Wanderers: Ragnarök Read online

  I took it. She had a firm grip and even though I felt no frailty in her hand, I kept my grip below her level. “My name is Raphael Semmes, my friends call me Rafe.”

  “Well, Raphael. I already have an apprentice and I’m not sure I’m up to taking on anyone new, but if you work here, you’ll pick up some of the craft. It wouldn’t be too hard, especially for someone with talent.”

  “Then I get the job?”

  She smiled. “Don’t be so anxious. There are a couple conditions that have to be met before I decide.”

  “Oh?”

  “Do you mind if I read your aura?”

  I’d expected the question. No self-respecting witch would hire someone without personally checking their aura. I had assumed she checked it when I came in. Maybe she thought it was bad manners not to ask first, or maybe she just didn’t want me to know she’d already checked me out. “Why of course not ma’am, I mean Abigail.”

  She concentrated, staring at me as though trying to burn a hole through my skull. I tried not to think of things best left unthought. After a minute Abigail blinked, then relaxed. “Well, not too dark, but definitely green and without any noticeable black spots.”

  “Thank you, Abigail.”

  Walt had taught me to modify my aura’s appearance as a necessary part of doing what we do. An aura demonstrated your leanings and the innate strength of your magical abilities. The deeper the color, the more power you could control. The color itself told whether you followed earth magic, green; core magic, blue; God magic, white; or night magic, black. Spots or bands of color demonstrated some proficiency in the minor color. Since I’d studied some earth magic, I could hide the primary color of a Wanderer behind the green tint. Grey forms the ambiguous aura of a Wanderer’s magic, neither white, black, core or earth, but a fusing of any useful magic.

  “Now, for the last condition. You’ll have to work well with my apprentice. I can’t be spoiling her education by creating disharmonies in her environment.”

  I laughed lightly. “That won’t be a problem. I’m easy to get along with.”

  She smiled at my confident boast. “We’ll see, young man. What I’m looking for is general assistance. My apprentice comes in around five. With autumn we get an increase in business and I need someone to stay until closing with her.”

  “I’m happy to meet any schedule you need,” I said.

  “Good. Now finish your tea while it’s still warm.”

  A few minutes later Abigail gave me a tour of the shop, describing the method of inventory and pricing policy. While some items were priced, she informed me that all of the prices were negotiable and varied depending on who was buying them. What mattered more than price was what use the customer would make of their selection.

  “That’s an interesting way of doing business. How do you manage a profit?” I asked.

  “Profit is secondary. I just try to break even.”

  “Ah.”

  After a bit, a young couple came in and Abigail left me alone while she waited on them. I browsed the shelves and meandered up and down the aisles getting a feel for everything’s location.

  At the back of the shop, I found two doors. A glance through the left door disclosed a stock room and back stairs leading up, but the other door was unmarked and locked.

  I stood in front of it, not more than a foot away from its stout frame, and focused. There was power there. Earth and night together. I could feel the potential like an enormous charge on high voltage lines. Serious magic was contained behind the door, but it was more than a door. I activated my senses tat and took a closer look. Wiccan runes covered the doorjamb; they glowed to my enhanced senses with a menace not commonly found in Wiccan magic. The runes formed a shielding ward of considerable power about the doorframe. More power than I’d have thought Abigail capable of. Power enough to do serious harm to anyone, even me, if I attempted to breach it unprepared.

  This then was what Fate had sent me for. Those I confronted, be they human, demon, or one of the other supernatural beings were invariably drawn to any source of enormous power. Whatever Abigail had locked away was impossible for any megalomaniac to ignore. They craved power the way a pubescent male craves sex. The source of the magic, I felt could be an object of power or even an ancient grimoire. Exactly what it was wasn’t a major concern. Now that I had located it, I just needed to wait until someone or something arrived to claim it. As I said, Wanderers are Fate’s tool; we aren’t drawn to anything until it becomes the focus of malignant forces.

  “What are you doing?” The voice was young and feminine, and familiar.

  I eased off my focus, cooled my tat, and turned toward her with a smile already on my face. “So, we meet again. This is a pleasant surprise. I hope you aren’t still sore about last night.”

  She stood with her feet planted firmly, shoulder width apart, and her arms were crossed beneath her breasts. Her hair was free from its bindings and lay both behind and in front of her shoulders. Her lips, naturally red I saw, were clinched. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  I could still smell demon on her. It was faint, masked by a smell of cleanser, lemon, and vinegar, but still there. “Come on. Don’t be that way; you know I was only trying to help. You’d have done the same thing if you’d been in my place.”

  “Not likely. If I were going to kill it, I would have done it before it was close enough to slime its intended prey.”

  Abigail came around the corner of a tall display before I could respond. “What are you two arguing about? Cynthia, do you know this young man?”

  “We’ve met,” Cynthia gave me a glower.

  I responded with a cheerful: “But we haven’t been introduced. My name is Raphael Semmes, Rafe to my friends. Please to meet you.”

  I held my hand out toward her.

  She ignored it. “You have friends?”

  “Cynthia! Don’t be rude,” Abigail said.

