Author: me alsome

Helena looked up from the book she’d been reading as she felt someone trying to contact her.  She’d sent out a number of messages to her family and friends yesterday in order to confirm Hsu’s story, but she’d expected a letter in reply.

She stood and approached the mirror, letting the connection open up between her and her friend.  Her reflection melted away, to be replaced by a smiling young woman with long green hair and a wispy dress who looked more like a mad fey then a witch.  “Hello Kseniya.  I wasn’t expecting you to contact me directly.”

“It’s nice to talk in person,” Kseniya said.  “Besides, Lyudmila is on a short trip.  It’s been quiet here with just Shizuka and I.”  Her smile faded.  “I’m also a little worried about what I found.  Has this Long Zhou Di moved to the immigrant realm?”

“That’s what Gold Rat Hsu said,” Helena replied.  “What did you find?”

“He’s a combat mage, like you.”  Kseniya glanced at a set of notes.  “But he’s far more brutal.  He’s the second son of a lesser magician.  No family or school history, so he went by Long of Liyu Shan.  After his brother died in a magical accident he started taking big risks to gain power and money.  People were calling him ‘Silver Sword Zhou’ before he claimed the title of Living Dragon.”

That was strange.  Helena considered it.  A title like that indicated Zhou had earned some fame in magical society on his own.  She’d earned the title Curse Gunner because of her skill in battle, and the way she mixed curses and magical bullets.  “So he’s good with a sword?”

Kseniya nodded.  “Yes.  He likes to overwhelm opponents then stab them when their defenses collapse.  Not very nice, but I suppose it works.”

“Now why did he fight over the title of Living Dragon if he was going to earn one legitimately?” Helena mused.  It was just so tacky.

Kseniya shrugged elegantly.  “Perhaps he really wanted it?  Maybe a childhood promise?  He seemed quite affected by his brother’s death.”

Helena shook her head.  “Maybe.  Family is important.  I’ll keep it in mind.”

“So why were you asking?” Kseniya said as she put her notes away.  “Just keeping track of new magicians?”

“He might have murdered someone,” Helena said.  “Or at least that’s what Gold Rat Hsu says.  I’m looking into it.”  She didn’t want to explain the job just yet.  It would be embarrassing to claim she had work if the deal fell through later.

“I see.”  Kseniya’s expression showed she knew Helena was hiding something, but unlike her sister Lyudmila the young witch wouldn’t press the matter.  “Well hopefully that helped a little.”

Helena nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you.”  She smiled.  “So what’s Lyudmila doing?  Still selling toys at the village?”

Kseniya giggled.  “Not this time.  She’s found a Fae lord who can breath water.  She’s going to make a bargain with it.”

“That seems like a really easy spell.  But I suppose it’s useful.”  Helena shrugged.  She didn’t really understand the principles of bargaining.  The magical discipline didn’t work well with her bloodline.  Those with Fae blood had a much easier time working out the details.

“You know she loves collecting small spells like that.  Just like how I love collecting magical creatures,” Kseniya said.

Helena laughed.  “You don’t actually keep them though.  Well except Shizuka.”

Kseniya blushed.  “Shizuka’s special.  Besides, I accidentally summoned her into existence.  I had to take responsibility for her.”

“True.”  Helena sighed, the weight of her job returning.  “We magicians have to take responsibility for a lot of things.”

“Just remember you don’t have to take responsibility for everything,” Kseniya said.  “We can leave minor details to normal humans.”

“Yeah yeah,” Helena shrugged.  She liked the satisfaction of finishing matters personally, but she had to admit some stuff was better left to others.  “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about Kseniya?”

The other magician shook her head.  “Not in particular.  I’m sure Lyudmila will reach out to you soon.  And we’ll definitely meet up before Walpurgisnacht.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Helena said.  It would be good to sit down and relax with her oldest friends.  “I’d love to chat more but I should speak with my goddess today.”

“Of course.  Take care Helena.  And say hello to Aoi for us,” Kseniya bowed then let the connection fade.  The mirror fogged, then returned to showing Helena’s reflection.

Well that had been interesting.  It seemed Long Zhou Di’s reputation matched what Hsu had told her.  If he was desperate for money and power, the Triads were the way to go for a man from the Middle Kingdoms.  And even if he wasn’t guilty of the murders, it was just a good idea to keep track of other combat mages in the city.  Especially those who liked picking fights.

But she could start searching tomorrow with the Inspector’s help.  Right now she had to make an offering.

She collected a bottle of wine and a few other items, then headed out into the city towards the Hall of the Gods.  Hecate rarely gave direct answers, even to her descendants, but right now Helena could use any guidance she could get.  Given how much she owed her goddess, she’d be happy if Hecate just accepted her offerings.  Keeping Apollo distracted was hard work.

The Hallway of the Gods was a strange building, no matter what deity you followed, but it was desperately needed in the Immigrant Realm.  Land here was expensive.  While the followers of Zeus or Vishnu had no trouble getting temples, smaller congregations couldn’t afford a roadside shrine, much less purchase an area big enough to perform sacrifices or other rituals.  The Hall of the Gods was a compromise.  A place where any worshiper could perform an offering, within reason.

Helena walked beneath the torii gate that hung over the entrance and took a look around.  While the Japanese shrines along the wall had a few worshipers, the back room was empty.  Good.  She’d be able to perform her ceremony without waiting on any other priest or priestess.  Sacrifices for Hecate were usually quick.  Other deities demanded a lot more ceremony.

“Hi, Helena,” a woman whispered in her ear.  The sudden voice sent Helena’s heart racing and she whirled around to face the speaker.  

Of course it was just the resident shrine maiden.  The woman burst into giggles at her reaction.  Helena glared up at her friend with narrowed eyes.  “What was that for, Aoi?!”

“For fun of course,” Aoi said sweetly as she led Helena out of the entryway.  “Why should I need a reason to surprise one of my friends?”  She folded her hands with a natural grace Helena couldn’t help but envy.  They were both priestesses, but Aoi enjoyed the full power of her gods.

“If you want a surprise so badly I’ll be happy to put a karakasa in your closet,” Helena replied.  Then she smiled at the other woman.  “How have you been, Aoi?”

Aoi carefully dusted off the red hakama and white gi that served as her uniform.  “It’s been fairly uneventful here.  We’ll have the o-bon festival in a month, but that’s all handled by the community.  I’ll just need to perform some basic rituals.”  She looked over at Helena.  “I can still count on you to help, right?”

“Of course, Aoi,” Helena said.  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Thanks.”  Aoi folded her arms.  “So, are you here for that conversation you owe me?  Or just for your usual rituals?”

Helena winced.  Oh right, she owed the shrine maiden.  She’d have to think of a way to escape that.  “My own rituals, sorry.  After all, I got a job!”

Aoi brightened at that.  “Congratulations, Helena!  I know you had a hard time getting more work since that last job.  So what is it?”

“The police asked me to find a murderer for them,” Helena replied. “I may want to ask you for some information as well.  You know the north side of the island better than me.”

Aoi’s bright expression faded.  “A police investigation?  For a murder?  Wait, is this the zombie murder the papers were all talking about?  Helena, why can’t you get normal jobs?”

“I didn’t realize it had become famous,” Helena muttered.  “Well it doesn’t matter.  Witches don’t have normal jobs.”  She grimaced as she remembered the sorry state of her funds.  “Besides, it was this or miss rent.  I’d fight Achilles to avoid that embarrassment.”

“I see.”  Aoi sighed and shook her head.  “It looks like we’re having a long talk today whether you like it or not.”  She waved Helena towards the back room.  “Go sacrifice to your goddess.  I’ll wait for you out here.”

Helena gave her friend a weak smile.  “And if I decide to escape?”

Aoi poked her in the shoulder.  “Your invisibility spells are a joke.  And while you’re a dozen times better than me in a duel this is my shrine and I can cheat.  There’s no escape for you now, Curse Gunner!”

Aoi’s ‘threat’ made her chuckle.  “I’d actually enjoy a friendly match, but fine.  I’ll be out in a few minutes, Aoi.”

She turned and walked along the far wall to the back room.  The air here was warmer from the flames within, and dozens of idols glimmered in the firelight.  Helena entered and faced Hecate’s symbol to the northwest, ignoring other gods.  She carefully placed each ritual item and her sacrifices in a line for easy access then began to pray.

With careful practiced motions she threw leaves from the three sacred plants into the flame, the fresh greenery causing smoke to rise each time.  As the smoke drifted upward Helena relaxed her wards and let magic just flow out into the space around her.  The flames twisted around each other as she did and the holy icons around here seemed to flicker and sway.  In the corner of her eyes she could see lights blinking in and out of reality, but those were simply illusions.  A test to prevent the careless and foolhardy from continuing the ritual.

Helena ignored it and held up her second sacrifice, wine mixed with honey.  Not the cheap boxed wine that she normally had to drink, but a rich wine from Minos.  She carefully poured it out before the altar, allowing it to hiss against the fire, but not put it out.  More smoke and steam swirled as she completed the sacrifice, and in the magic rich air, figures seemed to twist and twirl within the smoke.  Snakes and dogs drifted in and out of reality as Helena put the empty bottle down.

Finally she pulled out her third sacrifice.  A wand she’d taken from the magician she’d defeated not too long ago.  With a sharp motion she broke the magical instrument in two, then tossed it onto the flames.  As it burned she closed her eyes and offered her thanks.  Thanks for her lucky break, thanks for her power, and thanks for offering divine aid during that argument in the marketplace.  She also asked for guidance in the future.

There was no flash of revelation in the smoke and flame.  Her great great grandmother had offered enough recently.  So as Helena felt the swirling figures in the air start to become more real, she turned and walked out of the room.  The spirits of Hecate were dangerous to look upon, even for someone who shared the goddess’ bloodline.

The cool air of the main shrine building hit her with a rush, banishing her contemplative mood.  Aoi quietly shut the door behind her.  “All done?” the shrine maiden asked.

“Yes.”  Helena walked over to the ritual fountain and washed her hands and mouth out.  “Good idea closing the door behind me.  But it should be safe now.  I didn’t offer an animal today.”

“Give me some credit as a priestess, Helena,” Aoi said.  “I know when a god is in my shrine.”

Helena smiled in apology.  “Sorry.”

Aoi smirked.  “You’re forgiven, for now.  So!  Where do you want to talk?”

“Don’t you have to keep watch on the shrines?” Helena asked, motioning to the petitioners wandering in and out.

“I can walk away for a few hours,” Aoi replied.  “Besides the gods watch over their shrines.”  Aoi pulled a paper slip from her sleeve and stuck it to the wall.  Helena raised an eyebrow then nodded in understanding.  The ofuda would summon a guardian if anyone disturbed the peace here.  It seemed Aoi was willing to give the gods a little help.

“Anywhere outside is fine,” Helena said.

Aoi nodded.  “Then let’s retire to the rose garden next door, and I can force you to do some thinking.”

Helena frowned.  “I’m always thinking.”

“Well, it’s time for you to think about something different,” Aoi said as she used a ribbon to tie back her long hair.  “Specifically why you’re a mess when you aren’t running towards a fight, and how to fix that.”

Helena sighed.  This was going to be a painful conversation.

Helena frowned as she looked at her sparse wardrobe.  She didn’t even consider trying to fit in, since she’d never owned Chinese clothing of any era.  Her kimono would be considered an insult, so she stuck with a pleated peplos.  She’d added a copper torque as a slight bow to fashion, but now she’d reached a more painful decision.  She should wear a crown of oak, yew, and cypress, to show off her home realm and her status as a priestess.  But she felt odd without her mildly battered witch hat.  She’d worn one like it since she was a child.  She looked back and forth between the two accessories.

That question echoed through her head and she hissed in annoyance.  What was the point acting?  She couldn’t face down another wizard if she was pretending to be someone else.  Gold Rat Hsu could look down on her all he wanted.  She was Helena Aoede, the Curse Gunner, and she’d teach him fear if she needed to!

With a swift move she snatched up the witches hat and put it on.  That decided she grabbed her pouch and hurried out the door.  If she left now she’d be spared the indignity of flying through the city again.

The urgency of the meeting must have quickened her pace, because she arrived at the restaurant five minutes early.  And she was glad she did.  The Shining Carp Restaurant was an edifice of wood and stone, placed on pillars above a pool filled with swimming fish.  All in a space that should only be able to fit a hand cart.  Viewed from the left and the right the building was just an odd shimmer, but from the front it popped fully into focus.  A hidden object rewarding the viewer for their cunning persistence.

Helena wasn’t the only person who paused to look at the trick, but she doubted anyone else understood the effort that the spell took.  Someone had taken the empty lot and turned it into a dimensional portal.  The building wasn’t actually bigger than space would allow.  The lot was a portal to the restaurant.  A quick check showed that the building’s corners matched the four cardinal directions, and someone had put pillars with the four Chinese guardian gods at each point.  Common feng-shui magic, but the strength of the effect showed a spellcaster who was both practiced and skilled as an artificer.

She considered that as she crossed the zig zag bridge to the front door.  While this level of work was technically possible for a lesser magician, it seemed likely that Ling Wei Hsu had done it himself.  That fit with what she knew about the man.  This wasn’t just a good restaurant.  He had picked this place as a show of power.

Which meant it was only fair if she showed off a little too.  She reached into her pouch and pulled out the bell she always carried.  A simple loop of string and a whispered charm added it securely to her wrist.  The building was set up to banish dark magic, and reinforce social power.  But the killing stone contained in the bell was a curse on a whole different level.  The artifact only allowed Helena to carry it because she’d earned it, and even then it was capricious.  It should give Hsu something to think about.

Of course this was all for impressing other magicians.  She doubted the server who greeted her at the entrance noticed.  “Greetings gracious guest.  Doctor Hsu is on the upper level.  Please follow me.”

“Thank you,” Helena responded as she let the woman lead her up the stairs.  The woman had used the term for a college doctor, rather than a practitioner of medicine or magic.  That was odd.  Perhaps Hsu had some modern sensibilities.

The upper deck of the restaurant was filled with exquisite art.  Vases and calligraphy prints were carefully arranged around the room, and the sides had a lovely view of the pond below.  A buffer zone of empty tables had been created around a corner table, where a man in an extra long sleeved tunic and wearing a Ming era functionary hat sat waiting.

The heavyset mustached man did not rise when she arrived.  He merely indicated the opposite seat.  “So you decided to meet with me, Curse Gunner Helena.  Good.  People who I have strong connections with wanted me to speak with you.”

Helena slipped into the chair, leaving the server to quickly retreat.  “People you have connections to, Gold Rat Hsu?  That’s too bad.  I was hoping to speak to you on magical matters.  Not political ones.”  She picked up the pot of tea that had been sitting on the table and poured a cup for both of them.  Even if Hsu was being rude, the rules of etiquette should be followed.

