David Coe - Spell Blind

“You will?” Even on this night, my mind drifting again, I knew how unusual an offer this was.

Namid lowered himself to the floor. To the ground. Sun reflected off his waters. He appeared calmer now, more at peace. “I can guard your sleep, keep the moon from intruding too much, as I am doing now. You will sleep.”

“Why would you do this?”

Again he shook his head. “Tomorrow. Sleep now.”

The sun shone overhead, and bees buzzed in the clover and cinquefoil. I lay down where I was, my head cushioned in fresh grass, and I slept.

Another reason I didn’t like to sleep during the phasings: waking up during the full of the moon was a bit like waking up after a night of heavy drinking. I wasn’t sick to my stomach, but my head felt thick and dull, and my muscles were stiff. I’d left the light on all night, and my face felt weird where it had been pressed into the bedroom carpet. If I was going to sleep, why the hell hadn’t I climbed into bed?

I sat up, rubbed a hand through my tangled hair. Namid sat cross-legged on the floor a few feet away. His face and body like glass, his eyes bright.

“Ohanko. You slept well?”

“What are you-?” Memories of the night before flashed through my mind, vivid and terrifying. “Crap,” I whispered. “It was real, wasn’t it? He was here, in my house.”

“Yes. It was real.”

“And you know him,” I said. It came out as an accusation.

“Yes.”

“Yesterday, when I told you that the guy was French, and I repeated the name I’d heard Shari Bettancourt use, you knew right away, didn’t you? You disappeared pretty quickly to check it out, but you already knew.”

“I did not know for certain, but yes, I had some idea that it was the man you saw here last night.”

I said nothing, but stared back at him, waiting.

“His name is Etienne de Cahors. He was a druid in Gaul during what you would call the early dark ages. At one time he was a member of my council, but over the centuries he grew resistive. Eventually he began to challenge our adherence to the Runeclave’s directives. He was particularly dissatisfied with his inability to use magic directly on your world.”

“You mean he’s a runemyste?” I asked.

“He was.”

“Tell me there’s some good news in this, Namid.”

“There is not. Somehow he has managed to master the magic that first created him. He has assumed corporeal form and is now free to roam your world. But he retains something of what he used to be. That is why I have been able to keep him out of your home. He. . well, you would say that he changed the rules.”

I remembered Namid saying something similar to Cahors the night before.

“And you guys allowed this to happen?” It was the first thing that came to mind, and I knew as soon as I said it that it wasn’t fair, not when one considered all the stupid things we humans had managed to do to the world on our own. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“You should not apologize. The Council has asked the same question of itself, and the answer is simple: yes, we allowed this to happen. He has made his displeasure known for a long time. We should have been vigilant and we were not.”

“We allowed it, too,” I said. “That’s what he was doing when he was killing those kids. He was gathering power from them somehow, and using it to break free of what he was. If we’d caught him sooner, we might have stopped him.”

“Maybe. Or he might have killed you.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, my mind still struggling to keep up with all he’d told me. “He’s one of you? How come I’m still alive? He should have been able to kill me with a thought. You could, right?”

“As always, Ohanko, you simplify things too much, and you make them too complicated as well. You are most difficult. Yes, my kind are powerful, which is why we place limits on ourselves, limits Cahors has rejected. But you have powers of your own. Your wardings, while still crude and weak, can offer you some protection.”

“Is this supposed to reassure me?”

“It is supposed to inform you. Cahors has become something other than a runemyste. We do not know what exactly. But in winning his freedom from the limitations placed on our powers he has weakened himself. Not a great deal, and not forever, but enough it seems to have saved your life a few nights ago. And perhaps again last night.”

I nodded, considering this. “All right,” I said at last. “Then what do I do?”

“I am not sure that you can do anything,” he said, sounding surprised by the question.

“Then what are you going to do?”

“He is part of your world now-”

“So you’re not allowed to kill him. You weren’t even allowed to ward my house, were you? The rules haven’t really changed. You were just telling him that.”

“Attacking you in the moon-time is. . not fair,” he said, an admission of sorts. “I could not allow that.”

“Not fair,” I repeated, chuckling to myself. “And Kona called me a piece of work.”

We both fell silent. I tried to kick my brain into gear. Despite Namid’s doubts, I knew that we had to stop Cahors, and we had to do it soon. Last night, facing Namid, he’d run up against the limits of his power, and he wouldn’t be happy about that at all. He was going to kill again in two weeks, when the moon reached its first quarter, and he’d be coming after me before then. I knew too much about him now; he couldn’t have me around alerting other weremystes to the danger.

“He’s still more like you than he is like me,” I said, the thought coming to me with unexpected clarity.

“What do you mean?”

“The phasing didn’t bother him at all, just as it doesn’t bother you.”

Namid regarded me with interest. “True.”

“Which means that, comparatively speaking, I’m more of a match for him now than I will be at any other time. That’s why my spell worked last night. The phasings are hard on me, but they also make me stronger.”

“Even with that, you are not ready to face him. In time, yes. But not yet.”

“Then tell me who is. Because we have to do something. I’ve been watching kids die for three years now, and there hasn’t been a damn thing I could do about it. Now I know who’s responsible and I’m not going to let him kill again!”

I got up and walked out into the living room. I faltered at the sight of it, having forgotten about Red’s magical bomb. But I recovered quickly, went to my jacket and shoulder holster, which were draped over a kitchen chair. I halted at the sight of the empty holster; I’d have to get my Glock from Kona. That was going to be a fun conversation.

When I turned, I saw that Namid had followed me.

“Your weapon-” he began.

“. . Probably won’t kill him,” I said. “I know. But the other day I took a shot at him and he deflected the bullet.”

“And next time you shoot at him he will do the same. It is not difficult magic.”

“Would you do it?” I asked.

He hesitated. I couldn’t help but smile. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d outthought the runemyste. Okay, I could count them on one finger.

“You wouldn’t have to, would you?” I said. “If I shot at you the bullet would pass right through you; we both know it would. But as you said, he’s taken corporeal form. He might not be scared of my weapon, but he can’t ignore it, either. Not anymore.”

“Most interesting, Ohanko. I had not thought of this.”

“If I manage to shoot him, he’ll be able to heal himself, right?”

“I would expect so.”

“But he’ll have to focus his magic on doing that. How many spells can he maintain at once?”