  Cynthia stared at my hand long enough to make me uncomfortable, then took it and gave it a brief shake. “I’m Cynthia Ronue.”

  As she released her grip, something passed over her face and she snatched my hand back. She stepped close and raised my hand toward her face.

  “Is something wrong, dear?” Abigail asked.

  Cynthia sniffed delicately at my fingers and frowned. “This is the boy I had trouble with last night. He killed the shadow demon I was hunting.”

  “Ah,” Abigail said with a raise of one eyebrow. “And why doesn’t that surprise me? But why are you doing that?”

  Cynthia stopped sniffing my hand and held it out toward Abigail. “There’s no smell. I spent hours trying to wash it off me last night and now he shows up with no sign of the smell on him.”

  Abigail stared at my well-tanned hand for a second then shook her head. “My dear, a lady does not sniff a man’s hand. I could tell he didn’t have demon smell on him. I wouldn’t allow a stranger wearing that odor in my shop.”

  Cynthia finally dropped my hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for a job.” I turned toward Abigail and added in mock horror, “Don’t tell me that this is the apprentice that has to like me.”

  Abigail tried to hide her smile. “That’s right. My dear, he’s looking for work and I told him that I’d hire him if he were acceptable to you.”

  “In that case…”

  I raised a hand. “Now don’t be hasty. Don’t say something you’ll regret later.”

  “Why him?” She asked Abigail.

  “Why not him? I checked Raphael’s aura and it’s acceptable. He has training, although we haven’t determined how much. He’s interested in learning and as long as he doesn’t interfere with your studies he’ll make a nice addition.”

  “Well, I don’t like him. He’s not acceptable to me.”

  I gave her my best hurt-puppy look but omitted the panting.

  “Are you just upset that he spoiled your hunt last night or is there logic behind your objection?” Abigail asked.
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br />   “He’s too young.”

  “Nonsense, dear. He’s at least as old as you are and has some experience. Besides, he’ll be observing more than actually training with you.”

  “I don’t trust him. People don’t just do what he did.”

  “Funny, that’s what I thought about you last night,” I said. “Do you do that often?”

  “Do what?” She snapped.

  “Wander around in the dark luring unsuspecting demons to their doom.”

  “No, not often,” Cynthia said.

  “Do you have so many that they’re common?”

  Cynthia frowned. “No, that was just the second one this year. We don’t often get talents from out of town either, at least not ones as young as you.”

  “I didn’t say I was a talent.”

  “No one else could have killed the demon with a stone.” She glanced at my left wrist. The end of twine stuck out from under my shirt cuff and lay across the top of my watch. “Is that a sling?”

  “Cynthia, you’re being rude,” Abigail admonished.

  Cynthia’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. I smiled pleasantly at her and waited.

  “Cynthia,” Abigail said.

  “All right. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” I smiled graciously.

  “Cynthia told me about last night. When I first saw you, I thought you must be the same man she encountered in the park. Not many people can spot a gershin and even less can kill one with a sling,” Abigail said.

  “It was a lucky shot,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I guessed,” Cynthia agreed.

  The front door squeaked and the bell chimed.

  “Luck is just another form of magic,” Abigail said. “I have a customer. I’ll leave you two youngsters. Get to know each other better.”

  She walked away, leaving us to stare at each other.

  “You may have sweet-talked Abigail, but it’ll take more than sweet-talk to convince me you’re harmless. What were you doing at that door?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, and then smiled back at her. “The wood.”

  “The wood?”

  “Yes, I thought it was oak, but as I stared closely at the grain I could see it was more like English walnut. That’s an unusual wood for a door.

  “Of course, there’s also the ward Abigail has on it. It’s so strong that even I couldn’t help sensing it. What’s she got back there?” I asked.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” Cynthia said, but her eyes glanced toward the door as she spoke and I realized that whatever was back there frightened her.

  “Must be something really important if she needs to protect it that much,” I said.

  Her frown deepened. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m being nosy and you’re correct in calling me on it. Look, Cynthia, there’s no reason we can’t be friends. I was trying to help you last night; don’t I get the benefit of the doubt for that much?”

  “Perhaps, but maybe you were just trying to look like you were helping me. You might have been attempting to make sure I didn’t capture the demon.”

  “Come on now, why wouldn’t I want you to catch it?” I asked.

  “You might be the one who’s been causing problems around here. If so you certainly wouldn’t want me scrying it.”

  I spread my arms and looked down at my torso, then back up at her. “You think I have the power to call demons. Do I look like a full witch?”

  She crossed her arms below her breasts again and I had to fight to keep my eyes on hers. “You look like a deceitful person. I think you’re capable of lying to your own mother, but no, you don’t give me the feeling that you know enough magic to summon demons. I’ll bet if you tried you’d end up being taken by what you called.”

  “Not that I’d try.”

  “I don’t know. Men your age seem ready to try anything to advance in power. That’s why most Wiccans are women. Men have a difficult time letting nature take its course.”

  “Ah, spoken like a true Wicca, or should I say feminist?”

  “Say whatever you like. Your opinion is meaningless to me.”