“Hmph.”  The man gave her a nod and an appraising glance at the use of his title.  Did he think she was too stupid to learn about Eastern magicians?  Or maybe he thought he’d kept a low enough profile to be overlooked.  Given Helena somehow hadn’t known he was part of the Triads until today he was doing something right.  “An archaic witch like you might be able to avoid politics, but those of us who have to use items other than goat intestines in our magic have to care about money.  And money is best earned in groups.”

“I’m well aware of the power of money,” Helena said.  “Goats are expensive.  I just have my pride as a witch.”

Hsu sniffed again.  “Is that why you’re working as a policewoman?  I suppose it’s better than your last job as an assassin, but hardly what I would call witches’ work.  Running around hunting ghosts is a job for a priest, and battling demons is for heroes.  You’d probably find things much more profitable selling potions to women with love issues and cursing cheating merchants.  If you stuck to those matters you’d make ten times what you’re making now in a month.”

Helena folded her hands.  “I see.”  There was the bribe attempt.  Decently subtle, but still obvious enough that anyone with two brain cells would figure it out.  It was mildly insulting.  She’d hoped to be worthy of a more intricate offer.

She mulled over petty vengeance as the server came and placed several dishes on the table.  She didn’t recognize much more than the rice and an eggplant dish, but it seemed to be a sizable amount of food.  Both of them nodded to the server, who bowed in return and retreated.

As she dished out rice, she constructed her refusal.  She wanted to make sure the Gold Rat Wizard knew she’d understood his offer and all it entailed.  “It’s possible that certain people might pay a great deal of money if I found less exciting work, but that seems foolish in the long term.  The police might not know.  But heaven and earth look down on magicians who perform a job halfheartedly.  You and I both know a bad reputation will last longer than any organization’s financial appreciation.”

“Hah!”  Helena nearly jumped in her seat as the heavyset man waved his chopsticks towards her.  “Typical youngster thinking.  Always showing off to anyone who will watch.  Getting in petty duels.  Making a big scene with their magic instead of handling matters quietly.  Such foolishness.  I had hoped as a woman you’d be a bit more reasonable, or at least restrained, but it seems children these days are equally short-sighted.  You’re just as big a fool as that Long Zhou Di.

“Long Zhou Di?” Helena asked.  She’d been expecting a threat, not a story.

Hsu picked over some of the meat and asparagus before responding.  “That’s right.  He’s a youngster like you.  Barely fifty.  He calls himself the Living Dragon.  Claimed it himself of course.”  The man shook his head and Helena found herself doing the same.  “Killed three other youngsters holding it, like a brawler fighting in every kwoon in the city.  At least you had the decency to let our peers name you.  He’s flashy, attention grabbing.  Everything a good magician shouldn’t be.”

“I’m not sure if a magician shouldn’t be flashy, but I agree fighting for your title is childish,” Helena said.  She wasn’t sure what Hsu was getting at, but she did agree that wasn’t the best first impression.  Titles were supposed to be a representation of what your peers thought about you.

“Sadly people like Long Zhou Di excite other young men who can’t understand how to be a man without acting like a baboon.  Bringing even more bad attention on the group as a whole.”  Hsu tapped his finger against the table.  “He may get results, yes.  But what seemed like a good ending can turn sour later.  The size of the fruit doesn’t determine how many worms it has.  Older and wiser men may find a person like Long Zhou Di to be a danger to everyday business.  They might turn an eye away from fights he gets himself into.”

So that’s what it was.  Helena studied the man before her as she considered what he said.  It seemed that the Triads had more than one magician now.  And the old guard didn’t like the fresh new face.  Specifically the old guardsman in front of her was willing to give her, and through her the police, the man’s name.  However she wasn’t certain if he was offering up Long Zhou Di with the knowledge of the other bosses, or just because Hsu wanted the man dealt with himself.  She’d have to press him.

“Strange,” Helena remarked.  “While not an official saying in either of our realms, I find that victory tends to excuse all actions.  At least among men who only look at profit.  Reckless action that succeeds is often considered bold.”

Hsu did his best to hide his sour face by eating a chicken foot.  “A barbaric saying.  I despise it, because it’s true.  Success often leads to forgiveness.”  Hsu leaned forward and looked her in the eyes.  “However, success must be earned.  If a man was attacked by a mere woman, asking for extra aid would be a sign of failure.  Even if that woman had a certain degree of fame.  And if that woman were to defeat him, well, that would be a sign of his incompetence.  The matter would be swept under the rug.”

Helena leaned back in her chair.  So the organization was letting her take a shot at this ‘Living Dragon,’ Long Zhou Di.  It was a test for the new blood.  Hsu was probably the only one who wanted her to win, but they had effectively said they’d stay out of the fight.

That was better than she could hope for in a fight with the Triads.  She felt confident she could kill any human thug sent after her, and most supernatural ones as well. But her friends were not as well protected.  And she had enough trouble with assassins after angering Apollo.  She didn’t need more.

The words however still made her blood heat.  The Triads were treating her as a patsy for their own benefit.  And the misogyny didn’t improve her opinion.  “I see what you’re saying.  I guess this ‘mere woman’ will solve the matter that all those men in your organization couldn’t.”

“Hmph, well in the end that is a witch’s job.  To add chaos where order has failed,” Hsu replied as he ate his rice.  “I feel doing so through battle is foolishness, but then my goal is to provide order, not chaos.”

“The organization you work with is a force for order?” Helena sniffed.

“That’s right.  It is.”  Hsu jabbed his chopsticks towards her again.  “Your home realm might be a mess because of the drunken fool who leads your gods, but I am well aware you have lived in a semi functioning realm.”

Hsu twirled his hand around at the brick buildings surrounding the peaceful restaurant.  “You’ve seen our city.  The fools across the bridge claim to own this realm, but they don’t care about it.  So long as they can buy their magical curios and gawk at the mystical beings at the market, they’re satisfied.  Who then runs the city?  The police?  Hah!  The ones here barely can keep up with crime.

“No the duty of governance must fall to the merchants, despised as they are.”  Hsu placed his chopsticks down.  “We give this city order.  We make Chinatown prosper.  That is the order I create.”

“As long as we ignore the occasional murder,” Helena replied.

Hsu shrugged.  “Order requires power.  Power requires proof.”

Helena raised an eyebrow.  “Maybe that’s because you men suck at it.  Why not hand over the power to us agents of chaos for a bit and see how much better we do things?”

“Ha!”  Hsu shook his head.  “I’ve seen what an Empress will do to maintain order.  At best you are just as bloody minded as men when you are in charge.  I will stick to the way things always have been.  I like it.”

“Only because you’re in charge,” Helena said.

To her surprise the man burst out laughing.  “My wife says the exact same thing.”  He recovered quickly.  “Of course, she doesn’t talk about getting in fights with other mages.”

Helena sipped her tea.  “It’s fun.  You should try it more often.  It’s more fun if it’s a friendly match instead of a death duel though.”  She looked him right in the eyes.  “In fact if you’re willing we could duel right now, Gold Rat Hsu.”  It would be fun to slam a spell in his face.

Hsu shook his head.  “I don’t know if I should blame your drunken gods or the Realm of Illusion for your bloodthirst,” Hsu said.  “Well it matters not in the end.  I again suggest you quit this matter and take up potion selling.  It’s more profitable.”

She responded by taking a bite out of the steamed fish.  “When you invite me to dinner again, order this dish.  It’s really good.  It’ll help me ignore your ‘organization’s’ veiled threats.”

“Tch.  Just as arrogant, but at least you have better taste in food than that fool,” Hsu muttered.  “We shall see what happens.”

The bright signs of Chinatown cut through Helena’s dark thoughts.  Red and yellow signs shimmered and sparkled in the light, small magics drawing attention to them.  Helena smiled as a lovingly crafted dragonfly zipped in front of her before landing on a candy stall, drawing several small children in its wake.  A carp kite turned into a dragon and raced through the sky before coiling around a restaurant sign.  The stale brick of the buildings were the same as everywhere else in the city, but the magic and color brought the place to life.  It reminded her of the Realms of Illusion during a festival, and the fun times she’d had with friends there.

With a lighter heart she turned her attention to the stores around her.  Magicians quickly found the best place to buy supplies, and there was only one stop that had the items needed to create and maintain a powerful jiang-shi.  But it was possible the magician they were looking for had bought items from several curio shops to hide their trail.  Helena had to check

The first store was a farce.  Their ‘powdered dragon bone’ wasn’t even a fossil, much less real dragon.  The next few stores she peered in, but while they had dragon bone and cinnabar, they lacked Yao Grass paper.  The last curio shop she just walked right past.  The place reeked of the owner’s second rate magic, and it clung to the items within like cheap perfume.  No real magician would use something from that shop, and if anyone was stupid enough to try it would be obvious to anyone who could sense magic where they’d bought the goods.

That left one possible supplier.  A place she’d often considered going, but had never really had the money to frequent.

“You’re heading to that Mei’s Emporium, right.” Inspector Kilduff said.

She started then looked up at the policeman.  “Yes.  It’s the obvious place for a magician with interest in Asian magic to shop.  Miyabedo is better for Onmyouji, but Mei’s is the best for a Taoist.  More rare minerals in stock, and that’s what our culprit needs.”

“I understood none of that, but pretend I did,” Kilduff said.  “Am I supposed to just stand around while you talk heresy with the shopkeep, or is there something I need to be doing in your little plan?”

“Go ask the usual questions of course.”  Helena shrugged.  “You be a policeman.  I’ll handle the magical investigation.”

Mei’s Emporium was down a short flight of stairs in an alley just off the main street.  The sign was a simple red and gold plaque, but there was a very subtle charm on it designed to draw the attention of anyone searching for mystic items.  It wasn’t strong, but it was very effective.  The sign of a weak magician who had spent many years refining their craft.  A chime rang as they walked in.

The air in the shop was sharp, filled with strange spices and reagents.  Dormant curses lined the door and shelves waiting for thieves and cheats to set off the cunning wards that bound them.  Uneven aisles of goods ran down the length of the shop.  Bones and books.  Powders, plants, and pieces of animals in brine.  Everything an eastern trained magician might want.  At least for the basics.

To the side was an elderly woman in a silk dress and coat sitting quietly behind the counter.  But she wasn’t just a salesclerk.  Invisible lines of magic tied her to every ward in the store.  Each individual spell was weak, but the woman had crafted it into a tapestry of magic that could match Helena’s power.  Helena’s respect went up considerably.  She should talk to the woman at some point on the finer details of ritual spell crafting.

Just because Helena could tear apart reality didn’t mean she couldn’t use the strengthening power of a well conceived and carefully built formula.  There was always more to learn, and more power to gain.

For now she looked over the wares.  Now that she had a job it would be good to buy some reagents.  Especially if she had to do anything tricky with that jiang-shi.  She also didn’t want Kilduff looking over her shoulder while she chatted with the owner.  The man probably didn’t know Chinese, but she was certain he’d find a way to annoy her.

Kilduff caught her hint.  He walked over to the proprietor and pulled out his notepad.  “Excuse me ma’am.  The police are investigating a murder and I’d like to answer a few questions.”

“A murder?  Well I suppose I can spare a moment for your questions,” the white haired woman replied.

“Thank you.  We’re on the lookout for a jiang-shi-” 

Helena started her browsing, while Kilduff worked.  As she’d said, the place specialized in rare minerals.  There was jade in all its many forms.  Powdered dragon bones sat next to the rarer powdered dinosaur bone.  There was also cinnabar safely held in glass jars, which Helena grabbed.  Mundane animal parts could be found in any medicine shop on the street, but Mei had a selection of bits from magical animals.  Three fourths of the shop was purely dedicated to mystic components that had little use to non magicians.  And Helena grabbed as much of it as she could safely afford.

As she continued down the aisles she noticed there wasn’t anything that could teach someone greater magic.  In addition to the components there were three legged frog statues that brought in money, or talismans to ward off ill spirits and evil ghosts.  Plenty of grave offerings as well.  There were a few tomes and items that could teach a low ranked mage the basics, but the unique items that a master Taoist would use were missing.  Then again, given Helena’s usual budget, catering to master spellcasters might not be a good business decision.

Kilduff had finished his questioning by the time Helena was done with her shopping, so Mei was quietly waiting when Helena finally walked up to the counter.  “Good evening, I have a few questions,” she said to the woman.

“Questions that the officer didn’t already ask, Curse Gunner Helena?” the woman asked with a grin.

It was odd hearing her name from someone she didn’t know.  While it wouldn’t be hard to learn her title, she was a young magician who didn’t have a major practice in the city.  “It seems you have me at a disadvantage.  I didn’t think I was famous enough for anyone outside my apartment to know me.  I apologize for not knowing about you.”

The old woman laughed at that.  “Such humility from one of those who styles themselves as a true mage.  Your kind are one in ten thousand.  Only seventeen of you grand wizards live in this realm.  Your comings and goings are noticed.  As for who I am?  Mei will suffice for a name.  A magician like myself doesn’t have a title. After all you grand wizards would consider me a dabbler.”

“I would not call you a dabbler Mei.  I find the term human magician fits well.” Helena replied.  “Just because I’m immortal doesn’t mean I will gain wisdom, power, or even that I will outlive you.”

Mei laughed again, but her eyes seemed more respectful.  “You are very polite, even though we both know your powers far exceed mine.”

“You seem to have compensated for your lack of raw power.  Something anyone who tried to short change you has found out.”  Helena poked one of the more complicated wards.  It was a petty curse, wrapped in a dangerously cunning trigger.  It reminded her of her own work.  “They’d be lucky to make it up the stairs before falling and breaking something.”

“You have good eyes, Curse Gunner.  We will have to speak about spellcraft some time.”  Mei folded her hands.  “But first I imagine you want to know if someone is buying the items needed to keep a jiang-shi fresh.”

Helena nodded.  “Yes.  Yao Grass Paper, Celestial Dragon Scale, or Porcelain Dust from Penglai.”

“Either way my answer is simple,” Mei replied.  “I haven’t.  I know nothing about the hopping dead.  And I will do my best to continue knowing nothing.  That is bad business.  Especially for those of us who do not get fancy names.”

“I see.”  Helena’s looked at Mei’s eyes, but it seemed the woman was telling the whole truth.  She wasn’t sure if Mei was nervous because the Triads were involved, or if she just had a reasonable fear of necromancers who controlled unstoppable undead minions.  But either way they’d hit a dead end.

