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Sigils of Power - [Urban Fantasy/Progression]
Chapter 13 - Meeting The Locals

Chapter 13 - Meeting The Locals

image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

El-Reno was a smaller city with some 26,000 inhabitants and we drove South of the city centre to the dive bar Colson had talked about. It was a two-plan rectangular building in an old west saloon style, bat doors and everything, with a sign hanging on top that read “Jasper’s”. Inspired, really.

We parked the car and Colson turned to address me.

“Let me do some introductions when we head in there, kid,” he told me seriously. “Some of the people in there are a shady bunch and I don’t want you getting in a fight because you looked at someone wrong.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

Wary of Colson’s tendency to pull pranks, I’d wait and see what it looked like before complying with his demands. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Imara’s hair had absolutely no imperfections and that he’d probably planned to play some sort of practical joke on me if our situation hadn’t been so serious.

Going inside, I walked right behind Colson.

The bar was pretty much what I’d expected and looked like something right out of a movie set. Darkened, with soft yellow lights hanging from the ceiling, there was a bar counter on the left side with various drinks and taps, the accompanying bar stools empty. Running parallel on the right side was a smattering of round tables with a hodgepodge of different chairs, some of which were occupied by a bunch of people I assumed were regulars. To finish off the look, the bartender was sporting a dirty apron and wiping a glass with a suspicious-looking dishtowel that belonged in an incinerator. It couldn’t get any more cliché even if it wanted to. The most unusual thing in here was the bartender’s slightly pointy ears.

“Yo Jasper,” Colson called after we’d entered the premises, raising his hand in greeting.

“Colson, mate!” Jasper exclaimed in a surprised British accent. “What brings you here? It’s been a while.”

Colson seated himself on a bar stool—took off his sunglasses—and I followed his lead, joining him.

“Just passing through,” he told him. “The kid and I are following Route 66 and I figured we might as well come say hello, being in the neighbourhood and all.”

“That so? Kid?” he asked and turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “Mate, this guy doesn’t look a day younger than twenty-three.”

Colson chuckled humourlessly.

“Don’t let his stature fool you, he’s only seventeen, so no serving him booze while I’m not looking, got it?”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed ambiguously. “What’s new?”

He started pouring Colson a tap and it didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t need to ask what his preference was.

“Kid killed an empousa down in New Orleans,” Colson managed before he took a sip of beer and sighed contentedly. “Showing him the ropes and all that. New charge, you know?”

Surprise crossed Jasper’s features for a moment.

“An empousa? At seventeen? Damn lad, first round’s on me,” he said and rummaged behind the bar for a moment before bringing up a dusty coke.

Blowing some of the dust off I surreptitiously checked the expiration date on the bottom while his back was turned. Expired two months ago, eh, I guess that was fine. I opened it and took a sip. Yep, fine.

I turned on my chair and looked around at its other occupants.

There were a fair amount of people down at the far end, gathered around a table, discussing something. Now that I got a closer look, I saw a bunch of guns and other weapons lying on the table for all to see. One of the men looked up and caught my inquisitive stare and started heading in our direction. He was a dirty, short, reedy thing with a tan that spoke of too much time spent under the sun. The only clean thing about him was the gold wedding band on his left hand.

Ah shit, maybe Colson wasn’t playing a prank this time.

Of course, I’d left the spear in the car. Not that I’d be able to activate it, but I felt naked without it.

“What’s this? You letting children in here these days Jasper?” he exclaimed in a high-pitched degrading tone.

Colson sipped his beer.

“Leave off, Tanner”—what an apt name—“this ‘child’ killed an empousa in New Orleans. More than you could boast of when you were seventeen, I bet,” Jasper told him off in an exasperated tone.

“Bullshit,” was Tanner’s predictable response, “ain’t no way. Kid’s barely got any fuzz on his chin, no way he killed a shifter.”

His use of the word “kid” didn’t hold any of the fondness Colson’s tone did when he used the word, and it pissed me off, anger bubbling to the forefront.

“I did, actually,” told him looking him in the eyes and standing up. “Wanna know what it looked like?”

I stood head and shoulders above him and he took a small step back.

“Psh,” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Everybody knows what an empousa looks like, green. Most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, until it starts eating you.”

The other people down the end of the bar had stopped what they were doing to look at us.

“This one was different,” I told him seriously.

“Oh really? How so?”

“It was old and haggard. Really ugly, I think it had boils or something it was hideous to look at,” I spun the lie as fast as I could. “Hunched over with a giant hooked nose it almost looked like one of those hags you hear about in children’s tales.”

“Bullshit,” he said again. This guy had quite the vocabulary. “Ain’t ever heard of an empousa looking like that.”

“Really?” I faked surprise. “I’d have assumed you knew exactly what I mean.”

