I can’t get a break even in a dream. A disaster required that the neighborhood be evacuated. The local authorities had their hands full, so a call was made for volunteers of any and all persuasions to assist. I answered the call as a firemonger. The disaster was halted, but the neighborhood was still dangerous so I had to spend the night at a shelter.
Exhausted, I was assigned a cot on the open floor. A string of magic beads fell out of an overstuffed pocket as I sat down. The man sitting on the cot next to mine reached down to snatch the beads up but I was faster. “You shouldn’t be so careless with those things. A better sorcerer could take them and really fuck you up with them, you know. I could teach you how to protect yourself. As a gift.”
Eww, no. I had just come from negotiating a peaceful end to a raging wildfire, and taking control of many small spot fires. The beads would have been useless in his hands as they were more a symbolic tool than an active item. But in his arrogance, he assumed that I was only a dabbler because of my gender. I hope. He could also just be some pick-up artist thinking me as easy prey, which would give me the right to discombobulate his ass from the shelter.
But violence would mean my expulsion as well, and I was too damn tired to move for someone as insignificant as him. Better take precautions, just the same. As I moved items from the exterior pockets of my overcoat to more secure and defensible interior pockets, I came across a small spirit that had taken refuge in the unworn hood of my coat.
I coaxed it out, told it the rules of the shelter (Don’t start anything and it won’t be finished on your ass.), and promised I would find a better place for it to wander off to in the morning. I needed sleep.
The little spirit, appearing then as a wee fairy sprite, agreed. It hovered as I laid down for rest, then took up a sentry position on my shoulder. I started to chuckle at sight we gave, as if a kitten is going to guard a bear, but the exhaustion took away my mirth and my cognition.
When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by magic users and no small number of wards and reactive boundaries. The wee fairy sprite was still upon my shoulder, but it was giving those around me a very evil and unwelcome stare.
“What the hell did I miss? Damn, I must have been out ice age cold to have missed what happened.” I nudged the wee fairy spirit but it would not move from its sentry position.
“G’morning, Instigator. I should kick your ass, you know, except your guard dog won’t allow it.”
I look over and see a fellow magic user dripping coffee into a thimble. I knew the person, but could not remember his name. He offered the thimble of coffee to the wee fairy spirit, who only gave him stinkeye in return.
I nudge the wee fairy spirit again. “Take the coffee, even if you don’t want it. This is likely the only gesture of peace you’re going to get out of him this lifetime.” The wee fairy took the thimble with a slow and deliberate motion but did not drink from the thimble.
The magus poured a mug of the precious brew and offered it to me. For the third time I nudged the wee fairy. This time, it did move as I did not wait for it to respond but quickly sat up to accept the gift before he changed his mind. The wee fairy took to hovering to keep from spilling the thimble.
“Is this coffee or blood?” I still could not remember his name, but I did remember our common joke. He drank so much coffee, I would quip that it ran in his veins in lieu of blood.
“You don’t want me to answer that. Not yet. Not here.” I paused for a moment to properly insult him by making a spectacle of examining the fluid in the mug. The tone of his laughter was meant to put me at ease. It only confirmed what I suspected. He waited for me to take a deep drink of the precious fluid. The aftertaste tingled in the way that only magic does. “Your guard dog is well trained. It only bites those that would hurt you, but we could not take any chances that it might try to slip its leash. Not with your reputation.”
I smacked my lips and sucked on my tongue. “Peace enforcement. I can’t throw the first strike. Tongue loosener, so it would take a massive force of will not to answer your questions, and I’d probably shit myself if I try to lie. I haven’t figured out the third one, but I do note that you did not try to hide the scent of the woo from me.”
“And yet, you still drank even after detecting it.”
“You don’t give many peace offerings. I knew that whatever the fuck happened, it would be better for me to be under your thumb than standing against you.”
“And this, Weaver, is why I like you. You know when to fold.”
I shrugged and grunted a mirthful tone. “What can I say, I’m too old to throw shit for the sake of throwing shit. Seeing how I woke up in the same posture I fell asleep in, I take it that what happened was not by my hand. But you have enough wards around me to shackle a djinn. What the fuck happened?”
The magus looked at the wee fairy hovering over my shoulder. “You did not stop her from drinking.”
“You weren’t trying to hurt her or steal from her. And she trusts you.”
“But others could take advantage of her state.”
“Others can try. She trusts you.”
I watched the interaction while downing the rest of the coffee. At the bottom of the mug, I identified the third woo. It wasn’t meant for me. I understood now why the fey spirit did not drink its offering.
“But does she trust you? You are no mere fey.”
“We have an agreement. I abide by the rules of the shelter, she will find me a new home in the morning. That is all you need to know.”
The caffeine kicked in and I came to my senses. The wee fey visually appeared to be barely five inches tall. To my dead eye, the spirit was dense as it was compacting itself to appear smaller than it was. I could not identify what type of spirit it was, but it felt predatory and desperate.