Well that was that.  This had been a long shot anyway.  Helena turned to her other business.  “Thank you for your help.  Also, I’d like to purchase these,” she placed the components she’d grabbed on the counter.  “Along with…” Helena paused when she realized she didn’t have a clue how the Chinese name was pronounced.  She settled for sketching the characters on the counter.  “Paper Talismans.  If you have them.”

“I see the rumors that you studied with those island pirates are true,” Mei said as she turned to the cabinets behind her.  “Yes we do have some.  I imagine you’d like ones that would be usable to seal away evil spirits and the undead?”

“Yes, please.”  Helena had obviously stepped into some historical culture clash again, but so long as she got the slips she didn’t care.

Mei pulled out several yellow paper slips, one pack with a red border already drawn, the other just plain.  “Which one would you prefer?”

“The plain one,” Helena replied.  She could draw her own borders.  Her left handed writing would only clash with the right handed style of the border, and she liked customizing her spells.

“Very well.  The total will be six dollars,” Mei said as she began packaging them up.

Helena felt her mouth curling into a frown.  Haggling was a terrible practice, and she desperately yearned for the day it died in the Immigrant Realm.  Still she began the dance in an effort to protect her wallet.  “Six?!  I bought the plain slips, not the patterned ones.  And that cinnabar is low quality!  Furthermore-“

To Helena’s dismay Mei was a practiced merchant, who showed no mercy.  After ten minutes, the final price solidified at five dollars eleven cents and Helena could only hope she’d kept the loss to a minimum.  She needed the items, but every penny counted.  Especially since she hadn’t been paid yet.

Her shopping done she walked over to Kilduff.  “I imagine you learned nothing as well?”

“I imagine I learned more, unless you knew that the Triad’s pet magician never visits here,” the Inspector replied dryly.

Helena frowned at that.  “Who is their pet magician anyway?  You mentioned them before, but didn’t name them”

Inspector Kilduff started out the door.  “He was on your little list, girl.  Ling Wei Hsu.”

“Gold Rat Hsu?  He’s the Triad’s wizard?”  That didn’t seem right.  “You sure he’s not just selling to them?  He’s actually a skilled magician.  Most of us don’t waste our time with petty theft and protection rackets.”

Kilduff looked insulted but he laid out his case.  “He’s in deep.  Meets with the other leaders regularly.  Never does anything openly illegal, but he gets a tidy sum of laundered money every year, which he reports perfectly to the tax man.”

Helena shook her head to clear it.  She’d studied all the other true magicians when she’d moved to the realm, but somehow she’d missed that.  “Well he’s obviously guilty of something.  No one in the Immigrant Realm pays taxes.”  

“Admitting crimes to a policeman isn’t wise, girl,” Kilduff said.  “But it’s true.  Most people don’t pay taxes.  And no one spends that much money on an accountant to make sure it’s all done right, unless he’s breaking some other law.”

She considered what she knew of Ling Wei Hsu.  He was a fortune teller and feng-shui master.  Not a combat mage.  She was certain that info was good.  But she’d have to make some more inquiries.  People who kept track of the magical social scene were notorious for downplaying non magicians, but being a leader in organized crime should have warranted at least an offhand note.

Still that was something she would have to do later.  “That means the Triads have their own line of magical goods.  Since Gold Rat Hsu isn’t shopping here.”

“Assuming this is the only shop for fine magical goods in Chinatown, aye.”  Kilduff shrugged.  “I can’t say I know the difference between pagan idolatry and full blown witchcraft.”

Helena rolled her eyes.  “Maybe you shouldn’t stuff everything you don’t know into a small box.  China has a hundred unique magic schools.  No one knows all of them, even the greatest masters of the Middle Kingdoms.  But if the man practices Taoist rituals he’d need to go here.”

“Thought all those schools went back to some immortal mystery of the ages,” Kilduff said.  “Why would different shops matter?  They’d all be after the same goods.”

Kilduff actually seemed serious this time.  Helena had expected a line about all heresy being the same, but it seemed that the Inspector was willing to think when his job got involved.  Either that or he’d just seen enough supernatural nonsense that he couldn’t ignore the differences.

She took a deep breath.  “Yes the Chinese, and honestly everyone, claims to be bringing magic back to the ‘true ways of the old masters.’  But that’s a bigger farce than the Trojan Horse.  The reality is we magicians are making spells simpler, more powerful, and more versatile all the time.  Most lost ancient magic was lost because it’s garbage.  And while Western magicians spent a lot of time running and hiding from the Christian Church, Eastern mages continued perfecting the arts.  Each school might claim to be the true way, but the reality is they’ve branched out into different specialties, with different needs.”

“So you say it’s silversmithing versus blacksmithing.  Looks the same but different tools.”  Kilduff looked behind.  “Aye.  That makes sense.  And means we’ve got evidence for the captain.”

“Yes.  Western Magicians are unique in how similar our spells are.”  Helena turned back to the streets as they walked back onto the main thoroughfare.  “On average any magician from Persia and beyond is simply stronger than their Western counterparts, especially in their specialties.  Arabic wizards are still feared as assassins, and Far Eastern mystics are given wide berth.  Not all Eastern mages are combat masters, but enough are to scare people.”

“So you’re saying the person we’re chasing is stronger than you?  Not your usual tone lassie,” Kilduff said.

“No.”  Helena smirked at the man.  “I’m saying there’s a reason my grandmother had me study in the Realms of Illusion.”  Her grin faded.  “It does mean I can’t just assume I’m better in a fight.  It’ll depend on how old the mage is, and what they studied.”

“Hey!”

Helena looked over to see a young boy with a queue hairstyle running towards her.  The kid bowed and thrust a folded paper at her.  “A message for you.”

Helena stared at the paper, focusing her mind at it.  Sending a messenger with a bomb was impolite, but not uncommon between mages.  She didn’t sense any magic from the message, but she strengthened her wards anyway.  “Thank you.”  She carefully took the paper and unfolded it, reading the short note within.

Seeing that it wasn’t a deadly trap she fished out a penny.  “For your service.”  The boy smiled, then ran off.  She turned to Inspector Kilduff.  “It seems I’ve got another source of information.  Ling Wei Hsu has invited me to dinner.”

“What?!”  The policeman looked over her shoulder at the letter.  “You can’t be seriously considering that, lass.  It’s a bribe.  Or a trap.  Likely both.”

“It’s certainly a bribe.  But it’s not a trap.  He promised me safe passage,” Helena said, tapping the note.

“The man’s a criminal, working for criminals,” the inspector retorted.  “You can’t be trusting him.”

Helena pocketed the note.  “I can.  Because he’s a magician.  No magician violates that kind of oath.  Not a magician that likes to live.  We have rules as well, because if we didn’t have rules there’d be no way we could live near other magicians without becoming paranoid wrecks.”

“Oh, an oath is it,” Kilduff snorted.  “Will the devil take his soul early if he breaks it?”

“No.  Every other magician in the city would kill him.”  She folded her arms.  “Hospitality rules aren’t optional.”

The Inspector didn’t seem satisfied with her answer but he didn’t press it.  “Fine.  So if the boys don’t find your body floating in the bay, then what?”

“I’ll send you the information I can pry out of the man.  We’ll meet up to continue investigating the day after tomorrow,” Helena said.

“You want Sundays off?” Kilduff asked.

Helena shrugged.  “We both need to speak to our gods.  Also I have some other leads to follow.”  Not to mention a lot of questions about Hsu that he probably wouldn’t answer at dinner.

Kilduff’s frown somehow deepened but as he turned to go he simply said, “Don’t forget he’ll be pumping you for information too lass.  Try not to play our sad hand too openly.  And be at the precinct at eight sharp Monday.  The Captain will be screaming for answers by nine, so we’d best have them or be out by then.”

“Very well,” Helena bowed slightly then turned and hopped into the air before flying along the ground towards her apartment.  It was rude, but it was the only way she was going to get cleaned up and ready for a dinner meeting in time.  And this was going to be a very important meeting.

The walk from the police station to the market district was a blur as Helena tried to make sense of what had happened.  “I can’t believe you agreed.”  She peered at him.  “You don’t look like a shapeshifter either.”

Kilduff closed his eyes and grimaced.  “Strains my mind as well girl.  But since I won’t be able to get the captain to hire a proper priest, I might as well get his money’s worth.  Especially since the man’s likely as not to take the funds from the pension.”

She shook her head and turned her attention to the riot of people around her.  She had a lot to think over, and worrying about the barbs the Inspector would throw at her wouldn’t help.

The market was the most cosmopolitan part of the Immigrant Realm.  There were smaller markets all over the city, but this was the place where people from every realm in existence could meet and buy items from across reality.  The crowded streets were filled with people, humans and other creatures, and the stalls were filled with all sorts of wares.  A woman selling Sumerian beer called out to them before getting distracted by a couple of tourists from the Ganglands.   The smell of cinnamon and saffron drew Helena’s attention towards a centaur’s stand, but she dismissed the stall when she saw the spells keeping the aura of spices circling the air.  If his produce was worth it he wouldn’t need to fake the scent.

Kilduff tapped on her shoulder.  “So what unholy ritual are you going to be using to find the murderer?”

Helena slipped around a hooded kishi who was trying to use his charm to sell some kind of snake oil elixir before replying.  “I’m going to walk around and talk to people.  If I had a name or some object linked to the killer or the mage I might be able to track them, but blind divination is a complete waste of time and money.  We need more information.”

The policeman’s sour expression lightened.  “While I appreciate that we’ll be sticking to normal policing for a bit, ‘asking a few questions’ rarely gives answers.  The type of folk who will admit to seeing an undead abomination against the Lord hopping down the street while covered in blood are the type of folk who call for help.  Everyone else will be explaining how they ‘didn’t see nothing’ even if we had a photograph of them walking next to the damned thing.”

She considered that.  Fear of dark magic and the undead did seem reasonable.  And Helena wasn’t going to convince anyone who was scared of retribution that she could keep them safe.  “I see.  But there’s another trick in my hat.”  Helena looked up at the man.  “As you repeatedly pointed out, I do know how to make a jiang-shi.  And I know the type of materials a Taoist trained magician would need.  Which means I can try to find out where the man is buying his supplies.”

“That’s a dead end,” Kilduff said.  He paused then shrugged.  “A useful dead end though.  If there’s a Chinese monster hopping about, the Triads have to be guilty as the devil.  Which means they’ll have bought their supplies through the black market.  Proving that will force the Captain to get me the search warrants on some shadier businesses.”

“I’m glad I could help.”  She hadn’t been expecting much off today’s investigation, but the Inspector’s off-hand dismissal still annoyed her.  There were probably forty people in the city that had her knowledge.  It had to be worth something more than that.

The smell of roasting meat hit her nose, and reminded Helena she hadn’t eaten yet.  A quick turn brought them to one of the streets that hosted food vendors so the shoppers and merchants could grab a meal in between deals.  It was day, so most of the sellers were aiming for human and human-like customers, though there was a troll grilling rats and raccoons for the more monstrous shoppers.  Sausages in cheap bread were the most common food items, but Helena dismissed those.  She gave the carts roasting meat for tacos or with pots for rice a closer look but nothing really called to her.  Then her eyes fell on a stall just past the intersection, it’s sign bearing Hermes sigil.

Helena pushed past a crowd of men arguing over fish prices and waved off a smiling jaguar man selling chocolate before arriving at a large stall.  She approached the young woman standing there, knowing the man running the stall wouldn’t help her.  As the woman bowed Helena let her voice slip back into the familiar Greek of her home city.  “An order of kykeon, with honey and cheese.”

“Ah-” the woman seemed surprised to be addressed in a civilized tongue, but she recovered fast.  After a look over her shoulder to see if the man running the stall was watching she said, “That will be six cents.”

“Done.”  Helena was overpaying, but not too much.  And she had a sneaking suspicion about the other woman’s position in the household.  As she pulled out the coins she casually asked, “So what is your name?”

The young woman hesitated and glanced over her shoulder again, before saying “Melita.”  She pulled out a jug and filled a hard paper cup with the thick mixture of barley and water that Helena had ordered.

“Thank you,” Helena said to Melita, slipping another penny into the woman’s hand.  The lack of a city told Helena everything she needed to know.  The woman was a house slave, probably one of the few the man owned.  The spark of hatred that ignited burned brighter than Helena remembered, but she had long experience forcing her distaste down.  And right now she wanted to focus on her meal.  She sipped the kykeon, savoring the taste.

“What is that?” Kilduff asked with wide eyes.  “Looks like that sludge the folk over the river drink for that ‘healthy living’ nonsense.”

“It’s kykeon.  It’s fairly good if you season it properly.”  She smirked and held the cup towards Kilduff.  “Interested in some?”

The inspector shook his head.  “I found my own food,” he replied before biting into a tamale.  Helena couldn’t fault the man.  Her beverage was an acquired taste.  And the Puerto Rican vendors were probably a better choice for anyone who hadn’t grown up on the bland foods of the Hellenic realms.

“Um.”  The two turned to find Melita holding out a basket.  “Perhaps you would like some figs as well?”

“Thank you ma’am, but I’m fine,” Inspector Kilduff said.

Helena shook her head.  “I shouldn’t splurge any more.”

“Then you can move along.”  The flicker of rage flared up around Helena’s heart as the stall owner walked over to shoo her off.  “We do not need women who dress like prostitutes here.  Though I suppose a prostitute at least remembers her home.”  Melita flinched away from the brewing storm.

“I would not think it easy to mistake a priestess for a prostitute,” Helena snapped back.  “But I suppose a pig from Eretria might have a hard time telling the difference.  After all they are one and the same there.”

The man turned bright red at the insult.  “Big words from a drunken Theban harlot!  Alexander did us all a great favor grinding your city into the dust, and the gods erred when they rebuilt it!  Obviously Dionysus got them drunk before their decision.  Just as you get drunk before lying down with lions.”

Helena drew herself up to her full height and reached out the dark miasma around her.  Darkness took form at her call and she reveled as the small minded merchant cringed away.  “I serve Hecate, barbarian.  And you should choose your next words carefully, lest you find the wealth you gained from the work of others given to them threefold.”

For a moment she thought the small minded merchant might beg her for mercy.  But then his eyes flicked back toward Melita and his pride reignited.  “My mistake,” he spat.  “You whore with dogs instead of lions.”

The curses around her thrummed and she reached for her wand.  A few days as a sow should remind him not to insult the gods, or their chosen….

A heavy hand slapped down on Helena’s shoulders.  “What’s all this shouting then?” Inspector Kilduff said.  The store owner flinched back again, and even Helena felt some of her fury abating.  She wasn’t going to get away with turning the man into a pig now.

But she let her rage cool.  The inspector’s presence gave her another method of attack.  A much better one.  “We were having a discussion about how he speaks around his slave.”

