Five feet tall, red, muscular, and naked with a pair of horns, a whiplike tail, and tiny wings that couldn’t support a bat, the imp raised his fist, ready pound me into the floor again in the back kitchen of the Italian mom-and-pop shop we were battling in. Thankfully, the imp was a lot like my high school bullies, all strength, no finesse, and the haymaker he threw was telegraphed from a mile away.
I ducked underneath the punch, losing a precious second as I wobbled on my feet, my balance still a bit shot from earlier blows. I twisted my fingers in a circle and pointed as I chanted the words “Force Missile.” A ball of blue and green formed in the circle, shooting forward as I finished chanting and pointing, striking the imp in its chest.
Force Missile Cast
89% Synchronicity
Force Bolt does 15 damage to Lesser Imp.
The attack just pissed the imp off further, and it swung a tight uppercut that caught me in the chest, throwing my frail form backward. I smashed into the closed refrigerator door and groaned, the back of my head sending pain signals from where it had been knocked around even further.
Henry Alfred Chan Hock Tsien dealt 23 damage by Lesser Imp.
Even as I twisted my fingers around to cast another spell, the imp battered my hand away disdainfully. Through tear-filled eyes, I stared at my would-be murderer.
Lesser Imp (Level 4)
HP: 13/43
Before the monster could finish me off, a thrown cast-iron pan caught it on the back of its head. I swore I saw a little red -1 float off the top of its head, though I wasn’t sure if that was just the incipient concussion or an actual artifact of Lily tinkering with the wish. The imp, distracted, turned around and stalked to its new prey.
“Do something!” Chantelle Rossi, the imp’s attacker and my current quest-giver, screamed at me as she scrambled around the kitchen for more things to throw at the monster.
Reminded I wasn’t part of the audience in this life-or-death struggle, I cast my Force Missile spell. Once again, I received a notification with an 84 percent synchronicity rate, more than enough to deal the damage needed to end the imp. This time, when the Force Missile hit, it cracked the monster’s skull, leaving its corpse slumped against the sink. I groaned, sitting down as I stared at the blinking blue bar that indicated I had nearly no mana left.
Lesser Imp (Level 4) Defeated!
My benefactor was not taking the sudden change in fortunes in stride, instead having scooped up a pan to smash the dead monster around a few more times. Only when it did not attempt to defend itself did she stop. Chantelle stood over the dead monster, long, black hair disheveled and white blouse popped open, green blood staining it. When she turned to me, eyes sparkling with fury, her lips pulled into a snarl.
“You! You were hired to fix the problem, not make it worse,” she snapped as she stalked toward me, waving the bloody pot in her hand. A piece of pasta, resiliently holding on against the tyranny of gravity, finally succumbed and dropped to the ground, landing by her feet. This, thankfully, made her pause in her tirade long enough for me to get a word in.
“Sorry! I… it was just supposed to be a level-four imp!” I spluttered as I pushed myself up, my chest aching as I breathed. Damn demon had fists like boulders.
“What do you mean ‘level four’?” the raven-haired proprietress said, shaking her head. “Look at this mess. You’re going to cost us more to have the place fixed up than the damage the imp was doing!”
At Chantelle’s accusation, I slowly—very slowly as my neck and head were still throbbing—surveyed the room. Shattered glassware, spilled food, a few broken cupboards, and a hole in the microwave from an errant Force Missile greeted my eyes in quick succession.
“Sorry… I’ll, ummm…”
“We’re taking the imp’s body. And don’t expect to get paid!”
“But… I—”
A quick shake of the pot was enough to make me back down. A few more apologies and I finally managed to extricate myself from the kitchen and Rossi’s, her family restaurant, without being beaten to death. Outside, I paused for a second to take in the beautiful, clear day and breathed in the clear, clean air. On the opposite side of the street, a few others stared at me strangely, basking in the sunlight, including a bespectacled teenager who was actually glaring. I had to smile as I relaxed and shook off the berating I had received. I was alive and learning magic. What else could I ask for?
