[Shadowrun 41] - Born to Run Read online

  “Okay,” she told the troll.

  “Don’t worry, honey,” Jackie Ozone’s voice said from the telecom. “Lothan’s not the ladies’ man that he once was, though it’s true what they say about a man with some experience!” Her persona rolled her large eyes and giggled girlishly. Kellan saw Lothan’s bushy white brows draw together, and she would swear that the big troll blushed.

  “I’d say we’re done here,” he said, hitting a key on the telecom pad with a blunt finger. The screen suddenly went dark. Liada and G-Dogg chuckled softly as the runners got to their feet and said their good-byes before heading for the door. Orion and the Street Deacon had nothing to say before they made their exit, although the others lingered for a moment to talk.

  “So,” G-Dogg asked Kellan. “You crashing here tonight?”

  She glanced at Lothan a moment before responding, and the troll mage said, “I assure you, Kellan, despite Jackie’s childish jibes, you have nothing to fear from me. There’s a guest room where you can stay, and the door locks, if it makes you feel any better.”

  “Guess so,” she said turning back to G-Dogg. The ork nodded and punched her gently in the arm before he left.

  As the other runners showed themselves out, Kellan’s phone rang.

  “ ’Lo?” she said, and the spritely voice of Jackie Ozone greeted her.

  “Lothan’s okay,” the decker said, “but watch your back anyway.”

  “Thanks,” Kellan said in as neutral a tone as possible. “I will.”

  “Here’s a number where you can contact me.” Kellan’s phone beeped as it received the data. “Give me a buzz if you need anything. Welcome to Seattle,” Jackie said with a laugh. “Be seeing you.” Then the decker hung up. As she closed her phone and put it away, Kellan realized that she hadn’t asked Jackie how she’d gotten her number.

  7

  Although Lothan’s guest room wasn’t lavish, it was still the nicest place Kellan had slept in a long time—for sure since she had been out on her own. There was no comparison to the coffin hotel she had been crashing at since she arrived in Seattle. She didn’t miss the cramped quarters or the thin tem-perform padding one bit, and slept like a stone, despite the unusual surroundings and Jackie Ozone’s somewhat ominous warning to watch herself around Lothan.

  Nothing and no one disturbed her sleep and Kellan awoke feeling truly refreshed. She sat up in bed and stretched luxuriously, feeling her joints pop, and exhaled a deep breath.

  “Oh, good, you’re up!” a voice said. Kellan yelped and whipped her head around to find the source of the voice.

  Hovering above the headboard was a tiny figure, less than half a meter tall. It was humanoid, with a broad head that consisted mostly of a prominent nose and large, pointed ears. It had somewhat spindly arms and legs but large hands and feet. Especially striking were the batlike wings, the forked tail and the fact that the creature was translucent; Kellan could see the wall on the other side of it.

  “Who… what are you?” she asked, the blankets pulled up to her chin. The little creature bowed at the waist (such as it was) and waved an arm.

  “Nicodemus, I am,” it said in its high-pitched voice. “The master set me to wait and watch for you to awaken, he did. ‘Tell her when she wakes,’ he said.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Nicodemus seemed taken aback by that question and paused for a moment. His eyes rolled up and his brow furrowed in concentration as he rubbed his chin.

  “Hmmm,” he mused.

  “Tell me what?” Kellan repeated, and the little imp seemed to snap out of his reverie.

  “Said to tell you that you should wash and eat before you work today,” he replied. “Said to show you where everything is, and that he is not to be disturbed until he is ready. Come.” The spirit zipped closer to Kellan and waved with one hand. “Come, I will show you.”

  Kellan gathered up her clothing and cautiously followed the floating figure out of the room. Nicodemus led her to a bathroom, where Kellan shooed the imp away and enjoyed her second great pleasure of the last twelve hours: a long, hot shower. About halfway through, it occurred to her that this bathroom must be exclusively for guests: the facilities weren’t nearly large enough for a troll; Lothan would have only barely fit into the room.

  She was almost finished washing her hair when the imp passed through the frosted glass door of the shower like a ghost.