The harsh glare of the law turned on the now wide eyed stall owner.  “That can’t be right, because slavery is illegal.”

“That’s… that’s right!  The lying witch, insulting my assistant like that,” the man sputtered.  His recovery was fairly good.  It would probably be enough to deflect most police inspections.

But she wasn’t done yet.  She instead gave her most cutting smile.  “Oh?  I misjudged?  Then she has the ability to quit and find better work whenever she wants.”  Helena grabbed three heavy silver dollar coins and walked to where Melita had been quietly cowering.  

With a quick gesture she sketched a rune of guidance on the top coin with her left hand and made a prayer to Hecate to aid the bearer, then slipped the stack into the woman’s hand.  She leaned over and whispered, “This will lead you to a friend.  Tell him Helena Aoede sent you.  And go with Hecate and Hermes’ blessing.”

Melita looked at the coins, trembling.  The hateful glare of her ‘master’ promised dire retribution, while Helena’ offered only uncertainty.  For a moment Helena worried that the woman’s spirit had been cowed by abuse and fear.  But then a smile flitted onto the woman’s face.  “I shall take my leave then, Laios Euboea of Eretria,” she shouted before running off into the crowd.  Helena’s own smile softened as a small dog followed after the fleeing woman.  It seemed Hecate had heard her prayer.  The stray would lead the woman to her friend Petros’ shop.  The old man was certain to at least offer a waitress position.

The shopkeeper Laios looked fit to burst at his slave’s escape.  “A curse upon you Theban!  May Apollo’s arrows of disease and pestilence strike you down along with all you hold dear!”

The weak curse flowed from the man into a sticky cloud that rushed Helena.  With her left hand she caught the cloud and crushed it, banishing the miasma into nothingness.  “I hope not.  That’s a crime in this city.”

“Now now laddie,” Kilduff patted the man on the shoulder, none too gently.  “You shouldn’t waste your time yelling at crazy ladies.  Best put your efforts to finding new help.  If you offer a solid wage people will line up for a job.”  Kilduff turned and shooed her off.  “Git girl!  You’ve stirred up enough trouble.  If I’m to play babysitter to you I want you to be doing the job you’re hired for.”

“Right.”  Helena turned and started down the street.  Kilduff followed, leaving the merchant to bewail his ill fortune.  It was less than the man deserved, but a good down payment.

She would use his name to curse him properly later.  A promise was a promise.

“I can’t say I like being used as your weapon in a fight,” Kilduff remarked as they walked along.  “But I can’t fault anyone who frees a slave.  Most people from your realm aren’t so kindly.”

“Slavery is terrible.  If I could wipe the practice out I would.”  Helena shook her head.  “You’d have thought the people of Thebes would have learned…”  Memories bubbled to the surface.  A broken pot.  A darkened mine.  A shallow grave.  All seen through a crystal across the murky waters of time.

She shook her head to clear it and sighed.  “You can’t save everyone in the end though.  Not even the gods can do that.”  There were only so many friends she knew that could offer freedmen jobs.

Inspector Kilduff looked down at her then turned back to the street.  “Mayhaps you should consider following the God who can do that.”

“If that god saved those people in this life instead of the next I’d consider it.”

Kilduff shook his head sadly, but he didn’t reply.

As they walked out of the market towards Chinatown Helena sipped her kykeon slowly, savoring the thick pottage.  She wasn’t likely to find a place to buy it again anytime soon.

Still she didn’t regret her actions.  Slavery sickened her to the core.  And there was no way she could let an insult to both her city and her goddess go unmentioned.

In the end, it was just another piece of home she’d cut herself off from.

“A ‘ziang-shi?'”  Captain Jacobs paced in front of his desk.  “What the heck even is that?”

“Jiang-shi.”  Helena sat back in the chair she’d requisitioned while waiting for the captain’s return.  “It’s an eastern undead monster, usually created by Taoist ritualists.  You’re lucky you hired me.  Most western magicians don’t know anything about them.  If my grandmother hadn’t sent me to ‘summer camp’ in the Realms of Illusion I’d be clueless myself.”

“So you’re saying you could create one?” Kilduff asked with a dark glare.

Helena rolled her eyes at the inspector’s attempts to get her off the job.  “I could in theory, but not in practice.  First I’m not supposed to dabble in undeath without asking Hades and Persephone nicely, and they’d certainly refuse.  In addition this jiang-shi is enhanced.  The creator didn’t just wave a pregnant cat over a corpse.  They used powerful magical rituals.”  Helena made a coin jingling gesture.  “Rituals that are very expensive.  I couldn’t afford it, even if you added some zeros onto my fee.”

The captain slumped back in his chair and put his face in his hands.  “So you’re telling me that our killer is some sort of supercharged Chinese monster?”

“A supercharged Chinese monster who is being controlled by a very rich and powerful magician,” Helena added helpfully.

Kilduff’s grimace turned to a more focused frown.  “So.  The Triads then.”

“We don’t know the Chinese Mafia’s involved,” Jacobs countered.  “It’s possible a newcomer from an outrealm came in and is causing trouble.  Or maybe it’s a unique creature.  We can hope anyway.”

Helena shrugged. “A newcomer is possible.  But there has to be a magician controlling it.  If it were uncontrolled there’d be people turning up dead all over the city.  Given the skill required, the creator’s a top tier magician as well.  Not some back alley potion brewer.”

“What do you mean by top tier?” Jacobs asked.

“I mean there are about 50 people living in the Immigrant Realms who can even try to make one.  The seventeen true magicians, and a little over thirty skilled magicians from various other realms.”  Helena folded her arms.  “The true magicians being myself, Madam Robicroux, Gold Rat Hsu, Granite Monkey Sen, the Adena, and the twelve tower wizards.  Of course someone could have just walked through a portal and set up shop quietly.  But anyone who can do this should be considered close to my equal.”

Kilduff nodded.  “An outsider seems the most likely.  Their current magician’s a cautious type so the Triads would need to round up some new blood.”  He pulled out a notepad and turned to Helena.  “Best tell us all about this creature’s strengths and weaknesses.”

Helena blinked in surprise.  “No sniping about me being a witch?”

“I’ve listened to bastards who murdered children while they ratted out their accomplices,” Kilduff said.  “I can listen to a foolish witch girl rat out a devil.”

That was probably as much of a compliment she’d get from the inspector.  “Well then.  It’s super strong, nearly invulnerable, and capable of draining the chi of normal humans.  Normally jiang-shi are desiccated from their lack of chi, and are unable to eat food.  But given the missing brain and the fact no one noticed an under monster wandering around the hotel, I imagine the magician who created it spent the ludicrous amount of money needed to get rid of those weaknesses.”

“How much money are we talking,” Captain Jacobs asked.

Helena considered what she knew about the process and grimaced.  “Your weight in gold and in jade.”  What she’d give to throw that much money at a simple experiment. 

“So it looks just like you and me?” Kilduff asked.  “Bit unfair for us poor humans looking for the monster.”

“At first glance yes, but it won’t be able to hide for long.” Helena said.  “No matter how advanced their joints have trouble bending, especially the elbows and knees.  Have your people look for that.  They’ll also have a tag on their body- usually the forehead but the only rule is it has to be visible.”  She locked eyes with the man.  “Do not take it off.  That’s the only thing keeping the creature from going berserk.”  She did not want to have to deal with a berserk undead monster slaughtering its way through the city.

“So what can we do to stop it?” Jacobs muttered.

Kilduff looked up.  “The power of the Lord-“

“We aren’t hiring a priest,” the captain replied with a long suffering sigh.

Getting a priest or twelve was the smart move, but Helena kept her mouth shut.  She didn’t need competition for the job.  Besides she was technically a priestess herself.  And while she wasn’t good at clearing away curses, she was very good at killing monsters.  Or just killing things in general.

“Well then,” Kilduff looked at her.  “What weapons do my lads have to use against them.”

“They can be hurt by any weapon made from peach tree wood.  In addition bells or holy rituals can stun them.”  She looked over to the inspector.  “And of course blessed weapons like that club or the holy water in your belt.  It is undead.”

“Should have guessed you’d recognize the instruments of faith,” Kilduff said, putting the notepad away.

“I’d be a poor priestess of Hecate if I couldn’t recognize a simple blessing,” Helena replied.  She turned towards Captain Jacobs  “Fortunately for your other officers any item they consider ‘holy’ will work.  The power of their gods is what matters the most.”

Kilduff sniffed.  “I’ve yet to see pagan rituals equal the power of the Lord.”

“Will fire work?” Jacobs interrupted.

“Technically yes, but any spell that could burn a jiang-shi would destroy the surrounding sixteen city blocks,” Helena shrugged.  “Maybe you have some technological tricks that could work.  Nuclear power perhaps?”

Jacobs turned very pale.  “Using nukes in the city?!  No, I think we’ll just stick to holy water.”

“I don’t know how it works,” Helena pointed out.  Apparently the outside world’s trump card wasn’t that precise.  Something to tell her friend Lyudmila later.

Jacobs took a few moments to compose himself as he leaned back in his chair. “While all very interesting, that doesn’t solve my biggest problem.  How can we track down this jiang-shi and its controller?”

“I’ll hunt them down the old fashioned way,” Helena replied.  “With a bit of help from one of your officers I can figure out where the magician lives, if not exactly who they are.”

“What?” Jacobs yelled.  “I can’t have a consultant running around performing police work!  Especially not one who counts as a weapon of mass destruction in most jurisdictions.  Out of the question!”

“We don’t need a witch running amok terrifying the locals while under police protection either,” Kilduff added.

Helena smirked.  “Then you’ll pay me for services rendered?  Five hundred dollars.  Not too bad for half a day’s work.”

“Wait just a minute!” Jacobs sputtered.  “We have no idea if your information was correct!  And what you have told us is almost useless for an investigation.  Sure it will help when our men find the culprit but…”

“You just said you didn’t need my services.”  She locked gazes with Jacobs.  “If that’s true, then you owe me the money.  If not then I need to hunt the magician down, and that means searching myself, since any magician capable of creating a jiang-shi is capable of blocking any weak scrying attempts I can muster.  I’m not going to sit and wait at home for you to pay me whenever you catch the criminal, because I’m not sure you can.”

Kilduff heaved a great sigh.  “Aye, we’re well and good trapped in the devil’s bargain.  I warned you captain.  Devils come when you ask, but rarely leave when you will.”

Captain Jacobs sat in his chair rubbing his temples.  Honestly, Helena didn’t care what the man decided.  She was going to get her rent money, and she was going to get it as soon as possible.

Finally Jacobs shook his head and glared at her before turning to Kilduff.  “Fine.  You were right.  I’ll pay her off, unless you want to help her run around and play wizard detective.”

That was very strange.  She hadn’t expected the man to surrender his authority so fast.  She’d been preparing for another hour of complaints.  Still, this decided the matter.  There was no way the inspector would lead around a witch of his own free will.

Silence fell, then spread.  Kilduff rubbed his eyes, then pulled out a crucifix and looked at it, muttering something under his breath.  Then he heaved another great sigh, before fixing Helena with a steely gaze.  “Right girl.  We’ve already paid the piper, so we might as well call the tune.  Let’s see if your actions can match your boasting.”

For the first time in a long while she was completely and utterly speechless.

By the time Inspector Kilduff got his car down the streets to the river drive, Helena figured she’d mastered the whole automobile passenger shtick.  It fit nicely in her repertoire of abilities she never wanted to use, alongside milking goats and spinning spider thread.  The journey took less time than their trip to the hotel, but walking would have been faster.

The police headquarters was one of the more interesting setups in the Immigrant Realm.  It was in the “Town Center,” which was nowhere near the center of the island.  Instead it was right at the end of the bridge that formed the magical connection between the two realms.  Helena figured it was so the people from across the river could run home quickly.  Whatever the reasoning, most of the citizens of the Immigrant Realm did their best to ignore the place.

Of course it was sometimes hard to ignore the police.  The building itself was half antique half modern, a dull brick building awkwardly fused to a sleek glass and steel edifice.  The last time she’d been here, the officers had taken her to the brick building to answer some rather ignorant questions about the assassin she’d transformed.  This time Kilduff led her through the tinted glass doors of the modern office.

The front was filled with people trying to get assistance with problems, and the policemen who seemed trained to ignore them.  Except the line for fines.  Helena noticed that moved quickly.

Kilduff muttered something under his breath as he walked through the chaos, but she couldn’t catch it over the hubbub.  So Helena just followed along.  The doors opened for him, and then they were through back into a mass of offices.  It was sparsely populated, filled with what had to be expensive equipment, and no one seemed to be working.  Lovely.

“We’ve warded the morgue against necromancy,” Kilduff stated as they walked down the halls.  “Had it blessed too, so no getting any funny ideas.”

“Smart,” Helena said.  Any blessing on a place as cursed as a police morgue was sure to be worn so thin it wouldn’t affect her spells, but it would be a solid defense against lesser magicians.  “You should bless the whole building though.  There are so many petty curses here that the whole place is unlucky.  I’d also suggest being better people so you don’t get cursed to start, but any place of power will gather some miasma.”

Kilduff gave her a suspicious look.  “And you can get rid of those curses for a small fee and a bit of taint on our souls?”

“I don’t buy souls.  They’re worthless and Hades gets angry if you keep them too long,” Helena replied.  “And I could get rid of the curses, but it’d cost you a lot.  Definitely more than what you’re paying me now.  The place is just crawling with miasma.  The right kind of priest can do it for less.  Assuming you could find one that will agree to work with you.”

The inspector shot her a dirty look, but continued walking.  Helena smiled and added another mark to her petty revenge tally.  Today was going wonderfully.

That pleasure was quickly replaced with a mild discomfort as they headed down the stairs.  Not from any fear, but from the dark energies oozing around her.  She was perfectly safe.  Curses were her element after all.  But the number of death grudges rivaled some battlefields.  The artificial lighting and sterile hallway did not improve the atmosphere.

The morgue was worse.  The chill air combined with the aura of ill-fortune to make the place particularly unpleasant.  The local miasma felt like cave water dripping on her neck.  The corpses hidden under white sheets were almost an afterthought in the grim spectacle.  She waved her hand to clean the air around her and stared down the more vicious curses before continuing in.

“Not the nicest smell, I know,” a man in a white apron and what Helena recognized as modern medical gear said.  He looked over at Kilduff.  “I take it you’re here to see the Regal Hotel victim, Ryan?”

“Aye.  The witch here wanted to see the victim.  Captain thinks she can help determine the cause of death.”

The man rolled his eyes at the inspector’s dark tone before nodding to Helena.  “Brandon Smith.  You’re lucky you came here early.  I haven’t gotten into any invasive testing.”

