Page 2 of Sinister Magic
“If you change your mind or have further concerns, we can schedule another appointment, but from what you’ve told me of your life, you might want to relax alittle.”
“I’ve told you next to nothing about mylife.”
“I can read between the lines. You seem driven. How’s work? How’s your stress load? Are you able to take time off torelax?”
“Uh.” I glanced down at the cave to make sure my target hadn’t sauntered out on the ledge to contemplate my potential as a meal. “When Ican.”
“And how are your relationships with family andfriends?”
“I fail to see what that has anything to dowith—”
“Do you have a good social supportgroup?”
I thought of Colonel Willard, the military contact who gave me assignments, and Nin, the woman in Seattle who made my magical weapons. Did they count? My ex-husband and my daughter were… people I kept tabs on but never visited, too afraid my work would endangerthem.
“It’s fine,” Isaid.
“Hm.” Why did Brightman sound like he didn’t believe me? The connection wasn’t good enough to detect lies. “I’ve got a friend who’s an excellent therapist. I can’t make appointments for you, but I can make a referral. We can set everything up so you get a text and can book online. Easy peasy. I highly recommend you work on your stress levels, your relationships, and your sleep—do you sleepwell?”
No, I dreamed of all the mutilated victims that my targets had killed before I’d killedthem.
“That silence speaks volumes, Val. I’ll get that referral in pronto. And have you tried yoga? Some relaxation and deep breathing exercises? Meditation? Why don’t you work on your lifestyle for six months, and then we’ll recheck your inflammationlevels.”
Yoga? Meditation?Therapy?
“Shit.” I hung up and stuffed the phone in mypocket.
I crept down the cliff and landed soundlessly on the ledge at the mouth of the cave. Crouching, I peered into a tunnel far darker than the cloudy gloom of the Oregoncoast.
“Yeshelya,” I whispered, touching one of the charms hanging from the leather thong around myneck.
My eyes tingled as magic took hold. After a few seconds, the walls of the uneven passage grew clear, as did the spot where it curved around a bend. A few fish bones scattered the rock floor, and the pungent smells of an animal’s den mingled with the salty fishiness of theocean.
Before reaching for another charm, the feline figurine at the center of my necklace that I’d risked my life to acquire, I made myself take a hit from the loathed inhaler. I didn’t want a witness to this new weakness I’ddeveloped.
“Sindari,” I whispered, a name this time, not a magical word I could barely pronounce. “Time to come out andplay.”
Gray mist appeared at my side, and my othersocial connectionformed inside of it, the great silver tiger quickly growing as solid as any Earth animal. Only the faint glow that emanated from his black-striped silver fur and the intelligence gleaming in his green eyes gave him away asmagical.
It’s about time,Sindari said telepathically through our mental connection.The air stinks ofwyverns.
There’s only one left. We got the other two already. Unless you can smell more?As far as I knew, I had the telepathic aptitude of a smooth, dull rock, but when I responded in my head, Sindari always heardme.
The tiger’s nostrils twitched.There is only one. This will be a disappointingly boring battle.His head cocked slightly.Ah, but it is a female. Good. Females are morechallenging.
Luckyus.
Yes.
Before we headed in, I took my phone out once more, this time to play the video I’d saved. Shaky footage that someone had recorded in Thousand Acres Park outside of Portland rolled forme.
Three blue wyverns, their leathery wings flapping as they came out of the trees, dove down and attacked children playing on the Sandy River beach. Some of the kids got away. Others were pulled up into the treetops where the wyverns feasted. Four children and a mother had been killed thatday.
“Let’s do this,” I said grimly, replacing the phone and pulling Fezzik out of my thighholster.
The compact submachine pistol had similar features to a Heckler & Koch MP7, but Nin had made it from scratch, and the elven half of my blood recognized the magic emanating from it and from the individual cartridges in the magazine. The gun was almost as powerful as Chopper, the longsword I’d won in battle long ago and that I wore sheathed on my back. If this went to hell and the wyvern got close before I could take it down, I would switch to theblade.
Sindari led the way. Normally, I wouldn’t let someone else go first, but if he was grievously injured, he could instantly return to the safety of his realm toheal.