A Smidge of Magic

Chapter 41

Across Raxal Ian and Vale secured a carriage together with Mal, getting off a few blocks before the law firm. Mal stuck to the shadows while they milled about on the street acting like tourists. Ian had even procured a map, and they asked a few passersby for directions, all the while surveilling the entrances of the office building. They watched as their stout, horned companion entered the building, signaling them it was time to go.

They crossed the street heading into another building that was currently undergoing renovations. Which also meant it was deserted this time of day. The trio slipped into the alleyway and reached the back door. After a swift check, Vale found no magical locks in place. She pulled out one of her blades and made two swift cuts then kicked the door in. The locked knob stayed where it was, but the door swung in around it. She gestured Ian inside while spinning and flipping her blade back into its sheath. Ian glanced at the cuts as he walked past and judged that her blades must have some magical properties. There was no way she'd have been able to cut through the door so easily, it was three inches thick and made of solid wood. Inside a standard office layout greeted them. The floors and walls were lined with tarps and tools for construction, including a few wands.

"Well, this will make things easier," Ian commented as he headed for the floortal.

"Stay, guard." She said, giving Mal a scratch. He nuzzled her hand and then melted into the shadows.

"Damn, looks like the power's out," Ian said as he jabbed his finger at the call button.

"I do not see what strength has to do with floortal movement..." Vale said, before she realized what he'd meant. "Oh, you mean the flow? Yes, it looks like the flow is out. We'll have to walk. Let's go, we don't want to be late."

The pair dashed up the stairs. With the building undergoing renovations, spots were torn up or missing the floor entirely. They were forced to leap, climb, and improvise their way up the floors. It was oddly familiar to Ian. D.C., like most major U.S. cities, was under an infinite cycle of improvement. And in his flatfoot days, Ian had chased more than his fair share of suspects through construction sites. Ander's, on more than one occasion, had lost his temper with Ian when the younger detective dove over holes or hauled himself up a broken staircase in pursuit of a suspect. The memory of Anders admonishment brought a bitter smile to Ian's lips.

They breached the roof as the sun dipped below the wall that encompassed the city. Sweat dripped from Ian's brow and Vale looked like she was ready for a modeling shoot. She pulled a long coil of silk rope and dropped it on the roof. Ian grabbed one end, tying it off to an exhaust pipe while Vale secured the other end to an arrow. She nocked the arrow and cast a glance back to Ian.

"Okay, fire away," Ian said, giving her a thumbs up.

The arrow sailed out into the settling dusk and struck the door frame on the law firm's rooftop. Ian pulled the rope taut and tied it off again. He took a quick glance over the edge and regretted the decision.

Twenty stories below them people were pouring out of buildings as the work day ended. If it weren't for the martial weapons, pointed wizard hats, and suits of armor it would've looked like any other downtown end of a shift. He leaned back and checked his gun for the umpteenth time, slipping it back into his holster with satisfaction. The ivy had not returned since he'd cut it away with his survival card at the smithy back in Landorei. The card was becoming worth its weight in gold on his journey.

Roland stood on the sidewalk making idle conversation with a Bogkin vendor. Presently they were in a deep discussion about what the goblin used to season the meat. Every once in a while, a flick of his violet eyes aimed skyward, and then back to the vendor. The spell he needed was locked in his mind. His slight sway, and fermented breath, revealed his state of readiness.