Wilder Mage (17 page)

“It is way cool having a wizard for a friend,” Bert said.

“Not a wizard,” Justus muttered. His teeth ground together.

“Don’t matter what you call yourself, dude,” Bert said and laughed. “It has got to be trippin’ to be able to do that.” He paused, as if hoping for an encore, and then sighed. “Look, there is one thing I’ve wanted to know.”

Justus shrugged and waited. For Bert to ask a question about his talent was like a fish swimming. He couldn’t help it.

“Couldn’t you like touch these hunters, or whoever they send, with your spirit mojo, jujitsu stuff? Make them forget or give up or something?” Bert asked.

“No,” Justus said shortly. “Spirit is a terrible element, something that shouldn’t be used at all.”

“But you used it on Maggie’s record thief.”

“Victrola,” Justus said.

“Whatever. That old stuff. Pre-tech.”

It wasn’t worth the effort it took to educate a kid born after the introduction of the Internet about the great inventions of the early twentieth century. A kid who had no knowledge of rotary phones and dollar gas would not understand room-sized computers and nine-inch screen TVs.

“Yeah, I did use Spirit. But that was the only time in years that I’ve used it at all. And it was only because they were so devastated when that kid took it. All I did to the kid was to give him the
absolute
knowledge of the hurt he’d caused in stealing. Spirit isn’t something to be used lightly.”

“What does it do?”

Justus took a breath to gather his thoughts. “Changes a mind, creates a riot, makes someone do something they had no intention of doing. Like apologize to an old couple. Or…” He grinned at Bert, who was beginning to look impressed. “Or make your folks vote the straight Republican ticket in the next election.”

Bert chuckled. “That would be something.” He tugged at his bottom lip with two fingers. “What with politics like it is, some of the crazy shi—”

Justus narrowed his eyes at him.

“—crap going on in the world,” Bert continued smoothly. It makes you wonder, don’t it, the politicians saying one thing and then doing another.”

Justus was silent. “Maybe,” he said thoughtfully. Then he shrugged. “And besides, I can’t use it without taking this off.” He tugged on the black chain around his neck.

“Spirit, you mean? You can’t use Spirit?”

“No,” Justus said. “The stone won’t let me touch it while I’m wearing it. I haven’t taken it off but a few times to use Spirit, and then only for small things like the McIntyres’ thief.”

“Why not use it? I mean, except for getting caught, why don’t you use Spirit more?”

Bert’s question stopped Justus and he paused. “It has a strange feel to it,” he said slowly, almost reluctantly. “It doesn’t feel like the other elements.”

“You mean all sparkly,” Bert said, a smile threatening to break out.

Justus smiled without answering.

Bert flipped his hand at the pendant. “Your dad gave that to you before he died, right? Reckon he knew about you then?”

Justus looked down at the pendant. “He must have,” he said softly. “Why else would he give me something specifically designed for my abilities?”

The teenager looked across the shop to the closed door leading to the sidewalk. Several people were laughing, strolling by the shop, and two had stopped to look at Sable’s display of crystal sun catchers in the window.

“Reckon your mom knows?” Bert said quietly.

Justus shook his head. “I don’t know. She never hinted one way or the other. And I like it that way.” He didn’t say the rest of his feelings, his desperate wish that the Imperium and their savage disciplines would never find her.

The couple gestured and marveled at the crystals.

“Hey, I got another question,” Bert said. “What set the girl off?”

“Huh?”

“I mean Sable. What set off the fireworks?”

Justus stirred uncomfortably. “I, uh, I kissed her.”

Bert whipped around to stare at him, his eyes as wide as his sudden grin.

“Dude!”

“Pipe down, idiot,” Justus said, his voice low.

“Impressive,” Bert said, still grinning. The couple moved from the window and opened the front door to the shop. “So how was it? Like I can’t guess, what with the bottle rockets going off and all.”