“How the fuck did I not see you last night?”
“You were busy with the fire [elementals]. They burned down my home and would have burnt me up with it until you came along.”
The magus grumped a chuckle. “What the [fire elementals] want, it is usually better to let them have.”
“And yet no one will give me a million dollars tax-free. So suck it.” The magus snorted in laughter at my retort. “I remember the fires took out a magician’s house, which is why I had to go there to corral some of the shit that was escaping and making things harder. This spirit must be one of the freed ones. Will its owner… or jailer… come to collect?”
“If it is among that group I dealt with last night, then no. Revenge has been served against the former magician.”
“Former. Eww. Anything left to properly dispose of or worry about?”
“No. But anyways, about this one here and what happened. Do you recall a gentleman bunked beside you last night? A bit of a predator and fancied himself to be a master?”
We both knew the answer to the question, but as an experiment I held my tongue. The magic’s effect began immediately. The compulsion to speak started as a pressure on the back of the tongue that spread down into a perceived constriction in the neck. I could breathe normally, but the effect gave me the sensation of starting to drown. I clenched my teeth to keep from panicking.
The magus raised an eyebrow and grinned ruthlessly as he watched his handiwork upon me. I grinned back and started to nod. I realized that nod was me answering his question so I turned away to look at the assembled audience of law enforcement and magic users.
My lower abdomen wrenched in sudden pain and I doubled over almost gagging. “Yes!” I dry-heaved. “Yes, I remember that would be jive talkin’ motherfucker!” The discomfort ceased immediately but it still took me a few moments to collect myself.
“That’s fucking evil, you sunnavabitch! Menstrual cramps! Really?” I took deep breaths between peals of authentic and unsettling laughter.
“Do you like? Instead of triggering any specific sensation, it plays on the fears and pain tolerances of the target. Forgive me, but they wanted assurances that you would not just eat the magic or shrug off the effects. Your reputation as a berserker, you know.”
“Yes, I like. I reserve the right to study it and adapt it for my own use. Okay, I’ll play by the rules. I had to see what would happen. You know I’m a curious bitch.” He smirked again and nodded. “To answer the question again, yes, I remember that guy. Claimed to be a better sorcerer. Don’t look at me like that, his words. Fucking asshole. If you’re asking about him, that means someone got the pleasure of kicking his ass. Who did it, and why am I implicated?”
The magus looked at the still hovering wee fairy. I turned to face it fully. “What the fuck did you do?”
“He tried to go through your pockets!”
“What, the fuck, did you do?”
“He wanted to hurt you!”
I handed the empty mug back to the magus and tried to make a threatening gesture. Instead, I lost all feeling and voluntary muscle control in my right arm. “Shit. The peace enforcement. I can’t do anything. My dear… just can not remember your fucking name you fuck… Dear friend, your work is excellent and is masterful. As irritating as this is, I am honored to have your shackles on me. I think anyone else’s would have been broken by now. Such subtle excellence.”
He smiled and accepted my compliments. “I was given a challenge and rose to it. Now, to answer your question, the man’s spirit is gone. Devoured. His body remains, and his memory along with his cognition as well. But he is now only an automaton of flesh. All drive, all independence, all that would separate organic thought from systemic algorithms is gone.”
“Well, shit.” My arm started tingling with pins and needles. The sensation was more discomforting than menstrual cramps. I grimaced and breathed deeply through the sensation. When it passed I flexed my hand and looked back to the wee fairy. “What did I tell you about the rules of the shelter? No starting shit!”
“I didn’t!” The high pitched voice sounded much like a young child’s. I wondered how much of that was deliberate. “I didn’t start it! I warned him that I would defend you! I told him to stop! I reminded him of the rules! He backhanded me! Me! You said no violence! I wasn’t violent! His body is completely intact! When they took him away, they just told him to stand up and follow them, and he did!”
The way the wee fairy expressed indignation did not go unnoticed by myself nor the magus. We exchanged a glance of shared understanding. “Yea, well, now we’re in deep shit. Because you were violent, though not physically. And because of our agreement, I’m responsible for you.”
I turned to the magus. “I am under your thumb by choice. I surrender to you, and yield all I have. I can not refute the charges and accept my responsibility. Do as you will.” I bent my head and spread my hands in an open gesture.
“Does that surrender include the spirit?”
“No!” The wee fairy’s cry was sharp and grating.
“Yes. While it is the morning still, I have yet to find a permanent home for it, and so it is still under my aegis. Though after this turn of events, I’m not sure what or where would be a good home.”
“No! It’s not fair! I didn’t escape that prison to be imprisoned again! It’s not fair!” The wee fairy hurled the thimble, still filled with now cold coffee, at my magus friend. My instinct was to catch it, to deflect the insult and then confront the spirit for trying to harm my friend (as ineffective as it would have been), but the peace enforcement magic removed all control of voluntary muscle groups from me and I dropped.