  “Do you want to eat now?” Nicodemus asked cheerfully. Kellan yelled and threw the soap at him, chasing him out of the shower. She found the spirit hovering outside the bathroom when she’d dried off and dressed. She wished she’d had the chance to clean her clothes, but it appeared that would have to wait. Nicodemus’ enthusiasm seemed undiminished by her outburst in the shower, and he led her to the kitchen, where Kellan found a plentiful supply of convenience food that even her limited cooking skills could handle. She popped a breakfast entree into the microwave and soon was dining on a meal that contained less soy than any meal she’d had in a while. Lothan clearly did all right for himself in the biz.

  Nicodemus hovered nearby, silently watching Kellan go about her business. She realized that he was probably guarding her as much as helping her, assigned to keep an eye on Lothan’s guest and make sure that she didn’t cause Lothan any headaches. Lothan was a wily old troll, that was for sure.

  If Lothan can teach me how to do stuff like that, she thought, glancing at Nicodemus, then G-Dogg is right: I can write my own ticket in this biz.

  It bothered her, though, that everyone G-Dogg had introduced her to yesterday seemed wary of Lothan, if not outright contemptuous. They were willing to work with him, but they didn’t seem to like him very much. Even G-Dogg, who stood up for Lothan, didn’t seem like the troll’s best friend. Then there was Jackie Ozone’s warning. What did she mean about Kellan “watching her back” around Lothan? Kellan was experienced and mature enough to understand that you didn’t have to like everyone you worked with, but she was a little worried about the apparently universal attitude toward Lothan.

  “So, feeling fortified for the day?”

  Kellan started at the sound of Lothan’s voice, and turned to see the old troll looming in the doorway of the kitchen. She choked down the food she was chewing and pushed her plate away.

  “Yeah, all set,” she said quickly.

  “Nicodemus said that you were awake. I had begun to think that you were going to sleep the day away, but I’m sure you needed the rest.”

  “Um, thanks,” Kellan said. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “A little after ten,” Lothan replied. “Still plenty of time to begin your training. We shouldn’t be hearing from the others until this evening. Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I guess so.”

  “Excellent. Then why don’t you join me in my study and we’ll get started. Nicodemus?” he said to the hovering spirit.

  “Yes, master?”

  “I won’t be needing you any further for now. You are dismissed.”

  “Yes, master.” Nicodemus bowed, then there was a tiny puff of wispy red smoke and the little imp vanished. Lothan turned and left the room without another word.

  Kellan cleared away the remains of her breakfast and retraced her steps to Lothan’s study. The house was considerably brighter and less spooky during the daytime, though Kellan noticed that Lothan had the heavy drapes drawn over the windows even during the day.

  When she entered the study, Lothan gestured to an empty chair set opposite his own.

  “Have a seat,” the troll invited.

  On the low table between the two chairs were laid out a number of familiar objects: several candles in tarnished brass holders, scraps of paper, a few rough-faceted crystals and a datapad. She had no idea how Lothan would use them in her lesson. Once Kellan sat down, the mage settled back into his own massive chair with a quiet sigh.

  “So,” he said. “Tell me, what is magic?”

  “Magic?” Kellan repeated. “It’s, you know, spells and st
uff.” She waved her hand vaguely in the air. “The ability to make things happen.” Lothan nodded encouragingly.

  “Not bad,” he said, “albeit quaintly phrased. Magic,” he began, holding up an index finger for emphasis, “is defined as the art and science of causing change with the will.” He opened his upheld hand with a flourish and in his palm blossomed the image of a beautiful nude woman with elfin features and tiny gossamer wings on her back. She was little more than ten centimeters tall, and spun and danced a complex ballet in the hollow of the troll’s palm. Kellan gaped at how realistic she looked.

  Then Lothan turned his hand over and dismissed the image with a wave. It dissipated in a shower of faerie dust and was gone.

  “A parlor trick,” the troll said with a degree of false modesty. “Magic can be used for far more useful and interesting things.”

