at the moment,
and they’ll be back on Monday. Do you want to freshen up first, or eat? And
what is your name?”
“Oh, ahem
yes, sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m Trish, well, Patricia actually, but no one
ever uses that. I think I’d like to eat and drink first, I’m really dry,” she
added hesitantly.
“Well,” I
raised the takeout bags, “that shouldn’t be much of a problem. I’m quite hungry
myself.”
Christine,
Mickey and Kristen were all sitting at the kitchen table, eating, talking, and
juggling balls of varicoloured light. I could feel Trish freezing up behind me,
and dropped the bags. Using my peripheral vision, I snaked a hand behind and
caught her wrist, bringing her to the fore.
The bags
falling made enough noise to penetrate the girls’ conversation, and I was
surprised that it was Kristen who ran up to me, jumping and hugging me tight. I
released my grip on Trish and hugged her back, and Kris’ arms wrapped around my
head, bringing me in for a wet kiss.
“I think I
did it!” She said loudly, “There’s this old guy, a semi-retired machinist and
carpenter, he does reproductions of old things, anything from steam engines to
custom order bondage gear. He’s got a workshop on the other side of town, near
the warehouses, and I faxed the blueprints over. Found him on the internet, he
has a website, and he e-mailed back, saying that he could do it. It’ll take him
a couple of weeks, a minimum of ten days, even with top pay. I gave him the go
ahead, stressing ‘the need for precision’,” she spouted breathlessly, mimicking
Chris’ voice for the last few words.
“And who is
she?” Chris and Mickey had gotten up and stepped closer, and Chris was looking
at Trish. Mickey was focused on me, and brought a savory little pastry she had
in hand to my mouth. I took it, and made a show of biting down on her finger,
licking crumbs away. She laughed softly, and retreated when Kris growled at
her.
“Let’s sit
down, I’m starved. This is Trish, untalented, and she needs a drink.”
“Yeah, I could
use a shot,” Trish said. “Hey, what were those coloured things you were playing
with?” she asked Chris.
“Dancing
lights, a very minor spell conjuration. Trish, these are Christine, Kristen,
and Mickey.”
“Spell?”
Trish gaped.
“How did you
get so clean? What happened to the bodies? What do you think this is?” I cast
my very first spell again, calling up a small fountain of bubbling fire from my
raised index finger. “We’re wizards, the real thing.”
Perhaps I
was a bit too direct, or more likely, Trish was at the end of her rope. Her
skin waxy pale, she tottered and collapsed in a faint. My arm still full of
(and moving all over) Kris, I was in no position to catch her, but Chris
managed to keep her from banging her head on the floor.
“Bodies?”
Kris demanded, while the four of us manhandled Trish into a chair. I held her
head upright, and wet her lips using a glass of coke, but she didn’t wake up. I
decided to let her rest for the nonce.
“I thought
we were going to keep things secret?” Chris asked in a breathy voice, still
exercised from the weight she’d held up and helped carry.
“She’s
confessed to being a runaway, said she was on her way to her grandmother and
was robbed. Five gangers were this close,” I held two fingers a millimeter
apart, “to raping her, and I shot two of them. Ashed the bodies, so they’ll
have simply disappeared. It was dark, I didn’t look like myself, and was even
wearing the bike gloves, so I don’t believe there’ll be any traces. I tried the
grace spell I told you about, it left me all cramped up, and I need to eat.
Then I’ll get rid of the beard and get into the tub, damn but that would help.
As for showing her magic, Chris, who’ll believe her?”
“A point,”
she admitted grudgingly, “but that’s not why you did it,” she looked at me
suspiciously. Mickey, meanwhile, cast the spells that would return my skin and
eyes to their original colour, fetched me a large plate with some of the food
I’d brought, and began putting the rest away. She was also listening intently,
and I shot her a fond look. I never really looked at her body, however splendid
it was. When I was gazing at her, it was always at the enchanting perfection of
her face.
“True,
true,” I smiled back at Chris, “I told you my parents are landing on Monday. I
don’t know what to tell them, if anything. My lawyer’s dealing directly with
Cynthia by now, but I don’t think we can move into the new house, not yet.”
“And
speaking of the new house,” Chris looked thoughtful, “why spend so much money
on a wonderful place, when the ritual will tell everyone that that is exactly
where we are?”
“Ah, but
that is the wonderful thing about it. The ritual is a powerful enough magic to
leave a lingering aura, so the other magics we work there will not make anyone
look twice. And there’s a third circle spell that will mask our magical auras
temporarily. I’ll use it immediately after the ritual, which will take place in
the outdoors, far from the house. We’ll finish the ritual, run back to the
house, hide beneath the shield with wizard sight active to tell us when they’re
gone, and let the elementals look. They’ll see nothing, ordinary people, and
start widening the search. How likely are they to bother the sleeping old
people we’ll look like under the illusion we’ll have ready? And how likely are
they to search our manor again? Our biggest asset is their arrogance. They
haven’t been really challenged in millennia, and they probably can’t conceive
of a challenge rising. They’re used to everyone being deadly afraid of them.
Which we are, if we have any sense,” I looked the girls in the eyes, and they
nodded somberly. “The thought that anyone would be willing to hide in the open,
beneath their eyes, would never occur to them. It’s a gamble, but so is our
survival, in any case. What do you think?”
“It will
work,” Mickey said instantly, “I’m sure of it. If we manage the technical end,
which should not prove too difficult, we’ll fool them. It’s a brilliant plan. I
have some experience with how that kind of arrogance thinks and acts. Guile is
the best weapon against them, however smart they may be. From what I’ve seen in
the book, they haven’t really looked at humanity, don’t really understand
technology. The last few hundred years are a mere moment to these creatures.
They’re more primitive, with hunter mentalities. Not stupid, but they think
differently. And remember that they learn from experience, so never use the
same trick twice, once you believe they’ve figured things out.”
Kristen
beamed at us, and Chris seemed somewhat doubtful.
“It’s such a
huge gamble,” Chris whispered and hugged herself, “and we’re gambling with our
lives.”
Kris and I
enveloped Chris in a group hug, kissing her all over, and I motioned a frozen
Mickey to join us, bringing her into the hug and kissing her hard on the lips.
“Chris,” I
whispered and nibbled on her ear lobe, “every spell we cast is a gamble. It
will be quite a while before we can hide ourselves adequately. The best we can
do just isn’t enough.”
“How will
you cast several third circle spells, one after another?” Chris demanded.
“I’ll siphon
off some of your energies, with a second circle spell, the first and most minor
of the healing magics. I’ve thought about it, I assure you. We’ll refine the
plan, but we can – and must, do it. It’s our best chance to achieve a temporary
measure of security.”
Chris
relaxed in our grip, and kissed me and then Kris hard on the mouth, before
turning to Mickey and touching her lips to lips, more softly. None of missed
the significance of her failure to draw back. “I just can’t think of anything
better,” Chris said ruefully, “but I’ll certainly try.”
“Oh, Logan,
the escape supplies are all ready, in all the vehicles. We settled on the
Obrotts hostel as a rendezvous. We figured that if they do think to look,
they’d check for expensive hotels, not a cheap and relatively modest hostel.
It’s also far enough away to allow us to make sure we’re not followed, and
close enough to walk there in less than an hour. Well,” Kristen added
apologetically, “from here, anyway. From the new house, it’s pretty far for a
walk, but there isn’t anything very close that would escape notice.”
“Excellent
work, Kris,” I set my lips against hers, and bit down gently on her lower lip,
butting noses. “I just love efficiency. We’re going to make you scream so hard,
the roof will vibrate, until we put a gag in,” I whispered to her in an intense
tone, looking deep into her brown eyes. Kristen flushed visibly, and started to
squirm loose from our embrace, dreadfully embarrassed. Chris grinned at me
companionably, while Mickey looked inscrutable, a perfect poker face on a
perfect face. I looked into her blue eyes, and the opaque, neutral,
nonjudgmental coolness shifted, eyes twinkling with merriment as she allowed
her lips to bend ever so slightly.
We
separated, and I sighed and stretched, truly happy. I had hope for a safer
future, and I wasn’t alone.
“Now, I want
to eat, rest my weary bones in the water, and then come back for another
casting session. We all need to get better. I’m really not interested in
dealing with Patri…, that is to say, Trish. Could you take her off my hands,
please? Tell her about the real world and about magic, but don’t mention our
plans. See if she’ll talk to you.”
“She’s very
beautiful, I think,” Chris noted clinically.
“Typical
cheerleader, blonde, blue eyes, she’s got the build for it,” Kris sniffed.
“Probably the brains, too.”
“Come now,”
Mickey chided her, “this is a girl who had the courage to run away from home,
from a bad situation. And then she nearly got raped, and saw real magic. She
can’t help how she looks.”
Kris looked
down. “Yes, you’re right, I suppose I’m being petty. I still don’t like her,”
she lifted her chin stubbornly. “What do you think, Logan?”
“I don’t
trust her as far as she can throw me. Other than that, I prefer not to think of
her, which is why I consign her to your tender care,” I looked at the three of
them. “Tomorrow morning, Chris and I are going to play, and Kristen will visit
her parents. Mickey, can you deal with her? See what you can find out?”
“I’ll do my
best,” Mickey seemed less than certain, “but I don’t think I’m the best one for
the job. I’m abysmal at girl talk. I don’t know…”
“Just listen
to her,” Chris told her, “mention a few things about how bad you had it at
home, and she’ll try to outdo you with how awful things were for her. Listen,
and she’ll talk. Just do the ‘hmmm,’ in the proper places. She’ll want to
unburden, I’m sure.”
I was
already stuffing my face, looking at the kitchen counters, noting that Mickey
hadn’t forgotten – she’d taken my earlier comment concerning cooking to heart.
She’d cut and prepared ingredients for a real cookfest, and printed a few
recipes from the net. I felt my heart swell for a moment, and nearly choked on
a bit of asparagus. I couldn’t believe my luck, finding these girls. Chris and
Mickey were special, and so was Kristen, if to a lesser degree. I’d warmed to
her, but she was still more Christine’s friend than someone I’d have chosen for
myself.
“What do you
think, about telling my parents?” I asked and went back to eating, stopping
every now and then to cast a first circle spell.
The girls
debated the subject, between eating, casting spells and learning new ones, and
decided that they’d have to meet them before giving an informed opinion.
“Good
enough,” I wiped my mouth with a napkin, “I’ve taken the edge off, I’m going to
remove the beard and change.” Thinking of clothes, I noticed that the girls
were wearing very short shorts and rather brief tops, only Christine bothering
with a bra. Then again, the others could manage without, for Chris it would
probably have been painful. They presented a veritable feast for all the
senses, I laughed softly.
“What? Is
there something on…? Did I...?” They asked, words stumbling over each other.
“No, not at
all. I just looked at you, and the kitchen, and thought, ‘what a feast it is,
for all the senses,’ ” I looked at them hungrily.
“Whooo,”
Chris waved a hand, moving the air with the breeze spell, “but is it getting
hot in here?”
Trish chose
that moment to stir, and I left her to the girls. They could handle her. They
could handle most things.
I couldn’t
wait to have better control over my body. I found shaving to be such an
annoying ritual, and I wouldn’t mind not having to brush teeth and gargle,
either. Our available time and our use of it would change drastically after the
ritual. We truly couldn’t be counted as humans after that, not entirely. We’d
be wizards, in sooth.
Tossing
shoes aside, hanging the clothes and putting on shorts and slippers was such a
‘back home’ ritual that I relaxed further. I stared blankly at a mirror,
looking into myself, and found that killing those three creeps bothered me not
at all. And that was exactly what bothered me. I’d ingested the ‘sanctity of
each and every human life’ ideal, and I really believed that life possessed a
value all its own. Supposedly, only psychos killed easily and casually. The old
‘if I wonder whether I’m insane, I must be sane’ saw didn’t cut it here, I was
pretty sure. Psychology was one field of study in which I wasn’t terribly well
read or well versed, beyond the layman’s familiarity of any voracious reader.
Then again, I grew up a lot earlier than other people, because I understood
what I read, and I read a very great deal. These days, what with James Bond and
all the spy thrillers, everyone knew what being a spy was like. Likewise, with
all the television and murder stories, the work of a cop, detective and the
like was familiar. ‘Dead drop’ wasn’t a mystery, everyone knew the rules of
evidence and how to avoid leaving fingerprints behind. Could you become inured
to death and violence, to a life out of fantasy, because you read all those
books? Especially when I’d somehow managed to keep the deaths almost sanitary,
distant. Nothing of the smell of blood, shit and viscera had touched me,
everything was almost insulated, most of the foes not merely nonhuman but also
inhuman. Oh well, as long as I wasn’t chewing on the carpets, I’d just have to
manage.
I took the
time to clean the pistol, reloaded it, and locked it away. I thought about
replacing it, but decided that there was no need. Without bodies, there was no
crime, and I’d probably turned the bullets to windblown dust when I dealt with
the bodies.
By the time
I returned to the kitchen, not quite limping but certainly uncomfortable with
the after effects of the grace spell, the girls had managed to calm Trish
somewhat. She was still gazing apprehensively at the spells they cast between
bites, even as she herself was eating.
Trish’s
apprehension swelled visibly when I joined them at the table, her peaches and
cream complexion paling, but she settled down when nothing awful happened, and
we continued to eat and practice magic in silence.
After nearly
an hour, with Trish staring wide eyed at the sheer amount of food the four of
us demolished, I was feeling nearly replete. “Mickey, how about some cooking
practice? Best not use too much magic after dark.”
“Sure,” she
replied after swallowing the bite she’d taken and rose, as Trish inquired,
“Why?”
“Surely they
explained about the elementals? They patrol the city, mostly at night.”
“Oh, right,”
I could almost feel her roll her eyes at all the nonsense.
I proceeded
to ignore her, and worked as chef’s aide to Mickey, who moved about the kitchen
with smooth, practice expertise. What that girl could do with a cleaver in
hand! She was quietly complimentary concerning my skills, and very surprised
that a boy could cook at all. We exchanged shop talk as the others looked on,
still eating and practicing, Criss and Cross adding the inevitable occasional
snide comment.
I did take a
moment to snag a piece of paper, and began writing down a few sentences. When
most of the work was done, and things were heating and bubbling, I kissed
Mickey, and told everyone that I was off to the tub.
