Devon Monk - Magic on the Storm

“Pretty much,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, about that beer.”

“If I could please have your attention.”

I glanced at the front of the room. Victor, trim and gray-haired, stood behind the long table, an open laptop in front of him. His suit jacket hung on the back of the chair, along with his tie, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Even from this distance, I could see that his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he’d just been through the longest meeting of his life, and been elected to stand up and give everyone the bad news.

Maeve, looking more composed and refreshed than Victor, sat to his left. Next to her was Liddy Salberg, a quiet, mousy woman, who took plain to the extreme. I’d first seen her at my dad’s burial. She’d also been at my test, and she’d since been my teacher in Death magic. I never seemed to get a good read off her body language. That mousy exterior hid something else-I was sure of it-though I’d never seen her be anything but polite and professional.

Still, I got the impression that she didn’t like me, or that I made her nervous.

At her left was Sedra, the head of the Authority in Portland. Always cool, always portrait-perfect, her unchanging expression and porcelain complexion made her look like she was carved out of marble. Only her blue eyes gave her a hint of life. Her bodyguard, Dane Lannister, stood behind her, looking how he always looked: relaxed and deadly. There was something about him that made me pause, like a bad taste in my mouth, but try as I might, I couldn’t think of what it was about him that bothered me.

Instead, I wondered who usually filled the empty seat next to Sedra, wondered if perhaps it had been my father.

Interestingly, Jingo Jingo, who usually made himself a part of any gathering, was nowhere to be seen.

Weird.

“Please be seated, so we may begin,” Victor said.

Everyone made their way to seats, filling the tables ahead of us, and behind us.

“Please, please, please,” Shame whispered so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he said it or I imagined he did.

Zay and Terric walked toward us, a study in opposites, and yet both powerful, calm, confident. Terric angled to take the seat next to Paige. Zay sat next to me, shifting his chair so he could better see the front of the room.

“Exhale before your head explodes,” Zay said quietly. “He’s not coming to the table.”

Shame exhaled.

Victor began speaking. “As many of you have heard, we have an unprecedented warning that a wild-magic storm will be hitting the Portland area soon. We think it will strike within the next forty-eight hours. That gives us some time to coordinate our efforts and work together against this threat.”

He paused, taking the time to make some eye contact. I’d seen my dad do that when he was facing a hostile audience. While Victor did that, I glanced at the body language within my range of sight.

Tight. Pensive. Maybe not explosive but damn close. Pretty much the same as when I’d walked in.

I’d already figured that these people were secretive and suspicious. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized that these people barely tolerated one another.

Neat.

That brewing war? I’d put my bet on the table that it was done brewing. All it needed now was a spark to set it off.

My stomach clenched as I realized the war might already be on, and lines might already be drawn as to who should use magic, and how it should be used. And I had no idea who wanted what, nor whose side I was on.

I reached back in my head to see if Dad had something to say about all this, but he had been quiet as a corpse-ha, not funny-ever since I walked through that door.

I had the feeling he didn’t much want to give Liddy or Jingo Jingo or anyone else an excuse to go digging around in my head looking for him.

Victor was done with the eye-contact pause.

“Our largest concern for the citizens of the area is that the wild magic will interrupt, or warp, the spells already in place in the city. We’ve compiled a detailed list of businesses and services that we will monitor and protect, and prioritized them from the most vital to the least, and divided that by the quadrants of the city. Since St. Johns has no conduits for magic, we’ll just need to cover four of the five quadrants.”

He glanced down at the laptop, then back up. “I know many of you have. . vested concerns in the way magic is made available to the public. Here in this city, and in others. Now is not the time to push those agendas forward. Loss of life has never been the Authority’s goal, and certainly now, more than any other time, a significant loss of life at the hand, influence, or neglect of a member of the Authority would carry dire consequences to any and all involved.”

Threats. There’s a neat way to ruin friendships and attract enemies.

“We’ve put together a suggested list of which businesses and services we’d like members to monitor. It’s been an. . exhausting few days.” He took a drink of water.

“This list isn’t perfect. I’m sure there will be changes. We’ll distribute it in a moment. Are there any questions so far?”

There were. About forty-five minutes of questions, most of them dealing with things I did not understand. It was like everyone had suddenly switched to a foreign language, half of which sounded like it dealt with magic, and the other half sounded like some kind of underground lingo.

“Should I be understanding any of this?”

Zay leaned back a bit. “It’s pretty standard elbowing and power plays for who gets to do what.”

He didn’t look concerned, so I took his lead and passed the time trying to remember names and what kinds of magic the people in the room preferred to use.

The gathered members of the Authority were pretty evenly split between the four disciplines-well, five if you counted the mix of magic and technology my dad had pushed into use.

But watching how they spoke to one another, or more so, how they didn’t speak or look at one another, I could see the tension, the cracks and fractures, between them, divided not by what magic they used but rather by who should use it, and how.

And I found it fascinating-no, frightening-that no one had mentioned that there was the very real possibility that the well was already being affected by the coming storm. The magic in it was being drained-maybe by the storm. Seemed to me that we had two potential disasters on the horizon.

Perhaps that went without saying.

It sucked to be the newest kid in the club. And I hadn’t even earned my decoder ring.

Sedra stood. Everyone watched her, waiting. It wasn’t exactly reverence, but more a shared acknowledgment that she would make the decisions they would all have to live with. For good and bad.

“We will set spells in place to further monitor vital systems and services throughout the city,” she said, her musical voice at contrast with her strict demeanor. “But until the storm hits, we wait.”

You couldn’t have quieted a room faster if you’d shoved a sock in every mouth.

Zayvion looked Zen on the outside, but inside he burned with anger.

“I thought it was agreed we would coordinate our efforts,” he said, his quiet voice filling the room.

“That,” Terric said, “is what I also understood. We would plan for the worst, and meet it head-on. We have time on our side for once. We can plan how to mitigate the magical onslaught.”

With every word Terric spoke, Shamus hunkered into himself, his hands tucked into his pockets, one shoulder hitched as if he could deflect the pain.

Sedra gave both men a cool, emotionless gaze. “Closers,” she said, like it was a dirty word she didn’t want in her mouth, “will need to watch for gates opening, for breaches between life and death. I expect you are willing to do your duty and abide by the wisdom of the Voices of the Authority?”