Month 12, Day 6, 3:00 PM

Frank Poe

Frank examined his spell array for errors three times before he decided everything was just where it needed to be. He’d retrieved his heirloom conduit and a large beast core. The core sat in its proper place on his desk. He’d build the elaborate spell array around a heptagram with writing, a 14 glyphs, and all linked to all the shelved books; he took a deep breath.

Two and a half hours of preparation.

He was ready.

Frank clarified his thoughts, held the conduit in his left hand and turned his will to the stikhomanteia. He would not do something so crass and obvious as to try to find the Raven Queen. Instead, he began to try to find a connection between those connections that he’d already seen, and maybe ones he had not. What was the connection that would guide him?

Around him the books whispered; this was closer to a meditation and search for spirit than hearing with his ears. He walked directly to a shelf and drew the strongest voice, then placed it in the first numbered and labeled square on the floor. It was an astronomy text. ‘Yes.’ He thought. ‘That one fits.’

Slowly, the spell drew his attention to more books; each one, he placed in a labeled square. He paid no attention to the spines. The vocabulary for the augury would be drawn from these picks, and the spell guided him from one to the next till he had seven total.

Then he moved to the second part of the spell. What was the Raven Queen’s connection to the world? He tried to draw on the collective power of unconscious connection, and his own tenuous connection to ravens and Siobhan Naught. If he went looking, where would she reveal herself? Imbued with this command, he opened each of the seven books, not bothering to guide the process too much, but letting them fall to the page they preferred. He let the magic continue to guide him and he scanned the open pages and selected the seven words.

Luna

Shadow

Cast

Wizard

Knowing

Stolen

Stillness

Frank relaxed and let the magic divination dissipate.

He’d had clearer guidance than this before. He sighed. Maybe if he’d tried the full sentences version, instead of just calling for words?

Unspecified guidance could be like this though. He just wasn’t connected enough yet.

Frank figured that the Raven Queen, or someone close to her, would either be impacted by, or would impact some event with the moon and darkness, a spell, a knowledgeable sorcerer, stolen object and stillness, or stolen stillness? How would stillness be stolen? Calming someone who was agitated? Or, a moon, cast in shadow, could be an eclipse.

He picked up the astronomy book and looked in the back for the table of lunar eclipses; there weren’t any for nearly a year. That didn’t seem to be right.

Frank picked up the slightly warm beast core and tucked it, with his heirloom conduit, back into his component box.

Frank, tired and aching from his first controlled use of serious magic for months, sat on his hard desk chair. He was tempted to just read the books the spell had selected as its vocabulary. The clue could still be a combination of the words, and possibly the subject of each book.

Unfortunately, the book’s subjects did not give him an obvious clue: An Astronomy text, a Bestiary, History, Folk Tales, A Treatise on Language and Glyphs, a Legal Treatise on Forbidden Magic, and a Meditation Guide.

In short, nothing that would make sense until perhaps later, in hindsight, that could make this meaning understandable.

‘I will figure this out.’ Frank buried his face in his hands. ‘Maybe.’

The Raven Queen was seemingly clever and powerful, but he had over a thousand thaums of power available. He’d been a half term from Mastery. He was a sorcerous investigator. He wouldn’t let this setback keep him from figuring out the Raven Queen

He leaned back in his chair and stared at his office’s grey-painted ceiling.

‘Where is Marie?’ Frank started. She would stay at the parlor and she planned to visit Millie, but … it was late afternoon. The sun would soon set. She’d been away all day. If she planned on staying out for longer, she hadn’t said.

Frank Poe was not the sort to discount his premonitions, and his premonition put a churning feeling in his gut.

Frank fished in his pocket for his work-a-day conduit and a cleaning cloth. Dousing the cloth in alcohol from his drawer, he changed a few quick marks on the array, modifying and simplifying the commands, then changing the energy source to the heat in the air, and leaving an out in case the spell took too much power. Frank placed the book of folk tales in the vocabulary square. He turned his will to the modified spell. The book flopped open, and Frank read the first full sentence that came to him. The book quoted a princess:

“I am aware of the danger I run, but it does not deter me from my purpose.”

Frank jumped up so quick, he knocked over his chair. Marie was in danger, probably of her own making. He considered a map scry. But, he did not have any hair or blood to scry with. He could take one of her possessions, but then he’d have to break into her bedroom.

‘Or no.’ Poe thought as he ran out to her table. ‘She keeps our finances!’

Poe scooped a pencil, bottles ink, and the accounting book, and ran back into his office. Poe pulled his city atlas off the shelf, a bottle of mercury from his component box, and several other components.