***
As I got out of my Ryde and tapped my phone to acknowledge having been dropped off, I found myself grateful I’d decided to skip biking. My head throbbed, my back spasmed, and I found myself fumbling my keys to my basement suite. I kicked the door closed behind me, whimpered at the loud noise, and crashed on my futon.
When I woke up later that evening, almost all my injuries were healed once again. A quick perusal of the notifications explained things to me.
Henry Alfred Chan Hock Tsien is well rested. +5% Experience Gain for 4 hours.
Henry Alfred Chan Hock Tsien has gained 37 health points due to resting.
Huh. I really needed to get Lily to stop messing with the notifications, but ever since she’d seen a bill with my full name, she’d been on this kick of putting it everywhere. As my stomach growled, I got up to throw a ready-made pizza in the oven. I turned my head to stare at the jinn who was hovering over my computer. I had thought picking up a second laptop for myself would have freed up a computer for my use. Instead, Lily had just decided to take them both over and was running two different games at the same time.
“That was not a level-four imp,” I grumped at Lily. Silence lingered for so long I thought she might not have heard me, punctuated only by the tapping on the keyboard and click of her mouse.
“Yes, it was,” Lily said. “You just suck at fighting.”
“I’m supposed to be good at it?” I muttered, shaking my head. The imp had been my second combat quest, and I had to admit, she was right. At least I hadn’t gotten bitten, but it wasn’t as if I’d ever had any real experience fighting for my life. Scraps with schoolyard bullies and the occasional mugging did not count after all. I wasn’t a soldier or police officer or a martial artist. I was just a guy who liked computer and role-playing games and had found a magic ring.
“You ready for the next one?” Lily asked. “Goddamn noob, do your job…”
“Ummm…” I glared at Lily, but since she wasn’t bothering to look up, the glare did just about nothing. In the end, I gave up. “You know, I’m new at this, but calling me a noob is a little rude.”
“Not you. It’s this damn cleric. Can’t heal for shit. I’m dying here,” Lily said, a hand briefly waving at her game. She turned her head to the side, eyeing the other game before returning to the one she was focused on. It seemed in the second game, she was flying some spaceship that was moving on autopilot, stars shifting as she kept turning and jumping. “Though, if the shoe fits…”
“Whatever,” I growled. “You said you have a new quest?”
“Take your pick,” Lily said, pointing to a pile of papers. I frowned, walking to them, picking them up, and scanning the headlines.
Persistent Slime Mold is Eating Away My Floors. Clean It Out! $200
Leprechaun Escapee. Capture and Return. No Corpses! 185 Gold Coins and a Brindell Tulip
Become a Hellhound Trainer! No Special Skills Required. We Will Train on the Job! Fair Compensation.
The Grey Angels Hospice is Looking for Healers! Volunteer Your Time with Our Great Staff and Residents.
Required – an Experienced Exorcist! $350
Gremlin Squatter Removal. $500
I stared at the printouts, a sneaking suspicion confirmed when I looked at the web address printed on the top. “Is this a classifieds website?”
“Mmmhmmm… hey! Give that back,” Lily shouted a moment later as I pulled my new laptop onto my lap.
“Hush.” I tabbed away from her game. Within seconds, I was at the site. Or what would have been the site if not for a big “Password Protected” sign. A couple seconds of fumbling indicated Lily had not saved her password either. “How do I get in?”
“You don’t,” Lily said, tapping furiously at her keyboard for a few seconds before turning to me. “That’s way too much responsibility for you right now.”
“Oh, come on. I’m just going to browse it.”
“Too dangerous.”
“Browsing?” I said. “I promise not to download any viruses.”
“And how about spells, demonic entities, and mana taps?”
“Uhhh…” I paused, pushing the laptop away from me slightly. “Demons can come through the web?” That just sounded like a bad B-movie setup.
