The team retreated to the boardroom, which was what they called the Garden Hotel. ‘The Garden’ had no garden, but did operate a small hotel on the top two levels. For Amy and the boys ‘The boardroom’ referred to the pub that took up the whole of the ground floor apart from the hotel’s small street front reception. There was no direct access to the bar from the hotel, it could only be accessed from an ally between the hotel and a neighbouring tattoo parlour. There was a sign but neither the sign or the ally were inviting, and it didn’t generally receive casual visitors. The pub was long and narrow, with a low ceiling and no air conditioning. The bar ran almost the entire length of the pub, the wall opposite the bar lined with small and run down booths. The area between the bar and the booths was jammed with small tables and chairs for those not early enough to get a booth. Despite the state's strict licensing laws, Amy had never seen it closed. It had a ground down charm if you looked at it from the outside, with its bright blue door and floor to ceiling windows with wooden frames. But the windows were caked with grime, and even if they had been clean they would only offer a view of the brick wall that was the side of the tattoo parlour. There were no windows anywhere else and it got darker and worse smelling the further you went into it, the stink of a carpet soaked in years worth of split beer. It seemed to be perpetually rammed even at times when people with productive lives should be at work, or really anywhere that wasn’t a pub. It had that out of time feeling that hung over places where people congregate when the general population are pursuing the endless logistics that make up a functioning adult life. It was favoured by the Elite Magical Protection crew mostly because it was directly across from their office. Once the team had found a booth and gratefully collapsed into it everything seemed more manageable. Their collective sleep deprivation from the previous night gave the Garden an even more off kilter feeling than usual, and Amy scanned the room for the men she had seen earlier in the van, or any more oversized monks, but no one looked out of the ordinary that she could see. Or at least no one looked out of the ordinary in a way out of sync with the peculiar but mostly harmless regulars of the Garden. She unclenched a little. Thomas pulled out his phone and the three of them scanned the news article Thomas had been trying to show them.

‘It says we used a proprietary type of magic to stop the art thief in front of our own cameras,’ Baron said.

‘Of course it does,’ said Amy. ‘That’s what we told them! Why did we do that?’

‘Well, more you than we,’ responded Baron.

‘You shouted out “proprietary!”’ shouted Amy.

Thomas sat back and tried to put the pieces together. ‘Do you think that’s the secret Greg was talking about? He thinks he knows what our proprietary magic is? We’re not the first people to figure out a workaround to do magic when cameras are on. Those hacks only last a few days before someone figures out how to squash them.’

Amy leaned in towards Thomas. ‘We didn’t figure out a workaround! There is no proprietary magic! God, this is so typical of the kind of nonsense you have to put up with as soon as people think magic is involved.’

Baron read the article again. ‘Hold on, this is weird …’

‘Of course it’s weird!’ muttered Amy. ‘It’s magic! It’s the worst!’

‘No not that, it’s weird what’s not in here. Us having proprietary magic was the smallest lie we told. We told them that our magic was a work around, but before that you told them that the thief had done magic directly in front of the camera, observable magic. That’s a much bigger lie! As big as it gets! And there’s not a mention of it!’

‘Maybe they didn’t hear it,’ said Amy.

‘You said it multiple times. You said it then you told them you understood the implications of it.’ Thomas put on his best Amy impersonation, waggling his head angrily and putting his hands on his hips. ‘I’m fully aware of the implications of what I’m telling you.’

Amy shrunk into her chair. ‘Why? Why do I talk?’

‘The point is there is nothing about that in here. Someone doing magic while being observed would change everything we know about magic, render every defence against magic useless.’

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‘Maybe they didn’t believe me?’

‘They definitely didn’t believe you. But it’s weird they didn’t even mention it. What does that mean?’

Amy’s stomach clenched, just for a second. Baron saw the colour drain from her face.

‘What?’ Baron asked.

