Inherited Magic (18 page)

Chapter 57

School had fallen by the wayside, and it upset John. At first, he thought it was just because that was the one place he could see Radha without looking like he was stalking her, but there was more. He missed the stimulation and the feeling that he was making progress with something that was real and that the rest of the world could know about. Not like magic, where he had to hide and puzzle through a dangerous world of knowledge by himself, with little or no guidance.

The boxing lessons were going to help him stay alive if the duel turned physical, which Conrad had told him they often do. In the afternoons, he hid out in the warehouse with The Book and slowly deciphered what he could.

His last encounter with it had left him with the ability to read the cryptic symbols etched into the metal plates. The meanings were also hidden in the patterns attached to them so only a mage who had been exposed to the final troubling message could read them. John knew he couldn't ignore that message or the story of Moloch forever, but he had to survive first. That meant making sense of the book and the knowledge it contained so that he had something to use, but it was never easy.

The Book literally contained thousands of pages. The key turned and opened new pages every time it was pushed a bit deeper. Like a screw slowly turning, it sank into the tiny space of the book’s pattern. There was a history of mages, but no explanation where magic came from or how it worked, but one line troubled him: “We are slaves freed to suffering and to be hunted by those we protect.” Was this more of the Moloch story, the message to protect against what he found, or something more?

There were also vast chapters on theory that John had a hard time following. They spoke in allegories that he didn't understand and had no frame of reference for: they were written from the standpoint of a society that had long ago vanished. The few bits he did grasp did nothing to expand what he knew or help him.

The last half of The Book was a collection of spells and the complicated explanations of them. The patterns were not themselves complicated at first, but they grew. There was a simple one on how to freeze water to ice in a flash and John had learned it from Owen, but it could be adjusted to get colder. So cold that it could condense vapor to liquid out of the air, but the colder it got the more complex the pattern got. Once the pattern was released, things started returning to normal so the ice would melt, and liquids evaporate again, unless another pattern was attached to keep them from warming again. This all had to be done in a specific way so to prevent explosions or broken patterns. The writer of The Book had been terrified of broken patterns, and the description matched exactly what John had discovered by accident. It amused him and at the same time terrified him because the writer indicated that once a pattern was broken that the chaos it created never really vanished.

Was there anything that wouldn't come back and haunt him at some point?

In the evening, he shadow boxed in the warehouse, tying in the patterns he had learned and experimenting with tricks and moves that he thought might keep him alive. There was a background thought, an undercurrent, to all that he did that kept him from submitting to the fear. It was like music from another room; he couldn't understand the words and heard only enough to tap his foot and keep time, but that was enough. He had not given up on Radha yet and as irrational as it seemed, he felt he still had a chance.

Chapter 58

He sat in the back of the sandwich shop across from Truman College; he wasn't wearing a disguise or dark sunglasses. There was no point. An FBI agent was parked across the street pretending to be playing with his cell phone while his partner was off running an “errand” in case John tried to evade them on foot. John had run through a number of emotions with them tailing him over the past couple of weeks, annoyance and amusement had faded to steady irritation. He turned his attention back to the school and the small courtyard filling with students. Radha walked out the front door with a small group of her friends. Again and again, he saw her and he was left feeling incomplete and empty without her. Was he turning into a stalker or just being sad and pathetic? Maybe he should ask one of the agents what they thought.

The pattern of one of Radha's friends had changed, and it took John a moment to realize she was pregnant. He doubted that she knew because she was holding a lighter to a cigarette. Radha looked disgusted and moved away from the small group, smiling and waving to them. She was walking towards the sandwich shop. Somehow, John wasn't surprised and couldn't even bring himself to think of a lie to tell her.

Radha came in, and either didn't see him or was better at pretending not to than John could have been. She ordered, paid, and waited for her sandwich. John tried to finish his own half-eaten sub and felt awkward looking out the window. He saw her reflection as she got her sandwich and watched her towards him.

“So are you stalking me now?” Her dark eyes were cool and he heard anger in her voice.

“No.”

“I suppose it would be hard to do while you were being followed.” She sat down across from him but made no move towards her sandwich. “John . . .”

“Can I try to explain?”

“No. I like you. I think you are nice enough, but I don't want to be involved with anything illegal.”

“I'm not a criminal.” John felt hurt and tried not to get defensive.

“Can you tell me what is going on?”

“No, not yet . . .”

“Are you in danger?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be able to protect me?”

