Hugo was really weak and just out of it. Connor and I got him cleaned up and into some of my clothes before putting him on the couch. Connor lightly pulled me by the wrist into the little bedroom that I used for my mapping of the summoned creatures and such. Once in the room, Connor peeked out at the living room and then closed the door, crossed his arms over himself – that was when I noticed the trembling.
I guess I'd stumbled over that line of how much he could take at once.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another. He nodded once and opened his eyes, locking his gaze to mine.
“Do you have time to tell me what happened?” he asked.
I just blinked at him. “Um. Let me think.”
It wasn't easy to shift gears. I'd really been thinking Hugo going from ghost to human would break him. Hell, I wasn't sure I was done processing that one. Had Tyrathaxion known what would happen? Is that what he'd meant by Hugo needing a vessel? Was this permanent, or was there some terrible thing that was to befall Hugo as a result – you know, besides being alive in the modern world.
Of course, Connor hadn't been aware of anything, since Tyrathaxion had spun his temporal magic and locked everything down while he put me down and helped me all in one stroke. I’d say I envied his ability to do that, but honestly? I was just glad Hugo was okay. Or was he? Fuck. I just didn't know enough. But tied in with that, at some point I had to tell Connor about Tyrathaxion – and it scared me. I didn't understand why the dragon was keeping tabs on a human, but that couldn't possibly end well. Could it? How do I protect Connor?
Add to that the need to deal with the other stone – like, tonight. We'd be unlucky with our projection that the stone was more or less on schedule to release a creature from memory, but we couldn't rely on that; I needed to deal with it tonight. On top of that, Char was supposed to be keeping an eye on things, but who knows what she'd actually do? The girl was still developing, and she had a hunger to her. I think most of us do, to a degree. We want power over certain things, control. She was certainly wanting to increase her power, and somewhat benignly she was wanting to get some boy's attention. That would have to be dealt with, too. Mind magic was nothing to sneeze at, though I don't think she really knew what she was doing. More or less, she'd hit him like a ton of bricks with overwhelming lust, rather than the fine art mind magic really was.
Or so I'd read.
“Okay,” Connor said. “I'm guessing you going so quiet means we don't have time.”
I let out a breath. “Actually, there are so many things I wasn't sure which one to even start with.”
He nodded and let out his own deep breath. “How about just the immediate thing in our living room.”
Our.
Well, a dragon that's watching you showed up, stopped time and yanked Hugo's bones up and smashed that together with a bunch of life energy to make him a real boy. Sounds sane to me. Thankfully Connor wasn't aware of time stopping or what happened while he was frozen in place. That I knew of.
“Um. Well, the short version is that the memories in the stone were his. They mixed with the energy that was filling him from before, and...it looks like the guy that made the stones wasn't entirely wrong.”
Connor pressed his lips together and held a finger up. “That was the guy trying to save memories as life in order to cheat death?”
I nodded. “It seems that life energy – in this case memories – that aren't your own don't react very well. Hugo was sort of lucky, because he didn't get the whole stone's worth, just whatever manifested last night. If he'd gotten all the energy that was stored...that might have ended him.”
“Holy shit.” Connor sighed.
“That's probably why the guy who made the stones got killed when he tried to use them – or damn near. Might have been something about the level of energy a spirit can handle versus a live person, since Hugo could only handle the one manifestation, but-”
“Okay, okay. Slow down,” Connor said with a ghost of a smile on his face. “What do we do with Hugo?”
We. I widened my eyes and glanced toward the closed door as if Hugo could hear me. “Well, I have no idea besides trying to get him acclimated to living again. He hasn't had to do basic 'living' things for a few hundred years, like eating and going to the bathroom. I'm pretty sure he was around before deodorant was widely in use, so there's that.”
“Right. So, food. Um, I'm getting low after groceries for us.”
I nodded. “I have to go rob a bank or something.”
His eyes went wide. “Let's think on that one first,” he said, trailing off into a little laugh. “I can't believe I have to say that.”
“Yeah, well, it could get worse.” I filled him in on the mage hunters and how they may have just gotten an enormous ping on their radar from Hugo turning into a real boy – as a side note, I plan to call him Pinocchio at some point. Moving on.