“Helena Aoede, and that is good. I’ll do my best to return the favor and get out of your hair quickly.”  Helena looked over the room.  “Where is Mr. Liang’s body?”

“Here.”  Brandon led them to the room’s central feature, a long table covered by a white sheet.  “It’s messy, just so you know.”

Helena grimaced.  “I’ve seen worse, but thanks for the warning.”  

Brandon pulled off the sheet, revealing the body.  Helena’s eyes flickered to the face, and she instantly regretted it.  The man’s eyes stared vacantly forward while his mouth was frozen in a silent scream of terror.  She quickly turned her gaze towards the wound.  One of her earliest memories was the death of a slave who’d offended their master.  But for some reason the bodies of people she hadn’t killed personally still revolted her a little.

She grimaced and banished the errant thoughts before focusing on the task at hand.  It wasn’t hard to see the details. The entire back of the man’s skull was gone, and most of the brain from inside it.  The wounds around the edge were from humanoid teeth, though no normal human could bite through a skull.  “Someone really put a lot of effort into this farce,” Helena muttered.  She reached out to touch the corpse to see if she could get more information from it.

“Whoa!”  Brandon put a hand in front of her.  “No touching without gloves please.  We need all the evidence we can get to put the culprit away.”  The man pointed towards a box.

“Very well.”  She walked over and pulled out two of the flimsy gloves.  They’d interfere with her senses, but only a little.  And most of her magic would still work fine.

Inspector Kilduff folded his arms.  “No complaints?  That’s a rare thing.”

“Despite our religious disagreements, I approve of your laws,” Helena said.  “The idea that everyone, god or devil, magician or human, gets a fair trial is very important.  It means angry gods actually might face some consequences for killing me.”  She gave the man a hard look.  “My problem is with people who consider my magic a crime.”

“It is a crime against God,” Kilduff snapped.  “But since the fools in government don’t consider it a crime against the people, I’ve no choice but to let you perform your witchery.”

Helena stretched her hands.  “Thank you for your permission.”

Having scored the final word, she turned her attention fully to the corpse.  The missing brain would have killed any human, but she had no way of telling if that was the fatal blow or if something else had killed the man first.  Instead she placed her hand over the man’s center and reached out with her mind.

There was nothing.  No magic.  No sense of life.

Helena stepped back and peered at the corpse.  “Curious.”  She looked over at the two policemen.  “You don’t embalm the corpses or banish any magic on them before you bring them down, do you?”

“No,” Brandon replied.  “Some of the corpses get last rites of course, but I’m pretty sure the victim wasn’t Catholic.”

“I would have noticed that,” Helena said before turning back to the body and looking over it again.  What little remained of the man’s hair was white, and his skin was leathery.  “Geras granted his painful blessing in full,” she muttered before looking up at the policemen.  “How old was Mr. Liang?”

“Fifty two,” Kilduff said.  “His driver’s license picture was taken at twenty years old, so no way to tell if the white hair is natural or not.”

“Well the skin isn’t natural.  Fifty is too young to end up with skin like this.  It could be a disease, but given everything else…”  She needed to get more information.  Trace the pattern of life and death in the corpse.  Depending on what had killed him there should still be bits of life energy lingering in various organs.  The proper spells could search that out, but she’d need some duckweed.

Easy enough.  She pulled off her hat and reached into it.  One of the simplest magic tricks was finding an owner using their possession.  Helena just reversed the process.  A thousand ‘threads of ownership’ branched out and connected her to her possessions.  Years of practice allowed her to quickly sort out the lines to the plants she used for magic.  After that it was just thumbing through the various lines until she found what she wanted and pulled the small broad-leaved plants out.

“Do you actually keep water plants in your hat?” Brandon asked eyes wide.

“No.  But it’s easier to cast the spell if you can’t prove that,” Helena replied as she placed her hat back on her head.  “I’ll need to sprinkle these on the body.  Will that be a problem?”

The two policemen looked at each other.  It obviously was outside the norm for them, but they seemed to actually consider it.  “I can’t think of anything,” Brandon said.

“It won’t ruin the investigation,” Kilduff said.

“Good.”  She pulled out a wand from her pouch, then drew a shimmering circle in the air.  Runes in both her native Greek and Chinese filled out the border of the circle, drawing the forces of yin to the area.  The curses around the room started moving towards the circle as well, flitting and darting to lap at the energy Helena was summoning.  She glared at the miasma and shooed it off.  They hissed and spat at her, but without strong wills to guide their hate they acknowledged her as their mistress and dispersed.

With that handled she tossed the duckweed onto the circle.  The rootless plants hit her circle and absorbed the yin energy before sinking down onto the body.  They would drift to the few remaining areas of yang.

She froze as the green leaves fell straight down before wilting and rotting away.  Within seconds none of the plants that had fallen on the body were still alive.  “Hecate preserve us,” she whispered.

“I won’t be liking your answer, will I?” Kilduff said.

Helena took a deep breath.  “No.  You won’t.  I was looking for life energy, but the spell actually was designed to sense chi.”

“So what does that mean?” Brandon said, pulling out a notepad.

“It means whatever killed him did it by completely draining his chi.  And I mean completely.  The duckweed withered because his body is so imbalanced the corpse wants more chi.”  Helena tapped her chin as she considered the possibilities.  “There’s no way this was done by accident or part of another spell.  To drain the body this completely would require a powerful magic attack or some sort of east Asian monster.”

Kilduff raised an eyebrow.  “So you’re saying you could have done it?  Or a Chinese magician?”

“Maybe,” she admitted.  “But as I keep saying, there’s no magic.  And biting through someone’s skull to eat the brain would be impossible.  Also disgusting.”  A summoned creature could do it, but she didn’t bring that up.  No reason to muddy the waters.  

She looked at the body again.  Now that she knew what to look for it was easy to see the bruises on the shoulders.  “I’m guessing this is from before the victim died?” she said pointing at the marks.

“Yes, or very shortly after,” the coroner replied.  “We assumed it was from when the killer ate the victim’s brain.  Most people try to resist that.”

“Reasonable, but I believe the killer was actually holding the victim still while it sucked out the man’s chi.”  Helena stepped away from the body.  “Have you finished reconstructing the door?”

Brandon frowned.  “Mostly.  The lab techs say there’s some weird things they’re trying to figure out about it.”

And the riddle was solved.  “Let me guess.  Someone punched their fingers through the door then ripped it out towards them.”

“Why would anyone do that instead of just kicking the door down?” Kilduff asked.

“Simple.  Because the killer wasn’t trying to be effective.”  Helena placed her wand back in her pouch.  “It was using Xiao Liang’s fear against him.  Reenacting a horror story to help paralyze its target with fear.  Just like how it used your captain’s knowledge of zombies to try to put you off the scent.”

Helena folded her arms and looked at Inspector Kilduff.  “Your victim was killed by a jiang-shi.  Which means you’ve got a problem.”

Helena’s proclamation revived the inspector’s frown but Kilduff nodded.  “You’ll have to discuss that with Captain Jacobs.  It’s his idea, and he’s the one who has to explain the expenses to the suits across the river, just like he’ll have to explain it to Saint Peter later.”  Kilduff shook his head and stepped out of the entryway into the street.

“Whoa!”  Shannon poked her head out from behind her father.  “So you’re gonna be solving a crime, Helena?”

Mr. Samuels patted his daughter on the head.  “She’ll be helping solve a crime.”  He looked up at Helena.  “A lucky break for you though, isn’t it, Miss Helena?”

“Assuming there’s actually something supernatural there and not just people jumping at shadows.  It could be a normal murder.”  Helena clamped down on her emotions.  She needed to seem professional and in control after all.  But it was hard.  This was the break she’d been hoping for!

James lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled.  “Well, you’ll just have to charge them a consultation fee.”

Helena grinned.  “Plus expenses.”

James and Shannon gave her a thumbs up.  Helena returned the American gesture then waved and headed out onto the street where the Inspector waited.

The first thing that caught her eyes was the patrol car.  It was strange, even for a mishmash of eras like the Immigrant Realm.  The machine was all sleek lines and fine detail work that would take a master craftsman years to produce, but the city across the river stamped them out like they were nails.  The power needed to perform such feats was in some ways greater than most spells.  It was strange they’d use it for such a worthless luxury.

She grabbed the handle next to the lock to open the carriage door then slipped into the passenger seat.  “Seatbelt,” Kilduff said pulling a strip of cloth around his chest and belly.

Helena repeated the gesture, then fumbled with the locking mechanism before securing it.  “What’s the point?  With all the people on the roads there’s no way you’ll can drive fast enough to need it.”

“It’s the law,” Kilduff responded.  “Also keeps your teeth from rattling out on the stones.”  He looked over at her as he started the vehicle.  “First time in a car?”

“Yes,” Helena admitted.  “Not much use if you can fly.”

“Not much use if you can walk, either,” muttered Kilduff without his usual venom.  “We keep telling the captain they should be giving these toys to the hospital.  A real policeman should have his feet on the city streets, not be sitting about in a box.  But the Chief across the river insists they’re required or some nonsense.”

Helena shook her head.  “Have they at least given up on radio towers?  Or is some new company trying to bankrupt themselves?”

“Gave up last I heard.  Some nonsense about ‘localized cosmic radiation.'”  Kilduff snorted.  The two didn’t agree on much, but at least they could bond over how foolish the nominal rulers of their realm were.  “Now the fools are wasting our money trying to string wires across the bridge.  Keep getting surprised when the damn things break.”

“I’d write a letter to a senator, but I’m not a citizen.”  Helena idly wondered what disasters the Immigrant Realm was unleashing on the poor workers trying to feed electricity and other technology into the realm.  Magicians, even true magicians like herself, were still bound by cause and effect.  The magic of a realm decided on the effect it wanted, then put together a cause for it as an afterthought.  And some realms seemed to have a nasty sense of humor when it came to causes.  Especially when it came to people trying to change the realm’s nature.

Helena’s thoughts were interrupted as a group of enthusiastic kids chased a soccer ball right in front of the car.  The straps bit into her as they stopped.  Kilduff grimaced and tapped the horn until the laughing mob cleared out, before driving right in front of a courier.  They continued past the man as he made a rude gesture then made a turn into an alley that was currently blocked off by a water buffalo drawn cart laden with milk.  Kilduff sighed and backed out before picking a new route.

The comedy of errors only continued as they drove on.  With the constant redirections Helena took a while to realize they weren’t heading towards the massive bridge that connected the Immigrant Realm to the mainland.  “Isn’t the station that way?”

“The Captain wanted to meet you at the scene of the crime.  He’s looking into it personally,” Kilduff said.

“Hm?  Looking into it personally?”  She looked over at Kilduff.  “The person who died must have some powerful friends.  And a lot of money.”  That was the only reason in her mind for a police captain to be running around annoying his deputies and pretending to help.  It also explained why they were hiring a true magician like her instead of a hedge mage.

“Xiao Liang was a rich man from across the bridge.  The Chief is demanding answers.”  He spared her a dismissive glance.  “At least I hope that’s why Captain Jacobs is being such a fool.  Would be a real pain if he insisted a Bride of Satan be involved every time there’s a hint of magic.”

Helena returned the glare.  “I told you before I’m not married.  And I serve Hecate, not your god’s fallen angel.  Maybe your job would be easier if you remembered that instead of picking fights with innocent magicians.”

Kilduff turned to her.  “My job is keeping people away from danger, girl.  And you are dangerous.  Less than five days after you came into the city you turned a man into a crab and left him to die in the sun.”

“He tried to stab me,” Helena pointed out.  “And if anyone cared they could have taken him to the sea.  I might have done it myself if you hadn’t arrested me.”

“Hmph.  Aye the victim was one of those pagan religious fanatics I suppose.  But the Lord will surely forgive me for figuring a witch who offends Zeus is up to little good.”

“It was Apollo, not Zeus, and if the bastard didn’t want me killing his favorite hero, he should have warned the fool to back off.  Instead of egging the narcissistic pig on with promises that I was certain to fall in love.”  Kilduff snorted, but didn’t continue the argument.

Helena felt anger bubbling up and forced it down.  The sheer gall of that arrogant plague god, trying to control her emotions.  And then getting angry when she’d dared to resist.  It wasn’t fair, but fair didn’t matter when the gods were involved.  At least she had her freedom, even if she was in exile.

She turned her attention outside of the car to take her mind off the past.  This section of town was where the outrealmers lived, people from actual storybook lands, created by powerful magicians or monsters.  Much like the city across the bridge, the realms these people came from had never existed in the real world that had left magic behind.

Still it was a city, and people did the same things, if in different ways.  As Helena watched, a kid with butterfly wings hopped between third story apartments to set up a laundry line.  On the ground floor a storefront advertised complex clockwork appliances, all mimicking equivalents from across the river.  And outside the barber shop a number of women with black eyes and tentacles instead of arms were gossiping.  It all felt familiar to Helena.  Sure she couldn’t place most of the items or even the people, but the way magic was performed here called to her.

A pale woman with runes on her neck noticed Helena’s witch hat and rushed into a storefront.  She sighed and turned her attention back to the road.  She was drawn to the neighborhood, but the neighborhood wanted nothing to do with her.  The people here came from magical realms, but they weren’t magicians.  They were the demons, servants and sentient creations that had fled cruelty and mistreatment, and a practitioner like Helena brought up too many bad memories.

The roads switched from cobblestone to smooth asphalt as they entered the hotel district.  The thin slices of land where the people from across the river tried to fake the brightly lit world of their home realm.  And failed because weird people like Helena walked out in the open instead of hiding in the shadows like they were supposed to.  In fact magical creatures might be even more open than they were at home.  Helena was pretty sure the dark-skinned mermaids talking to a group at the shoreline were miengu, and normally the water spirits were more secretive.

Finally they stopped behind a large five story brick building.  “We have to go in the servant’s entrance to ‘avoid scaring the customers,'” Kilduff said with bitterness.

Well that was insulting.  Helena fumbled with her seatbelt for a bit before managing to get herself out of the car.  “I’m starting to understand why you’re always so grumpy.  Surprised you don’t threaten them with inspections for that.”

“Enough of that talk, lass.” He smoothly exited the car and walked towards the back entrance.  “Let’s go meet the captain so you can show him what a bad idea this was.”

The servant’s hallway moved past the laundry rooms to a set of service elevators.  Kilduff called one and hit the button for the fifth floor.  There was no magic along the way, but there wasn’t any security either.

The fifth floor was a different scene entirely.  Yellow tape sealed off the far entrance to this wing of the hotel, and a few uniformed police stood guard to wave off the curious.  It was strange how controlled the scene was.  She’d been expecting some real chaos.  Murder scenes back home were messier.  Kilduff led her past them into the open room.