“Kris, try
to memorize these,” I gave her the paper. “At least a few of them, if you can.
These sentences, if you repeat even a few of them when and where they seem
appropriate, should convince your parents that you’re really studying. Especially
if you remember the translations from latin and who you’re quoting. Try to
sound more refined, and pick something elegant to wear. It’ll be like a hit
from a baseball bat, I assure you. Why, your parents might even think you’re
becoming lady-like,” I grinned at her.
Criss and
Cross looked at me intently, and then at each other, shaking their heads and
smiling.
“Neat,” Kris
grinned, “Absolutely devilish,” Chris rebutted, “and don’t forget you have to
memorize things,” she poked Kris in the ribs.
“If they ask
for details, tell them that’s the last thing you want to talk or think about,”
I advised, “your annoying, headache inducing studies, that is.”
“Ah, what
are you talking about?” Trish interjected.
“Explain it
to her, Kris, I’m going for some hot water and jets.”
I went
straight to the hot tub, not bothering with a bathing suit, and slowly relaxed
under the constant assault from the jets. It wasn’t a massage, but it was the
next best thing. I lay there, oblivious to the surroundings, eyes closed. I
jerked my eyes open when I heard and felt the water splash as someone joined
me.
“Chris!
Welcome,” I found it more than somewhat difficult to look at her face. She
hadn’t bothered with a suit, either, and her bits and pieces were very
distracting. Her large breasts floated in the water, and felt especially nice
when she snuggled up to me. We touched each other, exploring with no sense of
hurry, with something of a sense of gentle familiarity. For me, home had always
been a place, but I was beginning to understand that it could also mean people,
very special people. I didn’t want it to end, but couldn’t quite strangle a
yawn.
“Sorry about
that,” I didn’t bring a hand up to catch it, because I didn’t want to get my
face wet. “You know what the true, best way to a man’s heart is, Chris?”
“Going
through the ribs?” She shot me a sarcastic look.
“Ah, you
kill me,” I clutched my chest. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t
know. I mean, I don’t like being scared all the time. Every little noise makes
me jump. I’m just… not very brave.”
“Yes, you
are, Chris,” I caught her chin and looked directly into her green eyes.
“No I’m
not,” she answered weakly.
“You most
certainly are. I’m not going to forget our first night together. You only have
to get through two more weeks, twenty days at most. Part of the enhancement
ritual will allow you to know, to sense what is all around you, not just with
wizard sight. You won’t be caught by surprise. You’re not confident in
yourself, in your magic, because it hasn’t been tested in combat. But it will,
and it will be on our terms, Chris. We’re fighting on the guerilla side, we
have it much easier. By the time we’re a force to be reckoned with, and you’re
a true general, things will be very, very different. We won’t be children
anymore, not that we are now,” I twisted her hard nipples in my fingers.
“Whooo,
adult stuff,” she faked a swoon, “so dirty.”
“We can
always wash it off,” I splashed her.
“I’ve been
reading up on the military stuff. It’s so fewking complicated, I already feel
lost,” she complained.
“Read it,
and make notes of what seems relevant to us. Consult the book, heavily. The
circle of transmutation is much more complicated than we’ve really seen. We can
create materials that are truly magical by twisting what is, making for great
weapons. It’s not just spells or mystical martial arts, or rituals. There’s
magical technology too, however silly it may sound.”
“Oh, I
figured that out already,” she elbowed me. “Remember those fighting suits the
book said were hidden in Siberia somewhere. I looked them up, and even if I
didn’t really understand anything about them, the broader concepts are
adaptable. I wonder,” her words trailed off and got a far, spacey kind of look
in her eyes.
“You
wonder?” I poked her right back.
“Ooof.
Beast. I wonder if we can make spaceships, rise up from the atmosphere on
engines of magic, can we still, or rather, would you still be able to draw
power from the elements? From the sun, the movement of planets?” Her green eyes
were shining with delight.
I hated to
disappoint her, but “Come on, Chris. That’s light years away. I’m not saying we
shouldn’t explore further, but first we need to study what is known, before
going off on tangents. Remember that the gods are supposed to be imprisoned in
the sun, and we really don’t want to draw off energy that might be involved in
maintaining their prison. It’s not just a fantasy, and we might well get there,
but we need to worry about survival first. If you come up with anything
interesting, by all means write it down, for the future and my attention, but
don’t waste time on dreams now. We have so little of it to spare.” I never
figured on Chris being space mad.
“Yes, I
know,” she glared at me, as though she could read my thoughts, “but we need
something to look forward to, to hope for and dream of.”
“Space is
nothing, Chris. Remember all those alternate worlds the demons are coming from?
Why are they the only ones who can invade, tell me that? We might even be able
to forge commercial ties to alien places and strange universes, trading
technology and ideas. You’re thinking small, confining yourself to the
familiar. Don’t, think wide and wild.”
“Oh!” Her
eyes had that shine back, and her grip on me tightened. “That’s…” she looked
for words, and found nothing appropriate to the occasion.
“It’s
another thing we should avoid, for a long while yet. But there are things the
old archwizards didn’t think of. They were too arrogant, to comfortable,
ensconced in a familiar and formulaic struggle. Top dogs don’t want to upset
the cart. We need to think outside the box, and we have the advantage of a
great deal of human experience, innovation and ideas they lacked. Once we
manage to break the veil holding us from my predecessor’s libraries and the
Archimagical College, we’ll also have all the knowledge of old. With all of
that, and enough man and woman power to take advantage of it, I’m not sure of
what limits we might have. What really scares me, beyond the practical problems
we’ll face, is the thought of other archwizards, potentials or fully developed.
The book’s guarantees aside, the idea of meeting others who have my potential,
or have already plumbed that potential, makes me all cold.”
“Can you
look them over before ‘uplifting’ them?” Chris asked.
“I doubt the
book would let me,” I shrugged, trying telling her without words that ‘I have
no idea’ and ‘think of something, on your own’ with my eyes. Chris lowered her
lashes and stretched, writhing and twisting in ways that riveted my attention
on something other than the far future. I cursed under my breath, as once
again, mental arousal was not reciprocated down there. It simply wasn’t fair,
having all this female wealth and a debilitating condition besides. I never
thought I’d have cause to bless and curse wizardry, for the same thing, at the
same time.
“Well,” I
sighed, “lots to do before sleep, and I’m feeling a bit more alive. Not up to
another heavy magic session, but alive,” I tottered to my feet and dripped my
way to the towels. Chris, eyes closed, ummmhed in response, and chose to remain
in the hot tub. My preference, as well, but there was only so much torture a
guy could take.
I dried
quickly, stretched the towel out and got out of there. I stopped to do some
stretching, and actually heard some popping noises. On to the computer
cubbyhole, bypassing the kitchen, as more girls were something to be avoided,
here and now. With the book’s help, I prepared another list, and then began to
deal with the daily message traffic, and yesterday’s as well. This time, I also
remembered to order a credit card for Mickey, as well as a bike and the car
she’d expressed preference for. Then I started investigating the Easthaven
complex, typing in a blur, collating and saving information.
The owner of
record was a holding company, in turn owned by a couple of business people of
local repute, with significant shares by yet more companies. I built up that
tree, but that path of investigation was probably the wrong bark up. That was
all I managed, before another yawn attack stuck.
Enough was
enough, and I tottered off to my room. A little magic ritual, and I was out.
I woke up
even earlier than usual, and felt a bit hollow, somewhat depressed and not
entirely well, despite the invigorating sleep. I was alone in bed. I began with
stretches, and then went off to swim. An interminable length of time later,
muscles began protesting, and I floated on my back, considering the schedule
for today. First, primping and testing Kristen, and dropping her off at her
place. Then, Chris and I would be at Paladin, until noon at the earliest. I
didn’t need to go over my notes for my game, or add anything. I had enough
prepared for several years of playing. Afternoon would be shopping, and I might
as well get Trish something to wear beside what I found her in. Certainly, she
was too tall for anything we had to fit her.
Rushing out
of the pool, I dried quickly and went back to the computer room. I looked for
and found a large mall and several more upscale shops near the hospital where
Kristen’s ‘friends’ were convalescing, and dug into the hospital’s security.
They had a map of the hospital on their website and very lenient visiting
hours. I chose to prepare for two contingencies. The first, using their now
deceased friend’s identity, was the simplest, and I prepared a driver’s license
for ‘him’. That would work if they were not undergoing any treatment, and even
more easily, if they were asleep. In case there were problems, I found a news
picture of one of the hospital’s doctors, and printed a tag with the name of
that selfsame doctor – who was currently suspended, as he was facing a big
negligence suit. With a bit of work and a bit of magic, I’d look enough like
him to fool casual acquaintances. Illusions were a handy resource. With the aid
of digital camera, the tag was ready. I had excellent printing equipment, and
was quite certain that money would never be a problem again. A second circle
transmutation spell would turn any bit of paper into any bit of paper money.
Nobody would be able to tell original from my creation, unless they managed to
get their hands on two bills with the same serial number, and that was a chance
I was willing to take. As long as I had access to toilet paper, I’d never lack
for funds.
I thought
about continuing my investigation into Easthaven, or creating some money out of
paper, but did not particularly feel like working on either project. Instead, I
started studying up on another second circle spell, one classified both as
transmutation and energy manipulation, and designed to grant extra punch to
something you threw. The transmutation part was particularly tricky, as it
increased the density, hardness and mass of the object, and that required a lot
of knowledge of materials. You needed to see and instantly assess the changes
required, for the mental image part of the spell. The energy manipulation was
much simpler, a variation on the breeze cantrip, adding momentum behind the
projectile and directing it towards the target. With enough energy behind it,
you could turn a thrown rock into something much nastier than a rifle propelled
grenade.
With the
spell’s three components, mental, verbal and somatic, set like a comfortable
weight in my mind, I thought it was time to prepare breakfast, as the girls
should awaken soon enough. Outside the windowless computer cubby, the sky was
just starting to lighten, and as I padded over to the kitchen, I had a sudden
craving for sweets. All the food we’d eaten was quite good and filling, but
desserts had been fairly minimal, mostly grapes, fruit salad and such like. The
last occasion when I’d eaten real sweets had been when Criss and Cross were
talking to Kristen’s folk.
So instead
of just picking some leftovers to eat, and possibly preparing some salads and
more traditional breakfast foods, I baked a dozen or so cakes, using English
cake moulds. To cater to a variety of tastes, I made three each of lemon,
ginger, mocha, and chocolate cakes, using the simplest recipes I knew. While
they were in the oven (40 minutes, 1600C), I made a list of what was
needed to restock the food supplies, such as flour, sugar, yogurt, oil, garlic,
ginger, honey, chocolate, eggs etc.. Idly, I wondered if Trish could cook –
probably not, I decided, recalling Kris’ cheerleader comment. Then I brought a
roll of toilet paper to the kitchen table, ate a bit, cast a few spells, and
prepared everything for the cake toppings.
I heard them
walk in, remarking about the wonderful smells. I didn’t bother to turn around.
Was I feeling rejected? Hell, yes. But I’d gotten used to repressing emotions,
as witnessed the fact that my little sister was still presumably breathing
somewhere horsy and blessedly remote. Normally, no one would notice, but the
girls had only been exposed to the new, post wizardry me, so they probably
would. From experience, I knew I’d get over this childish snit. Distantly, I
wondered how long it would take. Escaping Chris’ discerning eyes would be quite
a challenge, certes.
They settled
around the table, drinking and eating what I’d set out earlier, and drooling
and slavering over the smells. Trish’s repetitive “Wow, he can really cook, and
bake!” were quite annoying. The habit of unnecessarily repeating, again and
again, something everyone had heard quite clearly, was a particular peeve of
mine. It always felt so insulting, like the conversee was telling you “Well,
you heard it once or twice, but it’s obvious that you don’t understand how
truly and utterly remarkable it is, in this day and age, for a bush to have
pretty pink flowers.” Well, either that, or it was a mark of advancing
senility.
Mickey
proved very helpful with the cakes, once they were done, silently helping me
with everything, which made me feel much better. Focusing on Mickey also helped
block out most of Trish’s chatter concerning how beautiful the house was, and
how much she admired all the knickknacks my parents had hanging, laying,
sitting or loitering all over the place. Little statues, larger statues,
crystals, glass sculptures, paintings, cutesy dolls and other aborigine and foreign
artwork. I like most of it myself, but it gave the house, large as it was,
something of a cluttered feeling. My room was decorated with Escher prints,
delightfully skewed paintings you could look at again and again, always seeing
something different, something new, and a few movie posters, with the book the
movie was based on just below, poster large and book-cover small. From Silence
of the Lambs to Empire of the Sun, with the remainder in the library, as there
was only so much wall space in a single room.
With the
cakes cooling, Mickey and I joined the others at the table, filling plates.
Chris had pushed the roll of toilet paper to a corner, obviously puzzled
concerning its presence.
“You know, a
girl could get used to this,” Trish stretched in her chair. “Your eyes are
glowing,” she addressed me for the first time that morning.
I wasn’t
surprised at that bit of news. I was very, very angry. Chris and Mickey
noticed, and even Kristen stayed silent.
Trish waited
for an answer to the question she’d never actually asked, then said, “Is
something wrong?”
“No,” I
smiled at her with lips alone, and turned the roll of white toilet paper into a
cloud of bills with a spell. “Now Kristen, if you’ll please join me. The
money’s for the afternoon shopping. All fake, but even I can’t tell the
difference.”
Kris looked
apprehensive as I took her hand and led her to a sitting room, but calmed down
when she learned that all I wanted was to see how well she’d learned her lines.
The answer to which was, not bad at all.
“Now, Kris,
if you’re not utterly certain that the tag fits, and you know it by heart, and
exactly what it means, don’t use it. Fumbling, displaying ignorance instead of
polish, is not what we’re trying to do here. Go for certain success, use full
sentences, don’t mangle the English language, be polite, graceful, the works.
That doesn’t mean you have to strangle your laughter, or be stilted. Be
yourself, the self you want to be, and will be. Knowledgeable, serene,
courteous, a citizen of the world who has seen it all before. Lady, not girl.
Hell, tell you a secret,” I leaned over to her. “Half the time, that’s the way
I think of you. And that’s without any effort. You’ll end up acting so well,
you’ll forget it’s a role.”