“Not normally, but that website isn’t on the normal Internet. It’s a separate dimensional nexus that the supernatural use, and the defenses that have been applied against such incursions are relaxed there. Otherwise, only entities on this dimension could post on it,” Lily said.
At her words, I edged even farther away from my laptop, my eyes wide. “There are other-dimensional beings posting on that!? Like gods and demons and Lovecraft monsters?”
“And angels. Jinn. Fae. Dragons. Ice giants,” Lily continued on. “Of course there are. Merl’s Web is the most popular communication form right now. Not that there aren’t competing sites, but Merl seems to have kept up with the times.”
“Merl… Merlin?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yes. The old codger might be trapped, but he’s still got his hand in the pie.” Lily shook her head. “Once I got back in touch with him, he pointed me to the site.”
“Merlin’s alive.” I sat with a thump, staring at Lily. You’d think that after months of all this, I would have gotten used to being surprised. But still… “And Arthur?”
“Dead. Or sleeping. Don’t know. You’d have to ask Merl. Not that he’s talking.” Lily shrugged her shoulders. “He’s, you know, a bit annoyed about all that.”
“How about Lancelot? Gawain? The Green Knight? The Holy Grail?”
“Ques-ting,” Lily drawled and pointed to the papers again.
I growled softly, but even repeated prodding had her repeating the same word again and again. Eventually, I gave up and went over the quests available. A good half of them seemed to involve killing, finding, or eradicating something. There were no “fetch” quests, probably because I received more than enough of those from El, who at least knew enough to give me exact directions. It wasn’t as if I knew where to find fairy dust or three-eyed spotted mushrooms. In the end, I highlighted a couple I was willing to do and handed them to Lily.
“Right. Out then. Once I get details, you’ll know.”
“That’s it?” I frowned, having expected, well, more details now.
“Yes. Now shoo. We’re running the Virtuous Grotto, and I don’t need you bothering me,” Lily said, waving me away.
Kicked out of my apartment, I grabbed my jacket on the way out. Ah well, maybe El had something interesting.
***
After making my way to Nora’s, I found El seated at the counter, smiling cheerfully at an unexpected mundane customer. I watched El for a second, my gaze unfocused to see her as her glamour rather than her true form before refocusing my eyes. I had to admire the svelte figure she cut, at least underneath her glamour. Though I had to wonder, what did it look like if someone saw me checking her out and was unable to see through her glamor? On the other hand, one could never tell with others’ tastes.
“Henry?” Her voice brought me out of my ruminations, and I realized her customer had left. “Did you need something?”
“No.” I shook my head. Then, girding up my courage, I stepped up to the counter, flashing her a smile. “Actually—”
“No.”
“You didn’t even—”
“Henry, I’m four hundred and thirty-six years old. I know what you were going to ask. And the answer is no,” El said and smiled at me gently.
“Well, ummmm…” I paused, staring at El. I felt slightly deflated at having my advances shot down even before I’d gotten started. I looked around, awkward now, as I kicked myself for even trying. I should have known better. After all, El had never indicated any interest in me before beyond a general kindly interest in my well-being. Pretty much what you’d expect a big sister to show a little brother in fact.
“It’s not personal, Henry. I might only be a lesser fae, but I am fae. I’ll live for thousands of years, and well, as a human mage…” El said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s better this way.”
“Oh…” I nodded slightly. I guess that made sense. I mean, the elves in the Lord of the Rings series were like that too. And I was no Aragorn.
“So, is there anything else you came in for?”
“Not really. I actually thought you might have something for me to do,” I answered, looking back up to see El smiling at me patiently.
“Mmmm… not sure I need to remodel the shop yet.”
I winced. “You heard about that.”
“Just a little. Showing you around kind of tied you to me,” El said.