The foul stench of coffee rolled over her, stopping her in her tracks.  It seemed everyone had a cup of the poisonous brew.  She waved a hand to clear the smell and looked over the people in the room.  A man and a woman measuring bloodstains.  A man in a uniform writing it down.  And a man standing away from everyone, doing absolutely nothing. 

He wore fine manufactured clothes, meaning he was from the modern side of the bridge.  A native of the Immigrant Realm would either have cheap machined clothing or a tailored outfit.  Fine manufacturing was a foreign luxury.  His eyes were harried, and he didn’t have a notepad, instead fiddling with a worthless mobile phone.  His presence was a weight in the room, dragging everyone down with his discomfort.

Kilduff walked straight to him.  Of course that man would be the captain.  The universe was a perverse entity.

“I brought the witch, sir,” Officer Kilduff said.

“Oh?”  The man looked at her, confused.  “I’m sorry, our records said you were forty-seven.  I wasn’t expecting someone so young.”  He held out his hand.  “Captain Jacobs, Immigrant Island branch.”

Helena nodded and ignored the man’s hand.  “Helena Aoede, the Curse Gunner.  I stopped my aging early because I was going to get wrinkles instead of height.”

“Stopped your aging?”  The man blinked at her while Kilduff closed his eyes in resignation.  Apparently the captain didn’t know anything about magic either.  It didn’t speak well of him, given he was supposed to be the head policeman for a highly magical realm.  Now was that good or bad for her job prospects?

She decided to simply explain and hope for the best.  “The best magicians can stop their aging, becoming immortal.  I assume those stories still make it across the bridge?  Well I’m one of the best.”  She glanced around the room trying to make sense of it.  “So what’s the job you’re offering?”

The question seemed to reorient the man.  “We need the assistance of a magician to find out what committed the murder here, and in tracking the culprit and the culprit’s master down.”

“Culprit’s master?”  That was an odd assumption.  “So you already know what happened?”

Jacobs nodded, his confidence returning.  “It’s pretty obvious.  The corpse was found with its cranium and cortex– well let’s cut to the chase.  Something ate the man’s brain.”  He shook his head.  “No one saw a damn thing.  Security came up because the neighbors complained about hearing a fight, and found the body.  Which means whatever did it could hide as a human.”

“Or turn invisible, or any number of other things,” Helena said.  She tapped her chin.  “That does explain why you need me.  If you think it’s a zombie, then Madam Robicroux is your primary suspect, since she’s the master of Vodoun in the city.  You can’t afford Gold Rat Hsu or Granite Monkey Sen, the Adena and the tower wizards won’t help you, and no mere hedge mage would be able to track her.”  Helena smiled.  “Let’s discuss payment.”

“Normally we pay people after they finish the job,” Jacobs said, frowning.  “We are good for the money, you know.”

Like she was going to fall for that.  “I know you’re good for almost any amount.  I also know how easy it is for people to forget they owe money.  Especially since it would take me money I don’t have to file a complaint.  Besides, I want to know if this is worth my time.”

“Very well.”  Jacobs sighed.  “What’s your price?”

It was an elegant trap.  Jacobs had to know that she didn’t have a clue what her services were worth here.  Bargaining without that was like trying to run the Marathon with one leg.

Her gaze drifted to the wall mirror.  Reading people’s minds was a difficult spell.  Her friend Lyudmila could do it, but Helena had never really grasped the way other humans thought to pull it off.  Reading surface thoughts was much easier.  She focused her power on the mirror, and studied the reflection of the police captain as she asked, “What’s the average pay for a specialist?”

“One hundred silver dollars.”  The mirror shifted and showed three hundred and fifty.

Helena glared at the Captain.  “Five hundred silver dollars, plus expenses.  An extra one hundred because my services are unique, plus an extra fifty for trying to cheat me.  What were you thinking?”

Jacobs reeled back.  “What?  That’s–“

“You won’t win trying to out lie the devil,” Kilduff said.  “You should have asked for a priest from the start.”

Helena adjusted her hat.  “If you want me to go…”  She clamped down on her fear.  She couldn’t lose this job.  The captain was desperate, and she was the only person he could turn to.

Jacobs shook his head, and slumped.  “Fine.  Five hundred silver dollars it is.  Paid when you complete your report and we confirm its accuracy.”

“Accepted.  May Hermes hold us to it.”  Helena fought to keep her grin from swallowing her face.  She could pay rent again!  She took a moment to bask in the victory before turning her attention back to the crime scene.

“So the murder happened here.”  She looked over to where the people were making notes on bloodstains.  “From the chalk outlines it seems like you’ve moved things around.  What did the place originally look like?”

“Inspector Kilduff can you explain the crime scene to her?” Captain Jacobs said.

Kilduff rolled his eyes.  Helena added that to her list of evidence that Jacobs was more ‘manager’ than worker.  “Well, you can see the blood spatters,” Kilduff said.  “We haven’t moved them.  Body was found in the bathroom, there.”  He pointed to the black tape outline of a man on the white tiled floor.  A large bloodstain covered the head area.  “The mixed chalk and tape are where we found pieces of the bathroom door.”

“Wait.”  Helena pointed at the chalk outlines.  “Those are all in the bedroom.  Are you claiming something inside the bathroom burst out?”

“The lads at the lab are still working on it,” Kilduff said.

“There’s no windows in there,” Jacobs said, “unless you’re claiming the zombie came out of the toilet.”

She was starting to have sympathy for Kilduff here.  “That’s not impossible.  Still I want to look over the pieces of the door later.”  She looked over at the people measuring the splatters and wood shards.  “I’m going to need to inspect the place of death more closely.”

“Just don’t step on anything,” the woman said as she scribbled down more notes.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Helena floated off the ground and flew over to the other side of the room.  Being only five feet tall had some advantages.

She ignored the muttering from the others in the room and landed inside the small bathroom.  As the police captain said, there were no windows, and no other signs of entry.  She leaned down and smelled the blood pool.  The coppery smell wasn’t as strong as fresh blood would be, but still present.  She sketched a quick spell to check for mystical blood and found nothing.  The attacker hadn’t bled anywhere, assuming their attacker wasn’t human.

Still, something seemed wrong.  Helena closed her eyes and focused her breathing, trying to strengthen her mental senses.

As soon as her eyes relaxed it hit her.  There was no sense of magic here.  No sense of death, either.  Someone having their brain eaten should have left a lot of lingering energy, along with pain and terror.  “Strange,” she muttered.  She looked up at the Captain and Kilduff.  “I’ll need a sample of the blood.”

“For your necromancy?” Kilduff snarled.

She sighed.  “I need some way to make sure the blood here is the same as the blood of the victim,” Helena said.  “I’ll also need to see the body.”

The woman who was writing down notes looked up.  “Lab will be done confirming that the blood matches the victim in a couple of hours.”

Helena nodded.  Her way was faster, but she did understand why people were leery about willingly handing a witch someone’s blood.  Even if the person was dead.  “I’ll still need to see the body.”

“Are you going to investigate the bite marks to find out what type of zombie did it?” Captain Jacobs asked.

“No, because your victim wasn’t killed by a zombie.”  Helena floated back over to the other side of the room.  “When something dies their life energy doesn’t go away instantly.  It lingers.  Hades doesn’t need the power of life in his domain.  Violent deaths leave even more energy, since the victim is often healthy and has a good deal of life left.

“The zombie guess was obviously wrong… at least to a trained practitioner.  ‘Voodoo’ zombies can’t eat at all.  Regular zombies don’t actually eat brains, at least not more than anything else they can sink their teeth into, and they aren’t subtle enough to sneak into a hotel.  A zombie would just kill until someone destroyed it.”  Helena shrugged.  “If there was a zombie involved, someone’s taking Herculean efforts to shuttle it about.”

Helena turned her gaze on Jacobs.  “Whatever killed the victim used up all the lifeforce spilled into the area by his death.  Lots of things can do that.  Any magician, or even low ranked priests.  But one thing that can’t do that is a zombie.”

“So you’re saying it was more likely a witch that did the killing,” Kilduff said.

“I wish.  Another magician would be easy to track.  And much more interesting to fight.  But there was no magic either.  I’ve left more of a magical trace in this room than the murderer.”  Her mind raced, running over all the things it could be, but there were too many options, and too many creatures that she knew nothing about.

“The killer is something strange.  A creature that eats lifeforce.”  Helena went back to forcing her will on Jacobs.  “Which is why I need to go to the morgue.”

Captain Jacobs chewed on his lip before pulling out a cigarette.  “Fine.  Inspector, take her to the morgue and show her the rest of the evidence.  Whatever it takes to close this case.”

Kilduff heaved a great sigh.  “Right then.  Let’s go, girl.”

It wasn’t enough.

Helena looked at the stacks of coins on the small table in her apartment.  Thick silver Vereinsthaler from the Black Forest sat on a scale with quarters and other smaller coins of the Immigrant Realm stacked to the side.  She’d earned every penny herself.

It didn’t matter.  Rent was eighty silver dollars; four pounds trade weight.  And the coins in front of her totaled exactly sixty silver dollars and forty eight cents.  No matter how many times she double checked the weights, what angle she looked at the scale from, no matter how she turned the table, the total remained the same.  Even if she rationed enough to make the bag of lentils and box of cheap wine in her cupboard last for two weeks, she’d be short.

She flopped onto the table, scattering the coins.  It wasn’t fair.  She nearly got herself killed for the money, and all she had to show for it was a new pen pal and the dwindling stacks before her.  She’d beaten the Alchemist of Babylon in his own domain, but apparently killing magicians five times her age wasn’t good advertising.  She hadn’t had a single job since.

She turned away from the envelopes and walked to the window.  “I just need to get work,” she muttered to herself.  She had a week.  Maybe a little more.  And it was only a few dollars.  That shouldn’t be a problem for a witch of Helena’s talents.  She was an immortal witch, one of the strongest magicians in the realm.

Too bad being one of the strongest magicians in the realm didn’t mean anything here, she thought as she stared over the grey brick buildings that made up the city.  Back home priests and magicians were sought out by everyone, from heroes to slaves.  She’d helped her family slay rampaging monsters and heal chronic back pains.  But those were the Hellenic Realms, where the Olympians had retreated when their magic had faded in reality.

The Immigrant Realm was something different.  Appearing as a simple island city, anyone from the depths of fairy to the realms pretending to be futuristic metropolises could teleport, sail, and in a few cases, walk here.  A world that was both more and less magical than her home.  Towering brick and soot, forming a city where everyone could live, but no one really fit in.  A realm that didn’t need magicians like Helena to solve their little problems.

Not that there weren’t occasionally big magical problems about.  But supernatural creatures that caused trouble were quickly disciplined by Voodoo Queen Madam Robicroux.  A service she provided for free.  Great for peace, but bad for Helena’s business.

“Maybe I could get some fame if I dueled her.”  A smile flitted across her face, but she knew it was an empty hope.  The Voodoo Queen wouldn’t bother with a combat duel, even a nonlethal one.  She’d insist on a duel of shapes or of curses.  Magicians here were so boring.

She took a deep breath.  “There’s something out there,” she said to herself.  “I just need to find it.”  She’d had people offer her small jobs.  Fixing walls and scaring off mice.  That meant there had to be better jobs out there, right?  Something worthy of her time.

Her ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door.  Who could that be?  She carefully stood and traced a warding rune in the air letting the defensive magic settle before heading to the door.

She was surprised to see Shannon, her landlord’s daughter.  The dark skinned ten year old was rocking back in forth in excitement.  “Helena!  There’s a policeman looking for you!”

“The police?”  Helena’s pulse quickened.  She lived in the Immigrant Realm because of their stringent laws, but she’d quickly learned there were downsides.  The police were very persistent, and they considered witches a ‘reasonable suspect’ every time some idiot died under mysterious circumstances.  As if she had nothing better to do then cause drunks to fall off bridges.  The worst she’d ever done was curse them with extra long hangovers.

“It’s the guy that does the patrol around here.  Uh, Kilduff,” Shannon said.  “He seemed really annoyed.  Was muttering all sorts of words mama says we shouldn’t know.”

“Annoyed?  Not angry?”  That was interesting.  The man had accused her of everything short of turning him into a frog in their past encounters.  “If he’s annoyed this might actually be good for me.”  She smoothed out the pleats in her brown peplos and grabbed her witches’ hat.  “Let’s go see.”

“Right!”  Shannon turned and hurried down the short steep stairs with the enthusiasm of youth.  Helena followed at a slower pace.  Why would Kilduff call on her?

When she reached the bottom she saw Shannon’s description had been spot on.  Inspector Kilduff stood outside the door next to her landlord James Samuels, his face twisted like he’d been forced to chew a salted lemon.  It was impressive given Mr Samuels unconsciously moderated the emotions of those around him.  Kilduff was very unhappy.

Now to find out why.  “Inspector.  What brings you here?”

The policeman drew himself up to his full height to lean over her, then seemed to shrink.  He glared at her for a moment then sighed.  “I personally want no part in this nonsense and devilry, but it seems our new captain wants an ‘outside expert’ in witchcraft.  Seeing that I have the misfortune of knowing you best, the captain sent me to ask you for help.”  His face practically screamed ‘please say no’ but Helena’s curiosity was piqued. 

“It must be an interesting case if you need a true magician.  There’s dozens of hedge mages who can tell you if there’s a curse around.”

“The captain says we need a magician capable of looking at the crime scene and determining what manner of creature caused the ruckus.”  Kilduff shook his head.  “I said we could leave it to the coroner or get a priest, but he was insistent on getting a magician.  A powerful magician he said.”

“The crime scene?  What type of crime?”

The inspector’s face grew grim and his mask of disapproval faded.  “Murder.”  The word hung in the air like a curse.  Or perhaps an invitation.

Helena didn’t hesitate.  “I’m interested.  Let’s discuss payment.”

Three days later the ballroom had been completely repaired.  More impressively, it had been done without much magic. Helena and her friends had helped with the wall shattered by the dragon, but the rest had been cleaned up by mundane hands.

There were a few other exceptions.  The heavy metals that had been carelessly thrown about had been cleaned by the few kobolds that had lingered.  Helena was watching as the leader consumed the last traces of her arsenic arrow. “Good work,” she said as the poison vanished.

“Next battle, take more care,” the flame replied.

“I’m hoping there won’t be a next battle,” Helena replied.  “By the way, did your comrades get freed?”

The flame bobbed up and down.  “All are free. Much thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Helena replied.

“I owe you a debt as well.”  Helena turned to find Grete standing behind her.  The woman looked subdued, which was perhaps to be expected after the the last week.  “A debt and an apology. My misplaced rage caused you much grief, and I am ashamed.”

