David Coe - Spell Blind

“Teach it to me anyway.”

It was a complicated spell. Impressive, but complicated. My father had found a way to combine two different kinds of transporting spells, one which allowed him to move himself a short distance, and another which in effect transported an object-in this case his weapon-to his hand. The trick, of course, was to carry off the two spells simultaneously, so that he could go from being unarmed and vulnerable to being armed and protected in the blink of an eye.

Try as I might, I couldn’t do it. It was good practice. After several tries, I’d nearly mastered a basic transporting spell. But my pistol always wound up lying on the floor in the spot where I’d been. I gave up on that one for the time being, vowing to practice it on my own later. Namid had other spells to teach me, and for once I was eager to learn. Maybe it was the stark memory of feeling so vulnerable on the street earlier in the day. Maybe it was hearing that my father had been better at this than I was. Whatever the reason, on this night I worked my craft as I never had before.

I was in the middle of trying a new assailing spell when I heard a knock at the door. Namid’s glowing gaze locked on mine.

“Are you expecting someone?” the runemyste asked.

“No.” I glanced at my watch. Almost nine-thirty. We’d been working for close to three hours. Whoever it was knocked again. I stood and started toward the door.

“Careful, Ohanko.”

I glanced at him and nodded. Then I crossed to the door, unlocked it, and prepared to pull it open, all the while reciting a shielding spell in my head.

But when I pulled the door open, I found myself face to face with Billie Castle. Looking past her, I saw that the street and sidewalk were wet. It had rained while I was working with Namid. Seems my dad was right about that wind after all. The sky had cleared and the gibbous moon shone through the Acacia tree growing in my front yard. Even from the doorway, I could feel the moon’s pull, more insistent than last night, hinting at the power to come. Friday night. That’s when the phasing would begin.

Billie opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped herself, seeming to take in my appearance. Only now did I realize that I had sweated through my shirt and that my face was damp. Working spells for hours on end was hard work.

“Good God, Fearsson, what have you been doing?”

“Um. . Working out.”

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“Sure.” I opened the screen door and she stepped past me into the house. I glanced at the moon one last time, then closed the door. Billie turned a full circle, surveying the living room, and stared right through Namid, who couldn’t be seen by those not descended from the Runeclave.

“Nice place.”

“Thank you. You want anything? Water? Coffee? Beer? Wine?”

“No, thanks.” She faced me. “You certainly took off in a hurry this afternoon.”

I shrugged, scrutinizing my coffee table as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Boy, I expected you to be tougher than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” she said, and now it was her turn to avoid my gaze. “I had the feeling that maybe you were, I don’t know, interested in me. You certainly were flirting and, well, you started to ask me out to dinner, and. .” She shrugged, her eyes meeting mine again. “And then Joel shows up, and you run away like a frightened little boy.”

“Joel?”

She began to walk a slow circle around the room. “Joel Benfield. He’s one of my contributing writers. He teaches history at the university and writes about environmental issues and Western politics.”

“I’m sure he’s very nice. And I wasn’t frightened, I was just-”

“You assumed that he and I were already involved.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

She stopped right in front of me. I hadn’t noticed before that she smelled faintly of lavender, or that her eyes were actually two shades of green-forest green nearer the center, brightening to emerald around the edges.

“Boy, Fearsson,” she said. “I sure hope you’re better at detective work than you are at figuring me out.”

I grinned. “Fearsson. Is that what you’ve decided to call me?”

“I’m thinking about it. You mind?”

“No,” I said with a small shake of my head. “I like it.”

“So are you going to take me out to dinner tomorrow night?”

I laughed. “I don’t know. Are we still off the record?”

“Until we say otherwise.”

“Then I guess I am.”

“Good. Come by my house at six.”

“Where’s your house?”

“In Tempe,” she said. “Near Cyprus Park.” She crossed to my telephone table, found a pad and pen, and wrote down her address. “Here,” she said handing me the paper. “Do I need to pin this to your shirt?”

“No, I think I’ll manage to hold onto to it for twenty-four hours.”

“Good.” She crossed to the door and pulled it open.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I found your house, for God’s sake. Do I have to figure out everything?”

“Fine. Six o’clock.”

“Don’t be late,” she said, stepping outside.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

I watched her walk back to her car, waved once as she started up and pulled away from the curb, and closed the door. Turning, I saw that Namid was watching me.

“What?” I said.

“You should be concentrating. You might well be in danger. The woman is a distraction.”

“Distractions can be a good thing now and then.”

The runemyste frowned.

Before he could say anything more, the phone rang. I recognized the number on the caller ID. Kona, at 620.

I switched on the phone. “You’re working late,” I said, not bothering with a hello.

“Don’t give me any crap, Justis. I’m not in the mood.”

“Sorry. What’s up?”

“Mike Gann has formally been charged with Claudia Deegan’s murder.”

“Damnit, Kona! He didn’t do it! There’s no way he’s the Blind Angel Killer!”

“I believe you,” she said, lowering her voice. “But it’s not like I can tell Hibbard that my friend the weremyste, the person he hates more than anyone else in the world, told me Gann’s not our guy, so we should let him go.”

I exhaled. “I know that.”

“What did you find out from Orestes?”

I winced, feeling guilty for the time I’d spent with Billie. “I haven’t seen him yet. I went to Robo’s and talked with a guy who’d worked with Gann. This guy knew that Gann was a weremyste, but what he told me confirmed what I saw in the interview room today: Gann’s not powerful or skilled enough to be a threat to anyone. I can’t talk to the manager until Thursday, but I’m not convinced that anything he’ll tell me will change my mind.”

“So you talked to one guy at Robo’s?” Kona said. “What have you been doing with yourself all afternoon?”

I felt my cheeks burning and was glad she wasn’t here to see me.

“Justis?”

“I had a. . well, sort of a. . a date.”

“No shit?”

I grinned. “No shit.”

“Well, give me some details. You know Margarite’s going to ask me, and I have to have something to tell her.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with her name.”

“Her name’s Billie. Billie Castle.”

“Huh. You mean like that blogger-lady?”

“Just like her.”

“Are you dating a celebrity?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I am.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s. . I don’t know. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she’s pushy and opinionated and stubborn. You’d like her.”