Amy looked around, the pub was noisy, everywhere she could see there were people looking at each other and glancing around. Amy noted a security camera in the corner above the bar. There was nowhere to get away with magical nonsense here.

‘Nothing.’ she said. ‘Nothing, I keep thinking I sense magic but I think my nerves are just shot. Or I might have the runs. The more I think about it the more I think that the whole monk stuffed with magic thing might just be gastro.’

Baron and Thomas looked around as well. Baron looked under the table and saw a sea of legs and abandoned chip packets. He also saw a fish. A dead fish under one of the tables. The longer he looked the more oddities he noticed. A woman wearing suit pants and shiny shoes, but the suit pants were rolled up to her knees. A desk lamp plugged in and shining a light on a bar of soap. Another fish. ‘Oh no.’

Amy grabbed him. ‘What?’

Baron has another look under the table. ’I could be wrong but there is a lot of weird shit under these tables.’

Thomas paled. ‘Conditions.’

Amy rolled her eyes. ‘Conditions! No, not bloody magic! It can’t be, there are people everywhere, there’s a camera on! And another one over there!’ She gestured towards a second camera at the door, catching the main room and the other camera. Classic two camera coverage. Amy’s stomach clenched, again just for a moment. Thomas and Baron noticed and all three looked around.

‘Has anything changed?’ asked Baron. They saw nothing out of the ordinary, people were talking animatedly, if anything the place was getting rowdier. A drinker was napping with his head in his arms on the table. Another clench, but no change. Another clench, and this time a thump. They spun around to identify the sound and saw another drinker napping on the table. A clench and another thump, this time they saw it, a couple of patrons slumping on their tables.

‘Pants!’ Amy whispered. ‘Don’t close your eyes! How? How are they doing this? There are people everywhere! There are cameras! I can see their red lights! Let's get out of here.’

Any winced, her stomach pains were coming in groups now, sets of stuttering cramps. A multitude of thumps, people were dropping like flies and the ones who weren’t dropping had started to notice, trying to rouse their friends or to drag them to the door. But it seemed too late, more people dropped, the pace was picking up speed.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Any stood up. ‘Run!’

They joined the movement towards the door. Thomas stopped. ‘Is it also getting darker?’

He dropped. Baron and Amy caught him and raised him up, each ducking under Thoma’s arms to support him. ‘Noooo! Quickly! No … Wait!’ said Amy.

‘Wait?’ Spluttered Baron?

‘They are going for the people closest to the door!’

Baron looked up and saw that indeed bodies were piling up by the entrance.

Baron saw one of the fish and booted it across the floor, trying to disrupt the effect, but people continued to drop, the noise and panic rising. Amy scanned the room. ‘We need a different plant. We need to take out the prick who is doing this.’

Baron remembered the woman with her pant legs rolled up. He looked up and there she was, the only person not panicking, two tables away, still seated. Amy saw where he was looking, and saw her, a young woman in a business suit, two tables away, hair tied back, looking straight at Amy and Thomas.

‘It’s her!’ Amy said. ‘She’s the magician!’ Amy dropped Thomas and launched herself onto a table and towards the rolled pants woman. The woman remained seated, looking Amy directly in the eye. Amy leapt onto the woman’s table then threw herself at the magician knocking her off her chair. They both sprawled on the ground.

Amy lay on top of the magician and snarled ‘No more magic fuckery from you!’

The woman laughed. ‘I’m not a magician you idiot. I’m a condition.’

Amy continued to pin the woman and tried to process what she said. A condition? Of course, the rolled up pants were the condition. Typical magic nonsense. She was having trouble holding on to the idea. She thought Thomas might have been right, it was getting darker. Amy felt her stomach clenches increase as it continued to get darker, her body felt heavy. She realised what was happening and muttered a sloppy ‘Oh … bloody magi …’

She wasn’t unconscious. But it was pitch black and there was no sound. No time. No up or down.

‘Oh crap,’ Amy thought. ‘I’m dead.’