Page 6 of Where Exorcists Cannot Lie

The voices sounded distant and unimportant. Bothersome. I wanted nothing more than to shut them down and continue on with my flight. Their perseverance, however, propelled me to refocus and liberate myself from my trance.

Harnessing the last bit of strength and sanity I had left, I willed my aura into work. It took more time and effort than it should, but I managed to formulate the marker—a little nugget of Magic. Akin to a glass marble, it glistened with shades of indigo, purple and violet. I poured enough spiritual essence into it to make it last ninety sunrises. Then, I sealed it into the outside fold. As soon as I completed that task, I tore myself away.

I emerged dizzy and racked with lingering separation pain. Something I’d read about but had never experienced in my entire career as an Exorcist.

Little by little, the blur receded towards the edges of my vision. I rubbed at my forehead as though by wiping the sweat off my brow I could rid myself of the brain fog. Then, I clasped my shaking hands behind my back.

“Master Bao, is everything—”

“It’s fine and dandy,” I croaked, exercising all my mental faculties to come across as calm and together. “All done now.”

I considered Morhh, his chest heaving. For an instant, the first time that night, his countenance reflected something beyond confident composure.

“Can you afford the fine?” I asked in a businesslike voice. “If not a community service—”

“Look in the wardrobe,” Morhh said.

“Orgo.” I jerked my head in the direction of the ornate mahogany closet taking up three-quarters of the length of the wall.

Orgo pulled the door open and gave the garments inside a quick rummage through. “Nothing here. Just clothes.”

Morhh made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I need to deactivate my protection spell first, boy.”

I gestured for him to go ahead, following his every move like a hawk.

His face recouped its casual expression. He folded his fingers into a couple of seals I didn’t recognise.

A popping sound came from inside the wardrobe.

“Got it, the backboard slid to the right,” Orgo said in a muffled voice, his behind the only part of him visible from the depths of the furniture.

He finally reappeared with his hair in disarray, huffing under the weight of the ample coin chest tucked under his arm. It clamoured against the floor as he set it down, none too gently. The hinges creaked upon opening, displaying a mountain of silver that could finance the lavish lifestyle of a small family for six months.

“Holy shit,” Orgo said under his breath.

Jiminta’s pupils expanded. “And they say crime doesn’t pay.”

Morhh's mouth curled up as he glanced down at his nails—black, shiny and almond-shaped.

Out of concern for the apprentices’ morale, I hastened to end this non-educational scene. “All right, it’s getting late. Let’s wrap it up. Jiminta, count out two hundred coins of that lot.” I waited for her to do it before continuing, “The three of you will deposit the silver with the clerk in the office. Don’t forget to file the receipt with the paperwork. The boxes go to the evidence room. Before you finish for the night, I need every single item booked, rated against the standard Magic potency chart and recorded in the entry register. I’ll check it over tomorrow morning when I make my report. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master Bao.” The answer came in unison.

“Off you go, then. Good job tonight. I’ll mention that to your tutor.”

I came to the door to pull it wide open so the beaming juniors could pass while having their hands full with the crates. I hovered at the threshold for a few heartbeats until I heard them reach the top of the stairs. Then, with a sudden resolve, I shut the door behind them and turned around to face Morhh.

One of his eyebrows slid up his forehead, but he didn’t seem surprised.

“It’s just you and me now, Little Mage,” he said. “However, you’re awfully far away for what I have in mind.”

“What would that be?” I said, taking slow but deliberate steps towards him.

He sighed. “We could, of course, stand here and dance around it. Pretend it’s not inevitable. That our Magic isn’t compatible to the extent it hurts.” Morhh trailed his palm down his torso, tracing the grove running from his sternum all the way towards his navel. As if bewitched, I followed the move with my gaze. “That your aura isn’t, just like mine, twisted up in knots, straining to be let rampant. Or, we could…”

“Yes?”

“Do something about it, given that you’re now done with your mission of making me homeless and destitute.”

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