Kris looked
poleaxed for a moment, then thought for a moment, “But…”
“And a very
nice butt it is,” I nodded somberly, “now you need to pick the right clothes.
Chris is too used to thinking of you as soccer girl – have Mickey help you come
up with something elegant, practice walking in front of the big mirror in the
bathroom. Mickey can help you there, too. She can walk the walk, not just talk
the talk,” I said in a corny accent. Now where did I pick up that line?
“How
terribly hokey,” Kris wrinkled her nose and booed soundlessly.
“Anyway, do
you want us to drop you off at your parents and pick you up when we’re done
gaming, or will you drive yourself?”
“Ahem,” she
considered for a moment, “If I’m dressing elegant, could we use the car?”
“Right you
are,” I acknowledged, “we’ll drop you off. Don’t forget your phone. Never go
anywhere without it.”
“Let’s go!”
Kris rushed off to the kitchen, probably excited by the notion of dressing up
and playing runway model. I rushed up after her, and caught up as she gathered
breath before speaking to Mickey, leaning over her chair. I beat her to it.
“Mickey,
Kristen needs some help. Since we’re using the car and dropping her off, you
have less than an hour, so scoot.”
Mickey
blinked, not really understanding, but allowed Kris to grab her hand and lead
her away at a hustle.
“And have
you decided what you’re going to do?” I asked Trish.
“Ah, no, not
really. I tried calling my grandmother, she’s the only one I have, really,” she
hunched, looking vulnerable and lost, “but there’s no answer. I’m worried about
her, she’s old, and I don’t know who to call.”
“Ask Mickey
to help,” Chris suggested, “According to Logan, she’s a computer wiz, not just
an ordinary wizard like me and Kris, so she’ll probably manage to find someone
to call. Local police, hospital, whatever.”
“I suppose,”
Trish answered, looking dispirited.
“If you’re
done with breakfast, you can go help Mickey with outfitting Kris,” I suggested,
guessing that playing with clothes would cheer up a girl, alien creatures that
they were.
It seemed
that she was done and more than satisfied with breakfast, “If I ate like this
half the time, I’d be a blimp in a week. Makes me wish I could do magic, just
for that. Sure, I’ll help,” Trish shrugged and rose.
“No you
don’t,” Chris demurred, after swallowing what she had in her mouth. “I
sometimes feel mentally bloated, like all I’m doing is feeding this insatiable
monster inside. I almost feel pregnant. It’s gruesome, what a wizard has to put
up with in the food department. I can’t wait for more efficient digestion. This
utterly sucks rotten eggs, even if the food is good. The first couple of times,
it was sinful fun, but it gets to be horrid, like an IV tube leading directly
to your stomach, and you need to spend at least six hours a day sitting and eating.”
“Okay, okay!
Forget I said anything!” Trish raised her hands in surrender and fled the
kitchen.
“Well, if
that’s what you feel like, let’s wrap this little session up,” I told Chris.
“You don’t need that much time to dress up, do you?”
“Nope, and
I’m not going swimming, either, not after eating.”
“Perish the
thought. How about some individual instruction, martial arts wise? We need to
schedule time for physical activities. Hours of sitting and eating aren’t too
healthy.”
“Sounds
good,” Chris licked her lips suggestively. “Can’t wait for tomorrow’s ‘physical
activities’,” she giggled.
We spent a
mere five minutes stretching, and I led her through some basic strikes and
blocks, having her attack me and showing her how they were used – incidentally
dumping her ass on the mat a few times – and then attacking her, more slowly.
“Whoo,
time!” Chris gasped, “I’m gonna catch a shower and dress. Later!”
She ran off
to shower, and I went to order the groceries, using the list I’d compiled,
before putting on some clothes and going to fetch Kris.
“Very nice,”
I nodded approvingly as I looked at a bright eyed, smiling Kris. She was
walking, under the critical guidance of Trish and Mickey, apparently getting
used to heels, though they didn’t look particularly high. Her light brown skin
looked almost luminous, under a shirt and wide pantaloons of warm amber and
thin, breezy fabric, her eyebrows were more sharply defined, and I’d have
thought she’d used makeup if I hadn’t recognized the sharpened colouring around
her eyes as Mickey’s work. Spells as makeup, I shook my head in amusement. It
worked well, and her eyes looked much larger, somehow, almost reminding me of
those cute anime girls, and her brown hair seemed to have more life and
brightness, looked fuller. If she was wearing anything beneath the wispy
clothes, which somehow managed to cover everything, it wasn’t noticeable. Her
feminine attributes, on the other hand, were quite distinct beneath the cloth.
She had a few bits of golden jewelry on, a necklace, a bracelet and a pair of
diamond earrings. Kristen looked really good, and more importantly, happy. Even
Trish seemed content, her worries forgotten for the moment.
“Ready?” I
asked.
“Just the
purse, we’ve loaded it,” Trish handed her a tiny purse, dark brown with gold
scrollwork. “There, done.”
Loading a
purse sounded a bit strange to my ears, but I chose not to comment. Kristen
posed, looking at me for approval, and I nodded and clapped. “I wonder if your
parents will even recognize you,” I commented.
We collected
Chris, who’d put on a skirt and top of dark green and looked freshly scrubbed
and vibrant, and I picked up my gaming laptop and paraphernalia.
We kissed
Mickey goodbye – yes, all three of us, and not lightly, either, which had Trish
looking at us cross-eyed – and trooped over to the car. Traffic was light on a
Saturday morning, so taking Kristen home went particularly quickly and
smoothly, and we stopped for some more goodbye kissing.
Kristen
didn’t seem to lack confidence, but neither did she want to part from us, or so
her groping and fervent lips signaled. I had to pry her off, and gave her
behind a light spank.
“Come on,
Kris, it’s just a few hours. We’ll call ahead. Try not to kill anyone, and
don’t cast a spell if there’s any way to avoid doing so. Remember that you’re
afraid to stay home, and don’t make your parents suspicious about me by talking
too much about how wonderful I am,” I said blandly.
“Oh, you…,”
Kris stuttered, raised a threatening fist, and whirled away, running off.
Christine, on the other hand, was sufficiently amused to titter at her friend’s
expression and reaction.
With little
traffic, I didn’t need too much concentration to drive, so I talked with Chris
about tactics, poking holes in her ideas.
“Try to concentrate
on small unit tactics, see what the book suggests for an optimal grouping, be
it three or half a score. It’ll be a while before we start fielding armies. See
what implements we’ll be able to make, try reading standard mundane tactical
manuals. Check for mundane supplies we can enhance, everything from claymores
and grenades to…,”
“Claymore?
Isn’t that a type of two-handed sword?” Chris quirked a brow in question.
“Yes, but
it’s also a type of anti-personnel mine. Download some arms manufacturers’ prospectuses,
Janes, anything you can think of. After you’re enhanced, you’ll be able to make
much better use of data, so just try to locate and acquire as much of it as you
can. Don’t try too hard to digest it all, just acquire familiarity with the
terminology. If you can write up an introductory booklet of basic terms, that
would be a big help. I mean,” I snorted, “Kris didn’t even know what ‘sentry’
means. Communication is vital, and we won’t always have time to stop and
explain things.”
My words
seemed to cheer Chris up, as she perked up and starting throwing out words and
acronyms she hadn’t really understood, and I translated, to her edification and
delight.
A few
minutes later, and I was parking by the mall, and we walked up to Paladin,
holding hands.
14
Not
unexpectedly, we were early. I’d budgeted a bit too much time for traffic, and
there hadn’t been that much of it. The beep of the motion detector drew Bill’s
eyes to us, but he was busy with a couple of skinny boys who were purchasing
some sort of gaming cards. He waved at us, pointed at our room, and took a
moment to stare at Chris.
“You
shouldn’t have removed quite so many freckles, sweet,” I whispered to her, not
entirely jokingly.
“Ooops,” she
didn’t sound too repentant. “What do we tell them?”
“Uhmmm… you
found an expensive treatment on the web, checked it out, and ‘convinced’ me to
finance it. If they’re laughing about me being pussy whipped, they won’t
consider it too deeply. For all I know, such a treatment might actually exist.
As a convenient side effect, your complexion is perfect. No, say ‘improving’.”
She advanced
on me, pressing herself against me, an unfamiliar twinkle in her eyes, and
whispered breathily in my ear, “And are you?”
With Chris
nuzzling into my neck, teeth nipping, soft breasts and erect nipples crushing
against my arm, I had trouble replying for a moment.
“This might
not be the best time and place to try out your feminine wiles,” I managed to
whisper back, as a cough sounded out from behind. I repressed the instinctual
swivel, and Christine, to my surprise, did not disengage. She merely took her
mouth away from my skin and looked sideways, so she could see, standing to my
side as I turned.
Jon and
Veronica had entered the room, and their attempts to stifle their smiles were
less than successful. Veronica started complimenting Chris on her clothes, and
they started the ‘girl talk’ ritual, not so subtly excluding anything male. I
nudged Jon over to a corner, and mentioned the need to talk business.
I drew out
the list I’d prepared, and asked him if he could get his hands on gemstones of
the exact specifications noted therein. He looked at it, and with my nodded
permission made notations on the side of the paper.
“Yes, I can
probably manage it all. It’ll be very expensive,” he warned me after a couple
of minutes, deliberately not looking at the laughter emanating from the women.
“What I can’t see is why you’d need just the gems,” he seemed puzzled.
“Now that
would be telling tales,” I smiled, drew out a billfold and handed it to him. “That should serve
as an advance. How soon can I have them? Send a courier to my place with the
stones, and I’ll pay you the balance on the following Saturday. If that’s all
right with you?”
“Yes, yes,
that’s fine,” he smiled graciously, already thinking about dodging the tax.
Cash opens many doors. “I’m not sure about the turnaround for the order, for
something like this. Nobody’s ever ordered pure gems. Maximum is around fifteen
days, if they have them in stock, I can probably send them over on Wednesday.
Send them where?”
I wrote my
address down on the paper.
Jon started
counting the bills, and lost his place when Matt and Trina entered the room,
surreptitiously stuffing the billfold in a pocket as he greeted them. “How much
is it?” he asked me sotto voce.
“Twenty K.
Let’s sit down, I need to start setting up,” I nodded at my laptop.
People were
starting to trickle in, and shortly everyone was present. Surreptitiously, I
activated Wizard Sight, and we began.
It was
different. I felt a great deal more confident and much calmer. Being able to
see their auras, while not true telepathy or empathy, allowed me some hint of
whether they were enjoying the play, bored, thoughtful or merely pretending.
The flow of words, counters and dice was somehow smoother, and everyone noticed
that when Chris and I spoke, there was a sort of synchronicity. We didn’t
stumble over each other’s words, stopping and speaking in a subtle choreography
that drew admiring glances. I hadn’t noticed, before, how much truly in tune we
were. Matt looked flabbergasted, still shaking his head ten minutes after the
inadvertent display.
Then it was
Matt’s turn to run our Exalted game, and he was slightly distracted, which
allowed us to double and triple-team him, getting a bit more out of the session
than he’d probably planned. The fill ins for extras and enemies, courtesy of
Trina’s group, were pressed rather hard, but managed to acquit themselves in an
admirable fashion.
The
traditional after-game lunch was somewhat subdued, even more so after Chris and
I ordered triple our usual intake.
“He’s
working you that hard?” David laughed awkwardly at Chris. I wondered how it was
that no one had thought to mention the change in Christine’s appearance.
“Oh, is he
ever,” Chris groaned in an obvious bid for sympathy. “The maniac is trying to
cram ten years’ of instruction into a month. He decided we needed to learn how
to kick ass, so…”
“We?” Kevin
asked, pointedly.
“Oh, me and
Kristen, my best friend. She was sort of molested, and they probably know where
she lives, so I convinced him to let her move in. His place is just enormous!
And so nice,” Chris gushed ever so enthusiastically, and started describing my
parents’ place, pausing every now and then to spear a bit out of her salad.
“Anyway,
about the need to kick ass?” Ronald interrupted. He didn’t seem too entranced
with hearing about yet another dream home.
“Oh, yes, he
brought in a girl from his martial arts class, and they’re drilling us
incessantly. No mercy. I hurt all over, what with the sheer brutality. I don’t
want to think about how much weight I’ve lost.”
The main
course was on its way to our table, and everyone started to dig into the sinful
masses of dead cow flesh, after a brief look of disbelief thrown at the last
portion of Chris’ statement. A teenaged girl, complaining about losing weight?
“Why so
brutal?” Veronica asked me.
“Well, I
think it’s a military saying, but the best way to go about it is to train like
it’s real, and treat the real thing like it’s practice. Training is supposed to
be as much worse than the real thing as we can make it without actual injuries,
so that when it comes to actual fighting, it’ll be a breeze.”
“Sounds
logical,” she nodded, “but not very nice.”
“Neither is
‘molestation’,” I could feel my lips curl as I looked her in the eye, “and if
more girls were trained, there might not be room for any.”
That put a
damper on conversation for a while.
“You know,”
Kevin turned to look at me, “you were much better today, than usual. Did you
put some extra time into the preparations?”
That set
Chris to giggling, and she answered the question for me, “No, he didn’t. We
didn’t give him any time to prepare, and he’s teaching Mickey, the girl from
martial arts I told you about, how to run his business, on top of his classes.
He spent the morning cooking, actually baking some cakes. Real good ones, too!
I just think he’s more relaxed, so it went through more smoothly. He already
remembers everything, since he wrote it all originally, and he’s got enough
stuff prepared for the next fifteen years, so,” she shrugged, “there wasn’t any
actual need to prepare anything.”
The
conversation went in another direction, politics this time, and since I’d
barely kept up with events, there was time to eat. Christine likewise kept busy
with the excellent food. It wasn’t long before we were replete, leaning back in
our seats.
“So, does he
cook better than this?” Veronica inquired of Chris.
“Oh, lots
better,” Chris replied instantly. “This is good, but plain. There’s nothing
special about it, other than the quality of the meat. Logan cooks more exotic,
Indian, Chinese, Thai, Mexican, some really hot stuff, some pretty weird
looking stuff, but so, so good. Mickey’s also pretty hot in the kitchen, you
should have seen how they worked together yesterday. I’d feel like unskilled
labor, except I didn’t have to do any work,” she sounded smug about it.