Working quickly, he created a third spell array. This was a complex variation on map scry, but it was a spell that he’d perfected for the use with an atlas, rather than a single map. For real accuracy, he’d have worked from a diorama, but who had the space?

For components in the array he had a bottle of iron gall, a bottle of India ink, a black diamond, a gold coin, the large beast core he pulled back out of the component box, a handkerchief that had captured rain from the plane of radiance, Marie’s pencil, and last, the office accounting book. Poe put the drop of mercury on the street atlas, focused his will, and started the scry.

The magic bucked him! A slight glow started in the array. Frank practically heard his professors’ contempt for such a poor casting. Frank poured on more of his will and focused. Marie shouldn’t have any protections against scrying. Then, Frank realized the trouble.

Marie was close to another magical effect; it blocked him!

With increased application of Frank’s will, the bead of mercury finally did as it should, and melted into the atlas. The pages flipped open to a page on a neighborhood not far from Hands, Hearts, and Palms. But, instead of resting as a quicksilver bead on the page, the mercury spread out, like oil on the surface of water, making an irregular iridescent shape on the buildings between several streets.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Frank tried to improve the resolution; to get the bead to shrink back into a bead and point to the building where Marie might be found, but it refused. Poe pushed the spell as far as he dared, and then let it go.

The scry only showed the Marie’s general location in those few blocks. Poe could only think of a few reasons that could happen, and none of them were particularly good.

Stella or the worker’s a the parlor would know Marie’s location, because Poe had a dreadful feeling that Millie was responsible for this divination resistance. A thaumaturge of Millie Parker’s supposed power wasn’t enough to stop his search, but it was enough to dilute the spell.

He tossed on his coat, grabbed an extra beast core, and ran out and down the street toward the parlor. He tried to ignore the pressure behind his eyes. The extra strain he’d taken, facing the will of some other sorcerer or effect. Maybe he wasn’t as recovered as he thought.

Of course, when he arrived, none of the regular bouncers or receptionists were there. He asked for Marie by name and instead of information, he got brittle smiles and hostile glares. He asked for Mama Stella, for Madame, and even for Dinky. They weren’t available.

Just as the bouncer was moving to toss him out, Madame must have been alerted. She looked better, but still sported some of the bruises.

“Madame! You know me; I’m Poe. Where is Marie?”

“Mr. … Poe? Have we met?”

“I do not have time for this. Marie didn’t return to the Agency. Where. Is. Marie?”

Madame gave Poe a long thoughtful look. Whatever calculation she’d been doing in her head, it came out as a willingness to help Frank, which was the most he could hope for.

“She’s visiting Millie.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean?”

Frank drew the street atlas from his pocket, flopped it open to the page that the spell had identified and pointed. “Which house?”

Madame traced her finger down the street, thinking.”That one.” She pointed.

Frank snapped the book shut.

“What’s wrong?” Madame called after him as he flung himself out into the evening. A few minutes later, Madame was still standing at the reception desk. She felt upset about something, but she just wasn't sure what about.

Frank ran. He’d barely exercised for several years, but his body still seemed to know how to run. That sadist Fekten, in his Defense classes, had still left some memory in his body for running. But, when he reached the street with the Millie’s house on it, he slowed to a stop, breathing hard.

Nothing looked too out of the ordinary. The street was, perhaps, a bit quiet.

Frank walked slowly now, counting the buildings, looking for the house Madame pointed him too. Then he saw it. The door was slightly ajar. Inside it was dim, but looked like there was the beginnings of a party; there were people moving inside. It felt strangely inviting. The whole building seemed to take on the feeling of …

Frank stopped halfway up the stairs. The compulsion was mild, but it was growing stronger as darkness approached.

He pulled his pipe from his coat, packed it as quickly as he could with his etherglow kinninnik, and lit it. He held his pipe and smaller conduit He blew a smoke ring, but was too nervous, and the smoky ring was obviously not clear enough. Taking a second mouthful of smoke, he blew three perfect rings. Picking the best one floating upward, he cast, holding the smoke circle in place with the magic and holding the protection word and phrase in place in his mind.

The mind is so much faster, if more imprecise, than chanting. But, Frank had practiced this hundreds of times: A protection for the mind and body from Aberrance.

Put we on the spirit armor,

to stand against the lies,

for we fight not flesh and blood;

but against powers,

against darkness,

against wickedness.

Therefore take up the armor,

resist the evil,

and stand with all things real.