“I already have.” John’s words shocked her and visibly set her back. “The day you broke up with me. Not more than five minutes later.”

“Someone was going to hurt me? Because we were dating?”

“Yes.” John had been proud of protecting her and now felt ashamed that he dragged her into it in the first place.

“Am I in danger now?”

“No. Things are complicated, but you're safe. I have to . . . face someone in a few weeks; or so and then it will be over.” John tried to hide the dread in his voice.

“Who do you have to face?”

“The woman who had Owen killed and tried to have you killed.”

“Don't tell me this isn't illegal, because it sounds like you are dealing with mobsters.” Her tone turned sharp, and she moved to stand.

“Radha, I'm not a criminal! I'm just . . . It's complicated.”

“I'm sure it is, John.” She stood up and walked away.

John looked at his half-eaten sub for a moment before swearing under his breath. He stood up, threw away what was left of his lunch, and headed for the door. Walking up the steps of the Wilson L stop, he couldn't help but notice how badly the agent following him stood out. Was that part of the plan? To show that he was under surveillance so no one would take a shot at him before the duel? Were they actually looking out for him, in their own screwed up way?

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number off the card in his wallet. She answered on the third ring.

“Hello, John. Have you changed your mind yet?” Of course, Agent Harris knew it was him calling.

“No.”

“You know Veronica has won three duels that we know of.” Her tone was matter of fact. “We never find a body though, nothing to bury; your mages clean everything up for her. Do I have to say that makes them accomplices to murder?”

“Are you married?”

“Not any of your concern.”

“Like hell. Are you married?”

“You trying to say something?” There was an edge to her voice that John had not heard before.

“Yeah.” John looked down on to the cars passing under the L. “You get in my life and crawl around, questioning and intimidating people I care about, and think that you have every right to get away with it because you are the FB-fucking-I.” A guy standing next to John caught the last bit, looked at him, and walked away quickly. “You think that because you follow a set of rules and someone gave you a badge that everyone else should follow those rules and be afraid of you.”

“You should be careful, John. You might need us someday.”

“No. You need me today. Otherwise, why all the heavy-handed scare tactics? Why scare my girlfriend?”

“We don't need you. There is nothing special about you. There are others—”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but I think you set your sights on me because I'm in a hard place and you can offer me protection.”

“God knows you need it, the way you keep screwing up.”

“Fuck you.” John fought down his anger. “When this is over, things are gonna change, and you won't like it.” John hit the red button on his phone, and it fell silent. He walked over to the agent following him, looked him in the eye, and said; “Fuck you, too.”

There was a tense moment where they only stared at each other that was unbroken till a Red Line train arrived.

Chapter 59

John had never seen time move so fast. Before it all had started, before Barb had left him, back when he was still blind to it all, days crawled by. He and Barb would spend weekends lying around their small apartment doing nothing; those days seemed to last years. He thought back to when he was kid waiting for his father to come home while the babysitter fixed him dinner; that had been an eternity.

Now it slipped past so fast.

Three days till the duel. Three days and he did not feel at all ready. True, working out in the gym had trimmed him down, and put him in better shape than he ever had been before; it had also removed his fear of getting punched. He had studied as much of the damned Book as he could and found nothing that was truly new in the first few chapters, not that he hadn't skipped ahead, but that proved even more frustrating. The spells were laid out in a specific way and each built upon the other in complexity. He had skipped ahead and tried a teleport spell and sent a cinder block to . . . Well, it was supposed to be across the room, but he never saw it again. So he kept a slow and steady pace through the book.

Three days to go. John felt like there should have been a red digital countdown on the wall somewhere. Instead, he was stuck with the tribesman watching him practice mixing boxing and magic. It didn't help that he was eating nachos; the smell of them made John think of a Mexican restaurant on Broadway that he loved.

What little remained of his concentration was ruined by a knock at the door. John opened it to find Conrad, followed, as always, by Eric. John briefly wondered if he would ever be able to afford goons of his own.

“How are you doing, John?” Conrad seemed excited.

“How am I supposed to be doing?” John walked back into the warehouse and left Eric to close the door behind Conrad.

“Ah, I had heard from my contacts in the FBI that you were developing an attitude with them. Don't think that I'll stand for you trying to tell me off.” Conrad chuckled. “Don't worry; your sparring with the FBI is amusing me and several of the other regents. Mostly Owen's old allies, but that makes them no less important.”

John had nothing to say.