“It was, um, stimulating,” Justus said, and he walked forward to greet the couple.

He ignored Bert, who was chuckling behind him.

Bert went home soon after the shop closed for the day, but not before making pointed comments and laughing at extremely inappropriate times. “See ya later,” he said, blowing Justus a big kiss. “You big hunk of burning love, you.”

Then he ducked out hurriedly as Justus reared back to pitch a fist-sized ball of Fire at him. Justus could hear Bert chortling as he trotted away.

He sorted through some papers and antique magazines, shut off the computer, and straightened a display of doilies. His eye caught the small dragon figurine.

Really, he should give it to her soon, before things got too crazy and someone from the Imperium showed up. Life would not be the same for any of them if he had to face them. He should make plans to leave soon, go on a faraway buying trip. He remembered one magazine article, an announcement of an antique fair in a Washington county near Seattle, featuring furniture and enameled boxes, and a collection of copper, figurines, cooking utensils, and Early American wear. So that was it, his excuse to leave for a while. Go on a shopping trip, one that would take a long time.

He noticed the pain in his right hand and relaxed the hard fist he had made.

Tonight, he would go see them and begin his plausible story, his exit strategy. The phone was in his hand before he could change his mind.

“Hello. McIntyre residence.”

Justus forced his teeth to unclench. “Hey, Sable, are Maggie and Emmett home tonight?”

“Yeah, they’re home. I think they’re out back. Did you want me to get them?” she said. Her voice, after the initial pleasant tone, could break a rock.

“No. I’m coming out. Let them know, would you, please?”

“Of course. Bye.” And he heard the phone go dead.

Yeah, she was still pissed.

Twenty minutes later, the small dragon sat on the McIntyres’ coffee table and he was rubbing one finger under Zephyr’s chin. Her deep blue eyes closed in bliss, the strand of yarn he had been holding still between her teeth. He subtly tugged the maroon yarn, trying to sneak it from her, but one eye slivered open and a paw came up to yank it away. Tail straight up, she stalked away with as much dignity as a half-grown kitten could muster with its rear end tangled in yarn.

Justus had called his mom before he left the shop and explained his upcoming trip to her. She seemed happy enough, but didn’t ask questions. She seemed to accept his decision to leave for a few days. Sometimes, he wondered if she had some memory problems. She seemed so vague sometimes. He resolved to call her more often.

“So Seattle, huh?” Maggie said. She held the notice advertising the auction, her forehead wrinkled into furrows.

“Yep. Going on a road trip. I should be back in, oh, a couple weeks.” He rolled onto his side and twisted his fingers into the long loops of the ancient rug. Who had shag carpeting anymore? “I’ll hit the other place I heard about in that region. Get it all done at once.”

He heard the snort to his right, but ignored it. He kept his eyes on the rug. “I might take a little vacation. Might as well see the sights while I’m out there,” he said.

This time, Sable remained quiet, but he was very aware of her. He struggled to keep from looking for her reaction. Even glancing at her was enough to start the
tener unus
magic cooking again, and he had proven his lack of will power in that area. Where was his ward stone when he needed the shield magic? It had never failed him before. He dug his fingers into the carpet and tried to think of anything else. But he was weak. He lost the epic inner battle.

He looked up.

Yes, she was glaring at him, suspicious. Her mouth mashed into a hard line, and he wondered what she was thinking. Still mad? Doubting him? Ready to smack him? For a moment, he wanted to find out, test her resolve. But he savagely killed that feeling.

Justus stood up, stretched, and noted the darkening windows. The streetlights were beginning to come on. Evening had snuck up while he was playing with the kitten, and it was time to set things in motion. No matter what.

Emmett sat to one side, looking out the same windows. The older man had seemed distracted all evening. And most of the week since he had rushed home following that phone call. Maggie eyed her husband with a worried frown.

“I don’t want to interfere, but isn’t it about time you let me in on the big secret?” When no one answered, he continued. “That phone call you got, is there still a problem? Anything I can do to help before I go?”

