Temporary Quarters

Helena was still groggy, but the difference between the police room they’d just left and the one she’d entered was like night and day.  Men and women were running about, talking into phones, scribbling down notes, and glaring at the glowing boxes on their desks.  The bulky tools were obviously more primitive versions of what the fellows in the office next door used, but this place actually felt more sophisticated.  At the fringe of the office two men were questioning a huge figure in a cloak.  At a glance there looked to be twice as many people working here in half the space. 

Kilduff walked over to a dark skinned man rapidly typing behind a slightly bigger desk.  “Sergeant Mitchell.  You know the whole story about the Samuels’ building break in?”

The man looked up.  “Heard it was related to the big murder that’s got the Captain sweating bullets.  I’ve been focusing on the kidnapping cases in the native ward instead.  What’s up?”

“We’re taking the witch the captain hired into protective custody,” Kilduff jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Helena.  “Figured you and the others should know.  I doubt the Triads would try to break into the station but….”

Mitchell nodded.  “I’ll tell the guys on duty so we don’t replay the police station scene from Terminator.”  He smiled at Helena and Kilduff’s confused expressions.  “Movie.  Don’t worry about it.  Anyway, Chris is free.  Want her to handle placement?”

Kilduff nodded.  “Good idea lad.  Lucky she’s not working.”

Helena watched in interest as Sergeant Mitchell waved over a stocky woman in uniform.  The concept of a female police officer was still a little strange to her.  Then again she was still getting used to the idea of a police force to begin with.  She’d seen women patrolling, but usually only twice a year.

Chris gave the two men a salute.  “You need me to take a statement, sir?”

“Not for this one,” Kilduff said.  “Ms. Aoede’s about as far from the women you usually work with as you can get.  Which should tell you how dangerous the fellows that did this to her are, so keep your head on straight.  Get her set up in one of the third floor offices we aren’t using, and keep an eye on her for a bit would you?”

Chris seemed confused, but simply replied, “Yes sir.”  The woman turned to Helena and extended a hand.  “Chris Hamilton.”

“Helena Aoede,” Helena replied giving the woman a polite shake.  “A pleasure.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Kilduff said.  “Nine thirty in the morning, if you can make it.  If not I’ll just have less to confess next Sunday, so don’t reopen your wounds.”  The man yawned and turned away.  “Now I’ll be getting my rest.  You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Good night to you too,” Helena muttered.

Mitchell shook his head.  “Sleep Inspector.  I can handle it.”  He looked over at Chris.  “I’ve got the Hlahla case too, so don’t worry about your workload.  Women’s shelter has pretty much got it handled anyway.”

 “Thanks Sergeant.”  Chris turned back to Helena.  “You want something to drink on the way?”

“Tea, if you have it?” Helena asked with faint hope.

Chris nodded.  “Sure, right this way.”  She led Helena towards what looked like a counter filled with coffee pots.  Helena hoped there actually was tea hidden somewhere among the poison.

When Helena saw one of the pots had only boiling water in it she quickly realized the setup.  Chris handed her a cup, and Helena grabbed one of the tea bags and finished the alchemical creation.  She was tempted to use magic to cool the tea down so she could drink it faster, but she decided that would be a waste.

“So, care to fill me in on what you’re here for?” Chris asked as the woman filled her own mug with cold water.

Helena grimaced.  She didn’t want to repeat her story in full so she settled for the quick version.  “I’m the witch your boss hired to track down the jiang-shi that murdered the man from across the river.  The jiang-shi’s controller was apparently offended, so he sent his minions to murder me in my sleep.  They failed, but not for lack of trying.”

“Wait, so you’re actually a real witch?”  The woman looked her over.  “I suppose even magic has its limits if you got that beat up.”

“Magic has no limits.  Unfortunately magicians do,” Helena replied.  “I think I did pretty good given two people attacked me while I was asleep.”

“I suppose so,” Chris replied.

The policewoman looked Helena up and down.  Trying to determine her mood?  Or guessing how she managed to escape?  Her brain tried to decipher the look then gave up and went back to hurting.  She simply sipped her tea instead.

“Well, let’s get your room set up.  Do you think you’re awake enough to take the stairs, or are you willing to risk the elevator?” Chris asked.

