Geekomancy (28 page)

“Anytime now would be good,” Ree called across the clearing while backpedaling. She kept the sword high and in front of her as she retreated, the tip of the blade tracking the snake’s head.

Drake’s voice was level, formal. “I am aiming as quickly as I can, Ms. Ree, but also endeavoring not to hit you in addition to—”

The snake lunged, and Ree dodged to the side, counter-thrusting at its eye. The serpent shrugged around the blow, and her sword skipped off the side of its head, taking a scale with it. “Then go for the tail!”

“Very well,” Drake said, and Ree zigged to her right, drawing the snake’s attention, then pushed off and zagged left, putting extra distance between her and the
very
persistent reptile.

“Now!” Ree called, and she heard the
vraahm
of the rifle’s blast. The green blast hit the snake just above the tip of its tail, and the beast coiled back in on itself. Drake fired again, and the snake recoiled, slithering toward the shimmering pool.

Ree raised the sword up high, shouting her best
kiai
as she brought it down, chopping off the tail right above the glowing wound. The snake became nothing more than a trail of iridescent ichor that drained into the pool.

Ree backed up, blade dripping and heart pounding. She took conscious control of her breathing until she felt a flash of pain across her back when her lungs were full.
Right, not so much on that.
She watched the pool, but nothing came back out.

“Frak me, that was close,” she said.

Drake trained his rifle on the pond as he approached. “Are you struck?”

“I didn’t get bit, but my back got painfully friendly with a stump on that tree.” She stretched out her back, finding where the hurt started. “Where the hell did that thing come from, and why?”

“A fine question, and not one I am currently able to answer. I would, however, suggest that we vacate the premises, lest we find ourselves drawing the attention of any denizens of Spirit that might investigate the reptile’s cries.”

“Got it. Which way, navigator?”

Drake paused to look up at the ley lines arcing across the sky. He turned in place, looking in all directions. He stopped and pointed. “North. Or rather, the direction corresponding to north in our world. The poles in Spirit are foci of elemental rather than electromagnetic forces. Regardless, north shall suffice.”

He really can’t help it, can he?
she thought, finding the overexplaining more amusing each time, rather than less, which was a blessing. “If you say so. Let’s blow this snakesicle stand.” Ree checked the moon and started walking the way that matched north in the real park.

Following her, Drake chuckled. “Mademoiselle, if you ever had the opportunity to visit Avalon, I would pay all the gold in the world to see people react to your mannerisms and vernacular.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I’m not sure—”

Ree cut Drake off. “I’ll take it as a compliment. How about we leave it there, and we both get to feel good about ourselves?”

“As you wish.”

•   •   •

Emerging from the park woods, Ree saw a pack of half-mouse, half-cockroach beasties scuttling and scrabbling across the street, and she quickly did her best to sandblast the image from her brain lest it haunt her dreams for all eternity and then some.

Another hour here, and I’ll have enough crazy-ass images to last me through a hundred screenplays.

Ree looked up at the north side of the city, where the hills dropped down to the bay. A cluster of ley lines converged into a tower in the industrial district. Others arced away, out of town or out into the ocean.

“Where now?” Ree asked.

Drake reached a gloved hand to his chin and pondered. “This will take a moment.” He pulled several tools from his coat and took off his goggles. Ree paced back and forth, trying to stay awake and aware while he fiddled with his gadgets.

Drake donned his goggles again, then looked to the tower. “It’s as I feared. The trail seems to lead this way, though not to a glen but to a nexus! It appears that the spirit is attempting to quit the city!”

“So the Muse is skipping town?” she asked.

Drake nodded. “Spirit parallels our world, ports serving as their nexus points as well as connecting distant realms.”

Ree scanned the towering pillars that lined the aetheric port. Each had a beacon at its top, with energy streaming in from all around. “Are those the portals, then?”

“Indeed. Though it may not be leaving. It may be calling in assistance.”

Ree shuddered. “Let’s say it’s skipping town. That way’s less terrifying.”

“Either way, it will be among a myriad of other spirits. We will have to tread lightly, Ree. Perhaps some sort of cloaking method would be appropriate.”

Ree waited a second as Drake looked at her expectantly. “What, me?”

“Indeed. My capabilities are limited here without the rest of my devices. Whereas your talents are more flexible.”

Ree scratched her head, thinking. “Since when? All I’ve done is the emulation trick, and I’m fresh out of genre. Are you saying I’m going to get cell reception in the spirit world?”

“I don’t know, do you?” Drake asked.

Ree looked at her phone. No bars. She wandered around the street, feeling foolish all the while. Streaming was out of the question, so she tapped through to her video library to see if any of it could help.
What I really need is a whole weekend of downloading, indexing, and making playlists to build up an arsenal.

Flipping through video podcasts, short skits, and the two episodes of her abortive webseries, she stopped on a film clip she’d ripped a while back.
Hey, that might actually do something.
She tapped on a video excerpt from the seventh Harry Potter movie, where she’d cut out the fantastic animated short to show off to people. “I think I’ve got something. Have you seen this?”

She played the video for Drake, focusing on the feelings the video evoked, the implications in the story world, the cool of being a spell-slinging badass like Tonks or Hermione.

As the video clip reached its conclusion, with the third brother greeting death, Ree felt the Geekomancy open a door in her mind, energy crackling through her consciousness.

“If only I’d brought my wand,” she mused to herself when the video was done. She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a fountain pen, one of the nice ones she practiced signing her autograph with when she needed a pick-me-up.

I can do this. Your focus determines your reality, right? I can do this.