The magus ducked the insult as he swiftly caught me. Laughing softly as he laid me on the cot, he chided me for my propensity for violence and remarked my reputation is well earned.
He looked up with severity, then back down to my open eyes. “I know you would want to watch, but you won’t be able to turn away when you should.” He closed my eyes gently.
“You placed yourself under her aegis until she could find you a home. It is well for you that she was so exhausted, she slept through your actions, or you would find yourself the one devoured instead. She has surrendered herself and all she has to me, which means you now belong to me. Do you understand?”
“NO! I will make you go away like I made him!” I wanted to openly laugh at the wee spirit. While I still did not remember the magus’ name, I knew that he is a master of many disciplines and openly feared in those circles that would openly mock me.
I felt a shockwave push me against the cot. The forgotten audience gave shouts of alarm as I heard the scramble of feet on slippery concrete. A burst of warmth was followed by a sudden chill. Silence. Then the sound of something small, thin, and light fluttering. Many such somethings fell against me.
My magus friend chuckled again as I heard him move around me, picking up the small things. A rustle of plastic as the collection was wrapped or bagged, then silence again.
“You’re going to taste something on your tongue. You may identify it at once. Do not comment on it, only know that it releases you from my shackles and lifts my thumb off you.” I tried to nod before being forcibly reminded that I could not voluntarily move.
The taste did remind me of a thing, and I did identify it at once. I said nothing as instructed, nor did I give any expression on my face to provide a hint to others. I tested the release by opening my eyes.
He stood over me. “I have something for you.”
“The restoration of that asshole?”
“You want that?”
“No, but it’s the civil thing to ask for, I suppose.”
He rolled his eyes as he moved out of my way. I sat up, my turn to chuckle.
“Here. It’s not a tarot deck, but you may be able to work with it just the same.” He dropped a plastic sandwich baggie in my lap. My arms felt sluggish as I lifted it. Inside the closed translucent bag was a small deck of cards. Keeping the bag sealed, I moved the cards around. They were each decorated with an image of a Victorian style fairy. Some of the cards were pleasant to look at, some were not.
“You bastard.”
“Hmm?”
“Another haunted deck?”
“I prefer to use the term… imprisonment.”
I looked closer at the cards. Each image was slowly moving. “You trapped the spirit in this deck?”
“Getting there.”
“You transformed the spirit into this deck. This is the spirit.”
“Yes. And you are its keeper. Or should I say, jailer. Until the authorities determine what this spirit is, why it was imprisoned where it was, and what would be the proper course of action, you get to take care of it.”
I could feel the spirit’s hate through the thin plastic. “What would it take to release it?”
My friend studied my face coldly. “Complete and total transmutation of the cardstock, of course. Why?”
“Because I’m holding something flammable, and you know my other reputation. Or do I have to point out they warded against a fucking ifrit, hmm? If I lose my shit and burn the deck to ashes, would that free it?”
“No. You’d have to ingest and digest the deck, or in your test case, the ashes, to release the spirit. Have fun with that bowel movement.”
This time I did let my response be legible on my face. “Eww. Ugh. Gods, fuck, no. I’ve talked a lot of shit out my ass, and farted a few jokes, but no. That’s a line I will not fucking cross.”
“Suffice to say, it will take more than just burning to ashes to release it. You’d have to completely destroy even the ashes. Should you do lose your temper, may I suggest using a glass container to hold the ashes afterward? That way, if you get pissed off again, you can just seal the glass and be done with it.”
The magus gathered his things, wished me a good day, and walked away. An authority figure confronted him demanding that he lay restrictions upon me as a punishment. Someone else confronted him demanding that I surrender the bedecked spirit. He told all that listened that he would do no further action against me, and that as far as he was concerned, justice was done.
The authority figure tried to salvage his control of the situation. “Well, as least she’s still in the circles, so it’s not like she can just walk out of here.” When my magus friend walked away laughing, he was not amused.
I placed the baggie in a pocket and made inventory. Having all my things about me, I started to make my exit. I knew the wards were there, but I wanted to make a show of my exit, so I intentionally tripped them. An encompassing cylinder of sparkles and sound surrounded me, revealing where the inner wards were set.
The authority figure faced me and gloated openly over my imprisonment. I licked my fingers as if I was going to count money, then reached out and pinched the innermost ward. His smile froze as I easily wrenched the ward free of its placement and ate the strings of magic like so much sauceless spaghetti.
One by one, I deconstructed the wards from the inside out. Some of the spectators were amused. Some watched in frozen fear. The authority figure and some of those that placed the wards were angry. Once I completely removed each ward meant to keep me in place, I turned to face the authority figure and bowed.
Those that were amused by my display laughed and clapped. Some pulled back in instinctual fear. Most were indifferent now that the show was over. I was among the latter.
I left the dream.