“I’m sure I
could find some grunt labor just for you,” I responded. “Weeding the garden,
cleaning the pool,” I ducked the toothpick she tossed my way, “spit shining the
floor and the toilet with a toothbrush,” I added to general laughter.
To everyone’s surprise, Christine was the one to sign
the check this time, casually tossing her spanking brand new credit card onto
the tray, looking cool as can be.
“I don’t
remember,” Matt said slowly, “you having a credit card. Or am I missing
something, dear daughter?”
“Nope,
you’re still as sharp as a spoon,” Chris beamed at him. “Logan got me a card,
for incidentals. And a bike like his, so I could go looking for incidentals. He
doesn’t seem to like shopping,” she added just the right note of amazement to
her voice, cracking everyone up. Even I had to laugh at that.
“So he’s
wining and dining you properly?” Veronica nodded in comradely fashion.
“Actually,
no wining. The only alcohol I’ve seen is for cooking. When I asked what’s a
girl to do for a drink, he offered me some awful smelling cleaning supplies.”
“Poison is
poison,” I said. “In chemistry for 5th grade, we drew up the
molecule for alcohol. Look it up. Alcohol poisoning is simply a kinder name for
a drug overdose. In fact, the term alcohol poisoning is redundant because the
drug, ethyl alcohol or ethanol, is a toxic substance in and of itself. A more
accurate name is alcohol overdose.”
“Now, that
seems a bit extreme,” David frowned at me.
“No, it’s
merely accurate. The liver can detoxify most of it, depending on quantities,
but it’s still a poison and a drug. But then again, oxygen is also poisonous,
in a way,” I smiled at him, “so don’t worry about imbibing, as long as you
moderate the intake. Everyone dies eventually, so you might as well enjoy what
time you have. I simply abhor the taste, so I don’t keep any. I think my
parents have a few bottles of champagne or something of the sort, but raiding
their stores is out of the question.”
“And
everyone’s always moaning about how awful teenagers are today,” David shook his
head, and the older folk exchanged looks, as did Chris and I. Very different
looks.
“Logan is
not a typical teenager,” Matt remarked, “and I’m pleased to say that neither is
Chris.”
“Of course,
Logan can be just awful. Awfully annoying,” Chris added helpfully.
“Right. I’ll
just do the polite thing, and let y’all talk about me behind my back,” I stood
and walked away for a visit to the bathroom, still astonished that I’d more or
less managed the southern accent on the y’all. At least, it hadn’t sounded
ridiculous to my ear. All the practice with twisting my vocal chords around
unpronounceable incantations was paying unexpected dividends.
I took my
time in the bathroom, and as anticipated, only Matt and Chris were waiting for
me, outside the restaurant. Chris was chattering away about the upcoming
shopping trip and the stores she was going to raid. A wonderful deflecting
tactic. Joining them, I just nodded and let my eyes glaze as Chris discussed
fabrics and sizes, and the best colours for a redhead or what would fit
Kristen’s skin tone.
“So, ahem,”
Matt broke in. “Are you taking proper precautions?” he blurted out.
My mouth
just hung open, but Chris came to the rescue. “Daddy, we haven’t had sex. Not
yet,” she managed a faint smile.
“And you
won’t be a grandfather until and unless Chris wishes it so,” I managed to add.
Matt managed
to collect himself. “What are your plans?”
“Well, I’m
committed to another year of highschool, and I’ll make sure I’m not alone
there. Chris is much too smart to waste more than another year in that
institution. We’ll finish our degrees, using remote study, rather quickly.
After that?”
“In regard
to each other?” Matt clarified.
Oh. A sticky
subject. I’d sort of planned on never getting married, but… “What do you think
of marriage, Chris?”
“Marriage?”
she bit her lower lip, eyes downcast for a moment. Raising her head, she looked
resolute. “I don’t,” she shrugged.
“I quite
agree. Religious or civil ceremonies just don’t mean anything to me. We don’t
need anyone or anything chaining us together. We are together, and that’s not
going to change.”
Christine’s
reaction and the complete lack of mention of her mother were glaring warnings
that something was not right there. I’d noticed the matter before, but not
really paid attention. Perhaps Kristen would have something to contribute on
the subject, before bearding Chris.
Matt opened
his mouth, but Chris preempted him, “And now it’s your turn to tell us how
we’re just 15, and we can’t possibly understand what we’re saying, we’re too
young to commit… right?”
Doing a
remarkable fish impersonation, Matt closed his mouth, opened it again, and
breathed out audibly. “Ahem… yes. You are, you know.”
“Possibly,”
I admitted without, for once, insisting on accuracy and mentioning my actual
age of 16, “but we feel like ‘home’ when we’re together. And you never know
what you’re really getting when you commit, right?” I shot him a piercing look.
He clutched
his hair, turned his face away, and sighed deeply. “I can’t believe I’m having
this conversation,” he shook his head.
“That makes
two of us,” I admitted, “but do you really think Chris is going to regret
anything about this? That’s the question you need to answer.”
Chris opened
her mouth to speak, but I motioned her to silence, and we let him think,
standing there in stillness.
Finally, he
spoke.
“No, I don’t
think I’m going to stand in your way. Whatever your chronological age, you’re
more adult than most adults, Logan. And I want Chris to be happy, and I’ve
never seen her happier. Of course,” he smiled at us, “I’m sure your parents
might have something to say on the subject. And really, Chris, why so much
makeup?”
She rolled
her eyes at the non sequitur, and invited him to touch her face to see if there
was any makeup there, whatsoever.
“See?” she
crowed at his expression, “It’s all painted on, and I lost quite a few of those
awful freckles. It’s a new treatment I found on the net, they…”
Chris fed
him the line I’d given her, and he seemed to swallow it whole. Fortunately,
Matt wasn’t quite metrosexual, and his interest in skin smoothing techniques
and face paint was subzero.
The fact
that he was so willing to have his fifteen year old daughter move in with me
for the foreseeable future raised the stink factor of her home situation to a
new level. I hadn’t really considered the matter, last week, not thinking to
look a gift horse in the mouth – but the magical influence theory held no water
here, and it was more than just unusual. I was no longer sure that sticking my
nose into the matter was wise – having Chris with me was all I really cared
about. Investigating might stir up wasps. If her mother wanted to deal drugs,
or whatever, it was no longer any of our business. Later, when we had real
power, I’d nudge Chris into ‘rescuing’ her father – if I learned that things
were as I presently assumed them to be, and he deserved rescuing. I’d learned
enough by now, the hard way, to be wary of acting on assumptions and
impressions. Taking an extra effort to learn for certain was important.
“Anyway,
daddy, we really have to scoot and rescue Kristen. She’s with her parents, and
the poor thing must be a nervous wreck by now.”
“Right,” he
answered, bemused, “go ahead and ‘scoot’.”
We took him
at his word and hurried over to the car, Chris digging out her phone and
calling Kristen. She spoke with her all through the ride, chattering away. I
didn’t truly listen in, but I got the sense that she was quite relieved at
gaining what was tantamount to open permission for an indefinite stay. Which
presented yet another problem – how were we going to get the same for Kristen?
I couldn’t think of anything short of blackmail or threats of physical
violence, and I wasn’t sure even that would work. Simple words wouldn’t be
enough, and I didn’t think there was any chance of ‘buying’ her away. Parents
tend to cling – at least, the good ones do – and I’d seen nothing to make me
think there was anything wrong with Kristen’s pair. Getting them used to the
idea of Kristen staying with us, in the interim, was a good first step, but it
wasn’t enough. Changing her school to mine – ours, with Chris – might help. With
bureaucratic inertia and a bit of pressure, they’d never manage to change
schools back, however loud they screamed. Perhaps my parents, assuming they
were brought up to speed, could help?
Certainly,
we’d have to discuss the matter, but there were too many things to deal with.
It would simply have to wait. Actually, perhaps signs of stalking by the soon
to be non-existent rapists would work. If they had to send her away for her own
safety… it should work.
We picked
Kristen up – she was waiting for us on the street, perhaps betraying her ‘role’
of supposedly scared. She was hyped, as her greeting kisses showed – plenty of
passion.
“The folks
didn’t even recognize me, at first!” she just about shouted into my ear. “It
was so great! My brother, Curt, is visiting from college, and he actually
whistled when he saw me!” she preened.
I held her
close, and tilted her chin, making a show of examining her face. “Well…,” I
delayed the verdict, “you do look wonderful. And Kris, you’ll only get better.
Best get used to whistles and lewd proposals, as you’ll be getting a lot of
both.”
Appearances
are such a big deal, that a lecture concerning how they no longer mattered to
us was out of place, and insulting besides. It would take her decades, if not
centuries, to learn that how she looked didn’t matter when she could assume any
appearance she fancied. Social conditioning couldn’t be shed so easily. I felt
that the outside nowadays mattered more than the contents, in almost every
field. Nor was I immune to the disease – ugly and fat was repulsive, beauty and
style attractive. Looking beyond the surface was very difficult, requiring both
discipline and motivation or, possibly, a good nature.
Kris opened
her mouth to demur, but stopped before saying anything. “Oh, right. You know,
every girl wants to be beautiful, to be noticed. But it’s sort of scary, coming
true like that.”
“Really,
Kris, you’re being ridiculous,” Christine laughed softly. “Scary is elementals
trying to rip you apart. Don’t forget that you don’t have to be more beautiful
than you’re comfortable with – we’ll be regular shape changers in a few short
months.”
“Easily,” I
nodded, “you’ll see. It’s going to come to us much more quickly. Our progress
won’t be geometric, I assure you, if not quite logarithmic. Today, you’re
breaking the first circle of life. After the shopping – and this time I’m
budgeting five hours for that, so you should be able to get most anything you
need – I’ll cast two second circle spells for the first time. One is the basic
healing spell, which will allow me to draw on all your energies. The second is
the spell that affects the intellect. It doesn’t make one smarter, per se, just
faster. Much, much faster, and aids in recollection. I’ll maintain it for the
entire evening, and we’ll start learning really, really fast. Tomorrow, we’ll
take a short vacation from study, rest and let our bodies heal. We’ve been
putting some serious stress on the system, and Chris, you really have lost some
weight, and not to exercise. We can’t allow ourselves to fall apart. Once we’re
a bit more settled, after we deal with my parents on Monday, we’ll start a
routine of study, exercise, martial arts and magical work.”
“And sex. We
need lots of sex,” Chris added, and Kristen choked out a gasp.
“Right, I’ll
be sure to schedule that in,” I responded dryly.
“Well, you
do need to practice that spell,” Chris replied smoothly.
“Spell? What
does that have to do with anything?” Kristen asked, bewildered. “I thought we
were waiting for the ritual?”
“Oral sex is
still sex, Kris,” Chris grinned, “and Logan needs looooots of blowjobs. He
needs to master spell casting when fucking,” she was being deliberately crude,
I could see by cast of her face. “You see, when he’s got it buried deep and
begins to…,” I swerved sharply, as a crazy driver tried to cut me off.
“Christ,
Chris, shut the fuck up!” Kristen wailed. “He obviously can’t concentrate on
driving when you’re talking sexy. All the blood goes to the other head, or
something. Just don’t!”
“Ohhh, is
wittle Kwisten embawassed?” Chris mocked her.
“Hey, no cat
fighting in the car!” I said sharply, as I was sure that Kristen’s reaction
would be physical. “That’s likely to result in an accident, for certain.” I
suddenly recalled all the times I’d fought with my sister, mostly good
naturedly, before her bitch from beyond the pole phase, in the back seat of the
car. Feeling like the parent was… distinctly odd, especially considering the
circumstances.
I left the
girls bickering in the garage, and went to my room to store the laptop and
change. Looking for the others, I automatically headed for the kitchen. It had
become something of a gathering place, however much more comfortable the living
room was. Our priorities were different. Armies marched on their stomachs, and
wizards thought of theirs first thing. At least we were likely to get our
logistics right.
Criss and
Cross were there, having chosen not to change, but Mickey and Trish were
absent.
“Any idea
where…?” I walked over to them, but before I could frame the question, Chris
pushed me into a chair. I was so surprised that she managed it easily.
Without
uttering a word, she dropped a towel on the floor, knelt, and opened my pants.
Her warm hands cradled my balls and cock, soft as it was, and pulled them out
into the air. Kristen whistled sharply, as Chris bent down and took it all in
her moist mouth, red curls covering my crotch from view. Soft, so soft, her
hair as my hands closed on it convulsively, her mouth as it sought to swallow.
I groaned, fighting the urge to hold her head fast, the pleasure mounting as I
grew erect with startling speed, wet squelching sounds coming from below as
Chris withdrew when I grew too large for her mouth to contain.
I wasn’t
sure if she’d gotten better, but she was plenty good enough to have me
squirming in the chair, lush lips going up and down about the circumference of
my cock, sucking, licking, swallowing.
“Oral sex,”
I gasped at Kristen, standing there watching the show, her eyes narrowed,
“definitely in the schedule.”
“Ahhh!”
fingers scrapped below my balls as her mouth held the very tip inside, tongue
reaching beneath. One of her hands went between her legs, and I decided to
exercise some willpower. It was the most difficult thing I’d done in my life,
bar none, but I sharpened my wizard sight on what her fingers were doing to
herself, distancing the liquid pleasure that threatened to erupt any second by
biting hard on my lower lip, and cast a first circle telekinesis spell,
manipulating her pleasure button remotely.
The hot
breath she released as it touched her nearly brought me over the edge, but she
stopped her work for long enough that I managed to clench and hold in.
“Stamina,” I croaked, and the pleasure mounted, Chris going wild on me,
sucking, tonguing and working her fingers with abandon as she caught up with my
arousal. I caught Kristen fingering herself and told her, “Lick her!”
Just like
that, she caught and lowered Chris’ trousers and panties in a single forceful
tug, and dove in from behind. The pressure and intensity increased, and I moved
my concentration from Chris to Kristen’s sex, invisible fingers manipulating
her with remote expertise, the three of us locked in a triangle of mounting
lust.
Then I made
the mistake of looking at what Kris was doing, seeing the blissful expression
on her face, eyes closed, above Christine’s surging buttocks, mouth fastened
below, moaning and tonguing. It was such an erotic vision that I lost control,
seeing golden stars on black as I erupted and the spell I maintained shattered.
