“No. As far as I can tell everything we’ve always believed till now is true: no fifth metaplane exists. Period. The spirit Farazad summoned isn’t from a new metaplane and it isn’t an elemental. It’s another form of beast entirely. I’m not even sure that we should be calling it a spirit, but it’s the only word that fits. By all the laws of magic, this creature shouldn’t even exist.”
He shrugged. “Whatever this astral entity really is, my attempt at an astral quest attracted its attention. Perhaps it thought I was trying to learn its true name, and tried to stop me. Whatever the reason, the spirit was drawn to me. It, uh… attacked me.”
“Attacked you!”
They were passing through the newsroom. A few of the reporters and editors raised their heads and stared curious1y at them. She took Aziz firmly by the arm and steered him toward the lunch room. Thankfully, it was empty. Pushing Aziz inside, she closed the door. She pulled the first aid kit out of a drawer, found the tube of burn cream, and twisted the lid off. Aziz sank into a chair and sat with his hands a few centimeters short of his lap, as if afraid that letting them rest on anything would hurt. Carla gently dabbed the cream onto his burns with a fingertip. The sharp smell of the ointment tilled the room. “Tell me what happened,” she urged.
“The spirit came close enough to burn me,” Aziz said. His dark eyes winced at the memory. “I thought I was finished-that I’d be cooked alive, like the fellow who died in the alley. But then I sensed someone trying to break my hermetic circle. The circle held, but the interruption disturbed the spirit somehow. It vanished-just like that.” He started to snap his fingers, then winced at his burned skin.
“I must have passed out for a second or two. When I came to, I couldn’t see anything. I thought…” He looked up at Carla, blinking his watery eyes. “I thought I’d been permanently blinded. But then I remembered my astral senses. I looked into astral space, and guess who I saw, standing just outside the circle?”
“Pita?” Carla asked as she gently applied the born cream to his face. “You mean to tell me you had her along with you when you were working your magic?”
“Not intentionally,” Aziz answered. “And not in the flesh. I tried to touch her, but couldn’t. She’d projected herself into astral space.”
“What?” Carla said incredulously. “How in the world could she manage to-”
“She’s a raw magical talent, I guess.” Aziz said with an envious sigh. “And powerful, too. I didn’t do anything to drive the spirit away. I was toast-literally-until Pita came along. She was the one who drove it away.”
Carla sank into a chair beside Aziz. “Wow,” she said at last. “That’s a story in itself. There’s more to that kid than meets the eye.”
“That’s right,” Aziz said. “And that’s why I want her with me the next time I try to find out more about this astral entity. She seems to have some sort of natural power over it. The thing fled as soon as she tried to penetrate my hermetic circle. She must have done something to banish it. I’ve got my suspicions about what it might have been, but it’s too unbelievable to be true.” He turned his hands over, flexed them slightly, and winced. Then he smiled at Carla. “That feels better. Thanks.”
Carla shook her head. “You’re crazy,” she told him. “That spirit nearly killed you. What do you want to mess with it again for?”
“Why. Miss Carla”-Aziz arched an eyebrow-“if you keep talking like that, you’re going to make me think you still care for me.” He reached out for her cheek with fingers that smelled of burn cream.
Carla jerked her head away, sorry now that she’d revealed her feelings. Aziz was the same stupid slot he’d always been, putting his quest for magical knowledge ahead of his own safety. Ahead of her.
The mage lowered his hand and sighed. “If anyone should understand, it’s you, Carla,” he said. “This is a brand new form of spirit. Something that’s never been seen before in the hermetic tradition. I’ve got to know more about it.” He tried to catch her eye. “It’s just like when you’re onto a big story. You have to follow it through to the end. Well, it’s the same with mages. Once we get our teeth into something we-”
Carla held up a hand. “I don’t want to get into that old argument,” she told him curtly. “I don’t have the time right now. I’ve got a news story to pursue.” She stood. “You can help too, if you like. But I don’t want to have to worry about you getting killed mucking about with uncontrollable spirits. I’d rather know you were tucked inside your shop, safe behind its wards.”
“That’s the other thing,” Aziz said slowly. “The shop. It’s gone.”
“Gone? You make it sound like it dematerialized or something.”
“There was a fire. Two nights ago, while I was gathering the materials I needed to cast the spell. The store was completely gutted. All those books…” His face crumpled and Carla thought he was actually going to cry.
“My god,” Carla said. “That fire on Denny Way. That was your shop? I was so busy putting the Matrix story together that I didn’t pay any attention to the trideo feeds that night. I’m so sorry, Aziz. I know how much the shop meant to you.”
“At least I had insurance,” the mage said bitterly. “And a hardcopy printout of the Mitsuhama spell,” he added, patting one bulging pocket. “The memory chip you gave me burned up in the fire.”
“I don’t think so,” Carla said slowly. She screwed the top back onto the burn cream, then toyed with the tube, unwilling to look Aziz in the eye. “There was something I didn’t tell you the morning we came to your shop. The girl who saw the mage die-Pita-was being chased by two yakuza when we caught up to her. They were after the chip. I didn’t think they’d still be looking for it after our story on the spirit aired. It should have been too late by then for them to continue trying to plug the leak. But I guess I was wrong. Maybe they thought there was something on the chip that would link the spell to Mitsuhama. They probably saw the interview I did with you, broke into your store, and set the fire to cover their tracks once they had what they’d come for.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Aziz. Really. I didn’t realize that this would happen.”
“So Mitsuhania sent its goons after the chip, did they?” Aziz frowned, then winced as the movement pulled his skin. “And you haven’t seen Pita for two days? That doesn’t sound good.”
“I thought you said you just saw her.”
“In astral form, only,” Aziz corrected. “Her physical body could have been anywhere. Even in the clutches of the yakuza. Maybe she came to me for help.”
Carla felt a stab of guilt. Maybe she should have kept a closer eye on the kid. But she was a reporter with a story to follow. Masaki was better at playing mother hen than she was. Let him fuss over the street urchin. “The kid’s probably fine,” she said in a deliberately reassuring tone, “Masaki has lots of contacts. He’ll track her down sooner or later.
“But there is something I need your help with. I learned the names of three mages who worked with Farazad on the development of the spell. If I can get one of them to agree to an interview, I can verify that the spirit was developed as part of a Mitsuhama research project. And maybe, in the process, I’ll find out more about how to work the spell.”
“What are the names of these mages?” Aziz asked, instantly hooked. “Maybe I know one of them. I’ve met a number of Seattle’s mages over the years, through the shop.”
Carla recited the names she’d pulled from the personnel file: “Evelyn Belanger, Rolf Hosfeld, and Miyuki Kishi.”
“Belanger. Hmm… Is she a big woman in her thirties, with dark hair and a soft voice?”
“I wouldn’t know about the voice. But the dark hair fits with the picture in her personnel file. Do you know her?”