The magicians brother, p.14
The Magician's Brother, page 14
"Yes?" I prodded, not really all that concerned after the doctor's "he should be fine".
"It's fine, they just look a little different that's all, the colour's a little darker."
"Well, that I can live with, as long as I can see out of the things..."
At that point there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Mother said, and I heard two pairs of footsteps approach me.
"You! What do you want?!" Mother said, standing up.
"We're here to interview your son," a familiar voice said.
"You leave this minute, or I'll drop so many lawyers on your heads that you'll drown in wigs," Mother almost growled.
Not the best smack-talk, but I'll take it.
"We will not leave," Kraab said, "you see, young Mister Graves has some explaining to do."
"About what?" she asked, I heard rustling in her purse as she rummaged for her phone, no doubt.
"About the two men who were skinned alive last night."
Chapter 30
Alright, leaving aside the fact that someone got skinned for a moment, there is no way that it could be traced back to me, or that anyone would even suspect that it was me. I kept my expression neutral.
"What are you talking about?" Mother asked.
"Last night the police were called to the scene of a crime. Two men were screaming their lungs out, and the police found them on the roof of a factory building. Each of them had been cut more than three hundred times, their skin was in shreds. Their eyes, ears and lips are unrecognisable, it's likely that they'll be permanently blind, and they won't be able to smell properly."
They already smelled pretty bad, I refrained from saying, barely managing not to grin at my own awful internal pun.
"What makes you think that my son knows anything about this?" Mother asked.
I heard the rustle of paper.
"This photograph was taken last night, in front of the building where the victims were found."
I heard flapping and felt air brush my face.
"He can't see, Agent," Mother said, "he was attacked last night as well."
Silence for a moment. And then I felt someone getting closer to me.
"What happened?" Kraab asked, his tone a little softer.
"Matthew?" Mother asked. I nodded.
"I can honestly say that I didn't see anything happen to them," I said, after taking a moment to think, "but I think I heard it happen. After I went blind there were some loud noises, and then I heard them screaming. I think that their blood is on my trousers, if they're the same people."
"Can you remember anything else? A sound, or anyone that might have had a reason to harm them?"
"After I went blind, they came up to the roof and talked about taking me. They said that they were going to hurt me," I said. Mother gasped, I hadn't told her about this part.
"What happened then?" Knowles asked (she hadn't spoken up till that point).
"No idea. Just darkness and screaming and I left as quickly as I could."
"And what were you doing there in the first place?" Kraab asked.
"Looking at a warehouse."
"Why?"
"The source you took from my head gave me the address."
No point in lying, they'd just take the information from my head anyway, and I was still too tired and hurt to put up any sort of resistance.
"The one across the street from where we found the victims?"
"That's the one," I replied.
There were a few minutes of silence and then the sound of receding footsteps.
"We'll let you know if we have any other questions," Kraab said, "don't leave town, please."
I nodded, and I heard the door close. Well, it was now officially someone else's problem.
"Would you care to explain to me why you left out those little details from the story you told me?"
I sighed inwardly. Can't I catch a break?
After yet another retelling, and what felt like hours of cross-examination, Mother accepted my version of events at last and settled down again. She went to the shop and came back with a battery powered radio for me before heading out to speak to Des, who would probably be wondering where I'd got to. Who only knew what Bill and Cathy must have thought by now, it must have been at least midday, and I hadn't been to class yet.
I was there for another three hours, scrolling through radio stations, before my eyes started to get better. Once the SCA goons had left I'd cast a few healing spells, and that had sped the process along greatly. Still though, all I got at first was a blur of indistinct shapes, and it stayed like that, it was infuriating.
I got bored and more bored as time went by. Lunch came and went, it was horrible, but at least I knew where the plate was and could see my cutlery. Around five o'clock I was able to see more distinct shapes, and a nurse came in to administer another dose of something or other.
My vision was serviceable about two hours after that, just in time for Mother to come back with Desmond and several bags full of takeaway food.
They clucked and sighed when I told them that my vision was improving. Things were still a touch blurry, but it was much better.
"Cool eyes, Matty, very spooky," Des said after stuffing himself to completion.
"Desmond!" Mother said in her stern voice.
"What?" I asked, standing up and heading for the mirror. I could barely make out my face, but with some effort I got a general look at my eyes. They were red, the sclera anyway. Not blood red, more like that of a half-dried scab, mottled with small patches of lighter red. The irises were black, deep black, darker than the pupil itself.
"And this is permanent?" I asked, aghast. As if I needed additional reasons to be branded a freak.
"I think it looks cool," Des said, patting me on the back.
"Yes, it gives you an aura of mystery," Mother chimed in.
"It gives me the look of an Ebola victim," I replied, pulling the lids away, and yes, the red's all the way in there. Just wonderful.
Chapter 31
It was another two days before they let me out of that hospital, a full twenty-four hours after my eyesight was back to perfectly normal. The colour of my eyes remained the same spooky mess, though.