I felt empty when I managed to open my eyes and raise my head from the chair’s
headrest, gasping for air, looking straight into Mickey’s blue eyes.
Trish,
standing next to her, seemed frozen in shock, mouth stuck half-open. Chris was
buttoning my pants, and since things didn’t feel moist, she must have used a
cleanup spell. Kristen was adjusting her best friend’s tiny panties in place,
licking her shining lips, and raised Chris’ trousers up with obvious
reluctance.
I stretched
a hand out and helped Chris up onto my lap, and Kris joined her on, leaning
against my chest. “Gods, Mickey, you wouldn’t believe how draining it is to
cast spells during sex. Be a dear and fetch me some… make that a lot… of cake,”
I asked after I managed to regulate my breath, curious to see how Trish would
take it.
Her blond
head moved this way and that, turning from the tangle of the three of us, to
Mickey’s movements in the kitchen. When Mickey came up behind me and started to
feed me bite-sized pieces of chocolate cake, and I licked her fingers clean,
Trish’s eyes nearly bugged out, and she shook her head violently.
“What is
this?” she nearly shrieked. “You’re all… together?”
“You could
say that,” Mickey replied, as my mouth was full. “You see,” Mickey’s voice was
pitched in an almost obsequious ‘reasonable’ tone, almost making me choke up on
laughter and cake, “it’s wizardry. Wizards’ sex drives are… shall we say,
heightened? Together with all other faculties, once we get a handle on real
magic. I mean, did you ever wonder about Superman, or all those other costumed
cutesies? Could they go all night and day, for a week? Wizards can. It’s like,”
she paused, looking up as though searching for words, “well,” she feigned
embarrassment, before looking Trish straight in the eye, “we’re all nymphos. Or
in males, it’s satyriasis,” she corrected herself.
Criss and
Cross were trembling on me, just barely holding on. “Kiss,” I whispered, and
they did. Focusing on the sight of them, lip to lip, made laughter a very
distant concern, and I couldn’t help but join in. The three-way kiss was a very
interesting experience.
“Yum,
chocolate,” Chris commented once she withdrew her tongue from my mouth and we
stopped to regain our breath.
I snuck a
look at Trish, and saw her staring at us, cheeks flushed.
“That’s why
you’re completely safe from molestation here,” I embellished, “we wizards
generally stick to our own kind. I mean, you probably can’t last for sixteen
straight hours of sex, right? You’d need to stop and eat, drink, rest. And there’s
something extra about sorceresses,” I licked my lips lasciviously, turning
burning eyes from Mickey to Criss and Cross.
“You’re
overdoing it,” Mickey leaned closer to my ear and whispered, before sticking
her tongue in.
I jerked
back and clapped my hands. “Girls, please! Sex is on the schedule for tomorrow.
We’re going to take Kristen and turn her into liquid mush,” I put a hand on one
of her breasts, squeezing lightly, “but today it’s shopping and advanced
spells. Five hours of shopping at Westcross mall, then I’ll use the second
circle intellect spell to boost us all up, and you’ll break the first circle of
life. So get dressed if you’re not already, and we’ll go. Yes, Trish, that
includes you,” I added at her hesitant expression, “you’re a guest, and you
need some new duds. Or whatever.”
“I’m ready,”
Criss and Cross said together, and Mickey nodded, “I’m all set.”
“Trish?” I
looked at her.
“Ah,” she
stuttered, “I, ah, just let me get ready. It won’t be a moment,” she turned and
fled.
“She can be
useful,” Mickey said once she was out of sight, “really. Setting her up and
tossing her out would be wasteful.”
I raised a
brow in silent query, mouth full of cake.
“She’s not
stupid, even if she is blond,” Kristen interrupted her with a giggle, and Chris
wore a smirk.
“Not funny,”
Mickey admonished them. “Quite seriously, we have someone here who’s aware of
magic, but hasn’t completely freaked out, and she’s got nowhere to go. I forgot
to mention that her grandmother died. I mean, she’s really in trouble, and we
can use a secretary. And before you say she can’t be trusted,” Mickey raised an
hand at me, a full stop sign, “we can take care of that with magic, later, once
we really have things to hide. It’s not as if she can contact elementals or
demons,” she looked at me expectantly.
“What do you
think?” I asked Criss and Cross.
Chris
frowned and bit her lip, too cute for words, and said, “Concur.” Kris nodded a
moment later, “Just throwing her out like that would be too cruel.”
“Done,
then.”
For a few
silent minutes we all nibbled on cakes and drank our fill, waiting on Trish.
She wasn’t gone long, and returned looking freshly scrubbed, in makeup, jeans
and red t-shirt. I didn’t miss the nod Mickey gave her, and the way her bearing
straightened thereafter. I tossed Mickey the car license, “I’ll take a bike.
Might be some mods for it,” I lied with a straight face.
In gloves
and leather jacket, with the items I’d prepared in the pockets, I followed the
car to the mall, a very big mall, I soon found out, and quite crowded as well.
Serving as escort from car to the nearest clothing store didn’t steal too much
time away, seeing as the girls were moving with enough speed and intent to snap
reins atwain.
A little
trip to the bathroom, a few seconds spent practicing the malicious,
psychopathic killer, villain laugh and the illusion of Richard’s face
superimposed on mine in front of a mirror, and I was burning rubber on the way
to the hospital. Dad’s Fireblade was now painted matte black, license numbers suitably
doctored.
I parked at
the entrance, chained the helmet to the bike’s rear wheel, and activated the
illusion. A look at the bike’s mirror (objects are closer than they appear)
showed that I bore a passing semblance to the deceased. Passing the shrubbery,
resisting the urge to Ni, I went straight past the reception area, where a
bored looking young woman was gazing raptly at a computer, probably playing
hearts or solitaire, and climbed up to the third floor. The security was purely
laughable – the guards had completely ignored me. Granted, I wasn’t carrying so
much as a purse, and didn’t look suspicious, but still…
Offended
professionalism aside, finding their rooms was child’s play. I nodded
courteously at passing nurses, and received no more than a few sidelong
glances. Walking steadily, I pondered the how, for repeated instances of
spontaneous cerebral hemorrhage would likely engender overmuch suspicion. The
healing spell! It was, first and foremost, a draining spell, taking vitality
from others. I stopped and sat down on a chair next to a water fountain, and
opened the book that appeared on my lap.
The draining touch enables a wizard not merely to heal but to cast spells beyond his own capacity for power. The spell carries significant dangers for the person drained. Student wizards and wizards used stables of mortals as self-regenerating batteries. Few such mortals survived more than a few weeks of such use.
Ergo, it
would work. There were more advanced variations on the spell that allowed a
wizard to drain vitality at a distance, or even from an entire crowd. The
information was unsettling, but enormously useful. Here were the means to cast
many spells of power without delaying to recover, providing there were people
to drain. If ordinary people suddenly became nothing more than a source of
power, we’d be no better than the mythical vampires. Yet another incentive to
losing all moral restraint, one that might well prove necessary for survival. I
shook my head, and considered how I was to approach the three. First, to see if
they were awake.
Only one of
the rapists was not somnolent, I saw, concentrating on the view of things
beyond the wall. With wizard sight, you could see past solid stuff, if you put
enough concentration into it, depending on the density of the intervening
material. Presumably, the more advanced versions of the spell allowed for more.
The thin, hollow walls did not present much of an obstruction. Most of the
difficulty lay in interpreting what I saw through the haze presented by the
wall.
Summer,
afternoon, Saturday. There were not many people about, and I picked a moment
when there were none. Walking up to the door, my heart was thudding rapidly,
but I resisted the urge to look around. I opened the door smoothly, and closed
it behind me. A murmured spell, and it was locked.
“Hey Rich,
what’s up?” he whispered, looking up from the magazine he was reading.
I couldn’t
imitate the voice, and I didn’t attempt to answer, merely walked towards the
bed, smooth but fast, a smile on my face. There must have been something
reflected in my eyes and smile, because he frowned and raised his head, “Hey,
man, what’s up?”
I cast the
spell as soon as he was within reach, putting all the oomph I had behind it,
and touched his arm.
I could hear
his body convulsing on the bed, but had to shut my eyes to weather the sudden
brightness of power. It all flowed into me, and it was… ecstasy, a joy beyond
mere physical feeling, an impossible sensation of power. My skin was tingling
like mad, my innards hot and somehow swollen. I felt strong enough to send my
fist through a wall, I felt like I could fly, like I could tear a counter from
the floor and throw it across a room, one-handed.
I opened my
eyes slowly, and tried as best as I could to look at myself. The power was
congruent with my skin, my aura fluctuating and trembling bright. I could see
that little bits of it were flowing away, and opened the book.
External power accessed by such means may only be retained for short periods. It bleeds off quickly.
I’d studied
the intellect upper spell extensively, and took another look at it here and
now. As precisely as I could, I cast it.
The world
turned sharper, as if I’d tuned the textures more finely. I was still full and
overfull of power. With a shrug, I cast the grace spell. Not enough. I thought
of what else I could spend power on, and suddenly noted that I recalled
perfectly what I’d merely looked at and skimmed, knew exactly how to cast the
entire power up suite – including the spells I’d only glanced at, which would
allow me to regenerate with incredible speed, increase my awareness of my
surroundings, and enhance muscular strength and bone density. Almost the full
effect of the ritual I was waiting for, with what felt akin to martyr-like
patience.
It took no
time to make a decision. I was casting with fluid ease and greatly increased
speed and precision, and snuffed another two lives, one in the same room, the
other in the adjacent one, with not the slightest pang of conscious, powering
up. After all, these were the people I’d come here fully intent upon murdering.
I was left with too much power inside, even considering the casting of nine
second circle spells. I was astonished to discover that there was an efficiency
gradient for spell casting – it was not just a matter of gaining experience in
using your power, getting used to subsuming your own strength for magical
energy, but also in the actual spell casting itself. The book had informed me
that hidden casting techniques existed. I now learned that a true wizard barely
needed to voice incantations, and had no need to twist his body into
permutations that would snap a snake’s spine, once he learned the spell and
cast it a few times. An archwizard only truly required the mental process once
he was familiar with a spell, using his magic and shaping the power by will
alone.
I could feel
someone entering the corridor outside. I wasn’t sure if it was an auditory
recognition or some other sense, but I knew someone was walking by. Spending
more time in a room with a corpse was contra-indicated. The drained corpses
looked wrong somehow, almost starved, with hollow cheeks and flattened muscles.
There was another patient in the room, hidden behind a green curtain, but he
was safe from me. The police wouldn’t be as polite, I was quite certain.
I waited for
a minute, until the surroundings were clear, and began retracing my steps. The
receptionist was talking to an elderly woman, and the guards were as attentive
as they’d been. One thing I’d forgotten to do was tell the girls what to do in
case I was hurt. I’d have to remedy that, I thought as I stepped outside,
having to concentrate to avoid walking too smoothly, too gracefully.
I looked for
my bike, took a step forward, and froze. I could feel them above, and action
came before thought. Bounding over the rail, clearing the stairway in a single
jump, I only just avoided the… was it a coke can? … that went in a blur past
the space my head had occupied a scant moment past. I looked up only long
enough to identify them, running, leaping, and tumbling, avoiding a flurry of
objects tossed my way.
Sylphs,
looking like attenuated, elfin-featured, child-sized women. Thin, small, and
inhuman looking, hauntingly beautiful for all of that, with transparent
butterfly wings, there were three hunting me. They were powerful, but it was
not hopeless. I leaped over another fence, the crack of a tile slamming into a
nearby wall thundering in my ears, needles laying a burning track on my arm,
and looked for people. I couldn’t keep running and dodging – the sylphs were
both faster and more maneuverable. All I was doing was providing them with
entertainment.
At the turn
of the street, I nearly trampled a pair of teenaged girls walking out of a
stylist, and cast the draining spell, taking from both, but not taking enough
to kill. They swooned, and I was past, dropping into a roll to avoid another
hurled object, changing direction and jumping over a parked car. Something hit
my side with considerable force, and I dropped, the breath knocked out of me.
Unable to
utter so much as a croak, I couldn’t cast a spell. I rolled aside, wincing at
the sound that erupted behind me, twisted, and dodged again. Then the spell was
ready, and a bolt of spell flames blotted a sylph out of existence.
The pause in
the assault, as the stunned pair of sylphs regrouped, allowed me to drain three
men in jeans, leaving them gasping on the ground, and back into a side street.
Out of their
line of sight for just long enough, I raised a shield of air, spending power
with profligate desperation.
It worked. I
saw one of the sylphs, moving in a blur, and ignored the spinning discs of CDs
it sent to decapitate me. The wounds had never actually started to hurt, but I
could feel flesh and blood vessels knitting back together. Flooded with power,
the regeneration spell was working true magic.
The old
cutting spell, used with a delicate touch that was lacking before, brought the
sylph fluttering down, one wing sliced neatly away. This was no minor zephyr,
her internal connections of living air too complex and thick to cut or unravel
with such a minor magic, however much power I put behind it.
Falling, the
sylph expended most of her power, and a jagged stroke of electricity cleaved
the air, aimed with unerring precision straight at me. Air would not stop it,
solid or not, and it carried enough charge to fry a dozen men.
Stupid
sylph. A first circle transmutation spell gave a nearby parked car a magnetic
charge, and the bolt of lightning swerved and struck it with a dreadful blast
of sound. Another blast of sound rocked the street, as the firebolt I threw
caught the sylph before she touched the ground, leaving nothing of her… or the
wall behind her. Screams, shouts, the crackle of electricity, a rising plume of
smoke. It was a scene from a war movie.
I winced,
hoping I’d not killed anyone by accident, and looked for the last of the three.
She came in
on an evasion course it would take a supercomputer to predict. Even enhanced, I
wasn’t willing to take a chance on a firebolt of mine taking her down. As she
blurred closer, a charge of electric energy and pure power grew about her, and
I realized that I was in even worse trouble. The sylph was headed in for a
straight on collision, trying to take me out kamikaze style. As I drew in
breath, my barrier of air shattered, and I looked around in desperation. No
time!
Summoning
all the power I had taken, everything I had, I tried to do the impossible,
casting with every bit of efficient grace I could, annunciating each phoneme
and syllable with the utmost crispness, directing all of my will behind the
spell construct, working with barely credible speed.