The spirit armor locked in place, invisible. This wasn’t that powerful a spell when esoterically cast like this, but it did scale, and would last some time, even as the smoke ring dissipated. He dared not try to use his full will, as tired as he felt.

When had he cast so many spells in quick succession? Not for a long time.

The armor worked, and his mind cleared, but he felt a strong urge to cry.

‘Blood magic? Millie Parker would be far more than an apprentice to cast a spell of this power. This would be great risk if she just wanted revenge.’ Frank thought. He stood at the doorway, his emotions telling him to run in and save Marie. His logic telling him that something was very wrong.

‘I could just go to the Red Guard.’ Frank considered this, but he knew he wouldn’t almost as it had come to mind. It would take time, and Marie was in danger now. He had no proof that this was an aberrant. And, what kind would he report? ‘A nightmare type?’ Frank questioned. ‘No.’ He concluded. If it were a nightmare type, he’d still feel the pressure, or maybe some other effect; in fact, if it were a Nightmare type, he might already have been snared. If this was a nightmare type, he might as well try to find what was left of his apprentice before he died.

‘I’ll just check, carefully, to see what the source of this magic is.’ If it was an aberrant, he’d try to grab Marie and leave. If it was blood magic, Millie Parker was likely not strong enough to keep him ensnared.

Frank put his conduit and beast core away. ‘No more casting. I’m strained enough.’ He thought. The spirit armor would protect him.

He pushed the door slightly open and peered into the dark hallway behind it; the sunset illuminated only a short way into the house.

He limbered his wrist, and spun the still hot pipe. He took another draw, letting the radiance fill him, when he blew out, the glowing smoke lit the dark entryway. Some people loitered just inside; dazed and confused looking. Snared, but not …

“Are you here to behold her beauty? She is the most beautiful! We should worship her.” A lanky dark haired man with a red scarf tied around his arm said to Frank.

Frank ignored him, and pushed into the house.

At the top of the landing was a figure of mesmerizing white. Frank’s attention wandered for a moment, caught in her swaying motion. She was full of grace and beauty. Her arms raised and lowered, her nude body swaying and dancing. Was she scarred? What of it? That only wrote more beauty in her flesh. It reminded Frank of the gold repair of fine tea bowls; in fixing the shattered thing, the scars returned her to even greater elegance. Lines of gold had repaired the porcelain of her body.

Frank threw off the compulsion; as long as his spell held, he would not get lost in adoring that dancing form. She was an aberrant, but seemingly not a strong one. Frank’s hand hurt; when he looked at it he realized his grip on the pipe had gone so tight the kraken pattern was digging into his palm.

At least the aberrant didn’t seem to be his apprentice. She was naked, and too noticeably womanly and scarred to be Marie. Millie Parker, Frank guessed.

‘I have to find Marie.’ Frank decided. He couldn’t lose her to this.

Frank saw people quite close to what was left of Millie, on the stairs and the landing. The people around her did not dare touch, but they all stood transfixed: held in place by the kind of mind bending magic that only blood sorcery or an aberrant produced.

The mental effect was weak, compared to magic of the last aberrant he’d met. Likely, even without the spirit armor, he could resist it. If, however, he were prepared. He was not prepared. Considering the turmoil of his mind at that moment, only his spirit armor spell kept him from falling down into a hole of adoration.

He cursed, and dragged his eyes away, scanning the crowd for Marie. He spotted women and men, old and young, including some two dozen sycophants and worshipers, on the second floor, in the hallway, and even in some of the rooms. All of them dazed, even if She was not in their line of sight.

“Marie!” Frank called. What else he could do but call for her? “Marie?”

‘Is she somewhere else?’ He thought. ‘In the back of the house?’

He moved through, trying to push his way toward the back, and simultaneously trying not to be ensnared again by the aberrant’s magical effect. Her effect wasn’t as strong if he looked away.

But, looking away was his mistake. Without him watching for it, the creature glided down the stairs, then touched his shoulder from behind, and, when he twitched, he faced her. He stared directly into Her eyes and beheld all the broken beauty in the world.

The armor, which he’d incompletely cast, simply melted away, then Frank felt his body lose balance from the backlash, and even without maintaining an active connection to the spell, he fell like a marionette with all the magic cut from it.

He lost consciousness into a haze of adoration. His body recovered, but his mind could find no purchase to climb out of the emotional hole. His will, not fully recovered from casting earlier in the day, was too spent.

A silent music of longing filled him.

It felt so good to watch the beautiful moon fey dance and forget. He was just so tired. He’d failed. Again.

In the thrall of Her, Frank did not feel his tears, even as they dripped off his chin and onto the floor.