I turned up for breakfast on Tuesday morning, sitting down in my usual spot. Cathy and Bill stopped talking when I sat down. They were about to launch into questions when I saw their eyes go to mine. Bill gasped, Cathy squeaked, I rolled my eyes.
"What the hell happened to you?" Bill asked. Cathy looked like she was going to cry.
So I had yet another retelling to go through, when I just wanted to forget the whole thing. Naturally Bill was full of questions about my story, and I answered them as best I could (meaning I made stuff up), Cathy was looking at me suspiciously, she knew I was full of crap.
Eventually Bill headed off to his first class and I told Cathy the real story out in the square. She got a little pissy about it.
"Are you out of your mind?" she asked, "You know that the warehouse district is out of bounds."
"That wasn't what caused the problem, Cathy," I said, rubbing my eyes, which had been a little itchy since getting out of the hospital.
"Don't scratch, you'll make it worse, and what caused the problem was you going places you shouldn't have been and doing things you aren't ready for."
"A little bit of forward planning, and I wouldn't have had any problems at all," I said lamely.
"You could have died, or worse," she said with a little tremor in her voice.
"I don't plan on doing anything like that again," I said, "no more sleuthing for me, I'm leaving it to the professionals."
She looked at me suspiciously, "Really?" she asked incredulously.
"Really," I replied, nudging her with my shoulder, "one permanent physical alteration is enough of a lesson for me, thanks very much."
"I don't know, I think it makes you look a little dangerous," she said with a grin.
"Until you find out how it happened, and then I look like an idiot."
"So don't tell anyone that part," Cathy suggested, getting up and stretching, "come on, we've got maths."
And that was the end of that. I mean, I got some strange looks (more than usual anyway), but the eyes were weird enough that people were giving me a wide berth, even the Ox and his crowd were leaving me alone, something for which I was supremely grateful.
I made it all the way to Wednesday without another incident. But then it was time for another "lecture".
Oh, how I would have preferred not to participate in another one of these messes. I could really do without the additional stress.
I tried to persuade Bill and Cathy not to go, but naturally they wouldn't stay away. Des had the good sense to listen to me for a change, so he stayed out.
The three of us took the same seats as we had last week. This time there was a projector set up on a small table. Oh joy, visual aids.
The room filled up quickly, and the block of Ox's thugs seemed to have expanded to almost twice its usual size, some of them glared openly at me, but they stopped once I looked back at them, meeting their eyes with mine. It turns out that there are some advantages to this injury, after all.
"Oooh, movies," Bill said, noticing the projector, "maybe she has a video brochure for her "gentleman's club", what do you think, Matty?"
"Billy!" Cathy's predictable response came right on cue, and Bill grinned even wider.
"Hi Matthew," Belle said from behind us, moving around to sit next to Cathy.
"Belle? Shouldn't you be watching Des?" I asked.
"He's fine, I left him watching gymnastics practice. He's not going anywhere."
"And you're alright with your boyfriend ogling the leotard brigade?" Bill asked with an evil grin.
Belle gave him a glare and simply didn't answer.
"Why are you here? You know she's trouble for magicians," I said.
"No, she's trouble for you, so someone should be here to watch your back."
"We're watching his back," Bill chimed in.
"Someone competent," she said with an acidic grunt. Belle just doesn't like Bill, it's understandable, really; he's an acquired taste.
"I'm competent!" Cathy said.
"Someone practiced in battle magic," she said with what I thought was impressive self control.
Well, she had a point, and it was quite nice of her.
"The more the merrier," I said to forestall any further sniping, and she smiled at me in what I thought was an unusually warm manner, before looking forwards.
Mister Kenilworth filed in, leading Tethys again. This time she had an assistant with her, who she introduced as Kandi "with a K", who sat next to the small table with a computer, which she hooked up to the projector.
She was young, red haired and attractive, her outfit, vaguely resembling business attire, was low-cut, tight fitting and made of fine material; she had the figure of an athlete (or a dancer). Another distraction, no doubt. Tethys' eyes lingered on me before taking in the rest of the room (which was even fuller after the drama of the previous lecture).
Kenilworth introduced her, and Tethys took her place at the podium, leaning forward to look at the crowd and drawing attention to her décolletage.
"I see that word of our little play has spread; good," she said with a smile.
I started grinding my teeth a little and Cathy put her hand on my arm.
"For those of you who weren't here, last week was a demonstration of what can happen when magicians and humans mix. The mood right now is very much in favour, mages are popular, even revered in some circles."
She stepped around the podium, getting closer to the seats.
"But as you saw, that mood can change, and on the slightest provocation. Mister Graves was no threat to any of you, had never harmed you, but given a single suspicion, you turned on him like a pack of wolves."
There was muttering, guilty looks, I got angrier.
"This is human nature. We see that which is different, and we attack it. We go for what might be a threat, it's a throwback to the days when the tribe over the next hill may one day come to burn our village to the ground, it's in our DNA."
