Unleashed (14 page)
Authors: John Levitt
He closed the book and knelt down on the floor where Victor was arranging items according to some criteria I couldn’t even guess at. My improvisational use of talent has served me well, but it was at times like this that I realized how little I know. And how useless I was in this type of endeavor.
The two of them discussed strategies. Victor wanted to grind up a few of the stones and incorporate them into a larger matrix. Eli thought that too dangerous and unpredictable; he wanted to use the stones themselves to form a template. Neither one asked for my opinion, which was just as well since I didn’t have one.
Finally Eli won out on that point. They took half the stones and arranged them in a rough circle, not much larger than it would take to contain a person. I wasn’t sure if half was all they needed or if they were saving the other half in case something went wrong. A layer of salt was poured out, snaking in and out between the stones, and each stone was dusted with a small amount of iron shavings.
Most of the folk knowledge about magical operations is laughably wrong, but there are two items that crop up in myth all the time: iron and salt. And those two are real. Salt is practically a universal substance in any ritual designed to bind something, and iron is almost as common. All metals, except silver and sometimes gold, are difficult to work with. But iron is by far the most difficult; it’s almost as resistant to talent as is an Ifrit.
Victor spoke a command and let energy flow into the circle. He didn’t need much; it was like lighting a match to a bonfire of kindling. Power welled up, strong and fierce. Eli took a step backward, and even Victor seemed slightly intimidated by what he’d done.
“Now the attraction spell,” said Victor. “Mason, I could use your help here.”
At last I felt useful. Eli knows more about the operation of magical constructs than anyone I know, but he personally has only a minor amount of intrinsic power to work with. It’s too bad; if he’d been able to combine his knowledge with Victor’s power, he would have been one of the most powerful practitioners on the planet. But maybe he wouldn’t have been Eli then.
Victor reached over for the battery, connected a length of copper wire to each terminal and the other end of the wires to one of the green stones.
“He’s making an electromagnet,” Eli explained, “or at least that’s what it would be if it were hooked up to a metal rod. Same principle, though.”
Victor took hold of one of the wires and gestured for me to take the other one.
“We don’t want to try pouring energy directly into the stone,” he said. “That could cause problems. When I speak the code word, just feed it into the wire and it will flow into the stone. Got it?”
I nodded and grasped the wire firmly. Victor had one hand on his wire and the other on the stone. “Attract,” he said, and I let loose with a surge. Then he took his hand off the stone, saying, “Release.” I dropped the wire, but as he spoke he released another small pulse of energy into the circle. I understood what he was trying to do—set up code words that would activate an attraction spell or release it on command. I wasn’t sure it would work, though.
“How are you going to isolate its effect?” I asked.
Victor reached over to the circle of stones, took one out, and rearranged the others so that a circle remained. He then reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a flashlight. A quick consultation with Eli, a drop of liquid from one of the bottles rubbed on the lens, and then a few words spoken while holding the rune stone up to the flashlight. When he turned it on, the flashlight beam passed right through the stone, casting a green light on the far wall.
Back to the desk drawer, this time for some duct tape. He neatly taped the stone onto the front of the flashlight, securing it in place.
“Very elegant,” I said, looking at the duct tape.
“It works,” he said, shortly. Eli looked over at Lou and Maggie, who had uncharacteristically been looking on with great interest.
“We should test it on one of them,” he said.
“Why them?” I asked.
“Because Ifrits, as you well know, are immune to all sorts of magical compulsions. Aversion spells mean nothing to them. If this works on them, it will work on anything, even our tree-dwelling friend. It won’t hurt them any.” Victor looked a question at me.
“Why not?” I said. I pointed over to where Lou and Maggie were sitting. Maggie took one look at me and stalked over to the other side of the room. She was having no part of it. “Lou. We’re going to try something. If you feel a pull, resist. Fight it.”
He licked his lips nervously, but didn’t make any other protest. Trying to prove he was braver than a mere cat, perhaps. Eli nodded and Victor said, “Attract.” The runes around the circle flashed once. The he turned on the flashlight and played the beam of green light over Lou’s body. Lou stiffened, then started walking stiffly toward the circle. It wasn’t like what the Wendigo had done to me; this was more of a physical compulsion and Lou was fighting it all the way. He twisted his head around to look at me, either in supplication or disgust, but his steps didn’t slow for a moment. Seconds later he was inside the circle, and Victor turned off the flashlight.
“Can you get out?” I said to him.
He circled the perimeter once and sat down in the middle of the circle. He wasn’t even going to try.
“So far, so good,” said Victor, and he released the power flowing through the circle.
Lou trotted out, ignored my outstretched hand, and joined Maggie on the other side of the room. Showing that he preferred even her company to mine at the moment was his way of letting me know he was seriously pissed.
“Now you,” Victor said to me.
“Me? Why not you?”
“I need to check for possible flaws.”
After offering up Lou as a guinea pig I could hardly say no. I shrugged and walked into the center of the circle. When Victor activated it, I understood why Lou hadn’t even attempted to get out. I’d expected lines of force, or even a dome of energy blocking any escape, but nothing like this. It was like being locked in a bank vault with nothing but a butter knife to pry the door open. No magical energy could escape, either, and hopefully that would include the seductive power of the Wendigo’s voice.
Sheer force wasn’t going to do the job, but that’s not the way I handle things anyway. I probed for weaknesses, but there weren’t any. Those stones held immense power, and Victor had been his careful self in crafting it. There was no way out. Except, there’s almost always a way around things if you’re clever enough. Sheer force isn’t everything, and there was one weakness Victor hadn’t thought of. The circle couldn’t be affected from the inside, but what about from the outside? I signaled to Lou, who was still sulking on the other side of the room.
