Page 23 of Elixir of Strife
But young Leonardo Alcantara here was already a good way through his first waffle, munching merrily, without complaint. I glowered at his plate, at the mounds of whipped cream. Either he was much hungrier than he’d let on, or he’d somehow stumbled on the one good thing the diner had to offer.
“Now,” I said, folding my hands together. “About the thing at the docks.”
Leon blinked. “The thing? You mean the steam.”
“No. You know what I mean. The thing. With your hand. When you cast your water magic?”
His shoulders rounded. “Promise you won’t hate me.”
“Promise,” I said slowly. “I might be annoyed for a bit if you haven’t been completely honest with me, but I won’t hate you.”
I didn’t think I could ever hate him.
Leon drew a long, slow breath, then exhaled. “Okay. So when I cast that spell — when I Emanate? I’m actually calling on dragons to unleash their magic.”
I blinked this time. “Dragons. Actual dragons. Inside you.”
“Don’t act so surprised. I’m contracted to them, bound by the laws of the cosmos or whatever. That time I scared you, that was just an illusion. But they came to me after that, asked if I could manifest their magic in the world. A way to let them relive their glory days, I guess. In return, I get a taste of draconic might.”
None of this sounded made-up. In many traditions throughout the world, and not only in witchcraft, otherworldly beings and entities played important roles in the making of great magic. Negotiating with gods, currying favor from spirits, hell, even deals with the devil. Standard stuff.
“It’s just what witches do, Max.” He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, his lips in an odd combination of a frown and a pout. “You’ve suspected for a while now, I’m sure. You have your reasons for asking.”
“Actually, I’m mostly asking because our favorite Masque came up to me again recently. In the alley behind Unholy Grounds, in fact. As for hating you — why would this make me hate you? It’s kind of awesome, really. Huh. Dragons. Elemental dragons. Cool.”
He lowered his utensils, watching me warily. “So you don’t think less of me for communing with the spirits? Ancients. Entities. Whatever.”
My forehead creased. “Why would I judge you for that? It’s a fair exchange of power, and you’ve shown that you can handle everything the dragons give you.”
The smile returned to his lips. Leon sat a little straighter on his side of the booth. How long had he been worrying about this? Was he afraid to tell me all this time?
“By its very nature, that kind of magic is transactional,” I continued. “Only fools would consider it a shortcut. Entities would never lend their power to a mortal unless that mortal paid the price.” My hand gripped the edge of the table tight. “You do know what price you’re paying, don’t you?”
Leon pursed his lips, suddenly looking like a child, like his fork and knife were too big in his hands. “The initial contact — you know, when we seal the pact? It hurts like hell. Twice now. With Tiamat, it felt like flames surging through my whole body. With Bakunawa — oh, God. Like saltwater in my blood.”
I winced, the very suggestion of the agony enough to make me reconsider any exploration into Leon’s half of the arcane arts. I knew that contracts with supernatural beings could imbue mages with enormous power. But at that price?
“There’s more,” he mumbled.
My eyes went wide open. “Oh, good. There’s more.”
He sighed. “When they manifest — that is, when they Emanate — the magic gets traced back to me. I serve as the vessel, the conduit to this world. It means that whatever uses me as a host doesn’t have to catch heat. From, well, you know. Big Brother. Big Mother. Big Other. Take your pick.”
I snapped my fingers. “That explains why the Masques knew about your, uh, activities. But it looks like they’ve sniffed out how you aren’t channeling furry friends and woodland creatures when you Emanate.”
Because even the entities fell under the watchful eye of Earth’s many magical organizations, those who fought to keep our kind out of sight of regular humanity, the normals. If the general population became aware of the mages and gods that walked among them — if world governments knew? I couldn’t imagine.
“They’re just so powerful, is my guess,” Leon said, tucking back into his waffles. “Can’t hide the traces of their presence. But it’s not like I’ve been using them to do harm. The Masques can’t pin anything on me. They should be out there tracking down whoever’s breaking bottles and turning the docks into an outdoor sauna.”
Or maybe the dragons wanted to make their presence felt. Maybe they longed for the glory of wreaking havoc and terror. Back at the docks, the shape of Leon’s hand, that strange dragon’s head?
“You mentioned two dragons,” I said. “So you can call on them any time you like?”
His eyes went up to the ceiling as he gave it some thought. “Technically, I’m pretty sure I can only carry one at a time. They take turns. I’m like a studio. But, you know, like a really sexy one.”
I chuckled, though I was only somewhat satisfied. I had to wonder whether these Emanations weren’t costing Leon anything else. I’d have to feel that out, talk to him even more delicately about it some day.
“How’s your thing?” Leon nodded at my plate, the miserable stacks of soggy bread and potatoes. “You’ve barely touched it.”
