Magic Burns 01

[OOC: Disclaimer, the situations and dialogue are all from Magic Burns. I have merely switched the POV from Kate to Andrea.]

I unlocked the door to the armory and stood to gaze at my domain. Another glorious day in the Order of Merciful Aid. Seven years of a stellar record serving and protecting those who couldn't protect themselves from the magical HazMat left over by the magical waves that have been hitting the world for decades and now, now I'm a glorified clerk. I have one mission go bad and I land here, in Atlanta, with a boss, one Ted Moynohan, who doesn't trust me. A boss who keeps me locked up in the Armory and off of active duty. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer right? Well, at least I can serve by making sure the equipment is in good shape. You need to be able to depend on your equipment right?

A few hours into my morning and I'm cleaning a Glock 21C (a decent enough weapon though nothing to a Sig Sauer if you want my humble opinion) when I get a visitor in the form of one Kate Daniels; tall, dark, and svelte to my short, blond, and stocky. If there was anyone my boss trusted less than me, it'd be Kate. A loose cannon, she was brought in to investigate the death of the Chapter's Knight-Diviner a few months ago and ended up on the payroll as a liaison between the Mercenary Guild and the Order. It was about this time that I realized she was just standing there looking at me.

"You need something?" I asked politely.

Kate blinked before replying, "I need to ID a crossbow bolt."

Be still my heart, this was almost like a case. I made a come-here gesture with my free hand while I put the Glock on the cleaning cloth. "Give."

Kate held out a brown paper bag and I did my best not to roll my eyes. A paper bag. Really, what sort of evidence keeping were they teaching these days? Once I pulled out the bolt (being careful to hold it by the paper) I couldn't help the whistle that escaped my lips. This was a nice piece of work. Blood-red and fletched with three black feathers, it was about two feet long. Several, inch-long black lines marked the shaft just before the fletch as well; nine marks in all. Beautiful and deadly. 

"Nice," I said. "This is a carbon shaft. It can't be bent. Very durable and expensive. Looks like a 2216, designed to bring down medium-sized game, deer, some bear…"

"Human," Kate interrupted as she leaned against the wall and sipped her coffee.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Good power, good trajectory without any significant sacrifice in speed. It's a man-killer. Look at the head–small, three-blade, weights about a hundred grains. Reminds me a lot of a Wasp Boss series. Some people go for mechanical broad heads, but with a good crossbow the acceleration is so sudden, it opens the blades in flight and there goes your accuracy down the drain. If I were to pick a broad head, I'd pick something like this." I twisted the bolt, letting the light from the window play on the blades of the head. "Hand sharpened. Where did you get this?"

She told me; a bag-and-tag case that went sour, resulting in the death of the tag, killed with the bolt by parties unknown. I frowned in thought, "The fact that you didn't hear the bow go off probably means it's a recurve. A compound crossbow 'twangs' at release. Can I fire it?" I nodded toward my man-shaped target boards to make sure she knew I didn't mean at her. People can be jumpy.

"Sure."

I put the bolt down, still wrapped in the paper, to put on gloves so as to keep the magic residue to a minimum. Grabbing a small crossbow off the bench, I loaded, swung it up, and fired. The bolt whistled through the air and bit into the center of the man's forehead. Bull's-eye, as always. I saw Kate flinch out of the corner of my eye and wondered if I should have taken some time to aim first. Oh well.

The fey lanterns flickered and faded. On the wall, the dusty electric fixture flared with soft yellow light. The magic wave had drained and the world had shifted from magic back to tech. Kate and I looked at each other. Nobody could predict the duration of the shifts: the magic came and went as it pleased. But the waves rarely lasted less than an hour. This one had been what, fifteen minutes?

"Is it me, or is it shifting more than usual?" Kate asked though we both knew the answer.

"It's not you." I said as I walked over to free the bolt. "Want me to scan it for magic?" 

"If it's not too much trouble." Magic had the annoying tendency of dissipating over time. The sooner you could scan your evidence, the better you chances of getting a power print.

"Trouble?" I asked and leaned into her personal space. "I've been off-line for two months. It's killing me. I have cobwebs growing on my brain." I pressed my finger below my right eye, pulling the lower eyelid down. "Look for yourself."

Kate laughed at my joke, half convincing me she was all right. I walked the bolt over to the magic scanner, raised the glass hood, slid the bolt onto the ceramic tray, lowered the cube, and cranked the lever. The cube descended and the m-scanner whirled.

"Andrea?"

"Mmm?"

"The tech's up," Kate said.

I grimaced, feelings stupid for making such a rookie mistake. "Oh, Christ. Probably won't get anything. Well, you never know. Sometimes you can pull some residual magic imprints even during tech."

We looked at the cube. We both knew it was futile. You would have to scan something really saturated with magic to get a good m-scan during tech. Like a body part. The m-scanner analyzed the traces of residual magic left on an object by its owner and printed them in a variety of colors: blue for human, green for shapeshifter, purple for vampire. The tone and vividness of the colors denoted the different types of magic, and reading an m-scan correctly was practically an art form. The traces of magic on a bolt, probably held very briefly, were bound to be minuscule.

The printer chattered. I pulled the print out and turned to Kate. My shock must have been clear for Kate looked confused for a second before she looked at the print out as well. A wide line of silvery blue cut across the paper. Human divine. That in itself was not remarkable. Anybody who drew their power from deity or religion registered as human divine: the Pope, Shaolin monks, even a knight-diviner, would register silver-blue. The problem was, we shouldn't have been able to get an m-scan at all with the tech up.

"What does this mean? Is the residual magic just incredibly strong on this thing?" Kate asked.

I shook my head. "The magic waves have been really erratic lately."

We looked at each other. We both knew what rapid-fire waves meant: a flare. And this city needed a flare like I needed a hole in the head. Bad things happened in flares, and giant monsters were the least of it.

Kate got the faraway look in her eyes that suggested Maxine, our telepathic receptionist, was "talking" to Kate, likely letting her know she had a call or a petitioner. Gods, I'd kill for a petition right about now. Kate looked back to me long enough to thank me before heading to her office.

Well, back to cleaning guns.