“I need some help,” I said. He looked at me sourly. “Bacon for breakfast tomorrow?” His ears perked up. When all else fails, bribery is usually a viable option with him. He stood up alertly, awaiting instructions.
“The circle. The stones. Grab one, pull it away.”
Victor turned to intercept him. But it was too late. Lou ducked around him, grabbed the nearest stone, and tossed it aside with a quick flick of his head, as if he were killing a rat. The circle was broken, and an opening appeared in the space the stone had occupied, just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I stepped out of the circle and tapped Victor on the shoulder.
“You’re it,” I said. “Or maybe, you’re dead.”
He started to say something, probably along the lines of accusing me of cheating, then realized how lame that would sound. Instead, he gave a reluctant nod.
“Good catch,” he said, grudgingly.” We’ll have to be alert for outside interference—we don’t know what else may be out there. Now all we have to do is figure out where our Wendigo might be.” He paused, remembering. “Did you have any luck with your psychic?”
“I’m afraid not. Something about the Golden Gate Bridge, and dusk; that’s about it. What are we going to do, set up the trap out by Baker Beach until it makes an appearance? And not to be difficult, but how are you going to tempt it to come to where you’ve set up the trap, anyway? What if it shows up a couple of miles away from the circle?”
“We’re not going to set it up beforehand,” Eli said. “We don’t have to. All the hard work has already been done. When—if we locate the Wendigo, we’ll set up the circle—it shouldn’t take more than a minute or so. But we can’t depend on finding it. What we need is some way to attract it to us.” Victor suddenly sat up straight.
“The shotgun,” he said. “Have you cleaned it yet?” My God, the man could be anal.
“Haven’t got around to it yet,” I said. “I was going to do it this morning, but I thought building this trap might be a tad more important.”
“No, no,” said Victor impatiently. “The residue in the barrel. We can use the residue if you haven’t cleaned it yet.”
“I don’t see it,” Eli said. “The powder has no connection to the creature.”
“Yes, but the barrel isn’t just fouled with powder residue. It also contains traces of the lead pellets which passed through it—a tiny bit of the lead sloughs off each time it’s fired.”
“Ah,” said Eli. “And those same pellets struck the Wendigo. Creating a connection between the lead pellets that hit the Wendigo and the lead residue they left in the barrel. Very good, Victor.”
“Unless you missed it,” Victor said to me. “Are you sure you hit it?”
“I’m sure,” I said. “It’s hard to miss something at that distance with a shotgun. And I fired four shots. I damn sure didn’t miss with all of them.”
“Excellent,” Eli said, rubbing his hands together. “Admittedly, the connection is weak, but I think we can work with it.”
Most magical operations are simply about utilizing talent to redirect and transform energy—everything from simple illusions to complex spells involving time and space. But there are some constants that help to enable such spells. The principle of similarity, for example. Using nearby water to effect fluid changes, or rock to draw energy for a protective shield, or the emotions of hate and fear to fashion a killing spell.
Or the rule of contagion—things once part of a whole but which are then separated retain an affinity for each other—like the shotgun pellets leaving part of themselves as lead residue an the rest of them striking the Wendigo.
I brought the shotgun in from my van and broke out the cleaning kit. Twenty minutes later I had a collection of cotton patches, damp with solvent, the first one black with fouling and each subsequent one progressively lighter. While I pushed the patches through the bore, Victor was busy pulling out additional magical tools from the safe.
“What do you think?” he asked Eli.
“A paste, a salve would be best, I think. We can apply it to Mason, and that should attract the Wendigo to him.” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“So not only am I the sacrificial goat, staked out to tempt the tiger, but I’m basically going to have hamburger rubbed all over my body? Why not just pour a bottle of steak sauce over my head and be done with it?”
“If we have to,” Victor said.
“If you’re going to be making up a magical potion, maybe we should give Campbell a call. No offense, but she’s really better at that sort of thing.” And at least that way, I could be sure whatever it was Victor came up with wouldn’t cause me to break out in boils.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Eli said. “Why don’t you call her, Mason?”
So I did, and after being filled in on everything, she was eager to come down. I spent the next few hours doing a magical refresher course with Eli. I’d been lazy of late, not keeping up with even the basics. I wouldn’t dream of playing an important gig without some practice time, and the same principles apply in magic. And we would be playing a very important gig indeed if this worked.
We went over the basics—like how to utilize talent in the most efficient manner so you don’t exhaust yourself in the first minute. How to narrow focus, like a lens, and not spray energy all over the place. The less talent you use to produce an effect, the more energy you have in reserve for the inevitable unforeseen circumstances.
Then a run-through on which materials work best for implementing which spells. You can use anything for anything, but some things are easier to work with than others, and again there’s no point in wasting valuable energy. Metals are hard to use; living things easy, since they have their own energy. But even with metals, there are degrees. Silver and moonlight go together like bread and butter. Copper is very useful for specific types of work, and iron, of course, is almost impervious to magical talent. But that makes it ideal for defense.
And finally, concentration exercises. I used some talent to keep a tennis ball suspended precisely twelve inches off the floor while Eli asked me a series of increasingly difficult questions. The ability to concentrate on more than one thing at once is crucial to magical operations.
Lou had turned these sessions into a favorite game. As I tried to answer Eli’s questions and keep the ball steady, he would harass me. Sometimes it was mock attacks; sometimes he even nipped me unexpectedly. Or he’d do back-flips, each time almost landing on his head, distracting me with worry. I did pretty well this time until Maggie threw herself on the back of my neck. The tennis ball dropped as I lost concentration. Eli frowned, but I thought I’d done pretty well by simply not jumping up with a scream. Maggie bounced off and retreated across the room, tail waving. Cat humor.
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