“I dislike the word risk right now, so the stairs should be fine,” Helena replied.  “I can fly if I get tired anyway.”

“No broomstick required eh?” Chris asked with a smile.

Helena smiled in return.  “No.  Modern witches only do that as part of the act.”

As Chris led her towards the back hallway, Helena decided to ask the question that had been gnawing on her mind since she got here.  “So, are most of the police from over the bridge?  Inspector Kilduff seems to be the only Immigrant Realm native.”

Chris looked surprised at the question.  “You noticed that, huh?  Well, HQ has more of us from outside.  Most of the people who were born here work out in the community.  No cell phones, so we have to actually keep police boxes open and walk the beat.”  She sighed.  “I really miss cell service.

“In any case Mitchell and I are a bit of an exception,” Chris said.  “Most of the people from the big city work across the way.  The old HQ is about seventy percent locals.  Only those of us that work the streets have offices here.”

Maybe it was the tea or maybe it was because she’d been needling Kilduff about it for days, but the setup finally clicked in her tired mind.  “I get it.  This is the dumping ground for the Big Apple’s police force.  All the people who didn’t fit in or who screwed up.”

“What?”  Chris’ pleasant expression vanished.  “What are you talking about?”

“It’s fairly obvious in retrospect,” Helena said softly.  “If Kilduff hadn’t been a little loose lipped I’d have never noticed it.  But when all the facts are together it’s clear.

“Let’s start with the Inspector.  He’s an Inspector, but he walks the beat like an average cop.  Whenever he tells a policeman to jump, the man is a foot in the air before asking why.  And he’s somehow built up a crew of volunteers in the areas the police can’t patrol.”  Chris stared at her as Helena quietly explained her deductions.  “He can get oni to listen to him.  It’s obvious he should be running the show.  Even if he hates magicians and ‘pagans’ he’s willing to try to ignore that and enforce the law fairly.  Not ideal, but better than most.”

Helena shrugged.  “Alone that would suggest there’s bias against Immigrant Realm natives.  And I’m sure there is, you’ve got old equipment and limited support.  But if Captain Jacobs was actually competent there’d be more friction between the two realms.  He’d be complaining about the lack of funding and support.  Instead the place is quietly handling everything on its own.”  Helena looked Chris in the eye.  “It’s running smoothly under Inspector Kilduff’s direction.  That means the Captain’s just sitting around unless his job is in trouble.  And that suggests the people across the river are just dumping those they don’t like here.”

Chris gaped at the rundown.  “Are all witches that quick to figure things out?”

“Witches that want to live long lives tend to be,” Helena said.  She shrugged.  “Also I’ve lived here for years.  And I’ve seen the Captain and the Inspector working together.  It’s simple after that.”

“I see.”  Chris shrugged.  “Well I suppose it doesn’t matter if I spill the beans then.  Yeah this is where they send the rejects and people who talk too much about police problems.  Like how they treat us female cops like crap, and plant evidence to make their lives easier.  And the few weirdos who actually like trying to work in a city where ‘magic’ is an acceptable incident report.  But I’ve come to like the work.  Not the job, but the work.”

Helena smirked.  “Most people in the Immigrant Realm are confused by the idea of an incident report anyway.  Not that I’m complaining.”  She hesitated a bit before adding, “I’m a bit surprised that people in the Immigrant Realms accept women having authority.  That’s not something my homeland is known for.  In fact I can only think of five other realms where that’s common in any way.”

“Accepting?”  Chris snorted derisively.  “I’m not sure if I’d call it that.  It’s just the local bigotry is so old and rusty that it’s almost helpful.  When people claim you’re too girly to shoot straight, a few rounds at the range will shut them up.  And a lot of women find it easier to talk with another woman, which means we’re the best witness interviewers for a lot of cases.  I mostly work on domestic violence cases myself.  Get statements and help them find a place to stay.”

“Interesting,” Helena said.  “That’s what my grandmother and aunts do most of the time.”

“I didn’t think domestic violence was illegal in the old realms.”

“My family doesn’t work through official channels,” Helena admitted.

“I suppose different places have different rules,” Chris said as she started back down the hallway.

Helena took a long sip of her tea.  “Well the rules here are probably better.  If bad for my job prospects.”

“You can’t just turn lead into gold?” Chris asked.