“So, we need to...ward the house? That's what you're saying? That protects us?”
I lifted my hands and let them drop to my sides. “I'm not sure. For all I know that was enough magic for them to get a pinpoint – I don't know how that stuff works.”
He ran his hand down over his mouth, and my mind ran wild with what he could be thinking. Any sane person would slowly back away – no, run like their hair was on fire. There was a part of me that was afraid he'd do just that, but there was a pretty large part that had hope, because he'd shown me a few times he was more resilient than other people I'd known. Or seen on TV.
“Okay. So, should we...move things to my apartment? Or what if-”
I kissed him. Oops, wasn't thinking about doing it. My bad?
“Okay, guessing I've done something right,“ Connor said, blushing pretty hard. “But maybe we can save that for when we don't have a crisis?”
“I think kissing at critical times actually increases the success rate of desperate plans that move forward with very little actual knowledge.”
He smiled gently. “Is that a fact?”
“Just made it up, but you have to admit it sounded good.”
Before I could reply, my door opened, and Tyrathaxion was there, but this time he wasn't applying any temporal magic.
“Mr. Tyrath?”
The dragon looked up and nodded. “Connor.” He shifted his gaze to me. “I should have made you do this, but time isn't on our side.” He placed a five-gallon bucket on the floor and popped the lid.
I wrinkled my nose. “What is in there?”
“Ingredients matter,” he said forcefully. “Unicorn blood, a few scraps from the animal shelter – don't look at me like that! It's just waste blood from the butcher shop! Really!”
I blinked at him a few times. “You...have a sense of humor?”
He placed his hands on his hips. “Dead apprentices will never know.”
“Right, so we're doing what with this?”
He pointed at the bucket. “Reagent for your wards. Vinegar, which you seem to have used, is all right for short term things – but now you need to obfuscate this place, especially with – oh.” He looked from the couch back to me. “Is that the spirit?”
“Oh? You knew what would happen and left me with no warning and – yeah, okay, no pointing fingers at you. Got it.” The look on his face alone was enough to make me think he was going to breathe fire in his human form.
“Do I need to repeat the question?”
Swallowing, I shook my head. “He, ah...I'm assuming this is what you had in mind?”
He shrugged. “You seemed attached.”
“I mean...not letting someone die.” I cleared my throat. “Again.”
The dragon looked at me steadily. “Each thing you preserve or destroy comes with consequences – those you anticipate, those that never materialize and the unintended.” He glanced at the couch and back to me. “He cannot be left to his own devices. He's in a time unfamiliar to him. Even those who are long lived struggle to keep up with the pace of change in the world.” He sighed. “It was easier when the church kept learning of any kind to themselves.”
Connor sighed. “I feel like I'm missing something here, and I don't like it.”
Tyrathaxion turned toward him and nodded. “Get used to that, I suppose. It's life.”
Connor looked down at the blood, to his boss and then to me. “I'm going to say now's not the time.” He was braver than I, looking directly at Tyrathaxion. “But it's coming. I almost feel like I've been sleeping and parts of dreams are starting to come together.”
I nodded. “Yeah.” I glanced at the dragon, and his expression was...impressed?
Connor went to check on Hugo, and Tyrathaxion told me to pay attention. Many times my parents would demonstrate something, and then we were supposed to copy whatever it had been. If we failed, we'd get hurt. Having said that, doing something is usually a better way to learn. Draconic interaction with magic is on a different level than for a human. Some humans can practice the art, like me and my family. Others are the art, like dragons.
Whatever else he may be, Tyrathaxion was a good teacher. His hand motions, his pronunciation and his repetition were clear and completely visible to me. After he'd cast the second ward, he nodded to me, and I copied his motion, focusing on the incantation. Wards usually have the same general reagents to use for casting; what makes them special is the intent. Tyrathaxion wasn't fucking around. He was not just warding my place against detection, he was also dispersing the magical residue from any casting that had been done before as well as whatever spike Hugo'd caused. This should help keep the mage hunters from homing in on me – or my building at least.
Unless they'd had some people in town already; then they may be on the way or camping out close by, waiting to strike.