Adrenaline pumped through my system in anticipation of a fight, and I prepared myself for the inevitable confrontation.

“Why the hell would I know what you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, I just kinda assumed that’s what your wife looks like,” I said with a completely straight face.

Colson was mid drink and guffawed a laugh into his beer, spilling it down himself. Jasper smiled and there was a soft chorus of amusement coming from further down. I was prepared to react at a moment’s notice, expecting him to lash out at me for making him look like a chump in front of his friends. Tanner looked at me like I’d punched him in the face for a moment and I tensed.

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Then he smiled.

“HAH! Guess I walked into that one, didn’t I?” he laughed, genuinely amused. Smiling wrinkles crinkled at his eyes. “You’re alright, kid,” he pointed a thumb at me. “Where the hell’d you pick this one up, Colson?”

Colson was wiping at his beard with the dirty dishcloth Jasper had handed him, cursing under his breath.

“Picked him up in Louisiana. Tanner, Jasper, meet Ethan. My new charge,” his eyes twinkled in amusement. “Haven’t seen this side of him much, but it seems like he’s got quite the mouth on him.”

I shook hands with both of the men and Tanner turned to Colson with a questioning expression.

“You here to join up?” he asked seriously.

Colson raised his eyebrows and nodded at the gathering of people who’d gone back to whatever they were doing.

“That’s what the posse’s for?” he inquired.

“Yap,” he nodded. “Me ‘n the gang are heading out in a couple of hours. Bunch of people are squatting in the old Johansen farmstead. We don’t know how many or for how long exactly. It’s been abandoned for a couple years now. Four people have gone missing this past month and there’ve been some cattle mutilations, so we’re heading out to investigate, see if there’s a connection. Cops’ve been useless, saying it’s normal people skip town to head to Oklahoma City. Presented the evidence to the Board myself, got the permit around here somewhere…” he patted his pockets and found a slip of paper that he handed to Colson.

When he unfolded it, it looked almost like something you’d get in the mail from the government. There was a hand signature at the bottom and a stamp that carried the same design as my Enforcer’s pin.

“Looks to be above board,” Colson stated as he handed the paper back. “You know what, I think we will. Ethan needs to get some more experience under his belt, and I could use a workout. Speaking of,” Colson turned to me. “We’ll see how things are looking tomorrow, but we’re starting a morning routine. Gotta keep ourselves in shape. We’ve been slacking and driving too much lately.”

Nodding my acknowledgement, Tanner went back to his friends and Colson finished his beer.

“The rooms available?” he turned and asked Jasper.

“They are,” he confirmed, “go grab your stuff and I’ll nab the keys for you. If you’re helping with recon, you can stay free of charge.”

“Good man,” Colson slapped the desk.

We went out and got our stuff from the car. Jasper met us outside and we went around back and up some stairs and deposited it in two rooms that were situated on top of the bar. Thankfully they looked much cleaner than downstairs. We went back down but before I could walk inside, Colson put a hand on my shoulder.

“Handled that well in there, kid,” he looked me in the eye and raised a finger. “Just be careful in the future alright? Tanner was sizing you up because he knows me, but people can be unpredictable. Bet you thought he was a yokel, didn’t you?” he sounded amused.

Caught red-handed, I looked away.

“… No, no, I didn’t. Maybe. Okay but come on, the way he walked up was so cliché,” I faltered, admitting it.

Colson snorted.

“Yeah, be careful of stereotyping people. He plays it up to get folks to underestimate him. Shrewd one, he is.”

“Just like someone else I know,” I muttered under my breath.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

He looked at me suspiciously.

“Let’s head inside. See what they’ve cooked up.” He'd probably heard me.

“Just a sec,” I tapped his arm to stop him, and he turned back around. “Why don’t we use guns? They’ve got guns in there and I’m a fair shot. Wouldn’t that be better than our fists or a spear?”

Colson thought about it for a moment, stroking his beard.

“Hmm, you have a point. Out here we probably won’t encounter anything where guns would be completely ineffective, but it’s bad to rely on them too much.”

“Why?”

“Well, lots of things just get pissed off if you shoot ‘em. Many wouldn’t care, the bullets wouldn’t penetrate or do any lasting harm. And bullets have finite speed and power. A lot of things will simply move outta the way.”

That stumped me. I’d seen Colson move, but hadn’t really registered how fast he’d been going, I think. Was it teleportation? That would be awesome. Still thinking about the amazing things you could do with aether, I followed behind Colson when he went inside.

We joined Tanner and his friends at their table. They all looked fairly normal and following Colson’s advice I’d tabled my prejudice. Try not to hold it against me, I was still seventeen and inexperienced in the ways of the real world.

Weapons aside, they had a copy of a blueprint of an old farmhouse on the table, rings circling the entrances, windows, and scribbles here and there on the room layout.