“The spell involves ruby dust, so it’s a net loss.”  Helena shook her head as Chris laughed.  “I’m not joking.  Transmutation is easy at a basic level, but becomes more and more difficult as you add more detail and safety measures to the process.  With a lot more training I could get better.  After all, I know someone who created a Philosopher’s Stone.  But I can’t afford the materials to experiment.”

Chris gaped at her.  “You know someone who can actually turn lead into gold?  Wouldn’t that destroy gold prices?”

Helena chuckled.  “If she used it.  But everyone who’s created a Philosopher’s Stone is already incredibly wealthy, so she only creates gold to show off.  If you can afford the experiments required to create a Philosopher’s Stone, you don’t need more gold.”

The policewoman seemed to be slowly absorbing this information as they reached the middle of the hallway.  She pulled out a key and unlocked the door across from a lit office.  Helena looked in to see a room that contained just a desk and a couch at the back.  It looked like an abandoned temple to paperwork to Helena’s tired eyes.

Chris flipped the light switch and cursed as the bulb proceeded to flicker and die.  “I thought we put in an order for the electrical work here a month ago?  Bet it’s sitting on some paper shoveler’s desk.”

Helena snapped her fingers and conjured an orb of light into the bulb.  The glow was a little more dim then the lights in the hall, but not nearly as harsh.  “This should do.”  She looked over glum space.  “I guess I’m sleeping on the couch?”

Chris looked up at the light.  “Well it’ll save on electricity I guess.”  She then turned back to Helena.  “Yeah, I’m afraid so.  The only beds are in the cells, and the couches are more comfortable.  I’ve tried to convince the brass to get a few beds for kids or other witnesses we need to hold here overnight, but that costs money so….”

“It’s fine.  I should be able to fit.  One of the benefits of being small.”  Helena downed the rest of her tea.

“I’ll get some blankets and a pillow then,” Chris said.  “One second, okay?”

“Thank you,” Helena said.

As the policewoman headed back down the hallway Helena walked over to the sofa and gingerly sat down.  As her body relaxed her mind started to drift and sink, only kept afloat by the painful throb of her injuries.  At least the cuts had settled from the sharp pain to a general malaise.  Hopefully that was because of her healing and not the jiang-shi’s claws.  There was no poison but the chill of the grave infused them.  The cuts were more likely to sour than usual if not treated.  She’d probably lost more blood than she really wanted too as well.  None of the cuts had been deep, but-

Terror sent her heart into overdrive and she lurched upright.  The jiang-shi had her blood.  And even if their aura had ruined the connection, she’d left plenty of blood all over the city.

“Hecate preserve me from my own stupidity,” she hissed as she fished some chalk out of her pouch.  She stood, walked over to the desk, and started drawing circles to serve as the base of her spell.

“Whoa!”

Helena screwed up a line and swore again.  She looked up to see Chris standing in the doorway with the blankets and pillow.  “You startled me.”

“Yeah you startled me too,” the policewoman said.  “What’s all that about?”

“I need to make sure my blood can’t be used against me,” Helena said as she wiped off the malformed circle and started over.  “It’s not as dangerous as blood freely given, but it’s a weakness.”

Chris stared down at her handiwork in rapt fascination.  “But how are you going to do that?  I mean you’re here and your blood is out there.”

Helena took a breath and forced herself to slow down as she started placing the runes of linking around the circle.  “Yes.  But connections work both ways.  The blood has a connection to me, so I have a connection to the blood.  I’m going to use that to convert my blood into air.  The blood that’s not inside me anyway.”  She looked up for a moment.  “Don’t worry about asking questions.  It helps the ritual if I explain it.”  Chris seemed like a down to earth woman, so convincing her that Helena’s magic made a twisted sense would serve as a good anchor.

“Well, now I don’t know what question to start with,” Chris said with a weak smile.  “Um, why air?  Why not fire or water or something?”

“Elemental humors,” Helena replied.  She smiled weakly.  “It’s wrong, but it’s what I learned as a child.  Blood is the sanguine humor, connected to air.”  She started writing the air runes as she explained.  “But knowing that blood comes from bone marrow instead of the liver makes it easier to do the conversion.  I can use that as the basis of the earth part of the spell.  It’s best to use all of the classic elements when playing around with symbolism.”