“All right, apprentice,” he said, wiping his hands against themselves. “That was passable. Your pronunciation needs work, but the intent was adequate.” He put his hands on his hips. “What is the situation as you see it?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “I have to get rid of both stones, explain you to Connor and figure out what to do with Hugo.” I paused. “Also, I stumbled on an untrained practitioner.”
Tyrathaxion seemed to grind his teeth a bit and lifted his chin. “A threat?”
I shook my head. “Not at the moment. Youngster, still trying to find their way.” I didn't like his predatory expression, and I didn't want to give away anything about Char just yet. There was a very real possibility that Tyrathaxion would have killed me or forced me to leave; for whatever reason – my family history, something – he had apprenticed me instead.
He nodded slowly. “And what about these mage hunters?”
I sighed and shrugged. “I hope-”
“You hope?”
I swallowed and crossed my arms. “I don't know if there are any in the city already, or if they are on the way due to the magical flare from Hugo's...rebirth, I guess. That or they had people here or on the way when their last group disappeared.”
Tyrathaxion sucked on his teeth. “And your parents?”
My eyes went a bit wider. “My parents? I...well, I hadn't thought of them in all this.”
He looked at me steadily and nodded. “Perhaps you should.”
I thought for a moment. “Of course I've tried to keep a low profile from them, but...” I glanced at the dragon, ideas tumbling one over the next. “How would...well, they could be monitoring for magical activity, but what would point them here? I mean, there is magical activity all around the world. It's not all tracked or registered or whatever you may want to call it, so what would cause them to look in this area? Dumb luck?”
He looked back at me steadily and then in a low voice said, “Perhaps.”
A shiver ran up my spine at the thought of my parents. “Well. I'll have to do something about them if that's the case.”
Smoke leaked from his nose, and then he nodded. “I have things to do. Tomorrow we'll add to your training.” He snorted. “Have you found a better way to get money yet?”
“I was thinking of robbing a bank,” I said, proud of the idea.
He rolled his eyes. “Amateur.” He turned on his heel and left the apartment. I glanced over at Connor and Hugo; Connor was just stepping away from Hugo and headed toward me. He nodded as he approached.
“I think now's the time. At least...something.”
I let out a breath. “Um. Okay. Uh.”
“The mark on your hand?” he prompted.
I nodded again. “Well, I figure you understand that your boss is, um, involved in the magical world.”
Connor sucked on his teeth. “Yeah. Shocked the hell out of me. I've known the man my whole life and never had a clue. It makes me wonder what else I don't know – like big things.” He frowned and glanced at the door and then back to me. “When I was little I used to dream about being someone's kid. That people would just show up and things would get better. Mr. Tyrath was always...there. Not daily, but just on the edge of everything. I never had enough interaction...he was like a distant uncle, I suppose.” He sighed. “I feel like I've been lied to.”
“Yeah. Can see why you'd wonder,” I replied. “Anyway...this mark kind of ties me to him.”
Connor looked at me for a moment. “I thought I heard the word apprentice.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. He has a lot to learn from me.”
Connor smiled, acknowledging my bad joke, and I returned it.
“Just kidding. He's got a leg up on me, for sure.” This was getting too close to me having to spring on him that this guy he'd know literally all his life was a dragon – time to change direction. “How's Hugo?”
Connor blew out a breath. “I'm no doctor, but he seems okay – just asleep. His breathing seems regular, he's not sweating or anything. I mean...he seems okay for someone who just became...alive again?” He shook his head. “I can't believe I'm even saying that out loud.”
“Yeah, kind of unexpected,” I agreed, sparing a glance for the miracle sleeping on my couch. “Okay, I need to get my shit together and go see about this customer you had that bought that stone.”
Connor frowned. “Do you think she saw anything last night?”
“Who? Your customer?”
“Yeah. Britney Goldfarb.”
I sighed. “Well, Hugo said the manifestation happened right on top of her. If we take that literally, then add in Hugo appearing and saving her...she might be questioning her life choices right about now.”
“Okay. So, I guess we need to check in with...Char, was it? The one that called and you put her on recon duty?”
I rubbed my nose and started to get myself dressed for going out, rather than lying in bed and continuing to recuperate. “Yeah. Char is just a kid, but I think I stressed enough to her not to go inside the apartment. With a manifestation last night, that stone should be good for a few days.”