Helena folded her arms.  “You should apologize to the Cochrans.  They’re the ones whose children you nearly murdered.”  Miasma gathered, but Helena kept it under control

The woman bowed deeply.  “I am even more ashamed of that.”  She held out two pouches that rang of silver.  “I despise the fact that I must try to settle my debts with money, but there is another person I have wronged who demands my service here.”

“So they’re taking you on as a knight?” Helena asked.

“As you told them repeatedly, they’ll need someone with skill fighting magical opponents.  Especially now that our hidden mine is public knowledge.” Grete smoothed out her silver lined cape.  “And since you and your friends aren’t going to stay, that leaves me to battle everything that can’t just be shot by the guards.  Those emboldened by the fact that the von Strausfen family doesn’t have a court wizard might be deterred by the knowledge they have a mystic assassin.”

The kobold moved up.  “We will help. Defend our silver.”

Helena nodded.  “I suppose that’s the best I can hope for then.  May you guard this land well.”

“We will.  After all, it is our home.”  The swordswoman gestured towards the window.  “In any case it is getting towards noon. Lady Alexis is waiting outside with your friends.”

“I guess I should go then.  Goodbye.” Helena began walking towards the door, then paused.  “Oh, and Grete. If you ever decide you need to curse someone again, please, find a competent witch.”

The woman snorted.  “Should that transpire, I will send a note to you.”

Helena blinked then shook her head.  “Fine. I suppose I could use the money anyway.”

She worked her way to the front gates and out into the courtyard.  Alexis, Lyudmila and Kseniya were all standing there, surrounded by bags with the magical reagents and books that they’d looted from Nedvarious’ labs.  Shizuka was almost certainly there as well, though the spirit’s presence was too small to notice.

Lyudmila waved.  “Ready, Helena?”

Helena checked to make sure she’d completely given up her domain.  Her mind poked at the corners of her ‘self’ but the links that she’d created were gone.  “Yeah.”

Alexis wrung her hands.  “Must you really leave, Helena?  With Margarete gone the land does have room for a witch.  It would be good to have one we could trust. For that matter the position of court wizard is open as well.”  She looked over at Lyudmila and Kseniya. “That goes for all of you. You’ve done so much for us.”

“Sorry, but I’ve still got a god after me,” Helena said.  “I can do trips, but long term I need to stay somewhere with stringent laws towards deities.”

“And we have our own domain,” Kseniya said.

Lyudmila shook her head.  “Besides, the church gets really, really touchy when a woman takes the position of court wizard.  You’ve got enough problems with the clergy, I bet.”

Alexis sighed.  “I suppose so.”

Kseniya hugged the noblewoman.  “But if you need help, don’t hesitate to use the charms we gave you to call.”

“Yeah.  And don’t worry about wasting it.  They’re cheap for us,” Helena said.

“We’ll tell some of the better wandering witches about the opening too,” Lyudmila said.  “There are always a few people who need a new place when the locals decide they don’t want a witch around.”

Alexis hugged Kseniya, then bowed to them all.  “I owe you all so much. Please, should you ever come by, consider Strausfen as a second home.”

Helena smiled.  “I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer sometime, Alexis.”

Alexis smiled sadly, then stepped back.  “Well… goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Helena said.  “May we meet again soon.”

“Goodbye and good fortune,” Kseniya said with a wave.

Lyudmila nodded.  “Farewell.”

Helena moved to stand next to both sisters and they linked hands.  She looked at both of them and saw they were ready. “Alright. Shall we go?”

“No, I need a moment to be disgusted at how teleporting between dimensions is easier then teleporting within my own home realm,” Lyudmila said with a mock frown.  She paused a moment. “Okay, done.”

“Shizuka and I are ready,” Kseniya said.

Helena led the spell, bringing the simple magic circle leading ‘home’ to mind and calling it to life.  The field of falling stars surrounded them for a moment.

And then, with little fuss, they were all standing in Helena’s apartment.  The spare bed was still sitting at the side, but otherwise it looked the same as always.

Lyudmila folded her arms and looked around the apartment.  “This is a good place to live?”

“It is a city, sister,” Kseniya said.

“The rent’s low and the landlord’s nice,” Helena replied.

“Well I suppose that’s the best you can get sometimes.”  Lyudmila looked at her. “So what’s the plan?”

Helena pulled out the pouches of silver Grete had handed her.  “I go settle a small debt, then we fight over who gets the best books until dinner time.”

Kseniya smiled.  “A good plan.”

Lyudmila stretched. “Can’t argue with that. We’ve got a lot of stuff to go over before we have our victory party, along with the celebration of Helena paying her own rent for the first time.”

“No fair starting the fighting early,” Helena replied as she started for the door.  But she was smiling.

It was good to be home and with friends.

Kseniya ran straight towards the dragon.  They’d known from the beginning that Nedvarious would summon it, and she’d volunteered to try to stop the beast.

As she got closer she leaped, flying in between the dragon’s coils.  It twisted up in confusion and she blasted its wings with ice. The missiles boiled off into steam, but the beast cried in rage and turned to pursue her.

Kseniya flew as fast as she could, up and away from the town.  These dragons were beautiful creatures, but ruinous. An errant breath could level entire blocks.  Not to mention the damage her own magic might cause. She didn’t stop fleeing until the clouds were almost level with her.

The dragon was twisting and thrashing through the sky after her, wings beating furiously against the air.  Unlike Kseniya it was bound by gravity, and her sharp ascent strained its might. It belched and spewed flame as it pursued, but she was out of range.

Kseniya nodded then spread her arms wide.  She splayed her fingers, each one reaching out, finding the magic that was part of her soul.  The connections came to her swiftly, years of practice making the move as simple as picking up a book.  As the dragon advanced, she closed her hands, summoning her little birds to her side.

The dragon ignored the arrival of the tiny metal birds.  The small creatures were beneath its notice, and they flew as if they were real.  Kseniya took the time to arrange the ten groups as she desired, her fingers twitching.

The dragon bellowed a challenge again, and this time Kseniya could feel the heat from its flame.  It was time to act. She rose further, then with a flick of her fingers sent magic flowing into her constructs.

The birds turned towards the dragon, each spitting a bolt of energy.  Missiles of fire, ice, and lightning seared through the air. The dragon screamed as dozens of the bolts hit home.  But none of them had broken through the beast’s hide. This fight would take a while.

She leaped forward as the dragon breathed fire again.  The beast must have realize she was the source of the attacks, and it was determined to destroy her.

A blur of crimson flashed in her vision and Kseniya flipped to dodge the tail slap.  Apparently this dragon was very aggressive. But its attack left it off balance. Kseniya sent her bird constructs to orbiting it, and unleashed another storm of bullets.

The dragon shrieked and began to push itself further into the sky.  Kseniya allowed her constructs to orbit below while she attempted to keep the height advantage.

A massive gout of flame cut her off and forced her to drop down.  The dragon roared in approval at its successful ploy, then reared back to begin a dive.  Kseniya triggered another bullet storm but the beast pressed on.

Kseniya juked right then dashed left as the beast charged.  She heard a massive crunch as the beast’s teeth missed her by inches.  Then pain tore through her back.

She was falling.

She shook her head and recovered her balance.  She must have been hit by one of the beast’s wings.  Her back would be bruised for sure.

The dragon circled for a dive, but this time her constructs were properly placed.  She moved the cluster together and fired another barrage, then another. The storm of magical energy washed over the beast’s face, and it howled.  It tried to force through, but a third barrage forced it to turn aside.

As the dragon broke off and began to circle, Kseniya took time to prepare.  She summoned a magical platform in the air beneath her so she could plant herself properly, then began to focus on her protection from fire.  She’d put up advanced wards this morning, but she’d need to use more power to survive the fires of a dragon.

The dragon finished its turn, and began another dive.  Kseniya scattered her birds and waited. Flames seethed out of the dragon’s mouth, and slammed into her defenses.  The heat was like standing in a smithy, and she could feel her wards slowly fading.

Kseniya crouched down on her platform, focusing.  The flames kept coming, melting her shields one by one.  She felt her skin starting to burn, but she forced herself to keep gathering strength.  She’d have one shot at this.

Her second to last shield broke.  She had to act. With all the strength she could muster she leaped into the sky.  Magic flowed through her body, amplifying its power far beyond its limits. To the poor dragon it must have seemed like she’d just appeared next to him.

With a sharp exhalation she channeled her power from her legs into her right glove and swung her fist right above the beast’s eye.

The dragon’s head was flung backwards.  It tumbled down through the air as Kseniya flexed her aching hand.  Finally the beast recovered, hovered for a second as it regained its balance.

That was what she’d been waiting for.  She pulled up one leg, then concentrated the strength into her foot and shoe as she dove down.

Kseniya’s kick slammed into the dragon’s wound.  There was a crunch, and she felt the beast’s skull fracture.  The mighty dragon’s eyes rolled back, then shut. Its body dulled as it tumbled from the sky.

She took a slow deep breath as she watched the beast fall.  That had been harder than she’d anticipated. She’d expected it to have some sort of elemental weakness, but apparently it had been strengthened against magic at the cost of its physical defenses.  It was a good plan against other magicians, but Kseniya’s talent allowed her to strengthen her body to almost Herculean levels. Literally, if Helena was to be believed.

Speaking of which, Kseniya needed to return to the mansion.  Most likely Helena and Lyudmila would be done by the time she returned.  But if not, they’d need her help.

————

Nedvarious pulled out his own angel stone.  “Then we shall duel, child of Hecate. I am Nedvarious, Alchemist of Babylon.  Rejoice for you shall see the mysteries of the ancients as you die.”

Helena nodded grimly.  Mages had long ago learned that using their full power tended to damage reality.  Violent battles like this were still lawless affairs, but by accepting her challenge Nedvarious had agreed to avoid things like opening rifts to hell.  This would be civilized murder.

Unfortunately a formal duel meant she had to let him alter the battlefield before the duel began.  Helena felt space-time warp around around her as her foe used his power to expand the battlefield. An interesting choice, since it would keep Helena’s friends from helping her, but also allow her to unleash her spells without destroying the whole building.

She relaxed a bit, then let her mind fall into the spell that was forming around her.  She was forbidden from trying to fight her foes spell, but with the magical focus in her hand she could empower it.

As the room expanded outward, Helena released the limitations to allow it to expand upward as well.  Soon the ballroom was a massive arena. Her stone shattered as space stopped expanding, and Helena hopped into the sky.

Nedvarious tossed his own spent focus away.  “You really are a battle mage. But that won’t save you or your friends.”  He pulled a handful of clay figurines from his pouch and threw them down. Where each landed a monster sprung up; winged lions with the heads of men, and warriors made of polished bronze.

Helena pulled out a card inlaid with silver and gold runes.  “Scylla and Charybdis,” she intoned.

She felt power rush out of her into the preconstructed spell, and pulled back.  As the summoned creatures rushed forward, a whirlpool suddenly formed between them and Helena.  The unnatural waters flowed out of thin air, and spun into a darkness beyond the floor. Nedvarious’ creatures moved to avoid the obstacle, but tendrils of lightning lashed out suddenly at those who tried to pass, knocking them to the ground.

Helena pulled out a wand and let her magic recharge as her spell stymied the summoned army.  Using that card was a great expense, but she’d seized the initiative.

She raised her hand and summoned an orb of fire.  Now it was time to press her advantage.

————–

Lyudmila cursed as Nedvarious started expanding the audience hall.  It looked like Helena was going to get the private duel she wanted. Which meant Lyudmila would have to babysit everyone else instead of keeping an eye on her friend.

She forced that from her mind.  The first person you had to look after in a fight was yourself.  Dead people can’t save lives.

With a series of alchemical equations and a Nordic rune, she summoned a wall of clay to seal the door they’d entered.  No reason to start a fight on two fronts.

Alexis’ brother, Philipp if she recalled right, stepped forwards towards the soldiers who were walking in.  “Guards, please stay your hands. My father has been…” His face fell with grief.

As he faltered Alexis stepped forward.  Her own eyes had tears, but she kept her voice steady.  “Our father has been betrayed. Please let us stop the villain responsible.”

The guards hesitated a moment, but a man wearing a rank insignia stepped forward.  “I’m sorry my lady, but you are banished, and you broke in here with dangerous witches and what looks to be an assassin.  We’ll do our best to determine the truth, but right now we must ask you to surrender to us.”

Lyudmila stepped between the guards and the rest of her group.  “You idiots,” she snarled, letting her voice carry. “Use your brains!”

She pointed her finger at Philipp.  “What is more likely? We busted in here, somehow stole your lord’s son away and then charmed him while your court wizard was present?  Or that said mage is actually a huge asshole who stabbed you all in the back and Lord Philipp here isn’t falling for the man’s lies?”

Several men shook their heads.  “That makes sense.” “If they were that powerful Nedvarious would be retreating with our lord.”  “I never did trust the wizard…”

Unfortunately the leader didn’t seem impressed.  “We’ll investigate after you put down your weapons.”

“You mean after your wizard kills us all and wipes your memories?” Lyudmila asked sweetly.  “Good job captain. Really thinking ahead there. Why not let the big girls handle this?”

“That’s enough,” the leader said.  “Men! Get rid of that witch!”

Lyudmila smiled in satisfaction as the man next to him punched him in the face.  “You idiot! We can’t trust the truth to come out if the court wizard is against us!  I won’t let you condemn our lord with your stubbornness!”

The leader jumped up and backhanded the man with his shield.  “You insubordinate fool! I’ll-”

“For the Pfalzgraf!” another man cried as he tackled the boss from behind.

Lyudmila sighed and shook her head.  “Remember not to use lethal force! The wizard might be enchanting them.  Bruises and egos can heal!” As a melee broke out, she turned back to where the rest of her party was standing open mouthed.  “Well, we don’t need to worry about them.”

“I’m not sure to be amazed or worried that you could convince so many of our soldiers with simple logic,” Philipp said.

“What?”  Lyudmila blinked.  “Simple logic? I used the rusalka’s voice I own to charm them.  You always use enchantment spells.” Everyone stared at her, even the kobolds so she shrugged and explained further.  “No one listens to logic. Especially not in a fight.”

Lyudmila turned back towards Helena’s fight.  It seemed she was doing well, but there were constructs running at their group.  Men made of bronze and clay. Lyudmila frowned. “Looks like-”

A black streak moved through the air, slicing down the first bronze man.  Grete hopped back from her kill, then raised a silver whistle to her lips and blew.  Lyudmila didn’t hear a sound, but a horse-sized dog and a wagon-sized dog appeared next to the woman.

