Imperative

P. A. Wilson Imperative

Chapter One

I couldn’t wait to try the spell until I got to Bank’s. It was my first level five and I needed to read it more than I needed a pint of ale. The street lights were the only illumination and half of them were smashed, so I felt a sufficient level of privacy. I stepped into the shadow of a doorway and unfolded the half sheet of paper.

On a dark moon night, before Venus descends…

I stopped reading because I felt a twinge of guilt. Cate was waiting at Bank’s and I promised I’d read it with her. I folded the paper and jammed it back in my pocket.

I headed toward Blood Alley, Bank’s current location, thinking about how we should use the spell. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a fairy talking to a human. My attention twisted away to follow the sound and dragged my body with it. I made an effort to be casual about it but there was no one on the street to notice so I didn’t try too hard.

I slipped into a doorway next to Trounce Alley and leaned to peek into the darkness. A flower fairy, Lily Clan I think, was leading a human woman into the shadows of an alley. The fairy had cast a glamour, and I could see the shimmer, but I couldn’t see what he was projecting because of the shadows. The woman was gazing up at what she must have seen as his face, about three feet higher than where the top of his head really was.

When they were a few feet in and just past a dumpster, the fairy offered a glass vial; the woman knocked the contents back like a shot of tequila. I stepped into the alley keeping to the wall curious about what was going on. I noticed a tall shape lingering in the shadows at the other end. My attention came back to the woman. She collapsed on the ground her back arching, a keening escaping her throat. I started to step forward, hoping I could help. Then, knowing it was too late, I retreated to the shadows.

The fairy stood watching, then reached into his bag and retrieved a jug. He looked at the shadowy figure who nodded and gestured toward the woman. I saw the human’s spirit rise, the lavender mist unmistakable. The fairy captured the spirit in the jug, careful to gather every wisp.

What the hell was going on?

I leaned against the brick wall. Now more than ever I needed to keep out of sight of the other two. The keening faded and the woman gave a gurgle as the last trace of her spirit escaped her body. I watched as the fairy placed a cloth over the top of the jug and stepped toward the hooded creature. A pale hand reached out from under the cloak and took the jug.

“Where is my payment?” The fairy hissed.

A ripple of laughter came from under the hood. “You fairies are so impatient. It will be the death of you at some point.” The pale hand extended again, passing a vial of glowing amber liquid back. “Here, be careful. Do you know what to do with it?”

The fairy sighed. I could imagine his eyes rolling. “Yes, I remember.”

“Tell me.”

“I rub it on her.”

“All of it,” the voice under the hood snapped.

I wondered what the liquid would do for the dead woman. Then the fairy put the vial in his bag and I wondered who he meant by ‘her’. He started walking toward me, so I ducked behind the dumpster.

“Goodnight, then.” The figure turned to leave by the other end of the alley. I got a glance of a pale face and a curl of red hair in the lamplight.

Now what were the Sidhe trading with fairies? And, why did that woman have to die?

I was alone again. I slipped over to the body; a quick glance showed me she was young. I threw a charm at the dumpster and the lid lifted. I placed the body inside, hoping no one would notice.

Killing humans is not a good thing. If they find out we exist, we become a threat and they’ll hunt us. Last time that happened the Vampires were destroyed, not just here in Vancouver, everywhere.

Chapter Two

I met Cate at Bank’s. We spent a half hour talking about the spell, but the excitement was gone for me. We agreed to meet in a couple of days when it was moon dark and we could test it.

I got to my place around three in the morning. I live near the hospital, away from the crowds of downtown, in a little house that has a big basement. My friends know how to find me, my enemies can’t. When I secured the spells on the entrance I went straight down to the basement. It was my workshop and my haven. It was warm and smelled of herbs and unguents and burning wood.

When I decorated it, I had function in mind way more than form. The floor was bare to the dirt in the center. I built up the floor around a circle, a slab of concrete to hold my benches, a couch and a few worn upholstered chairs. The walls were plaster, originally white but now stained from all the powders and potions I used in my spells. In the very center I had a fire pit, and around that, a circle etched in white chalk, one section open to show there were no spirits there. The only thing that linked me to the outside world was an iPod speaker run on batteries. No other electricity.

I turned on the speaker and chose a mellow playlist that wouldn’t interfere with my research. I needed to figure out what the Sidhe and the fairies were up to.

My copy of the History of the Real Folk, that’s what we call ourselves, was falling apart. I took it from the bookshelf and laid it out on one of my tables. I would have preferred to sit on the couch and flip through it, but I needed the table to hold all the loose pages. I had rubbed the leather cover smooth as skin over the years, and I didn’t want to lose that feeling by having the binding repaired. I opened it to the center and summoned my power. Passing my hand across the open pages, I whispered, “Google, fairies and Sidhe.” Yeah, I know but why go all arcane when you can use what the humans use, they are wizards at efficient processes if not magic.

The pages that contained some reference to the words glowed pale yellow. I passed my hands over again, and added human death to the search criteria. Three pages flickered violet then the colors faded completely. That was not good.

I went upstairs and got a beer from the fridge, then sat on the edge of the wooden floor thinking about what to do next. I didn’t want to summon anything big, but I needed to know why my search failed. I was pretty sure whatever was going on was a Sidhe plan, because even though they were considered fairies, they were different. Fairies don’t generally have the attention span to do anything quite as complicated as kill a human. The Sidhe, however, were always up to some convoluted power play.

So, who to ask? Summoning even a minor spirit was going to cost me energy. I swallowed half the beer and pulled a protein bar out of a drawer. I washed the first half of the power bar down with the last of the beer.

I prepared for the summoning. In the center of the circle I placed the remaining half of the protein bar. Around that I put four finger bones from a raccoon, a pinch of dust from a graveyard and four drops of pine oil. Before stepping into the circle, I checked the windows were securely covered so no prying eyes would disturb the spell. I closed the door to the cellar and threw the bolt, just in case I got unwanted visitors.

After I felt sure I wouldn’t be interrupted, I stepped into the circle and closed the gap by drawing the final chalk line.

“Spirit of the City, rise in this shape and answer my questions.” I decided my usual coax and cajole approach to summoning was going to take too much time. The direct approach was more appropriate to the urgency of the situation.

Nothing happened.

I wasn’t really surprised. The Spirit of the City would know everything I needed but was fickle and demanding. Since he didn’t answer I decided to go for a less fussy sort. I picked up the bones and scratched at the earth. “Lucas Jordan. I call your restless spirit to this circle to provide information.” I waited. It would take a few minutes to get Lucas’ attention.