"But why do we view the mage as separate to the rest of humanity? What makes a Wizard with the power to throw a fireball different from a pilot controlling a warplane, for example? They have the same power at their command, the same capacity for destruction. What's different? Anyone?"
"A magician can kill more people?" Courtney again. God, I hate that bitch.
"No," Tethys said with a grin.
"A magician's power doesn't need the kind of training a pilot does?" Ox offered.
"Definitely untrue, in fact a mage may well need more training than a pilot," Tethys said with a chuckle.
"A warplane can't put out a fire. A pyromage can," I said, wanting an end put to this discussion.
Tethys smiled.
"Exactly right, Mister Graves," she said slowly, as if rolling my name around in her mouth as she said it.
"Beneficial effects. Every skill a magician masters can have a beneficial effect. Magic is a tool. It's only becomes a weapon when someone chooses to make it so. A mage that can cause an earthquake can also raise a mountain of earth to stop a flood, for example."
"But that doesn't make them any less dangerous," another one of Ox's brutes said, glaring over at Belle.
"Of course not," Tethys agreed, "but it also means that it's not down to the power. It's down to the person with it. Allow me to illustrate."
She nodded to Kandi, who smiled and tapped at the computer. The lights went down at the touch of a button and an image appeared on the screen. It looked familiar. It took me a minute, but then I felt a surge of panic rocket through my chest.
It was a wall of shadow, lit up by the lights from a Bentley.
The wall of shadow I conjured a week ago.
The cunning bitch had taped the whole thing.
Chapter 32
I had to try very hard to resist the temptation to bang by head off the floor in sheer frustration at my own stupidity. How did I not see this coming? I mean there's dumb, and then there's this.
"Now, last week I told you about shadow mages. Is there anyone here who'd like to see the man I was talking about?"
I slunk slightly lower in my chair, and Cathy looked sideways at me, but she kept her expression neutral. There was general assent from the room. Tethys nodded and Kandi pressed another button.
I saw me step out of the shadow, and there was a collective gasp from the audience. Damn it! Now I could never wear that outfit again, and it was comfortable, too. There wasn't any sound, which was something, and my face was covered by the hood and the dark, so it wasn't all bad. You'd have to know me really well to have any chance of recognising me from that.
"Hey, Matthew, don't you have that hoodie?" Bill whispered.
"Yep," I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
"See here the shadow magician. Scary isn't he? Now, watch what he does next."
The guard dropped to the ground, and the audience gasped again. Then there was the part where we chatted, she tried to get close, I rubbed my eyes. A personal tic that hopefully no one else would recognise (making me doubly grateful that Des wasn't there).
"What did he do?" Courtney squeaked.
"All in good time," Tethys said.
Then there was that whole bit with the shadows reaching into her pocket, some of the younger members of the audience screamed a little. Cathy had a death-grip on my arm that was going to leave bruises. The footage ended when I disappeared back into the shadows.
Tethys looked insufferably pleased with herself.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked, glancing around the room, her eyes lingering on me for a few seconds.
"That's horrible!" Courtney shrieked.
"Disgusting," one of the younger kids said.
That's a little harsh, I thought to myself.
"What's wrong with that freak?" said someone from the pack whose name I didn't even know.
Okay, now they were starting to piss me off a little bit.
"Absolutely nothing," Tethys answered.
"What?" Ox asked, "that's normal?"
"Perfectly, and also very interesting," Tethys answered.
"Why?" Courtney again.
"When he spoke, the voice was young; I'd say about seventeen, maybe eighteen. That means he's one of you, a student," she tapped the computer, and the picture changed to the wall of shadows at the beginning of the film.
"See this? The lights are shining right at it. You know what normally happens to shadows when you shine light at them?"
"They disappear?" Bill offered, getting into the discussion like an idiot.
"Indeed. So, how much power does it take to empower a shadow when a light is shining right at it? I'll save you the trouble of positing an answer. It's a lot. More than a Wizard-level magician can generate, anyway."
I actually frowned at that. She did have a point, but I didn't know enough about what other Shadowborn could do to confirm or deny anything. I needed more knowledge, that was for sure...
There was murmuring and muttering at that.
"That's right. You have a Sorcerer in your midst. A strong one at that. What makes him interesting is that he hides himself. Now, why would someone that powerful, and this skilled, bother to hide himself?"
I didn't know why she was saying this. I was almost certainly a Wizard, not a Sorcerer.
"He's a freak!" this from one Warren Stone, a disagreeable little twit who captains the football team, currently sat next to the Ox.
"And you think that matters to him? That little piece of magic that dropped my driver was all mental. He could have every one of you thinking he was royalty if he put his mind to it. The fact that he hasn't makes me think that he has another reason for keeping himself at arm's length."
She walked around the podium and the lights came up.
"And why mental magic at all? Why not just use the shadows to toss my driver away? Or an attack spell to knock him out? Why a sleeping spell? Ask yourself what you would do with that kind of power. Do any of you seriously think you would keep it under wraps?"