The two canines bowled over the front ranks of the constructs.  Meanwhile Grete dashed around the flanks, her silver blade slicing down any foes that dared move forward.  Lyudmila was impressed.

However the next wave had archers among the ranks.  Lyudmila raised her wand to strike one down. But before she could cast her spell a stream of rocks and small picks slammed into the creature.  She looked over to see the kobolds had assumed their humanoid forms and were providing fire support.

“It looks like this situation is handled,” Lyudmila said.  She was impressed. No wonder the woman had given Helena fits.

“Can we go help Helena?” Alexis asked as the woman moved beside her.

Lyudmila grimaced.  “Not without breaking the spell I have on your guards.  Besides, if that bastard decides to send something other than fodder at us, Grete will be in a world of hurt.  Her silver cloak doesn’t offer much protection from shrapnel.”

She turned to the two siblings and put her hand on Alexis’ shoulder.  Summoning a rune of protection to her mind was easy, and while the siblings’ odd link made the surrounding calculations difficult, it was still easy to expand it.  Soon a glowing shield appeared next to Philipp, floating between him and the melee.

“No offense Alexis, but your brother’s better with the sword I would guess,” Lyudmila said.  “Philipp was it? You should join the fight against the constructs. With this shield you should be safe, and Nedvarious won’t be able to use area-affecting spells there.”

The young man nodded.  “My thanks. My sword skills might not be up to your other companion’s, but I will defend our family’s honor.”  He drew his blade and carefully moved to enter the fight.

“What should I do?” Alexis asked.

“Stay near me and shoot anything that looks at us,” Lyudmila replied.  “That defensive spell is only strong because I have ‘direct contact’ with him.”

“An ill wind that blows no one good, eh?”  Alexis said as she drew a pistol. “Very well.  Let us do our best.”

Lyudmila nodded and glanced to where Helena was battling.  “It’s up to you now. Please don’t do anything stupid, Helena.”

————

Helena strafed around her foe, firing bullets from her wand and curses from her left hand.  Nedvarious countered by deflecting the bolts while dispelling her curses. Occasionally he’d send one of his summons at her, but he had a hard time targeting.

They’d both drawn heavily on their reserves throwing out powerful spells at the start.  This back and forth was the usual opening salvo between true mages. The ritual of attack and maneuver that weeded out the weak.  And Helena held the advantage.

She didn’t want the advantage though, she wanted to win.  She stopped her curses and instead concentrated on a more standard attack spell.  “Flames of the eternal forge, come to my call and seek out my foes.” She traced Hephestus’ rune.

The air exploded in fire as the rune exploded into sparks.  The flames grew as they arced towards Nedvarious, like shooting stars caught by the pull of the earth.  There was no way his wards could block that.

The wizard raised his staff to the air.  “Frozen void beyond creation, come forth!”  Cuneiform letters appeared around him, and the flames dimmed then vanished in the cold nothingness.

As the spells faded out Helena caught a glimpse of a complex Hebrew rune glowing on the ground.  Nedvarious must have been tracing it with his foot during the fight. She needed to stop that.

She flung out a hand and unleashed raw magical power.  Unfocused, but the strongest attack she could get out fast.

The hall resounded with cracks as the floorboards surged upwards in a wave.  They formed into massive hand, catching the blast. Helena swore as she saw there was only a faint mark on the palm.

“Well.  Things were just too easy, weren’t they,” Helena muttered to herself as the rest of the golem ripped free of the floor.

The golem advanced and Helena retreated away from the creature’s reach.  “Miserable piece of wood,” she cursed and threw a dark bolt of slime at it.  The creature raised its hand again, but this time her bullet-wrapped curse warped and rotted the wood beneath.

In a surprisingly human gesture the golem wrung its injured hand out.  Splinters and slimy rot splattered on the floor, and Helena could see the creature was regenerating.  Wonderful.

A flash of metal to her side drew her attention back to Nedvarious.  Two quicksilver orbs were hovering next to him, and Helena immediately juked to her left.  Streams of quintessence started spewing from the orbs like machine gun bullets.

Helena continued a steady side strafing action as she pondered her next move.  Unlike machine guns these magical sentries were perfectly accurate, which meant so long as she kept moving at a steady pace they’d be no threat.  Still she’d lost the advantage. How to regain it?

As Nedvarious started an alchemical mixture it came to her.  She sped up to get a clear shot past the golem. “Let’s see how you handle rotting away,” she snarled at her foe before throwing another bolt of slime.

“I appreciate you telling me what your curse was going to do,” he replied as he waved his staff to counter it.  Helena smirked at his expression when absolutely nothing happened.

The curse hit the floor beneath the man, disintegrating the wood.  Nedvarious cursed and dropped his potion as he stumbled away. Helena helped him along by catching the wind in her cupped hand and flinging it.  The gust shattered his orbs and sent him flying.

Helena raised her wand to the sky to summon lightning.  A flicker of the golem’s giant fist caused her to duck, ending the spell early.  Still motes of electricity surged forth at her whims.

Nedvarious moaned as the surge hit him, the crackling white energy chewing through the green of his wards.  Helena doubted it did much damage, but she’d broken his defenses. She sneered at the treacherous alchemist and unleashed a curse bullet filled with her rage.  The black orb seemed to glide through the air like a balloon, relentless and deadly.

Nedvarious didn’t even try to get up.  He fished out two clay figures and threw them down.  Another set of lion-bodied lamassu popped into reality.  One appeared right in front of Helena’s curse, screaming in shock as the black orb sank into its body and ended its life.

That left one more lamassu.  Helena switched to a less esoteric attack, pulling out a bottle of arsenic and shaping the poison into a dart.  The human face contorted in pain as its leonine body collapsed.

Heavy steps told her the damned golem was approaching again.  Instead of trying to get off another attack she simply zipped around it, letting herself run an extra dozen yards before looking for her real target.

Her foe had gained his feet.  While his robes had a few singe marks he stood tall, staff raised to the sky.  Letters in cuneiform surrounded him and he proclaimed, “Denizens of Irkallu, I command you by ancient contract!  Rise up and drag down the one who opposes me!”

Helena’s eyes narrowed.  It seemed he was summoning the dead to take her.  Foolish.

She set fire to a few grains of wheat in supplication.  “Persephone, Queen of the Underworld and Hades, King of the Dead.  I Helena, kin of Hecate, ask that you defend me from those my foe stole from you.”  A chill went through her body as the vengeful goddess answered her request.

Screams filled the air as pale white hands burst from the ground.  Some looked untouched by death, while others were rotten, and several were simply skeletons of ethereal goo.  The dead pulled themselves up, wailing in torment from being forced from their realm. They thrashed around the air, ripping at their incorporeal forms in despair and longing.

But none dared attack Helena.  Those that looked in her direction cried out and turned away.  She stood as an eye of calm in a storm of the damned, untouched.

Then a giant fist swept through the ghosts.  She yelped and threw herself to the ground, than half crawled half flew away as the monster slammed its foot down.

“I’m getting real tired of you,” she snarled at the golem.  This was the third time the creature had turned the tide. She needed to eliminate it.

As the ghosts faded away Helena began forming a more complex spell.  She pulled a locust, a mushroom and some dust from her pouch and began concentrating.  This was something new. Fragments of knowledge and half formed ritual bound by will. As close to True Magic as she dared.

“As rock turns to sand and man turns to dust, you shall turn to soil,” she intoned.  She concentrated on what she wanted, banishing all doubt. This had to work, so she would MAKE it work.  “A thousand lives shall consume you. The ravages of the ages take you. Nightmare Plague!”

Magic burnt through her body, leaving her sweating and sore.  The pain sent her to her knees, but she forced herself to watch.  Had it had worked?

The buzzing started.  Low at first, then quickly rising to a deafening crescendo.

It was everything she envisioned.  A massive white swarm of termites flew in, appearing from just out of sight, churning and roiling.  The ball moved to engulf the wood golem, covering the creature from head to toe. And then they began to nest.

The golem kept ponderously moving forward, perhaps trusting in its regeneration, but these were no ordinary termites.  These termites were larger, stronger, and most importantly, they bred millions of times faster. Tens of thousands becoming hundreds of thousands.

The first two steps were normal.  The third let loose a creak loud enough to cut through the noise of the swarm.  Then with the fourth step its leg splintered and collapsed. It reached out a hand, just in time for a finger to fall off.  And then the swarm finished eating through the rune on its forehead and it fell still.

Helena gasped for air as the creature sank down dormant.  She felt relief as her termite swarm vanished as well. The spell she’d created was dangerous, but a matter of necessity.  Now to recover and-

Chains burst forth from the ground and latched on to Helena’s arms and legs.  “Wha-!” She tried to jump into the air, but more chains followed the first, wrapping around her and pulling her to the ground.  She felt her connection to the magic outside her body grow distant, as the chains captured her spirit as well as her body.

“Damn it!”  Helena tugged at the chains with all her might, but they wouldn’t give.  She tried a dispel charm but she didn’t have enough magic left after her last spell.

“And so it ends.”  Nedvarious slowly approached her, his staff glowing blue as he maintained the bindings.  “You did well for your age, but battle magic alone won’t carry the day against a true master.”

Helena glared at the man as she waited for her strength to return.  She wasn’t going to give up yet. “You only won because this was your domain.”

“Perhaps.  I personally feel that merely removed the attacker’s advantage,” he replied.  He frowned as he looked around. “You’ve still done far too well. I doubt I can defeat both your accomplices.  I’ll have to retreat and retake this place later.” He looked over at her. “But first I’ll kill you for ruining this land.  Why didn’t you leave well enough alone?!”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t let you rule as puppet king,” Helena sneered.  “Tell me, how long were you going to let the Pfalzgraf linger? Twenty years?  Fifty? One hundred? Were you going to start offing people when they questioned the miracle?”  She gathered her power to her left hand. She didn’t know what she was going to do yet, but she knew she would only get one shot.

The mage’s face twisted in rage.  “Puppet king! You still spout that lie?  I did all this for him! So that he could rule!  Not for myself. For him and his people!”

“Which is why you destroyed one of his villages,” Helena said.  “And of course why you’re going to wipe his memories of this little event.  Tell me, why didn’t you tell him about your little undead lord plan? Did you ask him when you set up that link between his kids too?  Or was that just a choice you made for his own good?”

Helena’s rage boiled over as she glared at the mage.  “You can dress it up in altruism and friendship all you want!  But the truth is you haven’t taken over because he’s already doing what you want!  You cry about how he’s the best lord around and how he makes great decisions, but you seem to be perfectly happy to rule in secret when you disagree!”

Nedvarious flinched back as she screamed, “You’re a pathetic wretch of a wizard, and I swear you’ll watch all your painfully crafted lies and plots vanish today!”  As her anger rushed forth she concentrated it all into her left hand. Reality wept miasma as she summoned her curse to life.

The oozing hatred dripped to the floor and gathered as a black snake, slithering its way towards her foe.  Nedvarious glanced at it, then shook his head. “Impressive that you could cast, but with that binding your curse will never gather the ill fortune it needs to succeed.  A fitting end I suppose.” He raised his foot and crushed the snake underfoot, the mystical bullet evaporating into smoke. “And now for you ‘Curse Gunner’-”

The smoke swirled up his leg and he gasped.  The air twisted as the snake reformed, now twice the length of a man.  It stared into the magician’s eyes, hissing in victory as it tightened around him.  Then with a pop the spell vanished.

There was a ripple through reality.  And then everything returned to normal.  The chains, her wards, and the twisted space they’d been fighting in had vanished as if they were never there.  The only remnants of the battle were some pools of liquid and a head sized hole where the golem had burst free.

Then a pistol cracked.  And another. Nedvarious stumbled forward, slowly sinking to his knees as blood flowed out the bullet holes.  “Im… possible.” Helena looked up to see Alexis and Grete both lowering their guns. It seemed everyone had gained their vengeance.

Helena looked at where the fallen wizard was still staring at his wounds in shock.  “I told you to curse your bad fortune.” She closed her eyes for one final spell.

“Wait.”

Everyone turned to the desk.  Pfalzgraf Holdst Von Strausfen, the lord who had been secretly kept animated all these years, slowly stood.  The man’s frame seemed to be shrinking, and his hair was turning from silver grey to stringy white. It was apparent that he didn’t have long on this earth.

“My old friend,” Holdst said weakly.  “I understand you must have been mad with grief.  And after you’ve committed yourself to a path it is hard to break from it.  But you know this was wrong. My son is still young, yes. But every ruler is a young ruler once.”

Nedvarious’ face fell, then his eyes seemed to clear.  “You… are right. I’m sorry. Forgive me… Lord.”

The court mage of Strausfen slowly sank to the ground and breathed his last.

Pfalzgraf Holdst fell back into his chair, becoming ever paler.  His cheeks sank as the grip of death grew tighter. “My children…”

“Father!”  The two cried out as one, then rushed to the desk.  Philipp reached for his father’s hand, while Alexis seemed to check for his pulse.  The noblewoman looked over to Helena. “Can you-?”

“Keep him alive as undead?” Helena asked sharply.  “Yes, but I won’t. Do anything else? No, that’s beyond even my power.”  She shook her head and looked away. “You’ve got a chance to say your goodbyes.  Take it.”

Hardening her heart, Helena focused on rebuilding the wards her own curse had dispelled.  She hated intruding on others’ sorrow. Especially when she could do little to help. This gave her something to do.

Two sets of footsteps announced the arrival of her friends.  “That was damn close Helena,” Lyudmila muttered. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That golem was tougher than I expected,” Helena admitted.  “I should have thought of a better way to handle it.”

“It ended well at least,” Kseniya said.  “As well as could be expected that is.”

Lyudmila looked over to where Alexis and her brother were saying their goodbyes.  “I’m not pleased with that either. You just cast two ridiculously chancy spells. Taking over that wizard’s undeath charm right after your fight was dangerous.”

Helena sighed and sat down.  “I’m good with necromancy. Besides, this was enough of a tragedy.”  She stared at the ceiling. “All that work and I didn’t even stop the damn curse.”

The slow drain of magic from her undeath spell became stronger and stronger as the call of Hades echoed louder.  She begged the death gods a few seconds more for Alexis’ sake. An apology for her failure.

She felt her friends’ hands fall on her shoulders, and she grudgingly nodded.  “Yeah.” She closed her eyes, then released the spell that held Pfalzgraf Holdst Von Strausfen to this world.

As Alexis began to wail Helena stood.  “Well I’ll clean up here. You go loot the lab or something.”

“Nonsense.  I’m not going to leave you to care for the bereaved.  It would be a nightmare for everyone,” Lyudmila muttered.

“She means to say we’re with you until the end,” Kseniya said with a smile.

Helena managed a weak grin.  “Thanks.”