“Colson, Ethan, meet Dinks, Rob, Sally, and Mateo,” Tanner introduced us.

We shook hands all around while Tanner went over the details.

“Johansen farmstead, like I said, abandoned for two years. One storey, two front doors and one back door,” he pointed at them on the blueprint. “We’ve seen nine different people heading in and out since we started observing them, mostly at night. Could be more inside.”

He then pointed at the windows, “Windows here, here, and here, boarded up so we can’t see inside. We’ve tried to sneak a peek when they open the doors, but we’ve kept our distance—to avoid alerting them—so we haven’t spotted anything.”

“What if it’s just squatters? Normals, I mean. If they haven’t done anything wrong?” I asked, and they all looked at me.

Sally took over and started explaining. Her voice was low and raspy like she didn’t use it much.

“No harm no foul. We’ll ask them to leave the premises, or we’ll contact the proper authorities. Either way, they’re there illegally. Locals popping up carrying guns may seem like overkill, but it’s a great motivator.” She smiled, a set of pearly whites.

Frowning at the blueprint, I thought about it.

“How will we know, though? If they can use magic?”

I hoped my questions didn’t annoy them but knowing that you couldn’t tell the difference I was genuinely curious.

Dink took over.

“Tha’s a good question, green. Tanner’ll draw fully on his Sigil. It ain’t perfect, but most holders will react in some way if n’when you do that. Panic, confusion, getting ready to fight, perhaps draw on their own, there’s loads of possibilities. Normals won’t notice anything’s off.”

That made sense. If an enemy was prepared, they might be able to pretend they didn’t notice anything, but if you went from zero to a hundred in a heartbeat, most would probably be startled in some way.

“I can see that,” I told them. “Thanks for humouring me, I’m kinda new at this.” I smiled shyly.

“No worries kid,” Tanner said and clapped me on the back. “We were all green at some point. Now, the approach. We’ll use Mateo’s”—Mateo did a two-finger salute—“van and just drive right up to the front door. Rob”—Rob nodded—"and Sally will fan out and head around back. As you can see here,” he pointed at a large room in the middle of the house, “the living room is pretty large, and they’ll probably be holed up there. We’ll see what we’re dealing with first, then clear the other rooms as necessary.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and everybody took a moment to look at the blueprint.

“Load up and get ready. We’ll head out in fifteen,” Tanner eventually stated. “It’s a thirty-minute drive, so we’ll go over it again in the car.”

Feeling nervousness starting to settle, I almost jumped when Tanner handed me a gun.

“I know you’re under 18,” he said, “but Colson seems to trust ya, so I’ll do the same. Here, it’s my old Colt 1911. You know your way around a gun?”

Instead of responding I simply slid the mag out, checked to see if it was loaded and racked back the chamber slide to eject the round, catching it.

“Seems like ya do!” he conceded, “usual .45’s tipped with silver. Won’t kill most things, but it’ll probably hurt ‘em. Normally I’d say aim for the torso, but honestly, you’ll need to aim for the head on most of the things that go bump in the night.”

He nodded at me and I put the bullet in the mag, reloaded the gun, engaged the safety and tucked it into the back of my pants.

“Regular John Wayne, you are,” Colson smiled at me. “I didn’t think about guns because I never use them myself, but it’s actually a good thing for you to have since you can’t draw on your Sigil yet.”

They all looked at me.

“Hol’ up,” Dink said, “you killed an empousa without using your Sigil? How?”

Colson grinned at them.

“He killed it in melee combat, using my old boot knife.” He reached down and brought it up for them to see.

“Holy shit.”

“Well done, kid.”

“Damn, impressive.”

“Fine work, Ethan,” Tanner seemed contemplative like he was seeing me in a new light.

Their praise settled on me awkwardly and I felt my cheeks go warm.

“I was cheating,” I supplied, “Imara’d put a Blessing on me so I couldn’t die, but it was a rough fight.”

Their jaws slackened and Sally was the first to speak.

“You were Blessed by the Mother?” her voice was insistent.

Colson laughed.

“He was. Witnessed it myself. She saw something in him. Gave him a Blessing to keep him safe,” he assured them.

“Glad to have you aboard, then,” Mateo intoned, looking at me seriously, “normally we’d be wary of letting you join if you can’t draw on your Sigil, but with Colson being here and the Mother’s approval, it’s a done deal.”

The way they all said her name, they seemed awed at the fact that she’d provided a Blessing for me.

Guess it’s kind of a big deal. Maybe she doesn’t just hand them out willy-nilly?

“Alright ‘nuff gawking,” Tanner finished seriously, clapping his hands. “We’ve got places to be and a farm to investigate. Load up, head out, see you out there in ten.”