Chris looked at the near complete rune, inspecting it like it was fine art.  “So do you do this every time you cut yourself?  Seems like it would be hard.  And what about other bits of your body?”

“I can just wipe up the blood from small cuts,” Helena said.  “Things like strands of hair and nail clippings can be used as well, but the bond is very weak.  And that would be violating the rules.”

“Murder’s violating the rules too,” Chris pointed out.  “The man sent two assassins after you.”

Helena shook her head.  “But I could defend against them.  I’m still alive.  I might have done better if I hadn’t been dumb and neglected my window’s magical defenses.  But there’s no way to defend against someone following me around and grabbing strands of hair.”  Helena shook her head.  “The only protection you have against someone who does that is to kill them first.  And magicians are very good at preemptive self defense.”

Helena finished the water section, then looked over the circle.  Everything seemed in place.  Now to activate it.  She squeezed one of her cuts and a single drop of her blood fell into the circle.  The circle glowed blue then the blood seemed to just evaporate.  Helena was pleased when she saw the blood on her shift vanish as well.  “That’s nice.  Saves me some cleaning.”

“Well I’m glad you won’t turn into a toad while you’re here,” Chris said.  “Anything else you need?  Or have planned?  We don’t want anyone walking in and thinking you’re trying to start a zombie apocalypse if you happen to be scribbling any more runes down.”

Helena stared down at the now useless rune and tried to gather her thoughts.  Her plans sat stubbornly out of reach as her mind grasped at them, but she could make out the edges of her problems.  She was tired.  She was weakened.  And she had less than six hours to get everything she needed for a fight, and to recover from the ambush.

All of that was impossible.  If nothing else she wasn’t going to be able to heal up in time.

She needed to be clear headed.  The fatigue was distracting her, and distracted magicians ended up making dangerous mistakes.  She considered using magic to banish the fatigue, but she was short on magical energy as well.  She needed rest.

“Are you all right?” Chris waved a hand in front of Helena’s face.

“Oh!  Sorry sorry.”  Helena shook her head.  “I’m going to hibernate.  I’ll also put an alarm rune on the door.  It will glow and hum and look dangerous, but it won’t actually do anything.”

Chris blinked.  “Hibernate?”

Helena rolled the word over in her mind to make sure she wasn’t misusing it.  “Torpor.  That’s the word.  A very deep sleep.  I won’t be able to wake normally for four hours.”  She winced.  “It’s the only way I’ll be able to recover by tomorrow.  I should be safe here.”

“Should be?” Chris said.  “What if we need to move you because of a fire or something?”

The idea bounced around in Helena’s mind.  “That… would be a problem.  I’ll add an emergency wake up clause.”  Of course if she was woken up early she’d be miserable for a week, but it was a small gamble.

Chris snorted.  “Sounds more like a computer program than magic now.  Well if you’ve got it handled I’ll get back to the rest of my work.  There’s a bathroom down this way, and a water fountain as  well.  If you need something else before you go to sleep, I should be at my desk.”

“Thank you very much,” Helena said as the woman walked out and shut the door behind her.

With that done Helena walked over to the door.  A few chalk lines made a rune of alarm, and a circle inscribed with light to make the chalk glow when disturbed.  She then drew a bunch of scary looking symbols around it to keep people from stepping on it.

That finished she fished around in her pouch for the materials she’d need.  Mandrake, poppy, and a single drop of cobra venom.  Sleep and healing.  She grabbed the cup and floated to the fountain to fill it with water before adding the ingredients and filling the slurry with magic.  After a moment’s thought she used the bathroom next to it before returning to her room, shutting the door and locking it.

Helena moved over and sat on the couch looking over the potion she’d created.  It was safe.  She knew it was safe.  She’d added spells to wake her if someone did attack her in the police station, and her bell should warn her of danger if those failed.  And she’d fished out one of her stronger spell scrolls for defense if something did go wrong.

But her hands were still trembling.  The sound of splintering wood hung at the edge of her consciousness.  The straining of wood pushed past its limits.  A nightmare waiting for her on the other side.

She forced herself to chug the potion.  It tasted sour, but when it reached her stomach a warmth began flowing out into the rest of her body.  Helena had just enough time to curl up on the couch and pull the blanket up, before everything became dark.