A sylph is
not an ant, but she had exhausted her life energy almost completely, and I had
a significant reservoir of power. This shouldn’t kill me. Or at least, so I
distinctly hoped, as I tried to snuff her life in the most brute force fashion
I had, the only thing I could think of that had a chance of working.
My knees
turned to water and I fell face first onto… something hard. I couldn’t see,
there were tears in my eyes. Somehow, I held on to all my spells, even the
little illusion of Richard’s face.
An
interminable length of time later, someone touched me.
15
He, I could
somehow tell it was a he, said something. I was so busy concentrating on
holding on to the multiplex patterns of spells inside me and working on making
the weakness recede that I had no attention to spare.
The tidal
wave of exhaustion passed over me and I could feel the pain of a broken nose,
healing ever so slowly. I blinked my eyes open, leaking tears. The only thing
that didn’t hurt was my hair.
It took
another minute before I could focus enough on the outside to comprehend speech.
I was starving, incredibly weak, but still suffused with ordered patterns of
magic that left me stronger than I’d ever been. I felt like a starved vampire,
needing life force to quench an unquenchable thirst, but I was not insensate.
With a
titanic effort, I turned my head, lashes lowered against the blinding light,
looking around to see if there was anyone nearby. The man who’d tried to talk
to me was staring at the wreckage I’d made of the lower floor of the building
across the street, just standing there, and there was no one else close by. I
could hear sirens in the distance, and the patter of feet moving closer.
I took the
chance, gathering what little reserves I had, and cast the draining spell. He
collapsed as I felt myself come alive, the drought suddenly over. Springing to
my feet, I managed to catch him before he broke anything against the asphalt.
Alive again! My nose was already healing, and I took a tissue out of a pocket,
cleaning the worst of the bloody mess away. I needed a mirror to do it
properly, but I could probably pass muster. A cantrip cleaned the blood and
dust from my clothes, another mending those rips I could see.
The
slightest ripple in the air was the only warning, and I ducked, feeling
something pass by. I could suddenly see through the illusion of emptiness. A
veritable giant, heavily tanned, blond, the height of a basketball player and
the width of a football player, with a sword longer than I was tall in hand,
eyes dilated and a wild look on his craggy features, was trying to cut me in
half for some obscure reason. He swung the claymore at me again, fairly foaming
at the mouth, “Die, heretic!”
Danger
equals religion, I noted mentally, and dived beneath the swing, kicking at his
knee. I was faster than anything human – but so was he. The blade dipped,
following my downward slide, and I had to roll away, trying the cutting spell –
for some reason, I couldn’t see inside him – on his hand. I could see the power
just bouncing off. I skipped back, conjuring a small fence of air I held onto
for just a moment, to trip him up. It worked, and I looked at the ground,
trying to form spikes to impale him with a transmutation spell. That one didn’t
work – I needed more time to learn how to shape the particular material, time I
didn’t have.
Abandoning
the effort, already feeling the weight of spells I’d cast and was keeping
active, I began scrambling away, rising to my feet and running down the street.
A quick look over my shoulder showed me that a stern chase, this once, was not
going to be a long chase. With much longer legs, he was catching up easily.
Since magic
directed at him simply bounced, I tried something else, and sent an uncapped
pen at his throat. It wasn’t a simple toss – the pen was backed by the full
force of the second order slingshot spell, the plastic made denser, the wind
granting it all the momentum of a bullet wrapped with solid strands of magical
power.
My mouth
dropped open when he raised his sword and parried it. Oh, it cost him – the
impact was enough to send him flying, but the weapon was unharmed, and he
wasn’t hurt badly enough for my taste. There was obviously more to that sword
than appearances suggested.
It gave me
enough of a lead to shake him off, running full-tilt, picking a random course
and using the full extent of my enhanced agility to leap and climb over barriers.
Three guys
with baseballs bats, egged on by a pair of skinny teenaged girls, objected to
my passage through ‘their’ turf. I was in a killing mood, and it was an effort
not to snap their necks. I drained all three, enough to replenish my energy,
fill my reserves, and leave them weaving on their feet, barely conscious, then
used one of their bats to break an arm each and knock them out. I turned a
burning gaze on the girls, who cowered back against the fence. The petty
meanness they’d displayed had awakened my cruel streak. I didn’t hit them or
break anything. I concentrated on the first and burned away her vocal chords,
catching her as she fainted, lowering her gently to the ground. I turned my
eyes on the second, who stood there frozen, the look of fear on her face
feeding my anger… and paused as I noted the blazing signature of magical
potential. This one might be stronger than Kristen, when trained.
It was an
impulse decision. I was tired of having to go through parents, get permission,
convince and cajole. I was tired of having to always watch my own back, always
facing the threat of attack, frustrated, angry and probably not rational. I
decided to take her, just like that, there and then.
A quick look
around, and I saw that no one was looking in our direction. On the third floor
of one building, a woman was hanging out laundry, and I could hear five
children playing catch behind the fence, but neither represented a threat.
“Repeat
after me, do exactly as I do, or I’ll kill you,” I threatened her in a cold
voice of iron, and cast a breeze spell in an obvious and exaggerated manner. I
didn’t want her to have even so minor a weapon as the firefinger cantrip, not
until I was sure of her.
Trembling,
she stumbled through the spell. “No, you’re mispronouncing Isstkleth,” I
repeated the word, “and you’re twisting the index finger too much,” I
re-enacted the motion.
It took her
two minutes, but she managed to stir a small breeze.
“Welcome to
the world of magic, apprentice. You’re mine now, and you’re coming with me.
Forget about the rest of your life, it doesn’t matter, not anymore,” I took her
limp hand, careful not to use too much strength and crush it, and led her away.
She followed, automaton-like.
I used a
spell to pick a lock on a back door, climbed a flight of stairs, and came out
on a major thoroughfare. I didn’t really remember the way back, any more than I
remembered exactly how I’d come to be where I was, but the knowledge was there,
accessible. Magic was truly amazing, and somehow the little things were at
least as impressive as the building shattering energy bolts. I couldn’t begin
to imagine the attention to detail the crafting of all those spells required,
spells for almost any and every need and possibility.
I spent the
entire walk back to the hospital grounds in a state of nervous tension, every
sense stretched to its limits, but nothing occurred. The girl couldn’t keep up
with my pace, so I picked her up and carried her, effortlessly. I went in
quickly, found a bathroom, put her down, and cleaned up. I had her wash her
face, wiping away the tears, and really looked at her for the first time.
In ratty
jeans and a flowery pink top that showed a pierced navel, she just stood there
apathetically, looking down at a pair of pink sneakers. Tanned, with straight
yellow hair, I lifted her chin and looked into wide, fearful brown eyes.
Heart-shaped face, with sharp cheekbones and chin, that lent her a foxy look. A
piercing on the side of her nose showed a small, glinting red stone. Pretty,
really, though her skin was not in the best of conditions. Her breasts were
mere bumps, she was much too thin, and stood a full head shorter than myself,
truly petite.
I used some
of the power I’d taken from her friends to change her. Smoothing out the skin
and leaving her pale, removing the piercings and incinerating them, darkening
the hair, leaving her a blue eyed brunette. I shot her an appraising look –
much better.
“Look at the
mirror,” I ordered curtly.
She jumped,
turned to look, and gasped, hands rising to her face. Leaning forward, eyes
intent, she examined everything with utmost care. Her fingers slicked over
smooth skin, “Oh… nice!” she sounded sincere.
“It’s
nothing. You’re a student wizard now,” I conjured a small flame from my finger
and banished it, “and you’ll be able to change your appearance to anything,
anything at all. As beautiful or ugly as you want to be, a clone of any movie
star or model you like most. There is a great deal to tell, but not here.
First, I’m Logan, Logan Reeves. What is your name, apprentice?”
“Ah…,” she
hesitated, her attention still on her new look, “I’m Kate, I mean, Katherine
Marks.”
“Not
anymore. Pick a new name, any new name. It’s an entirely new life.”
“Oh,” she
seemed lost, looking down at her feet. At least she wasn’t catatonic or
hysterical, I bowed mentally to the ancient archwizards and their loyalty
bindings.
“Do you want
me to pick a name? How old are you?”
“I’m
fourteen. Well, almost, in November.”
“New name?”
I asked, not bothering to hide my exasperation. I’d kidnapped a 13 year-old
girl, hurrah. No more impulse decisions for, say… a month.
“You pick
it,” she threw at me.
“How about
Deirdre? Di, for short?”
She
considered a moment before nodding, “Di. Okay.”
“Now, we’ll
drive over to my place. I’ll explain a few things, and leave you there. My
other apprentices are shopping, I have to pick them up. I’ll leave you with
something important to read, and you can raid my sister’s closets – you’re her
size.”
Slowly, she
nodded, probably still in shock. I changed the colour of her shirt to white,
putting in a Garfield strip, and turned her faded blue jeans to black, pink
shoes to black.
“Let’s go,”
I took her small hand and led her to my bike. Helmets on, we drove off. Sunset
was still hours away.
I stopped
once, dropping the Richard illusion and returning the Fireblade to its original
paint scheme and license plate configuration.
Di was all
ga-ga over the size of the house and the garage, and almost dropped over her
own feet when she looked at me.
“Who… what…”
she seemed to panic.
“Relax, Di,
it’s the same Logan, but without the illusion. This is what I really look like.
At least, what I look like at present. Remember, I told you could look like
anything you wanted to? I can do the same, and so can any other competent
wizard. Don’t rely on appearances.”
“Ah,” and a
stare summed her response.
Suppressing
a sigh and a growl of frustration, I took her hand, led her to the kitchen, and
began heating leftovers and setting some cold cuts, fruits, cheese, and breads
on the table.
“Magic,
casting spells, takes energy from us, from our bodies…,” I began the basic
introduction to the wizard’s world, the usual half-hour lecture. She woke up,
actually daring to ask a couple of intelligent questions. I had her cast and
recast her one spell and eat as I lectured, and made sure I had her full
attention.
“Now…
ahahe,” I coughed as a possibility popped up. “Can you read?” I asked, tense.
The actual state of literacy around was a sudden concern. I’d already mapped out
means of recruiting and training hundreds and thousands of wizards, but I’d
never even considered the possibility of 13 year-olds not being able to read
well, or at all. Well, by the time I got that far, I’d have a staff to take
care of minor problems. Ha, Di might well be part of it.
“Yes, I can
read,” she glared at me, “I’ve even read… books!”
Whoa, an
unexpected reaction. “Here’s a book for you. This is the book of wizardry, the
basic magic manual. It contains thousands of spells, and you’ll start learning
from it. Don’t try to do too much at once,” I warned her again, “you can…”
“Yeah, yeah,
kill myself, magic is dangerous. Heard you the first time,” she stopped
abruptly, probably swallowing a pejorative adjective.
“Now, follow
me,” I gave her a quick tour of the house, and finally led her to the forbidden
shrine, telekinetically picking the lock on my sister’s suite. I pointed
inside, gesturing expansively, “Closets, inside. Take a pile of clothes, put
them up in one of the guest rooms, your new home for a few days. Bought a new
house, so we’ll probably be moving soon. My parents will be back on Monday, and
if they ask, you tell them I helped you out, and you’d rather not talk about
it. Refuse to talk about it.”
“Wha…” she
started, gulped, and quieted.
“Ask.”
“What did
you do to my friends?” she lowered her eyes, lips trembling.
“Who? They
don’t exist for you anymore, Di. They wouldn’t even recognize you. For your
information, the guys each have a broken arm, and the girl will never talk
again.”
“Never
talk?” she yipped. “Just a broken arm? You touched them, they sorta, like,
fell.”
“Do you
think it’s amusing, hitting people who walk by with bats, just because they’re
there? Do you think it’s wrong?” I caught her chin, and made her look me in the
eye. She struggled for a moment, then opened her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s
a blast. Okay, don’t, I admit it’s wrong,” she gasped out as I slowly tightened
my grip.
“My
sorceresses have to follow certain standards, Di. Senseless, pointless cruelty
is not something I condone or am prepared to tolerate. I burned your little
friend’s vocal chords to nothing, Di,” she tried to cower away and groaned. I
released her before I grew annoyed enough to grind her jaw to dust.
“You’ll need
to shape up. Stay quiet and try to learn as best as you can. Listen to the
others. I’ll introduce you when I return. You can have a home with us, if you
do it right, and everything you ever dreamed of. Money is not a problem
anymore, Di. It’s a different world, with different rules, one Queensbury never
saw.”
“Queensberry?”
“The 9th
Marquis of Queensbury, which happens to be a Scottish peerage, endorsed a code
of rules for boxing, known as the Marquis of Queensbury rules. What I was
attempting to explain is that we’re in a war with no rules, no mercy. Your
life, our lives, depend upon our actions, and every single day can bring death
or worse. I’ve already fought for my life today, twice. Because of what you now
are, there are myriad beings which seek your death. Believe.”
She shook
her head, rolling her eyes. “You’re so fucking weird, boyo. Fuck, even the
teachers at school don’t talk like that.”
“I’m well
aware that I use perhaps more words than are strictly necessary, with few short
cuts and little slang. After you read a few thousand books, I imagine you’ll
sound somewhat refined, too. A sorceress is a lady first,” I added. My
sorceresses would be ladies, people I could and would respect, I was most
certainly going to insist on that much. “Language is a weapon and a tool, quite
a sharp one. Lawyers?”
“Bloodsucking
pimps?”
“In
overwhelming quantities, perhaps,” I nodded, “but try to imagine life without
the rule of law, and how well an itty bitty girl like you would fare in such a
world.”
“Ah?” she
looked at me quizzically.
“I’ll give
you a few books to read, later. Go on, take a shower, try the hot tub, pick
some clothes and a room, learn a few more spells from the book and practice.
I’ll be back, with company.”
Without
further ado, I turned and left her to manage on her own. A glance at the wrist
showed me that less than two hours had passed since I’d left Chris and Co. – it
felt like a year had passed, every second drawn out unbearably. For the first
time I could recall, I felt itchy at being alone, uncomfortable and nervous.
