Orphan At The Edge Of The World 110 Crawling Chaos 8

Orison began explaining. "Alright. The first thing you need to know is that the secret societies actually serve a major function. Out of all the questionable and arguably evil things they might do, the one good thing they do is pretty important. Within their territories, they are expected to monitor and police all supernatural events. By who? The other societies.

"This is where things get scary. There are places not protected. They can't be because 'others' have claimed them. By others, I mean things that aren't human or at least they aren't anymore.

"Your missing persons request is in one of those places. Now, I know it sounds like garbage. People come in and out of there all the time and it doesn't seem like anyone's affected much less in danger but that's not true. I checked the census. 'The war' has been over for nearly two years. When most places are seeing a population boom or a slight drop of maybe one or two percent, the county where your case is saw a decline of over ten percent within two years. Dartmouth, the town where your missing person was last seen, I would lay money that it's percentage is greatly higher than the county average and that's downright terrifying if true."

Neil shook his head. "I can't wrap my mind around it. Sunny side is, you've given me something easy enough to verify. Let's say your not just blowing smoke, how do we make it so we don't end up like the rest?"

Orison continued, "Up til now, I've been hesitant to add a handgun to your repertoire. It just seemed more troublesome than problem solving. First thing tomorrow, we're going to the Sliver Bullet gun shop and getting you a .45 with three clips of ammunition and we're getting those in silver casing. I don't know how much better that is but it's something.

"After that, we're going to Rose Cliff and touring some places that might get you rolling your eyes but look at it like this. If it doesn't hurt, the worst case is that it doesn't help. No harm done but a little wasted cash and it's coming out of my pocket."

A little disappointed, Neil said, "That's all you got?"

Orison said, "No. I'm going to be glued to your side like white on rice. Go nowhere alone. I don't care if it's a G.o.ddess among mortals, no going off alone and no taking offered consumables of any kind. If someone won't talk with you unless you go somewhere private with them, consider it a trap.

"We bring all of our own food and drinks. Bathroom breaks are together and only in public restrooms. We're out before nightfall. Try not to even so much as touch something unless it's absolutely necessary."

Although some of the things Orison said made Neil uneasy, he didn't argue. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me not to go or why I'm willing to."

Orison said, "The first would put me on a hunt list and I doubt good things would be waiting for you, either. As for the second, it matters but if you wanted me to know, I figured you'd tell me. If you didn't, what would be the point of asking?"

Neil looked like he struggled with something before he said, "The dame that was here, she's the sister of our missing person. She's not one of Mr. Carter's people, either. After... the promises I made, I need to try. Even if it's dangerous, I need to give it my best. If I don't, then I did something bad, something unforgivable."

The young mage sighed. "Put the right bait down and the prey will jump in the trap even when they know it's one. She was your bait and you were mine... Don't be a creep, Neil. I feel responsible. I'm not looking at you with anything other than the eyes of a physician and a friend."

Neil laughed off the odd look he gave the teenager but still walked to his room for an unders.h.i.+rt and sleep pants. "It's cooled off pretty nice in here."

Orison responded dryly, "If I'd have known that's all it would take to get you to stop streaking around, I'd have made a lame pa.s.s at you weeks ago."

Neil smirked and said, "If you had made a lame pa.s.s at me weeks ago, I'd have tossed you out on your ears... Then again, you were throwing some serious doe around and I was feeling pretty low. You might have missed your only shot, kid."

Orison rolled his eyes, "As much as I'd like to rip apart your laughable attempt at indirect self praise at my expense, UNCLE Neil, it did make me think of something important. Should we set an hour aside for you to do some target practice? Please tell me you've already logged SOME time on a firing range."

The detective shrugged. "Two years ain't that long. It's like riding a bicycle. Not a bad idea to get acquainted with a new partner, though."

Orison tested the steadiness of Neil's hand and gave him an informal eye exam. "There's still a light tremor in your fingers that a few herbal drinks and healing can't easily fix. You also have a a touch of astigmatism. Not a big deal but enough to matter."

After spending another few minutes discussing plans, Neil admitted being too wound up to sleep. Orison took another few minutes to set up the makes.h.i.+ft air conditioner in Neil's room and made the man a light sedative. Returning to his own room, the young mage spent some time going over the plan, unable to be satisfied. It was pointless trying to predict the unknown.

As busy as he had made himself through the night, Orison was rousing from trance as Neil b.u.mbled around the kitchen. Walking in, Orison noted in half amus.e.m.e.nt and annoyance that Neil was back to boxers. He couldn't say much. The young mage knew if he was running around in a home he could truly call his own, the release of repressed exhibitionist ambivalence would make Neil's devil may care att.i.tude look tame in comparison.