  “Such as?” Kellan asked dryly. It was clear that Lothan intended to begin at the very beginning. If she were to be honest with herself, however, she had to admit that was a good thing, since she knew very little about what magic was and how it worked.

  “Theoretically, magic can do virtually anything,” Lothan said, ignoring her tone and settling back in his chair again. “But practically, it’s a bit more limited than that. Magic is the ability to perceive and shape certain forces, called mana, toward certain ends. It’s dependent upon the knowledge and the will of the magician using it. The more you know about how to shape magical forces and the stronger your will to direct them, the more you can accomplish. For example, the feat of magic that G-Dogg described you performing—setting fire to that ganger—is no easy trick.”

  “But I don’t even know how I did that.”

  “Precisely,” Lothan replied. “You have talent, but it’s raw, untrained and undisciplined. It responds solely to your emotions and your subconscious desires, and even then only in times of the direst need. It’s how many with the Talent discover their potential—when something forces it to the surface and they invoke the power for the first time. Tell me, how did you feel immediately after the incident?”

  “Really tired,” Kellan said. “Totally wiped. In fact, I passed out.”

  “Quite right. That is because using magic takes its toll on body, mind and spirit. Channeling magical energy takes effort, just the same as doing something with your hands or other muscles. Using too much magic can be draining, but, like strengthening any other muscle, you can build up your magical power. A simple spell like the one I just showed you is practically no effort at all for me, but an elemental spell like the one you used in that alley would be an effort for most spellcasters, though less draining than it was for you. It would be even easier for someone with my skills.”

  “Now then,” Lothan said, setting his hands on his knees and leaning forward a bit. “We’ve established what magic is. Let’s consider a bit more how it happens, shall we?” When Kellan nodded her agreement, he continued. “As I said, magic involves a certain kind of energy, called mana. Mana, the source of magical power, is an invisible force that’s present all around us.” He gestured expansively with his arms for emphasis. “It’s like the air we breathe, or perhaps like the constant stream of radio and broadcast signals all around us. Magicians—those with the Talent—are like antennas, able to tune in to the right frequencies and channel mana.”

  “Can you run out of energy?” Kellan asked.

  “Not really. It’s far more likely that a magician will exhaust his ability to channel mana before ever exhausting the source of the energy itself, though there are some cases where mana can be aspected toward a particular… But I digress,” the troll said, wagging a finger at Kellan.

  “Now where was I… ? Ah, yes. Magicians shape mana in a few specific ways. First is to cause effects in the physical world, ranging from creating glamours and illusions like the one I showed you to hurling fire and lightning, levitating objects, or even transforming physical structure. This is the art of sorcery, and it is the primary art of magic. Second, magicians channel mana to open gateways to the metaplanes to summon and bind various sorts of spirits to do their bidding. This is the art of conjuring.”

  “Is that how you summoned Nicodemus?”

  “Yes, a minor feat of conjury,” Lothan said with a nod. “Watcher spirits like Nicodemus are useful for some minor tasks, but they can’t be entrusted with too much. Their capacities are rather limited. There are far more powerful spirits, but they are more dangerous to summon and more difficult to control. We’ll discuss conjuring further at some point, but for now it’s best to focus on the basics.” Kellan nodded and allowed Lothan to continue.

  “Finally,” the troll said, “magicians invest mana into physical objects, giving those objects magical properties and making them useful tools in performing magic. This is the art of enchanting, which produces things like your amulet,” gesturing toward Kellan’s necklace, “and this.”

  Lothan reached over and picked up a heavy staff from where it rested next to his desk. It was made of wood, gnarled and carved with mystical symbols and writing. It was topped with a reddish crystal that gleamed in the sunlight that filtered through the heavy curtains. It was decorated with bands of copper and bronze.

  “The Staff of Candor-Brie,” Lothan intoned. “One of the more useful trinkets I’ve acquired over the years.”

  Kellan could almost feel the magic radiating from the massive staff, like a wave of static electricity tingling across her skin.

  “What does it do?” she asked.