“Yeah, sorry about that. The imp was tougher than I thought,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“It’s fine. Used to be you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting a magical troubleshooter. Now, everyone wants to be an office mage or animator or enchanter,” El said, shaking her head. “I guess it works out for you though—otherwise no one would hire you.”
“Thanks?” I shook my head again. “Anyway, did you have anything you need me to help with?”
“Actually,” El said, smiling slightly and reaching under the counter. In her hand when she lifted it was a simple, brown-paper-wrapped package.
I took it automatically, jiggling it slightly and noting a clink of glass containers before I slid it into my black messenger bag.
“Don’t do that! What if it was salamander spit?”
“Ummm…”
“It’s highly explosive.” El sighed.
“So, is it?”
“No. And you shouldn’t be asking what’s in the packages. You know that,” El said exasperatedly, shaking her head. “It’s arthritis rub for Grandma Gail.” A quick scribble and she handed me the address on a Post-it note.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to know what was in there,” I said.
“You’re not normally, but you’re going to need to know for this. Now, be polite and nice. You’re going into orc territory.” El held a finger up. “Just tell them what and who you’re delivering for, and they’ll leave you alone. Got it?”
“You sell to orcs?” I asked incredulously.
“I sell arthritis medicine to everyone,” El said. “What, you think I should let Grandma Gail suffer because she’s green and tusky?”
“No…” I said, stepping back at the heat in El’s voice.
“Get it through your head, Henry. This isn’t your fantasy books. These are people with their own hopes and dreams and lives. We’re just people trying to get by in a world that isn’t necessarily set up for us.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” I said. At El’s nod, I backed out and headed off to do her little courier job. Head hunched, I pulled out my phone and punched in the address to work out the fastest way to do this. One day, I’d get a car, but that would have to wait till I had a more regular and consistent source of income, one that did not rely on charity and magical windfalls.
***
Faircreek in the southwestern part of the city once hosted the city’s docks. In the 1960s, the city had rebuilt the docks farther downriver, outside of the city proper, to handle the additional business. Now, Faircreek was a mixture of rundown warehouses, squat concrete buildings, and crumbling docks along with a few over-burdened homeless shelters. Dotted throughout the neighborhood were failed attempts at revitalization, the scenic concrete-and-grass walkways along the river unkept and not cleaned, a pair of soaring condos looming over their older cousins. It was no place to go if you weren’t a resident, the natural resting place for those who had nowhere else to go.
Not surprisingly, even though I’d lived in the city my whole life, I’d only been down this way twice—once entirely by accident, the second on an ill-advised attempt at a hip-hop concert to impress a date. As I sat on the worn-down upholstery of the bus, waiting for my stop, I stared at the residents with new eyes, El’s words still ringing in my mind.
Hunched over, hooded figures slunk from corner to corner, hands in baggy clothing. Under hoods, I caught glimpses of inhuman features—snouts, whiskers, fur, and more. Many had the barest of glamours on, just enough to pass a cursory inspection. Interestingly enough, most glamours showed the individuals as minorities. Perhaps most surprisingly was their number, one in seven, one in eight of those on the streets were inhuman—a higher percentage by far than anywhere else.
We’re just people trying to get by in a world that isn’t necessarily set up for us.
How hard was life for a supernatural if your funds had to go to not only food but glamour as well? If you had to cover up, hide your identity to survive? If the assholes who were casting glamour spells decided it cost “extra” to make you not look like a minority? I’d stumbled across magic and lucked out finding the golden ring, taking power by choice. Many of those I saw on the streets, they’d never had a choice.
They were somber thoughts to think as I got off the bus and glanced at my phone one last time. I walked the streets to my destination, idly noting I was a good six blocks away.
As I walked, I tried to remember all the hints about safely traversing a bad neighborhood I had ever read. Walk with purpose and keep looking around, but don’t make eye contact for too long. Avoid touching, but don’t act scared. You’d think that wielding magic would have made this walk easier, but now that I could see the scales, furs, and tusks of the denizens of this city, it really didn’t. It didn’t help that I probably shone like a beacon to everyone else too.