“Is that your way of saying you don't think you put a teenager in harm's way?”
I chuckled. “Maybe. Except...she's no average teen. I mean, yeah, she is – teens are prone to doing dumb things, making bad decisions and thinking they know more than they do without having had any real experience.” I paused and looked at Connor. “I forgot where I was going with this.”
“Maybe she's not the person who should be left alone in this situation?”
“Well,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Char's got the hots for this boy, Charlie, so unless she's found a way to literally charm his heart, I think she's okay.”
“Even after all the correctly dumb things you listed that teenagers do?”
I moved my mouth around a little as I thought. “Yeah, probably right.”
“Okay. Well, Hugo is sleeping, so I'll go with you.”
“What? Connor, babe, no,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why? No, wait.” He held a finger up. “You're banged up, you're going to meet someone I already know, since I sold her the stone, and you're meeting a moody teen who's in love with someone that doesn't love her back. You're really going to turn down my help?”
With everything going the way it has; I just didn't want to risk him. “For one, it's potentially dangerous. For two, Hugo may wake up.”
Connor crossed his arms and leaned to one side. “He's been in your apartment before. Whatever you did with Mr. Tyrath should have made this place entirely safe, right?”
“Well.” Shit, he was kind of right.
“Good, then. Get dressed, and tell me what we know about where we're headed.”
I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “Let's call Char first and make sure Britney is still home.” Connor nodded in agreement, so I pulled out a pair of socks from the drawer, dialed up Char and sat down to pull them on.
“Nico?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah. Why you whispering?” I asked, whispering myself.
“I followed her. She left her apartment, and she's heading into a church.” She huffed. “If I knew she was coming this far north I'd have met her instead of going to the city.”
“North? What do you mean? Is she near your house?” I asked.
“Yeah. There were other churches she passed, but a lot of them aren't churches anymore. This one's Roman Catholic. You think that'll help her?”
“Nah. No such thing as gods,” I said, finishing with my socks and reaching for my boots. “Which church? She look agitated?”
“She looks scared as fuck,” Char replied. “You think that stone is leaking like the one I had?”
“Sure is,” I said. “But it had a manifestation last night, so it should be okay for today. I think.”
“Guessing she doesn't know that,” Char muttered.
“Text me the address. I'm on my way.”
I hung up and pulled on a hoodie before picking up my staff. Connor snickered. I looked at him, down at myself and back to him. “Call me Gandalf: The Young Years again. See what happens.”
Connor covered his mouth for a second and then laughed, dropping his hand and saying, “I was thinking more Gandalf: The Rebellious Youth...Years.” He burst out laughing.
“I look perfectly normal,” I insisted, and he just laughed at me. My phone buzzed with a text. I used the information and set up a ride share, then went over to see if I could rouse Hugo to tell him what was going on, but man – it was like he was in a coma. “I don't feel good leaving him here,” I told Connor.
“Can you do anything to hide him?”
I winced. “I kind of suck at glamours.”
Connor approached me and put his hand on my arm. “You can't go alone, Nico. Hugo is okay, and Mr. Tyrath seemed to think this place was pretty safe.”
I sighed and looked down at Hugo. While our personalities hadn't exactly been a match, I was fond of Hugo and worried for him. He looked peaceful in sleep, but defenseless. But if a dragon doesn't know how to obscure magic, who does? “Yeah,” I said softly. “Okay.”
Connor pulled a jacket on, and we went out front to wait for our ride. The north end of town where Char lived was called Lansingburgh, established back around the time the U.S. announced its independence. Originally it was expected to become a city more like Troy did, but instead it's mostly a bedroom community with only a single factory building left, that of Standard Manufacturing – a textile company, long gone. Most of the actual industry had been in Troy, nicknamed the Collar City due to their manufacture of, you guessed it, shirt collars. So weird to think that used to be something made separately.
So, Mr. Lansing had his burgh, and like many towns and cities from that time, it was lousy with churches. Many had lost their congregations as neighborhoods aged and young people changed faiths, lost theirs or moved away. Many of the buildings still stood, and some had new congregations – because churches in strip malls weren't weird enough, but it made a strange kind of sense when a different faith moved into the building consecrated for another. Kind of made me think of a conquest of sorts.