"Here, I got something for you," Orison said as he handed Neil a set of black underclothes.

Looking at them dubiously, Neil said, "At a glance, I can tell this isn't you trying to give me the heebie-jeebies. What's the skinny on them?"

Looking at them proudly, Orison said, "Carbon enhanced clothing. All the breathable, stretchy, moisture wicking comfort you could ask with but burn and cut resistance. Due to a little unavoidable quirk of production, it's magically locked too but I don't really think that does much of anything since it doesn't have a hinged opening anywhere. The barn door on the bottom part clicks together like it has magnets in it. I think that's kind of neat.

"There's also a thing that looks like a handkerchief with a floppy beak on it. Remove the adhesive backing and it will seal over your face and nose as long as you keep clean shaven. There's an ampule pack in the 'beak' that'll give you breathable air for a couple of minutes after you break the top off. Just remember to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Point your head down if you're trying to breathe in while underwater."

There was nearly a childlike glee to Neil's face as he looked at the 'emergency handkerchief gas mask'.

Orison thought to himself, "Ah, so that's why he looked so disappointed with the preparations last night. He was hoping for some neat gadgets. Sorry buddy, my applied science isn't that strong. I can kind of understand why though, all the fantasy/science fiction writing of this era is pretty prop heavy. When he heard 'supernatural', he thought weird gizmos."

Looking put out, Orison said, "Why are you fiddling so much with the face mask? I literally shaved a year off my life to make those undergarments. It's temporary but still..."

Seeing Neil's continued unenthusiastic response and halfhearted thanks before fiddling with the mask again, Orison took a kitchen knife out and turned the stove burner on. With a sudden downward thrust, poked a half inch of the blade into the table where the s.h.i.+rt lay. After removing the knife, Orison showed that there was only some scuff and a small stretch mark where the knife struck.

Throwing the s.h.i.+rt on top of the burner, Orison said, "Put your hand on it."

Tentatively at first, then with a little more enthusiasm, Neil patted the s.h.i.+rt. Orison cast a presto and mend on it before tossing the s.h.i.+rt back with the underwear. Neil answered Orison's expectant look with the overenthusiastic praise that a dad would give a child over an ugly tie at Father's Day. It wasn't that Neil didn't get the use. It just wasn't that 'thrilling'.

Grouchily, Orison said, "Well, it's part of the uniform. We should get moving to the gun store soon and try to get through Rose Cliff before noon if you want to log any investigation time today."

The young mage stomped off to go make a grocery store run while Neil got ready. Little did he know, Neil spent almost a minute playing with the 'magnetic' fly on the shorts with a goofy smile. Just as well since he wouldn't have known whether to laugh or cry.

An hour later, detective and mage were done with Silver Bullet gun shop, nearly a half hour ahead of schedule. Perhaps it was because of how they met but Orison found that he underestimated Neil frequently. The man knew exactly what he needed and what questions to ask while he was getting it. Less than a clip of ammo wasted and he was shooting a grouping tighter than a dime at forty feet, a silver dollar at fifty. Before he'd finished off the third clip, those groupings were exactly where he wanted them to be.

On their way to Rose Cliff, the two ruminated over the string of corny werewolf jokes the surprisingly nice old man at the gun shop told them after their large purchase of silver casing bullets that usually sold seven or less at a time. Neil followed that up with some stories of his better times at the academy and the nephew of the previous mayor who cost him his future as a police detective not but a month out of the gate. He didn't seem overly bitter about it but he'd had three years of self pity to attest how bad it had once been.

"It was love at first sight with that Swiss 9mm. Why did you give up your Luger so early in? By your own story, there was still savings in your bank account towards the end of year one," Orison said.

Neil shrugged a little strangely as he adjusted to the presence of a shoulder holster again. " For much the same reason you stated last night. It was more trouble than it solved. As a civilian detective there wasn't really a need for me to be armed and I had a lot better chance of living without it than with it. Sure, I probably took a few extra knuckle sandwiches than I would have but I'd rather that than a gun fight. You don't stand back up and dust those off.

"Moving forward, I don't feel the same. Before the hocus pocus, I was already thinking about this new batch of wise guys and how the streets were turning b.l.o.o.d.y whether you were walking chin up or down. These new street toughs don't play by old rules. If they got a gun they'll shoot first and ask questions later. I don't doubt not a single one of them's gonna see a gray hair before they push daisies but that ain't much comfort for the one's they put in the ground before they buy the farm."

Pa.s.sing the city limit sign for Rose Cliff, Orison felt like they drove through a thin film of mola.s.ses. With spirit sight, the young mage saw how a bit of that stickiness seemed to cling to his daggers and Neil's new sidearm.