I was two-thirds of the way to my destination before I encountered my first problem. A group of orcs, hanging out on the corner in hoodies, torn jeans, and leather gloves, stared at me as I neared them. The stares intensified even as I stepped to the side in an attempt to go around the group, an attempt that was foiled by a large, blocky body.
“What you doing here, Wizard?” The blocker stood in front of me, glaring down at my form.
“Uh…” I blinked and gulped, stepping back. That was a mistake as the orc stepped forward immediately, continuing to crowd me.
“Well? This ain’t your neighborhood.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but my throat closed with fear. While a part of me knew I was probably—probably—fine due to Lily’s wish, all my lizard brain knew was that there were a half dozen large, green, and very muscular figures looking at me aggressively. A pair of hands came up and shoved me backward, sending me stumbling back into a figure I hadn’t even realized was behind me.
“You going to say something, boy?”
“Delivery,” I croaked out and then cleared my throat, trying again as I pulled myself straight. “Delivery for El. From El. For Grandma… ummmm…” Shit. My mind blanked on her name, the rush of adrenaline making my hands clammy. The looming figures and the casual bump against my shoulder as they crowded me made my breath tighten.
“Grandma…?” One of the orcs snorted before another smacked him on the arm with the back of his hand.
“You delivering the medicine for Grandma Gail?” the smackee asked, and I nodded in dumb relief. “Should have said so.” A quick set of hand waves had the orcs stepping back, giving me breathing room. Without even waiting for me to recover, the speaker had already started walking. “Sorry about that. El never told us she was using a wizard for delivery.”
“It’s fine. I’m new,” I muttered, relief washing through my body as we walked toward our destination.
“Oh, shit,” the orc muttered just before the loud blare of a siren went off behind us.
Cruising to a stop, a police car stopped us half a block from the apartment building I was to make the delivery at. Inwardly, I cursed, getting nervous once more. It was strange how I could get nervous even if I was doing nothing wrong in the presence of police.
From out of the police car came an elf, a damn elf with pointed ears, long hair, gleaming teeth, and a smirk. A human, who glowed just like me, came to stand beside me. I frowned, staring at the pair, and after a moment, their information finally populated.
Police Elf (Level 28)
Police Mage (Level 32)
“What do we have here?” the elf said, smirking at us as he walked toward us. The orc was standing beside me, hands held to the side and away from his body, his face fixed. “A wizard and an orc walking down the street.”
“Uhhh…” I said and then decided to clamp my mouth shut. Surprising fact about having conversations about the supernatural in public—no one cared. Between fantasy movies, LARPers and just normal human self-conceit, the occasional overheard conversation was easily dismissed. Still, most supernaturals weren’t this blatant. Then again, this wasn’t exactly your normal suburban neighborhood either.
“Witch got your tongue, Wizard?” the elf said, staring at me, baton suddenly in his hand. He moved so smoothly and quickly I didn’t see it again until it was under my chin and pushing my head up. A hot flash of anger went through me, but I forced it down.
“Just doing a delivery,” I said hoarsely, fighting the roiling emotions of anger, shame, and fear running through me. Damn it.
A hand went to my bag, and I automatically moved to push it aside. A second later, I found myself on the ground, a knee ground into the small of my back, one hand outstretched and the other curled around my body, pain radiating from my knee and chin where I had been slammed into the ground when the human had tossed me down.
“Trying to stop us from doing our job, are you?” A crank on my arm made me grunt in pain. The strap of my bag was pulled aside, and I felt the tension suddenly release, the bag pulled out from underneath me not too gently.
“I wasn’t—”
“Lying to a police officer. Tsk…” the mage said, shaking his head. “I hate your kind. Thinking you’re all something because you learned a little magic.”