“So. No gods, huh?”
I looked at Connor. “What?”
“You told Char over the phone there were no gods.”
“Oh, right. I mean there have been – and are still – powerful magical beings, but they only seemed like gods because they were so powerful and not understood for what they were by people. The ones that have all that power now aren't interested in being worshiped – it's more time consuming than you'd think.”
“Is that a fact?” he asked, amusement in his tone.
“Well. Start out with having to make all these rules for your religion – and if you're not the only one writing these books of rules, you may get contradictions. Then you've got all these people praying – usually asking you for something. Cure a tumor. Let Timmy hit the ball. Find a parking spot at the mall. Win the lottery. Who has time for all that?”
“So, no one is listening for prayers?”
“Well, not to answer them, no. I'd imagine some listen for lack of anything better to do. The Fae listen to prayers, but they're assholes. They're like living Monkey's Paws, making you get what you want in the most awful way possible.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let's stay away from them.”
“You think I'm kidding?”
“I...think you'll eventually use this to tease me. Tell me things like Jackalopes exist and expect me to believe it because I know nothing of all this magic hidden in the world.”
“You don't fuck around with Jackalopes,” I muttered – whatever the hell that is. Hey, guy expects me to tease him, I'm not going to disappoint.
Our ride arrived, and we headed up the streets, moving quickly with the lack of traffic and just the odd streetlight stopping us. We pulled up in front of the address – St. Augustine's Roman Catholic church. Like many of its kind, it was old, dating back to the 1800s. Unlike many of its peers, it didn't have an immediately recognizable construction style. The ride share pulled away, and I walked back and forth in front of the building, looking at the three front doors – a main door under a canopy and two single-sized side doors,
“I don't see anyone – I'm guessing Char will meet us here?”
I nodded without looking at Connor and pulled out my phone. I texted Char and walked to one side of the building to look for a door that had been left open or something like that. My phone shook: Char said there was a door on the left side of the building that was unlocked. Odd. Why would it be unlocked? Churches used to serve a sanctuary purpose, but I wasn't aware of many – oh, there. A small sign indicated there was a priest on duty 24 hours. Not something you see much anymore and probably why Britney had come here.
I'd imagine for some people if you have some kind of an unexplained thing happen, you reach for superstition and run for a church or burn sage or rub patchouli oil on something. Whatever helps you calm down and think, that's the important part. I nodded at Connor and opened the door, making my way into the building.
I'll give church builders one thing – many of the features were beautiful. Soaring columns, curved ceilings and gilt tastefully done with a blue blush to mimic the overhead sky. A priest sitting in a chair reading looked up at our entrance. A woman I assumed to be Britney was sitting in the front row, and Char had sat several pews away, looking out of place. I nodded to the priest, and we made our way over to sit by Char.
“This place is weird,” Char said under her breath.
“I'm always impressed with the architecture,” Connor offered.
“Char, did you notice if she's wearing the stone?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I didn't get that close. I got to the address you sent me, and it was an apartment, so I was looking for a spot to hang out. I went to the end of the block and got an iced coffee, and when I came back, I was pretty sure she was the person you were looking for.”
“What makes you say that?” Connor asked.
Looking to him, Char replied quickly, “When I got there, I checked the mailboxes in the front of the building. It's small, only four apartments. Two had no name tag and one was for Wu; I figured it was less likely she'd be a Wu when I saw her.”
I nodded. “Playing the odds – good call. Just in case you're wrong or things go sideways, why don't you head back to the building?”
She sniffed and shook her head. “I can't learn if you bump me to the side.”
I rubbed under my lower lip. “I don't think you quite get the amount of 'bad' this could get to.”
“I was there for the last stone,” she said stubbornly.
“Look, Char-”
“Good evening. May I be of help?” We looked up to see the priest I'd noted reading earlier. We'd been focused enough on our conversation that we hadn't heard him quietly approach up the aisle.
“My brother is trying to make me go home, but I'm not ready,” Char replied quickly.
“Oh. I see,” the priest said calmly. “I thought you were here about the young woman in the front pew.”