Sacrifices for the Balance Chapter 9: Life on the Front

Percival has to deal with the cold war at home and finds a clue while Wendy does some research.

As Percival walked into his trailer, he wasn't sure whether he should be amused or worried. Nier had wasted no time in putting up the obligatory “NO ENTRANCE” sign on his door. Establishing his territory. How cute. Roderick was planted in front of the television playing GTA5, next to him was a large bottle of beer and a bowl of pepperoni ends on the table, his go-tos on a rough day. It didn't take the skills of the tribe's best investigator to figure out why.

Percival was able to divest himself of his uniform, put on a pair of sweats, slide into a T-shirt, and sneak in behind Roderick. He tried to give him a massage, but a quick glare from Roderick made him decide to cook dinner instead. As he opened up the pantry shelf, he decided on a pizza instead; he started up the oven and grabbed a couple of pizzas. He started the oven preheating, then grabbed a large cutting board, a couple of plates, and a rocker blade while he was waiting. He placed the pizzas inside the oven and grabbed a beer to nurse while waiting.

A few minutes before the pizzas were done, the smell had wafted throughout the trailer. He smiled as he heard a door open, followed by the sounds of footsteps coming to the kitchen. Nier stood before him in a T-shirt and boxers, waiting for the pizza.

Percival smiled. “Three minutes.” Nier grunted. “How's homework?”

Nier barely moved. “Going.”

He sighed. Time to assert dominance. “So, psyched to begin battle training tomorrow?” Nier’s eyes widened. I mean, you need to learn sometime, right?”

Nier gulped. “I thought that was years off?”

Percival smirked. “True training, sure.” He leaned in, whispering, “But that doesn’t mean we can’ prep you for it now.”

Nier stood a little straighter, then slouched. “Sounds good.” His wheels started turning. “This is going to involve more chores, isn’t it?”

Percival smiled. “Aw, you’re on to me.” He let the smile drop. “Next time, cross-index the homesteads out here that look nice with those that have fostered. It’s a near-perfect correlation.” Nier frowned. “Look at this way: See these noodly arms of yours?” Percival squeezed one of Nier’s biceps. “Adding muscle to your human form adds to your battle form. Chores, especially physically strenuous ones, add to your muscle mass.”

Nier cocked his head for a moment, then straightened up. “Okay. And what about wrestling and boxing?”

Percival smirked. “We can include some.” He took a step backward. “Want me to show you something right now?”

Nier smiled. “Sure.”

Percival exhaled. “Shift to battle form.” Nier closed his eyes. His muscles became thicker. Fur grew out of every pore. His ears became pointed. His feet lengthened, making his legs more wolf-like. His jaw and nose flowed into each other and grew into a muzzle, fangs replacing teeth. He added a foot. A fully-formed wolf-like humanoid opened his eyes. “Good. Now punch me as hard as you can.”

The werewolf blinked his eyes. A deep growl came from his mouth. “Sure?” Percival nodded. “Okay.” The werewolf wound up and punched. Percival straightened the arm. He then swept the werewolf’s legs. As the werewolf fell, his arm was twisted behind him. Percival pushed him to the floor. The trailer shook. “Ow.”

From the other room. Roderick shouted, “You guys okay?”

They both shouted, ”Yes!” Roderick returned to his game.

Percival pulled the werewolf’s arm a little. “That’s a basic lock. You can escape from this relatively easily, but you may dislocate your shoulder if you do it wrong.” He smiled. “But that’s a minor issue considering our healing ability.” He released the lock and helped the werewolf to his feet. “Now change back.” In a few moments, Nier returned to his human form. Percival handed the rocker blade to the boy. “Now, let’s talk weapon skills.”

They shared a smile.

* * * * *

Wendy set her coffee mug down, then piled the books next to it. She exhaled deeply as she sat in the large wooden chair. She slipped on her headphones and country music filled her ears. Guess I need to get going on this.