Emmett shook his head. “No, not really. We heard from a relative wanting to get back into our lives. It’s been…unnerving to have a voice from the past ask for a favor.”

Maggie gave an irritated sound. “Oh, go ahead and tell him, Emmett. It’s not going to matter in the long run.”

Emmett looked at Maggie, then shrugged. Something in his face told Justus the two had discussed the matter at length already.

“It’s our nephew,” he blurted. “We haven’t seen him in a long time, and he wanted to ‘touch base,’ he said, talk to his auntie. It’s just that…” Emmett scrubbed his face with one callused hand, his stubbly chin sounding like sandpaper. “We haven’t heard from him since he asked for a loan, then skipped out. I figure he wants more dough, wants something, and it ain’t to mend fences. Now, I don’t know, I just don’t think we should let him get too close is all. But Maggie here…”

He stopped and looked at his wife fondly, a small smile on his face. He reached out and carefully took one of the gnarled hands and stroked it gently. “She thinks we should see him and give him a chance, to explain, at the least.”

“He’s family,” Maggie said simply. She smiled back at Emmett. “His folks, my brother and his wife, passed on several years ago, and we’re all he has.”

“And all he’s likely to get,” Emmett muttered.

“Ah, well, maybe things have changed. Maybe he has seen the light and is ready to make amends. Who knows?” Justus said.

Emmett lifted one dubious eyebrow.

The hall clock took that moment to issue a muffled chime, and Justus realized the evening was getting away from him. Visiting his friends always did that to him, made him forget about the passage of time. The McIntyres sat close together with their foreheads nearly touching, oblivious to their surroundings.

He glanced at Sable. Her wistful expression as she watched the older couple brought a well of sadness up into his consciousness; the absolute knowledge that, no matter what, he and Sable could never be free of the Imperium to live their days like the McIntyres. He tightened his mouth with that dangerous thought and stood.

It drew their eyes and broke the moment between the older couple. They began picking up the glasses, coffee cups, and Zephyr’s toys, badgering and teasing each other as they did. The obvious love they had for each other was something he would miss, and he was reluctant to let it end.

Maybe a few more days wouldn’t hurt. Maybe a week, even. He could stay that long. Just one more week. He hadn’t heard or felt anything from the Imperium since the hunters left. Maybe they weren’t watching for Sable or her signature after all.

Then he caught Sable staring at him, her eyes no longer angry, but confused. As if she was trying to work out a puzzle that eluded her. And he was the puzzle.

“Think I’ll take a turn in the garden, get a little fresh air,” Justus said.

And work a little magic while they were preoccupied.

Justus stepped through the back door and sat on a wrought iron bench. It cast a mottled shape on the flagstone patio, a pattern of moonlight through the metal. Many weeks ago, he had worked a bit of warding into the metal of the bench to keep Sable hidden from the hunters. Before he left for the west coast, he would refresh the Earth element to keep her safe, at least for a while.

After forming the guardian bubble around him, he carefully gathered the energies of the metal and ground from beneath the bench and, using his will, infused it with a covering spell. He started to drop the cover over the bench, when the kitchen door banged shut behind him and the bubble broke as Sable walked into it. The energies collapsed and disappeared.

He sighed and looked innocently at the waning moon.

“What’s going on?” she asked, a touch of anger in her voice.

“What?” Justus asked, startled. “What do you mean?”

“You damn well know what I mean.” The tone in her voice had an angry, suspicious sound. She stood looking down at him, the moonlight on one side of her face, the other side in shadow.

A small, kitten-shaped form jumped up to sit beside him. Zephyr looked at Sable, then back at Justus, almost as if watching a tennis match.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know.” Justus stood and tried to concentrate. The shape of her mouth, the shadows under her soft cheekbones, and the glint in her eyes were distracting him. “I am leaving. End of story.”