Casting At the Darkness
"Looking for something?" says a deep voice behind you. There's a metallic click.
You freeze as you glance back and spot a figure in the shadows. It's more of an alley you've blundered into, and the street ahead is quiet and dim. And then, you run and shout.
Something whizzes past your ear and you stumble on a box. He's chasing you. You crash muzzle-first onto dirty pavement and the mugger is right there. With a yelp you flip around, trying to hit him, afraid of what he'll do to you...
Something explodes. There's a roar that lights up the alley and flings you back with your fur on fire. You hit your head and spend the next minute frantically swatting out the flame. Then you're crouched in the alley, clutching your skull while the scent of your own scorched fur hits you. Your attacker is on fire and he's not moving. The smell is terrible. You grab a filthy blanket from the alley and beat the thing against him until he's not burning. Then you run away, hardly able to see through tears in your eyes, until you find what you think is a policeman.
#
A little while later, you're sitting in an underground room. There's a lady fussing over you, draping a blanket over your shoulders. A man brings you a hot drink and says, "Tell us again. What happened, ma'am?"
You can hardly think straight. It was awful -- and you shudder, knowing it could've been a lot worse. You tell the cops everything that happened since you left the theater.
The two of them exchange a look. "It would explain the burns," the man says.
The woman curses. She covers her muzzle and goes back to reassuring you. "Let's keep the fire part between us, okay?"
"Can't hide it," says the man. "Ma'am, I think I know the answer, but I take it you're not already a known magic user?"
You look up at him. "Magic?"
"Didn't think so. People who've got the talent tend not to find it until they're under a lot of stress. So you hear sometimes about a suspicious fire, or someone getting melted out of an avalanche."
"And then the Fens come," the woman adds.
You shake your head. "I don't know anything about magic!" But then it occurs to you that you've had intimate experience with it, back in the costume place. You're not sure whether to add that detail.
The male cop says, "You didn't, yeah. So that puts us in a bind. We're required to report sightings of magical talent so that these people can get trained and employed for the good of society. Supposedly. I take it you've heard of the Fens' mage corps." He sees your blank expression. "No? Let's just say you'd be a second-class member of that, and get to help spread the Teachings by force."
What happened to the happy fun harmless world of fox people?
The cop turns to his partner. "Are you with me on this?" She nods and he looks relieved. To you he says, "There was some grease and a fuel can in that alley, and we're going to say we found that idiot robber with a lighter. It's better than having one of our people drafted. For your part, you need to keep quiet about what you did. It won't go well for you if your talent becomes well-known."
You feel dizzy just sitting there. "Did I kill him?" you say. It's a stupid sappy thing to worry about, but still. And you'd like to stop weeping.
"He'll live. And if he knows what's good for him, he'll go with our story. We'll need you to sign a testimony about" -- he coughs -- "what really happened."
You nod and let the two of them comfort you for a while. You'd been hoping for a good night's sleep...
The woman says, "If you'd like, I can send Officer Ren to patrol past your house for the next few nights."
"Me?" says the guy. "I think she'd be more comfortable with you than with some strange man prowling by."
You say, "It's okay. I just want to lock myself in my house for the night and forget about this." Not that you're likely to sleep.
"Okay. We'll take you home then. Oh, wait, my boss has the keys..."
The female officer tosses a keychain at him. "Just fill it up when you're done."
The police have something like a motorcycle. Officer Ren gets you into the sidecar, then speeds off from the underground police station through the quiet streets. It's the closest thing you've seen yet to a car. From the growl of the engine and the subsonic rumble you can feel at the intersections, you don't blame him for taking the scenic route. You end up back at your house with windblown fur and a grin on your muzzle.
"Good night, ma'am," says the policeman. He tilts his head. "Has anyone told you, you look a lot like Lenara Vale?"
You thank him and head inside alone, but you don't manage to sleep much.
Written by Snow on 30 May 2010
