Page 9 of The Reluctant Incubus
But the longer I’m inside, the more time there is for something to go sideways. And if you haven’t figured it out, I could easily be, like, theprinceof sideways. I need to find this watch and get out. And the elf said it should be easy to track down.
There’s no obvious magic in sight, so I move to the darkest corner of the foyer, take a deep breath, close my eyes, extend my mind, and try tofeelif there’s any magic around me. Other than the scary door, there’s nothing else on this floor. Nothing special under the hardwood beneath my feet. Nothing in the side rooms. Nothing on the stairs. Nothing up?—
Then, I see it. Like a beacon in my brain. Usually, I don’t get visuals when it comes to magic, I justsensewhatever is around. But this flares up in my awareness like a point so bright, it almost hurts to think about. And its taste— Well, I actually have no idea what it tastes like! All I’m getting is pure, cold power. It’s like crunching down on unflavored ice, brain-freeze and all. Even working with Ms. Stryker, who owns some pretty badass toys, I’ve never encountered anything so strong.
This has to be what the elf is looking for. And it’s in one of the rooms upstairs. Muchfartherinto the big creepy house.
Yay.
I slowly make my way on tiptoes up the staircase, afraid of creaking a floorboard and alerting… I don’t know what. Another automatic door? Ghosts? Flying monkeys? There really doesn’t seem to be anyone here. And it doesn’teven matter, because the old wood underneath the blue velvet carpet whines and moans regardless of where I step. It looks like I’ll just have to suck it up and accept that I’m going to make noise no matter what I do.
I just need to get this thing and go.
I turn right at the top of the stairs and make my way to the room that’s all the way down at the end of the empty hallway. There’s more of that faded flower wallpaper along the walls. Doorways to vacant rooms that feel like gaping mouths. The intricate baseboards are chipped and covered in a thin layer of dust.
Like the rest of the hallway, the door ahead of me is also open, but unlike everywhere else, this room is fully furnished. I’m immediately faced with a large gray steel desk. A big gamer-style recliner is shoved to the side. Bookshelves are loaded with dozens of leather-bound books, with a few more spread out on the floor. In the far corner of the room is a closet with another wide-open door. It’s completely empty except for one thing—embedded into the floor of that closet is a safe.
That’swhere the bright magic is coming from.
The safe door itself is about a foot and a half by two feet. Polished burgundy metal with intricate scrollwork. In one corner, the word “Diebold” is engraved. In the center of the safe’s lid is an emblem—yet another serpent, but unlike the one on the front door, this one is gilded in gold leaf. And just like the door knocker, this barrier also has protective magic. Part of the reason I didn’t sense it before is that it’s eclipsed by whatever powerful artifact the safe contains. But the big reason is because the door itself has been torn wide open by God knows what. It’s actuallyresting on its side against an inner wall of the closet. Whatever job that spell was supposed to do, it failed, and there are only sputtering remnants left.
I’d be worried that someone else got here first, but that bright point of light is still blaring out from just over the lip.
I cautiously peer over the side into the well of the safe to find the inside completely bare—except for an old-fashioned silver pocket watch resting dead center. It’s latched shut. No chain. But in terms of magic, it blazes like a small, cold sun.
Bingo.
Okay. Time to be smart about this. The thing is clearly crazy powerful, so there’s no way I’m going to touch it with my bare hand. I go and tear a page from one of the random books on the floor—it’s written in a language I don’t understand, even the alphabet is weird, but there’s no magic—and then gingerly pick up the watch with it.
I give the artifact, resting in the crumpled paper, a quick look over. Engraved in gold on its front is a tree with a thick trunk and an expansive canopy of highly rendered leaves. Surrounding the tree, along the edges, is an intricate design of raised, interwoven silver lines and loops that looked vaguely familiar to me but I can’t exactly place. Even through the page, I can feel some kind of pull, like it wants me to learn all its secrets.
Like I could stare at it for hours.
…
Okay! Yep,that’sdangerous!
I shake off the bizarre compulsion, wrap the watch up in the torn page as best I can, shove it into the back pocketof my jeans, and turn for the door, ready to book it out of there.
It. Is. Time. To. Go!
Then two things happen.
The bright, blaring magic that hurt my brain collapses to the barest whisper.
And I hear a voice. Small, dry, and raspy.
“Please… Pleasestop… I’ll tell you what you want to know… Just please… No more… No more…”
It’s someone sobbing. Someonein the room. It’s coming from behind the desk.
I freeze, still halfway in the corner alcove, kneeling in front of the safe.
Crap!There couldn’t be anyone else here! I checked!
(DidI check? I think I checked!Crap!)
As slow as I can, trying to make zero noise, I peer around the open door of the closet and behind the desk. And there, sprawled prone on the floor, is a young man, close to my age, tears streaming down his face.