“I—”
“Shut up,” the orc growled at me and then released a sudden exhalation of breath shortly after a meaty thunk.
I couldn’t turn my head, and any attempt at moving resulted in another shooting pain from my arm.
“Andy, Andy, Andy, I thought you knew better,” the elf said mockingly. I heard the clasp of my bag open and then the noise of the contents of my bag hitting the ground. The muffled thunk of the package, my notebook, and the rest of the random crap that I kept in my bag reached my ears. A short while later, I heard the tearing of paper before a dull thunk of glass on concrete. I found myself exhaling in thanks that all of El’s packages were in ultra-tough, enchanted containers. “What is this? Hmmm…?”
A sharp jab in my back made me arch slightly.
“We’re talking to you, Wizard,” the mage said.
“Arthritis remedy,” I said through stolen breaths.
“Really?” Indistinct noises and a loud sniff later, an open bottle landed on the ground next to me along with its lid and the remaining bottles. “Smells like shit. You peddling shit, Wizard?”
“I’m just bringing it for El,” I said.
“El, El, El… that little troublesome pixie,” the elf muttered. “I thought she knew better than to deal with scum like this. Well, I guess we’ll just have to do something about that.”
“What?” I asked as I twisted my head around. The mage let me do so briefly before he reapplied pressure, forcing me to look on futilely as the elf raised his booted foot and came down on the bottle. It shattered under his boot, his foot rising again. Anger flashed through me, at the mage and the elf and the damn orc who just stood there…
The elf raised his foot again to smash another bottle. “Now, be sure to tell El—”
“That’s enough, Quinn,” a low, husky, and dangerous voice said from the opposite side of my head. “You’ve had your fun.”
“Marc,” the elf said, sudden wariness in his voice. I could feel the mage above me shift his weight, turning toward the newcomer.
“Let him go,” the same voice growled, and my arm was released. Footsteps shifted, and as I sat up slowly, rubbing my shoulder, I noted the policemen had backed off, staring at the newcomer. I turned my head to look as well and had to agree—the newcomer was definitely worth staring at. Where Andy, my erstwhile guide, had been big, the newcomer could have fronted for an NFL team at nearly seven feet tall and nearly half again as broad. Behind the newcomer was another trio of orcs, none as large as he was but only by a hairbreadth.
“Just making sure the wizard knows what’s what,” the elf said, smirking still. However, I noticed the pair had their hands near their guns now and were, in fact, moving back to their car easily. “No harm done.”
Under the watchful eyes of the orcs, the pair of policeman left. I pulled together my bag, stuffed everything together, and held the broken straps in hand while my emotions raged. I could Mend them, but unlike some, I preferred to keep my magic to quieter and less public locations.
“Well, boy? You going to make your delivery?” the orc snapped at me, and I blinked, nodding quickly. I moved forward, hesitating for a second when he held a hand up to Andy to stop him from coming with me. A quick look told me his signal wasn’t for me, and so I headed up the stairs.
You’d think after all that, that Grandma Gail was some mythical, powerful shaman or the power behind the throne. Instead, Grandma Gail was exactly what you’d have expected of a grandmother—old, bent, wrinkled, and in this case, green. She was more than grateful for the delivery and completely forgiving about the single broken bottle. Two hours later, filled with tea and cookies, I tottered out of the grateful orc’s neat apartment, surprised to see Andy waiting for me.
“Andy?”
“I’ll walk you back,” Andy said and then held his hand out.
Taking the dollar bills from him automatically, I frowned as I stared at them.
“For El. For the broken bottle.”
“Uhh…” I paused, unsure.
“Just take it. I should have seen them coming,” Andy said, and I nodded dumbly as I fell into step with him.
“They do that often?” I asked.
“Every chance they get. Fucking pigs like to hassle us,” Andy said, shaking his head. “They pick on us in particular because, well, you know.”