“I don't get it though.” Eric chimed in. “Why push them? They can make your life miserable, even as a mage.”

“Because if I survive this, I am going to cut a deal with Agent Harris that her supervisors won't let her turn down.”

“Mages don't live long when they work for governments.” Conrad's mood soured sharply.

“Nope. They are gonna work for us.” John opened a bottle of water and took his time drinking. He liked having a plan and keeping others in the dark. “I am going to explain to them how messy it is to have mages fighting over territory and other bullshit. Then I am going to explain to them that I can convince the other mages here to play nice and get along if they help.”

“Help?”

“Yep. They are going to put the other mages under a microscope and make them squirm till they feel like I do. No one can take on the government and expect to win, so I will offer a solution. We form an alliance. No more territory, no more fighting over crumbs, and no more pressure. We organize and start working together.”

“You really want to die, don't you?” Eric was not even trying to hide his feelings.

“It has been tried before, John. It almost got Owen and me killed, and I don't think it will work any differently this time.” Conrad tapped the tip of his can on the floor. “These people don't want to change. They cling to the small power they have and won't share it. Nothing divided by nothing is less than nothing to them. The few of us who have actual resources don't want to share with sniveling neophytes.”

“They'll help if the government pressures them.” John paused for drama. “And, if you help.”

“If I help?”

“I can't very well run this. I'm not much more than a student and a problem that people want to go away.”

A long silence fell between the three of them.

“Conrad?” Eric looked at Conrad with growing concern. “Conrad?”

“He might be right, Eric.”

“Boss, you told me . . . Hell, you tell anyone who will listen that unifying the regents and changing things almost got you killed. What's different this time?”

“Time and the idea of a common threat that I assume won't really be a threat?”

“Right.” John was now into the part of his plan he had not thought out very clearly yet.

“So what are we to do in return for the government leaving us alone?” Eric looked skeptical.

“I hadn't gotten that far.” John admitted.

“You're a genius.” Eric's sarcasm was venomous. “A real artist at suicide.”

“Relax, Eric.” Conrad was slowly walking out into the center of the warehouse.

“Conrad . . .”

“He's right. The government needs to work for us for a change. Not only do they owe us for what we did in the war, but there is no limit to what we could do for them.” John was happy but shocked that he had won over Conrad so easily. “We wouldn't even have to do anything but hold natural disasters at bay or warn them of ones we couldn't control. How much would a few weeks warning of an earthquake be worth? Or a hurricane that hit but was much weaker than predicted?”

“I thought you couldn't—”

“Not by myself, but with a handful of experienced mages, things would be easy.” Conrad paused and looked into the middle distance, not seeing the warehouse but old dreams recovered.

“Conrad.” Eric hesitated. “I will follow you and protect you. I've proven my loyalty. Just this once though, I have to protest. This . . . student is gonna get us killed, and you should walk away.”

“I understand your concern, Eric.” Conrad's voice was soft and he paused before laughing softly. “It may not matter because young John here has to survive his duel anyways. If he gets killed, this won't matter.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” John’s mood was crushed from hopeful to realistic without good odds.

“Sorry, but it’s why we came here in the first place. We got a message from that charming young trollop, and she has set a place, so it is up to you to set the time.”

“Where?”

“She was brazen enough to name a park in the city; she must think she will kill you without much fuss. What was the name, Eric?”

“Winnimac Park.” Eric was consulting his smart phone for the exact details.

“In the middle of the city?” John had expected some deserted location in the countryside. “Well, I guess we have to go with midnight then. No, that might be too early still. How about two in the morning?”

“Damn night owls,” muttered Eric.

“Then there is the detail of witnesses you want to invite. As your sponsor, I have to be there, but you have to name at least one witness.”

John paused for a moment and smiled.

“You aren't gonna like this one. Neither will she, but that just makes it better. I want Special Agent Harris there.”

“Now you're just being an asshole!” Eric was shouting despite himself.

“No, planning ahead. If this thing gets crazy and does damage to the park or property—”

“We usually clean up after.” Conrad commented gently.

“Yeah, but she is gonna see firsthand how dangerous mages going at it can be for the general public.” John, after all, had no one else to name, but he didn't want to admit that to anyone, especially himself.

“You have proven reckless, and I think the FBI has a good idea what could happen.” Conrad said disapprovingly.

“But we—” John started.

“However!” said Conrad sternly. “It might be best to drive that point home. Knowing you, I'm sure you'll find a way. Shall we inform her?”