She opened the first book, half-expecting moths to fly from it. She started with the table of contents and opened the book to the suggested page. After skimming a few paragraphs, she glared at the book. “Suggested” was right. She decided to start looking at chapter headings, randomly skimming as she went. Eventually, she found a possibly relevant passage. As she was reading, she was hit by a wave of depression. This is going to be harder than I thought. The passage described the band around Peter’s neck perfectly, including that it was next to impossible for anyone not the original caster to remove it. Nonetheless, it did describe the relevant magicks involved, an interesting mix of enchantment, abjuration, and conjuration, as well as the history of the spell. Okay, so that’s the bad news. She closed the book and put it aside.

She went through the schools involved and what they did for the thick metal band around Peter’s throat. The conjuration part summoned the band into being, so that was pretty straightforward. The enchantment was also pretty obvious: It set up a block in the target’s mind around specific memories, sealing them off and not allowing the target to recall them. It also made other methods of recall, such as exploring the target’s mind, useless as well. The abjuration, however, was what gave the spell some bite, as it surrounded the band with protections against counterspells; unless one knew the key spell, the spell that would unlock it, counterspells would be virtually useless.

She ran her hand through her hair, then grabbed the mug. She exhaled deeply, allowing the rich smell of coffee beans to fill her sinuses. She exhaled, allowing the doubt to leave with the carbon dioxide. The spell affixes itself to the being of the target, becoming one with it. That also makes it virtually invisible to counterspells, since it looks like it belongs. She sipped from the mug, allowing herself to relax into the chair. She closed her eyes, the heat of the coffee filling her. She allowed her mind to scatter to the winds for a moment, then focused it on the passages she had just read, letting them become as chiseled rock in her memories. She could now recall the passage at will, allowing her to compare the information to whatever else she learned.

She reached for the second book, a book containing the most potent counterspells. Taught to distrust the table of contents by the previous book, she skimmed through the listed spells. She knew what she was looking for at least: She was looking for a spell that unlocked other spells. Most of the counterspells were variations on the same thing, each keyed to a specific school of magic or a select group of schools; predictably, there were few spells to dispel abjuration spells, as they were seen as mostly protective spells and thus harder to dispel by their very nature. However, she needed something that would bypass that protection, and so she looked harder.

The problem is that while she did find some possible spells that would work, they were beyond her current skill level to cast. They required a master of magic to even understand the basics behind each spell. She sighed. It would be another decade before I was even able to think about casting those spells, much less actually cast them. Dispirited, she put the book aside and sipped again from her coffee.

She reached for the third book, a trashy romantasy novel about an emo princess, the two gorgeous prospects, and a misunderstood dragon. A girl needs a break from heavy reading. She opened to her bookmark, about two-thirds of the way in, and decided she needed a chapter or two.

* * * * *

After dinner, Percival had two missions. He looked at Roderick and smiled. He cleared his throat. “Oh, Roderick, pause please.” Roderick glared at him, “Yeahyeah, but we need to talk.”

Roderick paused his game. “Can I beat him? I could do it without feeling bad.”

Percival smiled. “No doubt.” He went serious. “I know you need some help on our little ten-acre spread. You now have permission to use the boy as slave labor.”

One eyebrow went up. “Are you sure? It would mean waking him up early.”

Percival moved in closer to him. “Yep. He needs to develop character, and this will help. He thinks it’s all about the muscles, but we need to give him something to do. And a little farm work should help him all around. Just remember: He has school, and you’ll be driving there and picking him up. I’d suggest no more than five days and two hours before and two hours after.”

Roderick nodded and allowed Percival closer. “Fair enough.” He smiled. “This was what that crash I heard earlier was all about?” Percival smiled. “Okay. So we have a temporary truce.” Percival hugged him as he returned to his game.

After an hour or so of watching Roderick play, Percival retired to their room. He turned his laptop on and started looking at the locations of the murders that they knew about. Percival looked for any obvious patterns, and didn’t see anything obvious. But these were ritual murders. He then compared them to known centers of power, places where ley lines looped and the river of magic stilled enough to become deep pools: Places that would be ideal for casting rituals. Oh, this isn’t good.

Each murder cleanly fit a center of power. Each one. Worse, they followed the same ley line: One that wrapped around the city limits of Elspeth. He rubbed his face. Sheriff Anne is not going to be happy.

[The last chapter can be found here.]