Because they were orcs. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Andy growled at me, and I winced, ducking my head. After a moment, Andy shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah. Assholes,” I grumbled, running my finger over the mended strap. Even now, I could feel the slight raises and bumpiness from the Mend spell. At least I was getting better with the spell. Still, a part of me twisted at how easily I’d rolled over. But what was I supposed to do? They were cops. And higher levels than me. In sullen silence, the pair of us made our way back to the bus stop where we stood, brooding over our respective failures. The bus, when it arrived, found us still standing in silence.
“Take care, Wizard. Try not to get beaten up by cops again, eh?” Andy said, waving goodbye as I got on.
I had to chuckle slightly, nodding back to Andy. Well, that had been enlightening and humbling, if somewhat less than useful for my leveling. Then again, perhaps not all experience needed to come with levels.
***
Hours later, I was back home. Lily, surprisingly, was not on the computer but standing over the oven. I eyed the dark-haired genie as she stirred a pot of instant noodles and then walked to my computers without a word. On them, blue screens showed the software had updated. That was one mystery easily solved.
“Lily,” I said, walking over to lean against a cupboard. “Wanted to ask you about something.”
“Sure,” Lily said, eyes raking over me.
I quickly explained my encounter with the orcs and the cops, finishing with: “How come the cops were able to touch me? I mean, they were obviously out of level.”
“Thought it might be that,” Lily said, tapping her spoon against the pot before she carefully poured the contents into a waiting bowl. “The answer is that the encounter was a social challenge, not a physical one.”
“Felt pretty physical to me,” I grumbled, rubbing my still-sore shoulder.
“Only because you failed your social check,” Lily said, looking up at me.
“I don’t really get that you know,” I said. “I mean, what makes it a social encounter rather than a physical one? Aren’t most encounters social till, well, they’re not?”
“Mmmm… yes.” Lily paused and then waved a hand to the computers before she returned to stirring the bowl. “But we’re talking about your wish and the way I set it up. And I did it by watching the games. If you run into a city and start ganking the guards, you don’t expect to get away with it, do you? Same thing here. The police, most legal authorities, are going to be exempt.”
“But those guys were assholes,” I said, grumbling. “It’d have been nice if they couldn’t have grabbed me.”
“And then what?” Lily said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think the fact that they couldn’t touch you would deescalate the situation? Make them decide to pack it up and go away?”
“It did for the mage,” I said.
“Uh huh. And we both know he’ll be back—or someone like him.” Lily shook her head. “You don’t want the authorities getting wind of you. Especially the mundane ones.”
“I guess,” I said. I looked at Lily, eyes narrowed as I voiced my other suspicion. “Still, rather convenient that the wish failed then. It must have been pretty elaborate programming for you to have set that up.”
“Wasn’t set up. I made the call once I saw it happening,” Lily said, confirming my suspicion.
“You can do that?”
“Of course.” Lily pointed to my hand and her ring that sat on it. “I’m still linked to the ring. So long as you wear it, I’ll always have some awareness of you and your surroundings, ensuring encounters happen logically and according to your wish is part of my job after all.”
“Huh,” I said, nodding slowly. Well, that made sense, and it was what I’d signed up for. Still, knowing Lily was spying on me was just a little creepy. Then again, after a while I’d gotten used to the great god Google tracking my searches and where I traveled every day. How was this any different really? “Hey, why didn’t they do something about my ring? I mean, those guys seemed like the kind who’d steal them.”
“The ring has an obscuration enchantment on it. You’d have to be significantly more powerful before you could pierce it,” Lily answered promptly.
“Like the mage,” I said and got a confirming nod. “Then, El?”
“We walked through her wards into her place of power,” Lily said, and I nodded. It still didn’t explain why Lily never showed El’s level to me, but I left that for now. I’d asked before and never gotten a satisfactory answer.
“We done? Because my food’s getting cold.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved her back to her life as I wandered to the pile of quest notes. Might as well check out what else she had found.