Chapter 14 #2
Des immediately checked their vital signs but found no breath or heartbeat.
Mal entered cautiously after her; his head still throbbed and he could feel adrenaline rising up within him.
Hala and Yu looked on from the landing; Yu seemed calm but Hala looked as though she might lose her lunch.
Mal realized, in unison with Des, that whoever had plunged that knife into Erik must still be in the apartment.
It certainly wasn’t done by the pair with burnt eyes.
Des barged through the door on the right and searched the rest of the apartment while Mal stayed put.
She came back a moment later empty-handed.
“I’ve called the cops,” Des said.
“How long do you think they’ll be?” said Mal, watching where he stepped.
“I told them I’ve got control of the scene so probably twenty minutes.”
“What do we do until then?” Yu said, poking their head in.
“Take a look around,” Des said. “We’re not gonna be allowed back in once they get here.”
“They’ve got to be close,” Mal said.
“Who?” said Hala, concerned.
“Whoever did this to Erik.” Mal mimed something going into his ear.
“Could it have been one of those two?” Hala said, pointing to the other bodies.
“They went down first. Look at the bottom of their shoes,” Des said.
“So where’s the stabber? Maybe they blinked out?” Yu said, taking a step into the room.
“Yeah, they could have warped away, I guess,” Mal said.
“Warping and blinking are different things, but I get your point,” Yu said.
“Can you sense anyone, Hala?” Des said, ushering her in. “Just make sure not to touch anything.” Des gave Mal a look as he tried to turn the lamp on; he flicked the switch several times but it refused to do anything.
“There is someone else here,” Hala said, taking steps as though the floor was about to fall out beneath her.
“Can you tell where?” Des said, suddenly on edge.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Hala said. “I need to be able to focus on them, otherwise all I get is the emotional background noise of the city.”
Mal went back over to Erik and a hideous thought came over him.
“Des,” Mal said, “should I?” He waved his hand out in front of him, over Erik.
“Yeah, best do it now.”
“What about the stabber? What if they see?” Yu said, concerned.
“Who’s gonna believe them?” Mal said, as he prepared himself.
He’d been using his powers so much recently the dread and anxiety that so often accompanied them had faded; Mal wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
He was still, however, having panic attacks; he would need to work on that if his usage kept up.
He dug deep, finding that which was not him, and embraced it.
His eyes went black with three white circles and he felt his breath quicken.
He stopped what he was doing, taking a moment to concentrate.
He took a long, slow breath in through his nose, then a long, slow breath out through his mouth.
The swaying world slowed. A long, slow breath in.
A long, slow breath out. The tingling in his hands abated. In … Out …
He waited for a moment of calm while the shadows that lapped at the edges of his skin flailed and swirled. He held his hand out over Erik’s face and began. Immediately, Erik awoke.
Searing fire shot across the room and hit the ceiling. Everyone jumped back with so much force even the lamp shade wobbled with shock.
“WHat the FuCK iS hApPENING?” Erik screamed as he leapt to his feet.
Erik held his hand out in front of him, two fingers pointing at Mal; the tips burned with a searing fire.
Mal knew the dead could still do magic—magic is in the soul—but it never crossed his mind that that magic would be aimed at him.
“ANSWER ME!” Erik screamed, the flames on his finger intensifying as he spoke.
“It’s okay, it’s all okay,” Mal said, eyes darting to the others in panic. “What do you remember last?”
“I … I … opened the bag, then purple, and I couldn’t move. Then someone came out of the bag and …” He brought his hand up to his left ear and felt the handle of the knife that had killed him. “What is this?”
“It’s a stiletto,” Yu said, “a type of medieval blade common in …” Yu trailed off. “… Italy.”
“Those Medici fucks,” Erik said, frantically looking around the room. “Where is he?”
“We don’t know,” Mal said. “Just take it easy.”
“He could be anything!” Erik screamed. He went to move his hand.
Mal couldn’t let that happen; Mal let go.
Erik hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, clattering and folding as he slammed into the woodwork.
Mal’s world swayed again beneath him, he’d been so close.
He walked over and propped himself up against a wall and tried to slow his breathing.
“That could have gone better,” Yu said, inspecting the crumpled body. “What did he say? Someone came out of the bag? Must have been a shrinker; look at that thing, it’s tiny.” Yu pointed to the money bag by the window.
“Maybe,” Hala said, “That or the guy went mad on the return trip.”
“We didn’t even find out why he was here,” Des said, frustrated.
“We can always try again later,” Mal said. “Give him a bit of time, he might be less fiery.”
“What now?” Yu said.
“We keep looking,” Des said. “There’s still a killer somewhere close and I’d prefer to find them before we have to explain to the cops what happened here.”
It took Mal a moment to understand the implication of what Des was saying; that they themselves could be implicated in this crime if they weren’t careful.
They did seem to have a bad knack for finding trouble—or looking for trouble?
Either way, where they went trouble also went, like the pair were riding a tandem bicycle.
Mal took stock of the crime scene. Erik had entered, killed the pair with the burnt eyes, gone to take the money, was hit by a magical blast that fucked up the room, then according to Erik, a man came out of the bag and killed him.
This lined up with what Mal felt with his death sense, the blasts of pain in his mind; two in quick succession, then another.
But Des had burst in just seconds later, and there had been no one else in the room.
So where had the killer gone? Had he shrunk back down and scurried away?
Mal stared at the bag of money by the window, and was struck by a question.
How did the money move after Erik died? Someone must have moved it, but who?
He looked up from the bag and saw that out the window was a metal fire escape that climbed up and down the side of the building.
Had the killer left via the fire escape?
Surely they would have heard that window opening.
And why would they leave the money? Mal stared and stared.
“He could be anything” was a very odd choice of words.
Like what, the desk? The fireplace? The lamp?
He stared at the lamp, and another question formed.
How is that lamp still standing? Everything else in the room was pushed back or knocked about, even the chairs had toppled, but somehow this thin lamp had remained upright?
He remembered how he’d tried to turn it on a moment ago, and as he looked down to see if it was plugged in, he realized something.
The lamp didn’t have a power cable. It wasn’t that the lamp wasn’t plugged in, it was that it had no wire at all.
It wasn’t a magic lamp, was it? If it was, it didn’t work.
A lamp that wouldn’t turn on and couldn’t be plugged in.
“He could be anything” rang through Mal’s mind.
Was this insane? Mal knew transfiguration existed, but accusing random objects of murder seemed like a sign of madness.
What would he tell the others? “Hey guys, I think the lamp is the murderer.” Would they laugh at him?
He knew he would laugh at someone if they’d said that.
Well, maybe not in this situation, but in general.
In basically any other situation than this one, he would most certainly laugh.
He realized now that he had been staring at the lamp for a good few minutes, and as he watched he thought he saw something.
A small, drop of water, running down the side of the lamp shade.
Was the lamp watching him watch it? Was he making the lamp nervous?
Des walked up to the lamp to try and grab Mal’s attention. Apparently, the group had been talking this whole time while Mal had zoned off staring at the lamp.
Without thinking Mal, blurted out, “GET AWAY FROM THE LAMP!”
Mal lunged forward and pulled Des away as a face appeared on the lampshade.
Arms sprouted from the thin stand, which split in two from the bottom up, turning into legs.
The strange lamp creature grabbed the bag of money in one hand and smashed the window with the other, then vaulted out onto the fire escape. Mal yelled out:
“GET THAT LAMP!”