Page 22

CHAPTER 22

S ima, butting me with her head, woke me. From the light coming through the window, I knew it was morning. That meant I had slept around the clock.

I got up, let Sima out—even though she really didn’t need my help—and used the bathroom. Waking up did nothing to quiet the nightmare images that had haunted my dreams. As I dressed, the images of horror continued flashing through my mind.

The restaurant downstairs opened for lunch at eleven, and I reviewed the menu in my mind as I descended the stairs. Having free meals at one of the city’s finest and most exclusive restaurants was a great deal. However, the menu almost never changed, and I had it memorized.

Suddenly, I had a need for sunshine and open air. I bypassed the dining room and went out the door. Turning toward the river, I walked through streets that were almost deserted. No wonder, I thought, considering the chaos that had enveloped the city.

The little bistro where I had waited to go sailing with Hans was open and had a table free outside in the sun. I ordered and sat gazing out at the lake and the wooded hills beyond. It was so peaceful, I could almost imagine the horror show at Sechsel?utenplatz had never happened.

Then someone sat in the chair across from me—Nikolas Müller. Probably the last person in the world I wanted to see. I wondered if he needed to lick his wounds or wanted to gloat. It became immediately clear that gloating was on the morning’s agenda.

“I told you,” he started, “the supernaturals are savage beasts. We can’t afford to allow them to stay in Switzerland.”

“Are you stalking me, or do you have an ability to stretch coincidence past believability?” I asked.

He laughed. “Presentiment is a part of my magic. I had a feeling you’d be here.”

“So, you knew that insanity was going to happen?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not something I control. It’s not like precognition, where I see events in the future. I just get a feeling that something—I don’t know what—is going to happen. As to the unfortunate events the other day, I was keyed up, excited, but because of the rally. I had no warning the lycans were going to attack us.”

“And if I drive two hundred kilometers an hour, drunk, on a mountain road, I have no idea I’m going to drive off in the creek. But I can reasonably guess the outcome is going to be unpleasant.”

“ That is unfair. Humans did not start that brawl.”

“I guess that depends on your definition of ‘start.’”

He leaned forward. “Kaitlyn, they are not like us. They aren’t human; they’re monsters. I know the United States is a far more violent and unruly country, but Switzerland is a calm, civilized place. The lycans and strigoi don’t belong here. I don’t know what they have to do before you open your eyes. It’s obvious they don’t abide by the Compact and have no intention of doing so. We’ve been far too lenient with them.”

My stomach was churning.

“Well, thank you for ruining my breakfast. Good day to you, Herr Müller.”

I stood and walked away, not even glancing back.

That afternoon, I knocked on Master Adolphus’s door. When he answered, I said, “I need to talk with you. Do you have some time?”

He pulled the door wider and backed away so I could enter. He led me into his office, and I saw a thread of fire magic wrap around the teapot on his desk—just for an instant. He poured me a cup of tea, then warmed up his own. I sat down across from him.

“I imagine that scene the other night was disturbing,” he said.

For me, it was last night. I took a sip of my tea. “Yes. As bad as the demon attacks in Queen City, without the buildings being demolished. But that’s not exactly what I need to talk about. It’s Nikolas Müller.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked me over. “Müller?”

“Yes. He seems to be stalking me. He’s asked me out a couple of times and seems bent on convincing me that he’s right about the supernaturals. I’ve told him I don’t agree with him, but he’s very persistent.”

I took a deep breath, and then it all came out. “I can’t figure out why he’s pursuing me. I’ve researched him, and he’s exactly what he seems to be—handsome, rich, and very popular with the ladies. He dates models and actresses. Why in the world is he wasting his time on me? I've told him repeatedly that I’m not interested.”

I took another breath, then a sip of tea. “It has to be something other than my looks and charming personality, but what? I’ve been about as rude to him as I know how. He can’t possibly think I have any influence with you. And he doesn’t strike me as na?ve enough to think I would make a good spy. You’re more likely to tell Sima your deepest, darkest secrets.”

The Master chuckled. “She’d be more likely to sell me out. The girl will do almost anything for some of those treats Frau Buckner gets at the pet store.”

He gestured at my left hand. “What do you know about that ring?”

I looked at the ring on my left thumb and shrugged. “Master Elias gave it to me. He said it was a focus, but never told me how to use it.”

“It’s a passive artifact,” the Master said. “You don’t ‘use it.’ It simply focuses your magic when you use magic. It keeps you from being distracted. Do you know what magical artifacts are?”

I shook my head.

“Objects can be imbued with magic. You’ve seen that with swords. Your katana is one type of magical artifact.” He held out his hand, displaying the heavy gold ring with a brilliant red gemstone that he always wore. “The stone is a reservoir. It is filled with magic that I could use if I were ever too far from a ley line. Other objects can be used to store specific types of elemental magic, such as fire magic or water magic. Do you follow me so far?”

I nodded.

“Only a spirit mage can create a magical artifact. A spirit mage created the ring you wear, and the ring I wear. Some artifacts are extremely powerful. A mage created one called StormBringer about eight hundred years ago. It’s been hidden away for the past three hundred years, but with it, a mage could control the weather. It was used with devastating effect during the Witch Wars. Some German mages caused some rather nasty problems with artifacts they created during the recent war here in Europe.”

He paused and let what he said sink in.

“But, I don’t know how to do any of that.”

“And I’m sure Nikolas Müller doesn’t know that you can’t. I doubt there are more than a dozen non-spirit mages in Switzerland who have any idea what it takes to create an artifact. Master Mikhail is one, but his knowledge is limited to weapon making.”

“And you think Müller wants me to build him something that gives him more power.”

He nodded. “Legends of artifacts are like legends of almost anything else—a kernel of truth mixed with a lot of wild speculation and grand tales. It might be possible to engineer a virus specific to strigoi that would kill them all. I have read some speculation that the viruses that create the strigoi and lycanthropes were engineered by mages long ago. If so, no one alive today was alive then, and the process wasn’t documented anywhere that I can find.”

He took a sip of his tea.

“But even a weapon he could wield to defeat his enemies inside the Guild—or to make the Knights Magica subservient to him—would interest Müller. The man has even more ambition than ego—and he has plenty of that. I imagine you baffle him. He’s used to women falling at his feet.”

I surprised myself by growling. “I’m not as impressed by masculinity as many women seem to be.”

The Master chuckled. “He doesn’t know your background. But be careful, Kaitlyn. You are quite powerful and very capable of defending yourself, but there are ways to capture or coerce almost anyone. You are aware of the hoods and shackles used to confine mages, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Those are also artifacts created by spirit mages. In fact, they are the most common magical artifacts created nowadays. One doesn’t have to be a master mage to reach that level of skill.”

“So, that is something I’ll be learning?”

“Oh, yes. First, we’ll start with a focus ring, then a reservoir, then objects to hold elemental magic. But it will be some years before we’ll attempt to control the weather or create viruses.”