She stared at the fountain pen, thought wizardly thoughts, and tried to come up with the right fake Latin for the occasion. “
Obfuscari,
” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she remembered Eastwood’s trick in the tunnels. A second passed, and she didn’t feel any different. Ree sighed.

“Hullo?”

“Did it work?” she asked.

“I believe so; I cannot see you at all,” he said.

Ree fist-pumped in the air, and Drake’s smile dropped. “I can see you again.”

Ree slumped at the fail. “Balls. Okay, here’s what you do.”

She told the inventor her idea, and Drake obliged, pulling off his belt and offering one end to Ree so they wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd. After Ree had worked a cloak to cover both of them this time, they made their way into the dock area, dodging spirits of all shapes and sizes.

It’s like Grand Central Station by way of Hayao Miyazaki.

Some of the spirits were small, bouncing, flitting things that sparkled, making swooshing sounds as they zipped by. Others lumbered on the ground, each footfall striking a deep bass chord. Countless more were in-between, spiraling through the traffic, shuffling like busy commuters, or meandering like sullen teens in packs. Ree wended her way through the crowds, glad that getting jostled here and there didn’t bring down the cloaking spell.

They reached the base of one of the immense towers, and Ree felt a tug on the belt, leading her inside.
If our cover breaks in here, we’re toast. Worse than toast, we’re the crappy crumbs of carbon left at the bottom of a toaster oven that I haven’t cleaned out in three months.

The interior of the tower looked like an airport. Spirits stood in a series of lines with eight-feet-tall sentinels that looked like they were nothing but suits of armor prowling around between them, inspecting each being before waving it through.

Wishing she could just text Drake to coordinate, Ree scanned the room and followed his tugs, weaving around and through people, trying to stay as close as possible to keep some spirit from clotheslining itself on the belt, breaking the spell, and getting the two of them killed.

Through one round of security, she followed the belt into what must have been a large supply closet of some sort. The room was about twenty feet long and maybe eight feet wide. The shelves inside were lined with squishy-looking eggs that glowed like the Easter Bunny’s overstock. They were the only source of light in the room aside from the faint crack at the bottom of the door.

Ree let her hands drop, and the outline Drake appeared in front of her, his arms still crossed. She slumped into the shelf, which shook, eggs glorping into one another. Ree grimaced, hoping the sound wouldn’t escape the closet. Speaking in a whisper, she said, “Three things. One, this was stupid. Because two, we need a way to communicate while we’re cloaking it up. Three, what the hell is this room?”

Drake nodded, responding in a stage whisper. “First, you were the one who suggested we follow the Muse. Second, I do not know of a way for us to be able to signal each other besides the belt, lest we spoil our disguise. Third, this room contains the coordinate icons for a variety of locations. When spirits need to travel to nonstandard locations, one of the minor functionaries will retrieve the appropriate icon from such a room as this.”

“And how often does that happen?” she asked.

Ree heard a thrumming at the door, the same noise it had made when Drake opened it.

“More often than one might think, it appears.”

Ree scrambled toward the back of the room, hiding behind a two-high stack of crates. Half-forced by their belt, Drake joined her, huddled under a dozen meter-long metallic rods that leaned against the wall. He unclasped the belt and looped it around his waist again.

More light flooded into the room, then chirping. Some birdlike voice moved into the room. Ree heard the click of nails on tile, the steps getting closer.

There was the glorp of shuffling icons, then a chirrup that sounded like a question. The clicking got closer, and she heard short chirps and the sounds of the bird-thing’s footfalls. Then the sounds receded until she heard the door close again.

Ree peeked out from her hiding spot to check on Drake. “Did it see you?” she asked.

“I suppose not. The transport gates will be upstairs, so if the Muse is attempting to leave or summon assistance, we will find it there.”

“So we can get it?”

Drake slid out from under the rods and stood. “Yes. Assuming we can find a way to corner it alone, or care to fight through an entire waiting room of aggravated spirits, yes.”

Ree stood and looked at the shelves. “Is there anything we can do with these icons? Power spells, ransom them, or the like? We have to even the odds somehow.”

Drake’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I may be able to do something quite incredible.” He grabbed one of the icons off the shelf, pulled up his goggles, and held the icon to his nose. “Yes, indeed. Rather brilliant. Should have thought of it the last time I was in a conundrum like this. I would still have that fine cummerbund and would not have had to go shopping before last market—”

“I’m sorry, I’m shaky on my rambling Avalonian. What are you going to do?”

“With the correct adjustments, I should be able to set my rifle with the coordinates in the icon and use it to teleport the other spirits in the room, or the Muse itself.”

“I don’t want to teleport the Muse, I want to kill it.”

Drake removed a cylinder from his rifle and turned the icon in his hand, looking back and forth to the rifle. “Yes, just so. But if we can transport the other spirits in the room, we will be able to deal with the Muse directly.” He studied the icon with a serious expression. “Now, how are you going to fit into the focusing chamber, my dear little thing?”

Ree quirked an eyebrow. “You are a piece of work.”

“I am as the creator made me, I suppose, though on my own terms.” Drake winked and thumbed down a lever with a click. “That should suffice for now. I do not imagine I will get much more than one minute of functionality with this modification, so we will need another exit strategy.”

Ree scanned the shelves. “Can’t we just hop the tower-portal-whatever with one of these?” She waved at the icons. “Preferably not the same place we’ve just sent a bunch of spirits?”

Drake nodded, considering. “Perhaps, but it would be highly dangerous. The portals are not designed for mortal transport, and I will have to see if there is an icon here whose destination is close enough to our exit to be workable.” He started a slow walk down the aisle, checking the icons.