Page 87 of Wraith's Revenge

“From what I saw in the brief time I was in the reservation, I very much doubt that.”

I laughed and climbed out of the car. As Samuel disappeared down the small lane between the buildings, I walked over to the front entrance. The door was locked, so I cupped a hand against the glass and peered inside. While shadows crowded the room, enough light filtered in through the tinted windows to see. An old wooden counter lay to the left, while the free-standing shelving units I’d seen in the vision dominated the remaining space. Toward the back of the room lay stairs up to the next floor, and to the right of these was a door. Given this room was only a fraction of the building’s overall size, it was a fair bet his practice and storage areas lay beyond it.

I couldn’t see any evidence of protection spells, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist or that there weren’t physical alarms installed. Especially when the lock on the door looked as old as the building itself. Even the dodgiest human thief could probably have had it open in seconds.

I looked around to ensure no one was paying me any undue attention, then quickly cast an unlock spell and pressed it against the handle. The door clicked open, but I didn’t step inside, checking again for security measures. Most casters who kept charms and potions so openly on display usually had some means of not only preventing theft but also accidental activation.

I didn’t spot anything obvious, so I warily stepped inside. No alarms went off, magical or mechanical. I closed and locked the door, then moved across to the counter. The air smelled musty, no doubt due to the fact there didn’t appear to be much in the way of ventilation, and tiny dust devils stirred around my boots. This shop obviously hadn’t seen much traffic in recent weeks. Either that, or the old man really hated dusting.

I moved behind the counter and did a quick search through the various shelves and drawers that lined the wall, finding the usual variety of charms, potions, and other minor magic memorabilia these sorts of shops usually sold. Hell, we stocked many of the same ones in our café, even though it wasn’t a main part of our business.

What I didn’t find was anything in the way of gray magic, but that was hardly surprising. He wouldn’t risk keeping such items openly on display or even close to hand. Not when he was dealing with the public and had no idea who might walk through his door next.

I turned to check under the counter and discovered, tucked in the back corner of the top shelf, a black metal box. I glanced up sharply and finally saw the camera. It was attached to the ceiling just above the end of the shelving unit and was pointed directly at the old till. Obviously, the old man had been more worried about losing cash than losing stock.

The door at the back of the room opened and Samuel stepped though. “Found several spell rooms and a storeroom with an interesting—and illegal—array of items. No sign of our caster yet though. You had any luck?”

“I haven’t checked upstairs, but I did find a DVR security system.”

“Ah good. We’ll requisition the drive and see what we can find.”

“If it hasn’t already been erased.”

Our wraith—or whoever he had doing his leg work for him—constantly seemed to be two steps ahead of us, so it was more than possible that might be the case.

“Yes, but depending on the drive being used, we still should be able to recover the files and information. But just to be safe, we’ll make sure there’s no interference from this point on.”

He pulled the plug out of the power point, then cast a quick spell to protect the unit from external interference. With that done, we walked across the room and headed up the stairs. As the scent of age and dust faded, the smell of “old man” increased.

But again, I had no sense of any kind of protection spell, which was decidedly odd for someone who walked the grayer side of magic.

Samuel reached the landing then paused. “We’ve a bathroom directly ahead and two doors, left and right. You got a preference?”

“You’re the official in this investigation. You choose.”

“Why is it you only acknowledge my authority when it suits you?”

I grinned. “My werewolf has asked the very same question.”

He snorted and went left. I went right, walking down the short corridor to the closed door. After checking for any sort of spell work, I carefully opened it.

And found the old man still and silent in his chair.

My heart rate leapt even though this was exactly what I’d seen. But despite initial appearances, he wasn’t dead, because his chest moved fractionally even as I watched. One breath didn’t mean anything, of course. One breath, or two, or more, didn’t mean his mind or memories were whole.

I visually checked the room again to reassure it was safe to enter, then walked across. The old man breathed through his nose, the sound wispy and quiet. I gently touched his arm, but there was no response. Either he slept really soundly, or he’d taken something to help him sleep, either by choice or not.

I stepped back and reached for Belle. You there?

Well, of course I am. What a stupid question.

I smiled. Sorry, but with the frequency Monty has been calling these last few days, anything was possible.

There must be more problems in the reservation, because he’s only made one call so far today. Besides, keeping connected to you and updating Ashworth was the only way to ensure he stayed put.

I frowned. Ashworth knows better than to rush into a situation like this.

Except he hasn’t been in a situation like this before, she replied. This is the first time he’s been forced to sit on the sidelines when someone he cares about has faced any sort of danger, and he hates it, even if he understands the reasons.

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