I took a few
minutes to check the computers, and was startled and mightily pleased to find
that Ellis Wright, the former co-worker I’d set on finding lost books of magic,
had sent a reply to Richard Morgan, the alias I’d used for that job, and he’d
found three of the hundreds plus books I’d mentioned. He went into detail,
which I swiftly digested, and I sent him the requisite funds, plus a hefty
commission, writing him to order the books and have them delivered to the P.O.
box that constituted Richard Morgan, and to send me the tracking numbers on the
orders.
The books
he’d found were of relatively minor use at present, dealing as they did with
lower order elemental bindings, advanced magical construction, and weather
shaping rituals, but every little bit of magical knowledge was welcome. The
good news managed to turn my mood around. I’d survived, acquired another
powerful sorceress, and would soon have my start on a real magical library. Oh,
the little sorceress’ manners were a bit raw, but she didn’t seem completely
ignorant or stupid. The first could be remedied, the second would have been a
disaster. That she had a temper was good, for she’d definitely have need of it.
I spend a
few more minutes replying to mail before the discomfort grew pronounced. It was
a strange feeling, this restlessness, for I’d always been comfortable alone. I
was probably concerned about the girls’ safety, as they were prone to using
small magics. The local court of air had sent teams of sylphs, and perhaps
other creatures, to scour the city for magicians – best check up on them. I
looked at my phone with a grimace, for I was not at all fond of using it.
Decision made, I sent them all a text message ‘no magic’, and hurried down to
the garage.
I let go of
ordinary caution and drove at full speed, weaving in and out of the traffic,
making the mall in record time. With awareness and reaction speed souped up,
I’d need divine intervention or enemy action to get into trouble on the road.
I spent half
an hour looking for them, before acknowledging the hopelessness of the low-tech
method. The mall was huge, and every fifth store sold clothes, shoes, or an
accessory they were likely to look at. With Mickey and Chris along, I couldn’t
rule out book, computer, and gadget shops, either.
The
background noise on the phone was intense, so I cupped the speaker and almost
shouted at Chris, “Where are you?”
“Needed
food, rest for sore feet,” she shouted back, and named the bar cum club they
were at. She offered to give me directions, but I declined, knowing that it
would be easier to find it through the mall directory or questioning people. I
took out my little hand-held pocket computer and traced the path to Kaburo’s
Club, which was actually located just outside the ‘borders’ of the mall. I stopped
in a shop on the way, purchasing a wreath – can’t have the girls accusing me of
never buying them flowers. I recognized a few of the shop-frenzy-struck people
from my high school, all of them richer students. It made sense, as I’d
deliberately picked a higher class of shopping venue for this little trip.
The interior
of the club had an intimate atmosphere, little nooks and crannies holding
tables and chairs that granted an illusion of privacy. There was room for
dancing, and in center stage was an actual stage – horror of horrors, they’d
picked a karaoke bar. A woman wearing a trifle too much makeup was doing a
perfectly horrid rendition of ‘girls just wanna have fun’ when I walked in. To
avoid wincing and stoppering my ears, I concentrated on scanning the room,
locating five members of my school’s elite, all of the female persuasion,
sitting together and sipping on concoctions that looked poisonous, what with
the greenish neon-glow they emitted, before I found them.
I hurried
over to my girls’ table, moving perhaps a trifle too fast, dodging the
waitresses a bit too adroitly. I really needed to learn how to tamp down on the
enhancements, down to the unconscious level. I’d managed not to tear away the
doorknobs back home, but it had required some attention and concentration. Di
probably had bruises from where I’d gripped her, I frowned at the thought, the
expression turning to a smile in response to the smiles Chris, Mickey, Kristen,
and even Trish, directed at me.
I drew the
flowers out from behind my back, and broke off a flower for each, setting it in
their hair. Sitting down next to Mickey, I noticed only a few packages on the
floor behind them, concluding that the rest was probably already in the car.
I weathered
the thanks and kisses with aplomb, managing to steal a bit of food.
“Hey!” Kris
complained, snatching at the chocolate croissant in my hands, “that’s mine!”
“Now
Kristen, sweet, I’m doing you a favor,” I took another bite, “these things
aren’t good for you. Don’t all the magazines tell you that?”
I caught her
kick and pulled her leg, dropping her under the table, and looked around to see
if anyone was watching. Then I slithered below, using my grip on her foot as a
lever to twist her around, shattering her concentration and breaking the spell
she was trying to cast.
“No magic,
Kris,” I whispered into her ear, “and what did I say about kicking?”
“What?” she
froze in my arms.
“Tying you
down and tickling you with a feather… for an hour.”
“You did
not!” she struggled impotently.
“Well, I
promised Christine, but you are hereby granted notice and warning that the same
shall apply to you. Now let’s get off the floor,” I let go and she scrambled
away.
I caught
Mickey finishing the croissant in contention, and had to grin openly at the
dainty, prim way she held it.
“You know, I
think he needs to be punished,” Chris mentioned casual-like, and Kris nodded
enthusiastically.
“See if I
ever bring you flowers again,” I huffed.
There was
lull in the deadly wails and sonic assault from the stage, and I relaxed back
in the chair, popping my ears with a yawn. The show director, or whatever the
job title might be, took the microphone, “Soooo! Thank you for that lovely
rendition of Cindy Lauper’s song. Now, who’s next? Let’s see,” he started to
consult a list, but his eyes turned to focus on our table. To my horror, the
girls were all waving and pointing at me, and Chris tried to push me.
“So, it
seems like we have a volunteer!” he smirked.
Pushing me
wasn’t doing much good, but everyone started to chant, “Sing! Sing! Sing!” so I
gave in to the inevitable and climbed up to the stage with ill grace.
I whispered
which song to the guy, and grabbed the microphone. My hands were sweaty.
Serious anxiety. I took a deep breath and willed myself calm as the music
started.
I looked at
our table, caught Chris’ eyes, and started warbling away,
If
I had to live my life without you near me
The days would all be empty
The nights would seem so long
With you I see forever oh so clearly
Actually, it sounded surprisingly good,
Our
dreams are young and we both know
They'll take us where we want to go
Hold me now, touch me now
Almost professional, really,
Nothing's
gonna change my love for you
You ought to know by now how much I love you
One thing you can be sure of
I'll never ask for more than your love
I should
have considered how the enhancements influenced control of the voice,
Nothing's
gonna change my love for you
You ought to know by now how much I love you
The world may change my whole life through
But nothing's gonna change my love for you
I sang on, pouring some emotion into it, and from
everyone looking at me, now at least half the crowd was staring at Chris, whose
face had turned very red, almost a match for her hair. She stared at me
resolutely, fingering the flower I’d put in her hair – some sort of violet
orchid. Mickey and Kris were grinning at her, while Trish’s eyes went from
Chris to me, an odd expression on her face.
I bowed at the applause, ‘whoos’, and ‘you tell her!’
comments from the audience, and politely refused an encore. With my sharpened
ears, I could hear quite a few comments I wasn’t supposed to, very interesting
comments. I sat back by Mickey, and Chris, still red-faced, leaned over her,
grabbed the back of my head and kissed me with impressive intensity. After
nearly a minute of lip-lock, we had to pause for some air, and I brought Mickey
in for a three-way kiss.
All of which elicited more talk, including some
particularly uncomplimentary comments from four of the five girls I’d recognized
from school. The fifth, unexpectedly, was silent. With the light-speed gossip
connections, I computed that almost everyone in school would learn of my
changed circumstances – or rather, something of my changed circumstances – by
Monday, at the very latest. I couldn’t think of any ramifications, quite
possibly because I was very distracted. Chris had gotten quite good at kissing
and Mickey was no slouch, though I had considerably more endurance, and a more
agile tongue as well. Having to restrain myself from kissing them hard enough
to bruise kept the experience from being completely blissful, as did my growing
erection and extant paranoia – I couldn’t help but listen hard for anyone’s
approach.
“Okay,
enough already!” Kristen complained, “So you’re in luuuv. You can demonstrate
that back in your place, not while we’re burning shopping time.”
“Kris!”
Trish sounded shocked. “You’re such an insensitive bitch! Or maybe you’re
jealous?” she insinuated.
“Hardly!”
Kris grinned as we disengaged, “Tomorrow’s all mine.”
“Or rather,
as much of it as you manage to retain consciousness through,” I remarked,
settling Mickey on my lap.
“What?!”
Kris and Trish looked at me.
“You can
only take so much pleasure before you faint, Kris,” I explained, “and not
letting you recover, at all, seems a bit too cruel.”
“Oh, be
cruel to me, pleaaaaaase,” she stretched her hands out, wrists close together.
Chris caught
her wrists, closing her hands around them, and pulled Kris closer, making her
lean over the table.
“Oh, I will,
don’t worry. What are friends for?” she purred and blew Kris a kiss before
releasing her. Kris catapulted back into her seat, the impact of her back
striking the plastic audible.
Trish caught
my eye, “Shopping, huh?”
“Quite.”
“I didn’t
mean to upset you,” Chris turned to me, finger pointing at the stage.
“You
didn’t,” I replied curtly.
“Yeah,
right. What is it with you and music?”
I shrugged,
“I found that when I’m working or reading, which was most of the time, music
either distracted me, or was so much of a background thing that I didn’t even
notice it.”
“And
singing? I’ve never heard you hum or whistle, either.”
“Well,” I
smiled in embarrassment, “I can’t whistle. Or, rather,” I blinked thoughtfully,
“I couldn’t. I might be able to manage it now.”
“The
singing?” she pressed.
“I used to
always sing along, with whatever was playing,” I admitted, “it was something of
a habit. My sister got sufficiently obnoxious about it that I changed the
habit.”
“I don’t
think I like your sister,” Chris said coldly.
“Join the
club,” I looked at her warmly.
“Did you
mean what you sang?” Kris asked out of the blue.
“Huh?” was
my intelligent answer.
“The song?
Did you mean the words?” she insisted.
Trish looked
at us, blinking.
“Essentially
yes, literally no,” I watched expressions shift, “I’ve never been in love
before… and I’m going to ask for a lot more, besides what I’ve already asked.
As for ‘nothing’, or ‘never’, well, that’s what I feel now, but we will have
centuries or more to learn.”
“Assuming we
survive,” Mickey piped up.
I just
wasn’t cut our for the ruthless mastermind job. My instincts screamed ‘protect
them’, and my reasoned response was identical. Perhaps I’d erred in picking an
all-girl team – but then again, I hadn’t considered myself the slightest bit
chauvinistic. It was all very confusing.
“Quite. I
had another encounter, we have a new recruit back home. Blue eyes, pale, dark
hair, petite. I can size things for her by eye, we need to pick her a full new
wardrobe.”
They stared
at me in shock and concern.
“Encounter?”
Chris whispered, her hand and Mickey’s reaching for mine.
“Three
sylphs and a religious fanatic with a gigantic sword.”
Trish
started laughing, quieting quickly when we all stared at her. “What? You don’t
really…”
“This is no
laughing matter,” Mickey said, “He nearly died today. How did you manage them
all?”
“I’ll give
you all the details back home, but I’ve decided my parents definitely don’t
need to know anything. Let them decide I’ve taken up with Christine,” I caught
a red curl and brought her in for a quick nip on the tip of her nose, “and
moved out. I’m sure we can move out to the new house on Monday, before my
parents land.”
“You want to
keep them safe?” Chris asked.
“Exactly.”
“They’re
going to let you move out, just like that?” Trish said, disbelieving. “You’re
still in high school, aren’t you?”
“Yes and
yes. They have some idea of my net worth,” I shrugged, “and they know me.
They’ll be upset and figure I’ve gone crazy over a girl,” I smiled at Chris,
“but they’ve always pressed us to go out and make our own mistakes. As compared
to reading about other peoples’ mistakes and learning from that. ‘You need to
pick up some real life experience’,” I mimicked my father’s voice. “If I’ve
heard that once… I’m sure they’ll categorize this as ‘real life experience’,
and expect me back in a month or two. Or not, they can be perceptive.”
“And our new
recruit? Another college girl?” Mickey asked.
“Not quite
14,” I scowled, “but she has the strongest potential I’ve seen in a girl.”
“In a girl?”
Trish asked.
“According
to the book, males are stronger, females more numerous. Though I haven’t
bothered to look at anything male, as of yet. Call me prejudiced. I distinctly
recall explaining all of that,” I shot Trish a quizzical look.
“Well,” she
avoided my eyes, “I didn’t… don’t really remember ‘all of that’ all that well.”
“Then don’t
be surprised when you’re surprised,” Mickey smiled.
“Those girls
are looking at us, whispering and giggling. They’ve been doing that since you
sat down, after the song,” Kris pointed out the table’s direction with a subtle
movement of her brows, but I knew whom she meant.
“They go to
my, now our, school. Snobbish, rich bitches. I think they live on gossip,” I
pursed my lips. “So when we go back to school, everyone will know who you are
with, how slutty you are, etc. You know how that goes.”
“School,”
Chris smirked, “they won’t know what hit them.”
Kristen’s
face went from angry to speculative in a flash, and the corner of her mouth
curved. “Should be interesting times.”
“Recruiting
ground?” Mickey asked.
“Most
definitely, I’ll arrange group tutoring for the talented. I’ve mapped out a few
plans for world domination,” I paused to practice my evil laughter and the
girls rolled their eyes, appealing to the ceiling for succor, “and that’s phase
three.”
“You just
broke rule 20,” Chris admonished me.
“Huh?” Kris
grunted.
“There’s
this list of rules for evil overlords who plan to take over the universe, all
the gathered wisdom from movies,” Chris replied, “and ‘I will not indulge in
maniacal laughter’ is number 20 on the list.”
“You’re just
sick,” Kris accused her, “Thanks for displaying the inner nerd. I sometimes
forget.”
“Phase one
would be us and studying?” Chris asked me, turning to look away from Kris.
“And phase
two is stopping the demons from using the meteor shower for whatever they’re
planning. Obviously, I need to reread the overlord list, just in case I’m
missing something. Wouldn’t want my beautiful and evil daughter to fall in love
with the hero, any comic relief, or time travel devices. Now I have to consider
sword-toting religious maniacs and increased elemental activity. They’re
putting out patrols, in force.”
“Notably,
consider how to avoid them?”
I nodded at
Mickey, devoutly hoping the elementals and the religious maniacs would take
care of each other. It would be ever so convenient. If the demons stepped into
the mix, it would really make my summer vacation. Standing in the crowd and
watching the fur and blood fly was ever so much more fun than standing on the
arena floor when they’re opening the bars. Of course, lions were easy compared
to what we faced.