  “It’s not what a particular focus does that is important, but what it allows you to do. A focus is just that: a tool for focusing the magical abilities and powers of its wielder. It’s of no use to someone without the Talent, and the more capable the wielder, the more effective the focus can be.” He carefully replaced the staff, then rubbed his hands briskly. “Enough theory for the moment. Let’s try something a bit more practical.”

  Lothan picked up a thick candle from the table between them, checking the fit of the bottom of the taper in the old brass candleholder before setting it in the middle of the table.

  “Now then, since you’ve already demonstrated an affinity for setting things on fire,” the mage said with a smile, “let’s try an experiment.” He gestured toward the fresh wick of the candle. “Light this candle.”

  “How?” Kellan asked, looking from the taper to the troll and back.

  “Well, first,” Lothan said, “clear your mind. Don’t think about how it’s done. Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now I want to you focus on the wick of the candle. Allow your attention to rest on it, but don’t allow your focus to drift. It’s critical when doing magic to be able to see the subject of your spell,” he continued in a low, soothing tone of voice. “The image of your subject is a key part of the spell.

  “Now I want you to concentrate on the image of fire. Feel the heat rushing through your limbs. Hear the roar and crackle of it. Feel it burning inside of you, building up. Feel the idea, the essence of fire. Take hold of it. Direct it toward the wick of the candle. Take hold of the fire within you, make it yours, and direct it.”

  The candle remained unlit. “It’s not working,” Kellan said.

  “Patience, patience,” Lothan replied. “Concentrate. I want you to remember your encounter in the alley, when you saw G-Dogg fighting. Remember how you felt when the ork grabbed you. Remember when you were fighting for your life.”

  Kellan recalled Horse’s sneering face, his rough voice threatening violence, the smell of him looming over her. A reddish haze surrounded the edges of her vision and her skin felt hot.

  “Yes,” Lothan said softly. “Take the fire, Kellan. It is yours. Direct it at the candle.”

  There was a dull roaring in Kellan’s ears. Then she raised one hand and pointed at the candle, thrusting her finger forward. The building energy seemed to pour out of her like water from a hose and the candle suddenly burst into flames. Not just a tiny flame, but a gout of fire that shot up toward the ceiling. The ca
ndle instantly melted and Lothan cursed, waving his hands in the air.

  Kellan slumped in the chair and the flames went out as suddenly as they’d appeared. A puddle of molten wax slowly spread across the table, but otherwise the study was no worse the wear for the unexpected fire. Kellan felt tired, but not as drained as she had felt in the alley.

  “I’m sorry,” she told Lothan, but the troll mage shook his head.

  “It’s all right, your spell was just a bit more… vigorous than I expected,” he said. “I’ll just have to take that into account next time. Still, it was an excellent first step.”

  “It was?” Kellan replied.

  “Absolutely. Many fledgling magicians take weeks or months before they are able to cast their first spell. You seem to have picked up this one almost instinctively. This effect is an elemental manipulation commonly called a flamethrower.”

  “So I cast a spell? That’s all there is to it?” Kellan asked. “What about the magic words and stuff?” she gestured vaguely with one hand, making a mystical-looking pass through the air.

  Lothan chuckled. “I’ll let you in on yet another of the secrets of wizardry,” he said, leaning in toward Kellan. “The truth is that all the chants, the magic words, the grand gestures—they’re just window dressing. Useful, to be sure, because they help you to focus your mind and your will on what it is you’re doing—and that can be vital when you need to cast the right spell in a hurry—but it’s not strictly necessary. The pointing, for example,” he nodded at the melted candle on the table, “that was a nice touch, and it probably helped you direct the spell, but you could have accomplished the same thing without it.”

  Just then, a glowing point of light passed through the door of the study. It was like the light that led Kellan and G-Dogg through the house the previous night—perhaps the same one. Kellan couldn’t tell, though now she could guess that it was some kind of watcher spirit, similar to Nicodemus. It floated over to Lothan and hovered by the troll’s horns for a moment. He cocked his head and seemed to be listening to something Kellan couldn’t hear. Then he waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal, and the light sped out of the room as he turned back to Kellan.