  “He must have really broken your heart,” I said.

  Her mouth dropped open and for a moment she seemed to doubt her ears. “What did you say?”

  “The guy who left you so bitter. You must have been in love with him for it to bother you so.”

  Her face reddened to new heights of brightness. “I…my personal life is none of your concern and stop trying to change the subject.”

  “Our relationship will have to involve trust.”

  “Relationship?” she sputtered. “We don’t have a relationship.”

  I turned toward the front of the store and smiled. Then softly, barely loud enough for her to hear, I said, “Not yet.”

  “What?”

  I ignored her question and walked through the stacks, running my finger across the top of dusty books as I went. She followed, sputtering and trying to come up with a sufficiently sharp barb for her rebuke.

  Abigail was ringing up a sale when I came around the last stack. Cynthia, right on my heels, had to break off whatever retort she’d finally decided on.

  I stopped beside the counter and waited for the couple to start up the stairs. “Abigail, when would you like me to start?”

  Abigail looked from me to Cynthia and waited. I expected another protest from Cynthia, but she shrugged. “He’s irritating but harmless. I can get along with him if that’s what you want.”

  Abigail nodded thoughtfully. “I knew you’d make the right choice, dear. Now then, we have a small group coming over tonight after closing. Come back then, and we’ll introduce you to what passes for a coven in this neck of the woods.”

  “What time will that be?” I asked.

  “Nine, but most of these ladies don’t know what punctuality is. Be back here by eight. You can help Cynthia with the closing and stick around for the coven. The others will want to meet you.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. We may not be much as covens go, but we like to keep up with any talent that comes into town.”

  “All right, eight it is,” I glanced at my watch, an old analog Omega I’d bought on my tour back in Vietnam. “That gives me a little time to find a room and get cleaned up.”

  “Nonsense. You can’t afford a room on what I’m going to pay you.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a key ring. “Cynthia, take him to my place and give him the guest room in the front of the house.”

  “Your place?” Cynthia said.

  “Abigail, you’re too kind,” I protested. “Really, I’ll find a place I can afford.”

  “If you’re going to learn from me, the first thing you need to know is that I don’t take no for an answer. It’ll be more convenient for us both if you stay at my place. As long as you don’t play loud music, we’ll get along fine.”

  “I’d actually prefer my own place.”

  Her nose elevated a fraction. “You will have your own room, but I want you where I can keep an eye on you. I’m vouching for you with the coven. You could hardly be a threat while staying in my home. That’s my final word. If you want this job, you’ll have to stay with me until I decide otherwise.”

  “Does Cynthia stay at your house too?” I asked, deliberately not glancing toward Cynthia as I spoke.

  “Certainly not,” Cynthia snapped.

  “Then why—”

  “I’ve known Cynthia for years.” She raised a hand to Cynthia’s head and stroked her hair. A gesture I took to be possessive, but then decided it was the response of mother to child. “I’m comfortable with her. Now, do you want the job?”

  Of course, I wanted the job, but I needed my privacy in more ways than I cared to tell. “All right then, I’ll stay with you until you say otherwise.”

  “You gave in too quickly,” Cynthia said. “I thought you’d have more backbone.”

  “Don’t t
ease him, dear; it’s not lady-like. I seem to remember someone else being agreeable to whatever I demanded.”

  “Yes, but I…”

  “You were still young? My dear, you’re both still young to me. Now run along. Get yourselves some supper while you’re out; it’s going to be a long night.”

  I grabbed my saddlebags, draped them over a shoulder, and followed Cynthia up the stairs. I enjoyed following her. It gave me the opportunity to observe the molding of her jeans around her shapely hips. It was a very agreeable fit.

  The sidewalk and street were more crowded than earlier as rush hour had come. Cynthia turned right on the sidewalk.

  “Lovely weather. Is it normal for this time of year?” I asked.

  She glanced at me and then turned, frostily ignoring my remark.

  “Come on, Abigail said you should be polite. You could at least discuss the weather with me.”

  “Abigail is a sweet old woman who judges people more by magic than by their actions. So far, your actions haven’t given me any reason to make idle conversation with you.”

  We walked in silence for a distance, and then I said, “You’re still miffed about the demon.”

  Cynthia gave me a look that would have transformed milk into blue cheese. She glanced around. There was no one else close. Her voice was as tight as piano wire. “We don’t discuss such matters in public.”

  “There’s nobody near, besides, most people ignore conversations between young lovers. It makes them uncomfortable. Admit it, the only reason you’re miffed is that I got the stink off me and you couldn’t.”

  “That’s not it. Wait…Lovers? What would give them that idea?”

  “Two attractive people in the prime of life, walking down the street, almost touching, and talking in hushed whispers. What else would they think?”

  She blushed again. From embarrassment or anger?

  “Then we can talk louder and walk farther apart,” she said. “I wouldn’t want anyone I know to see us and get the wrong impression.”

  I stepped closer and raised a hand to her arm. “How about I show you how to get the odor off? It’s a trick that’ll come in handy if you’re going to keep up the demon killing.”