“We need a
five year old,” Chris commented.
“Wha…? Could
you get off that stupid list? I’ll even promise to read it!”
“If you
don’t laugh when you read it, Kris, I’ll tickle you,” Chris warned her.
“I’ll laugh,
I’ll laugh!” she raised her hands in surrender.
“How are we
going to teach a lot of people and avoid notice?” Mickey changed the subject.
“It is a
problem,” I admitted, “but hardly insurmountable. They can practice
individually. There is a physical book of wizardry, but it turns out that much
of it is a mental construct. When you ‘wake up’, it puts a kernel in your mind.
Those books we conjure out of nowhere are all in our minds. It’s a high order
archimagical construct. But that’s not all. Remember, I’ll be able to enhance
people, so everyone will learn the basics very quickly. The minor magics we’re
struggling with would be a day’s work for a fifth order enhanced student. We’ll
also be able to use magic freely near ‘hot spots’, places so full of magical
power that what we add would not be noticed. Later on, we can build wards. I’m
pretty sure the book’s also responsible for my sudden urge for world conquest. I’m
too mellow to take on the responsibility, without a big push.”
“Lazy? You?”
Chris stared.
“Not lazy,
not when the project engages my interest. But you obviously have no idea how
complicated this will be, how much work it involves. I’ve never had any real
interest in power over people, and this will force me to make hundreds of major
decisions every single day, until and unless I find the proper people to
delegate matters to. It’s not going to be pretty, I assure you.”
“Trish,” I
looked at her, “I realize this is all foreign, barely believable, and utterly
weird. How are you coping with things?”
“I…,” she
looked around, as if for an escape, “Well, I’m coping. I have to, right? I
don’t have a choice.”
“Actually,
you do. I thought of setting you up with some funds, a rented apartment, and
letting you live your own life. You can go to college, work, live in
comfortable ignorance. Mickey suggested you might prefer to stick with us.”
Trish looked
uncertain, actually biting her lower lip. Terminally cute.
“Stick with
you, doing what?” she asked warily.
“Whatever
needs doing. A secretary job, basically. I’m not going to drag you into danger,
but just being around us is dangerous. On the other hand, you’ve seen what can
happen when you’re alone,” I shrugged. “On this subject, I can’t really advise
you. I will say that the medical we offer is quite extraordinary,” I smiled.
“Medical?”
“Healing
magic, longevity treatment, whatever is necessary. We take care of our own.”
“Oh! I
didn’t consider that,” she looked intrigued at the offer. “What does longevity
treatment translate to?”
“I can’t
keep you alive forever, but you’ll live to see your second, possibly even
third, century. No wrinkles, no sagging, no growing physically old. When your
systems fail, it will be sudden.”
“What about
them?” she pointed her finger at Kris, Mickey, and Chris.
“They’re
wizards, they regenerate once enhanced. Five centuries, without interference.
With my contribution, there’s no limit. Wizards are almost a separate species,
physically.”
“What do you
mean? How, how can you be so different?”
“Truthfully,
I don’t really know, as of yet. But I can feel what the first and least set of
enhancement does, and I have a hint. Compare a retarded child of five to a
genius in the best of physical shapes, and you’ll have a glimmer. You think I’m
joking about world domination, don’t you?”
“Well, yes,”
she admitted.
“He’s not,”
Kris interjected. “It’ll be easy, really. Even I can figure that much out, from
what I’ve seen in the book. I wonder how the demons have been held back all
these years with no one noticing all the magic. Really, what a wizard can do is
purely amazing. What an archwizard can do is a bit beyond our comprehension.
Sure, it’ll require some organization, but wizards once ruled the world. The
wheel turns,” her voice assumed a portentous tone, “and we can rise again. It’s
not as though the current rulers are even half-way competent,” she shot Trish a
sharp look.
“Given,”
Trish nodded, “But still, you have to admit that world conquest sounds
ridiculous.”
“So did
magic, a scant week ago,” Chris contributed. “Any idea what the demons…” Chris’
voice trailed off as a girl came up to our table. Of the five, she was the one
who’d not chosen to utter insults. A quick search of my memory brought her name
to mind, Melissa Ericks, a cheerleader I’d seen around. Long brown hair, brown
eyes, and seriously built. Delegated as an emissary on a fact-finding mission,
probably due to her low position on the totem pole – which probably meant that
she wasn’t a total bitch.
“Hi,” she
started somewhat hesitantly, “I’m…”
“Melissa
Ericks, born 16 years and 63 days ago, address…”
“Hey!” she
almost shrieked, “How the hell do you know that?”
“Magic.”
“Come on,
really?”
“It’s on the
school computers. Your grade point average is…”
“Yeah, okay,
got it. How the hell do you remember all that shit? About everyone?” she seemed
genuinely curious, “And how come you’re not in jail?”
“Perfect
memory, not quite everyone, brains and lack of said.”
It took her a
moment to digest that, “Everyone at school, I meant.”
“Yes, I
remember everything about everyone in school. Of course, I’ve been rude, yet
again. Allow me to introduce Christine, Mickey, Kristen, and Trish. In case
you’re deaf, this is Melissa.”
“Ah, which
one’s your girlfriend?” she asked.
“Girlfriend?
Oh, none of them. Christine is me fiancée, the others are sex slaves.”
Trish and
Kris sputtered, nearly choking on what they munching, and glared at me. Mickey
was sitting on my lap, my arms wrapped around her, and I slid one hand beneath
her shirt, fondling a breast, fingers reaching to delicately pinch her nipple.
“What!” she
took a step back, the most delicious expression of shock on her face.
“I’m afraid
you’re not qualified for such a position,” I added.
“No talent?”
Kris asked.
“None
whatsoever.”
“You just
wouldn’t survive a real orgasm,” Chris interjected.
“Not to
mention the whips and chains,” Mickey said dryly, emitting a small moan as my
ministrations continued.
Melissa
retreated further, a horrified-fascinated look on her face. “You’re just sick!”
she announced, flouncing her way back to her friends.
“She’s
right, you know,” Trish commented.
“The word is
‘shameless’, Trish, not sick,” Kris giggled. “Did you see the look on her face?
Whaddya wanna bet that being tied up and ravished is one of her favorite
fantasies?”
“No bet,”
Chris shook her head.
Trish rolled
her eyes, “I think we’re done with the food, and I rested enough. Shopping,
anyone?”
There was a
bit of an argument concerning who would pay the bill, which Kris eventually
won. The triumphant expression on her face had me laughing, as I hadn’t
expected the cards to be that much of a novelty.
Shopping
with the girls was an interesting experience, not half as bad as I’d feared.
Their pleasure in showing me what they wanted and modeling the clothes for me
was infectious, and they were much more efficient than I’d expected. Shopping
as an art was apparently in the blood, because it took less than an hour to
pick a rather generous wardrobe for Di, from socks and undies outwards. We also
bought a truckload full of clothes for everyone else, and a surprising number
of gadgets, bits of jewelry, and ‘cute’ stuff. Everything from bath and massage
oils to Lonely Planet guides, fluffy dolls, posters, and some actual artwork.
The reminder that we were going to have an opportunity to redecorate a new
house served as all the license they needed to buy everything that took their
fancy. Working as the mule wasn’t much of a problem, as we made arrangements to
deliver most everything to the new house. Keeping watch for disguised demons
and other dangers wasn’t much of a distraction, as my magically enhanced senses
instantly pointed out anything even slightly suspicious, allowing me to focus
on it and dismiss it as non-threatening. Gradually, I relaxed.
Packing
things into the car was a bit of a problem, until Criss & Cross agreed to
share the front seat, leaving Trish squashed by packages in the back seat.
I took point
on the bike, alertness raised a notch, ready to warn them of any possible
police interference, but the drive went smoothly. It was difficult to keep the
reins on, not to use the full speed of the bike, but the smooth threading
through the afternoon traffic was enjoyable enough.
Di caught us
as we were unloading the car, slamming the door open and running into the
garage. She was dressed in clinging black leather, a slinky-slutty skirt-top
combination that didn’t leave too much to the imagination.
“Yow, your
sister’s got more clothes than everyone I know put together. And she’s a
complete skank, ye know?”
“Yes, I
know,” she jerked back in surprise at my lie. “Girls, this is Di, short for
Deirdre. Even my sister has better manners, as you’ve probably figured out. Di,
these are Trish, Christine, Kristen, and Mickey,” I introduced them. “You won’t
have to raid my sister’s closets again and endure her lack of taste. We bought
you a full wardrobe. Next time we go shopping, you can customize it, though by
then you’ll probably have enough magic to change the clothes to whatever you
like. These are yours,” I pointed to the bags.
It took
physical force to stop her from looking at everything there and then, and I
helped her carry everything to her room, leaving her pawing through the mass. She
just poured everything on the bed.
“If you want
to start studying more advanced spells, join us in the kitchen,” I told her as
I left.
I was not
overly surprised to find myself alone in the kitchen. Trish had a full wardrobe
of her own to settle, and the others hadn’t skimped, and hadn’t had quite
everything delivered. Figuring that a concentrated study session needed lots of
food, I began cooking like mad, using all my speed and almost every appliance.
I’d never engaged in a full-out race in the kitchen, and it was a lot of fun.
Mickey nearly went cross-eyed at everything I’d managed when she came in twenty
minutes later, and everyone else was also amazed.
“Why’d we
need so much grub?” Di asked testily. “I’m not that thin, and a tenth would
make me sick.”
“We’re going
to need a lot of food,” Chris explained calmly, “as this is going to be a major
study session. Magic feeds on the body, which in turn needs a lot of fuel. You
won’t believe how much you can shovel in.”
“Truth. But
there’s actually another way to gain energy,” I looked at Trish. “There’s a
second order spell that allows me to siphon energy from people. I need to cast
a second order spell on all our wizards here, Trish, and four of them are a bit
much for me. Can I take some energy from you? I won’t take too much, and you
can easily replenish it from the food and a night’s sleep.”
“I…” she bit
her lip, drawing back. “I suppose, this once. But you’re not going to make a
habit out of it, right?”
“Just for
emergencies, when there’s real need, and when you volunteer. I can’t promise
that I’ll ask permission when it’s an emergency,” I shrugged, “and I’ll never
take enough to harm you. Just remember, in an emergency, we’ll be fighting for
your life, too. I’ll need to make up rules for this sort of… well, vampirism.
That’s what it is, basically. We’ll go with common sense, for now, what I said.
When it’s an emergency,” I spoke to the girls, “take what you need. When it’s
not, ask for it. And never, never, take more than someone can give, unless you’re
trying to kill them anyway, in which case this method is as acceptable as any
other form of murder.”
My words
shook Trish and left Di pale, but the other three merely nodded. I held out my
hand to Trish and after a few seconds’ wait, she took it. The spell drained
enough energy to leave her weaving in her seat, and I told her to “Eat!” before
I went around, casting the intellect enhancement spell four times.
Trish began
to dig into the food with a ravenous intensity, and I directed my wizards as to
which spells they were to study, before I turned to my own work. I was alert
enough to notice Chris whispering into Mickey’s ear, but did not have the
opportunity to say anything before she slid under the table, slid her hand into
my pants, and took me in her mouth. After which, I wasn’t really capable of
coherent speech. If I’d thought she was good before, well… enhanced mental
capability came with a few unexpected bonuses, and her moist mouth and writhing
tongue were impossibly good. I lasted for less than three minutes, but with my
own enhancements managed a credible attempt at the sterility spell.
“Well?”
Chris demanded as Mickey cleaned up below.
“Not quite,”
I gasped, “but I almost made it. Practice, practice, practice,” I managed a
smile.
“What are
you babbling?” Di looked up from her book, “Practice getting blowjobs? Made
what?”
“He told you
about the first enhancement ritual, right?” Kris asked.
“Oh,”
understanding lit her face, “Practice magic while fucking, right?”
“Essentially,”
Mickey replied as she slithered up into her chair. Trish, cheeks red, had
looked assiduously away from the ‘action’.
The rest of
the evening passed quickly, as I studied spell after spell, helped my wizards
manage their wizard
sight, and gave them the details of my afternoon adventure. Fully enhanced, I
managed to learn and cast two third circle spells. Concentrating on battle
magics, I managed to break the second circles of life and energy manipulation,
casting a spell rotted flesh away – one less fish in Mom’s big aquarium – and
another that threw a telekinetic punch. It made studying second circle life and
energy manipulation spells much easier, but exhausted me. When I tumbled into
bed, close to midnight, even Mickey’s skilled mouth wasn’t capable of raising
the dead. She gave up on our 69 after she came for the third time and we curled
together, meditation falling away to restful sleep.
Waking up to
a blowjob must be every guy’s secret dream – I’d certainly read about it enough
times. It’s as good as advertised, erotic dream fading into even better
reality. Without enhancement spells, I didn’t even bother to try a spell,
spurting into Mickey’s throat with a groan. We tussled on the huge bed until I
caught her and held her down, nibbling on her breasts, going down, licking her
until she tried to tear my hair off and begged me to stop.
I put on a
pair of shorts, Mickey striding beside me, defiantly nude but for a pair of
slippers, and we went down to the kitchen, our usual gathering spot. Bedroom
games were cause enough to work up an appetite, even without magic.
A naked
Kristen was tied spread-eagled upon the kitchen table, light brown skin smooth
and hairless, a strip of black cloth blind-folding her, a red plastic gag
filling her mouth. Chris was kneeling next to her, black leather crop in hand,
nail tweaking a nipple.
“You know,
Kris, you really shouldn’t have mocked my inner geek. I’m ever so sensitive, if
not quite,” a thwap of the crop on flat stomach had me jumping, “as sensitive
as you are. Payback’s a bitch, but I’m afraid that’s Mistress Bitch to you,”
the crop struck on one thigh and then another in rapid succession, and her hips
rose from the table as the gag muffled whatever sounds she was trying to make.
Chris
noticed our presence and smiled widely, licking her lips at us. She jumped off
the table, showing that she was sans panties beneath the short red skirt, hard
nipples prominent against the thin material of her top. “Well?” she was flushed
with excitement, “What do you think?”
I looked at Mickey and couldn’t help but
grin at the light in her eyes. Mickey nodded sharply and turned to Chris, “We
like.”