A bit worried, Orison said, "Neil, pull the car over. We need to stow our weapons away."

Puzzled, Neil complied and looked a little forlorn as Orison stashed the gun and his two daggers in the glove box before hitting it with a magic lock that caused the glove box to s.h.i.+mmer for a moment. The young mage let out a shaky breath as he felt a faint ominous presence disappear as if it never was.

Projecting a little belligerence, Neil asked, "What's the big idea?"

Solemnly, Orison said, "We are in one of the biggest, strangest magic circles I have ever seen or felt. Whatever presence that monitors it doesn't like guns or enchanted daggers."

Neil said, "Well, I ain't heard of anybody being shot or stabbed in Rose Cliff. Doesn't seem like such a bad thing, I guess."

Orison said, "Quick lesson on magic circles. The person who makes it, sets the rules and can add all kinds of exceptions. A person who enters it, consents to its rules whether they are aware or not, whether those rules are fair or not. They can be a trap, protection or serve some utility purpose... This one is all three and it's powerful.

"I can't see much but an invisible friend, so to speak, can sense the big rules. Don't intentionally hurt anything. If it's accidental, don't admit you hurt anything and play dumb. Don't insult and most definitely don't hurt a woman. Even if she's being... cruel, turn the other cheek, seriously... d.a.m.n. Alright, we're leaving the car here and walking the last bit. It'll burn a little time but there's a trap that makes every person that comes into their town in a car, break a rule.

"This is pretty much just paranoia of falling under their power by breaking a rule. I imagine it's relatively harmless to most but as soon as you do, they CAN mess with you. It doesn't mean they will but I don't like it."

Neil grumbled and Orison warned him to be careful how he worded things.

Every several yards in, the young mage was throwing out another thing for Neil to pay attention to. There were triple moon etchings on the sidewalk not to step on. There were elder tree branches that had to be walked around instead of moved out of the way to keep a hidden tea candle lantern from scorching a leaf or twig. Eventually, their path to the botanical they were aiming for took a turn into a comical maze run. Other casual visitors were looking at them oddly and Neil started feeling self conscious about it. "Do we really have to do this? People are giving us funny looks."

Orison was smiling, enjoying the challenge. "Think of it as a fair game. If we break a rule then so be it but I want to see how long I can last. We don't have to but look at it from another angle. Isn't it kind of like a challenge of whit and skill? Sometimes it's just more fun to play along.

"I'm pretty sure about one thing. It really isn't meant maliciously. It's just kind of a necessity to be able to handle people who come with less than honorable intentions. The ent.i.ty that watches over it all is actually amused by our 'following of the rules' and it already doesn't see us as a threat."

Somewhat with the mentality of humoring a child, Neil followed along, trying his best to 'follow the rules'. What he didn't know is that Orison wasn't just following them, he was bending them, finding loopholes and jumping parts. He was finding ways to circ.u.mvent and subvert them. Doing so was having some strange empowering effect on his fey heritage. Unknowingly, a bit of his glamour leaked out and infected Neil with a sense of childlike amus.e.m.e.nt at it all. Underneath the complex, nearly impossible set of complex rules was a deeper set of old ones. With Herne's guidance, Orison started seeing a spiral pattern.

It had only been danced by women for a long time. It was out of balance. Invisible Herne, Orison and Neil where following the masculine portion that had weakened and threatened to enfeeble the powerful ward. Even as they defied the witches authority, they were aiding them, enriching the protection of the old magic circle.

By the time that they had reached a hidden eastern entrance to the botanical, Neil had technically lost but had 'contributed' enough to the circle's empowerment that his infraction was forgiven. Were it not for Herne 'sacrificing' himself to lift Orison over an impa.s.sable rule trap at one point, none of them would have actually 'won' the self made challenge.

Breathing heavily, Neil said, "What we did wasn't THAT hard. Why do I feel like I just ran a marathon while juggling bowling b.a.l.l.s?"

Still a little 'high' from his spiritual blood being stimulated, Orison replied airily, "You just helped recreate all of existence. How easy do you expect that to be?"

Neil looked at the teenager like he'd grown a second head but Orison was more keen on the formal ending. Reaching out to touch the door, his euphoria came to a sudden cras.h.i.+ng halt as it opened and the built up mysterious energy he was carrying from all three of them rushed in. His vision darkened. All seemed lost to the void. As a person who had died, more than once even, he was no stranger to the sensation.

Whatever Orison had been expecting to lay at the end of his fun romp, it hadn't been something so dire. The only thing left to understand was if he was dying or already dead. His conscious mind was too blotted out to tell.