I stared at the phone. “Well, it looks like I have to pay a visit to Clarence after all. And let’s hope that he’s willing to help us.”
Chapter Eleven
I played with my phone. I needed to contact Clarence, but I was afraid. I wasn’t sure why, except that the Covenant of Chaos was a dangerous organization and I wanted to stay as far away from them as I could. But they were pervasive here in Moonshadow Bay, and one of these days I’d run up against them.
“You want me to talk to him?” Hank asked.
I flashed him a rueful smile. “My nervousness shows that much?”
“Kind of,” he said, then stood to stretch.
I had to admit, the man was built. Burly, bald, and beautiful in a badass way. He was strong as an ox, and he had the power to bilocate and move around on the astral plane. His magic was grounded in the cerebral realm, and he was fairly advanced, from what I could see.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever met one of the chaos magicians,” I said.
“You already know one,” he said. “I never joined the Covenant, but I worked with chaos magic for years before I settled down to specialize in bilocation and astral work.”
“You? I didn’t know that.”
Hank leaned forward. “Rowan’s right in that the Covenant of Chaos is a dangerous group—but they aren’t out to overthrow Moonshadow Bay, and they aren’t out to destroy the world. They just work with energies that most of us with better sense feel are best left alone. Chaos is a heady power. In some ways, it’s stronger than order, just like water is stronger than earth. Water can carve channels through solid ground. Chaos can fracture order in the same way—it’s nebulous, without form.”
I stared at him, shocked to hear that he had worked with chaos magic. “Why didn’t you join them? What made you turn away?”
Hank glanced over at Tad, who nodded. “I ran into some trouble about ten years ago. I thought I was the cause of an abandoned building collapsing on the outside of town. I didn’t realize there were two teens hiding out in it. One of them made it out. The other…” He paused, and for the first time since I’d met him, Hank looked about ready to cry.
“Oh my gods, what happened?” I couldn’t imagine Hank, as rough as he might seem on the outside, being so careless.
“There was very little to link me to the incident, except that I had been practicing chaos magic in the area and I’d done my best to bring that building down. And I thought that my magic had done the trick. I was proud as a peacock, until I found out there had been two teens inside. When I realized that one of them died, it tore me to pieces.”
I ducked my head. The pain was evident on his face, and I could feel his anger pouring out of him—he was angry at himself. “What happened?”
“I was going to turn myself in when the news arrived that inspectors discovered that the supporting beam system of the building had rotted away. So it was nature, not my magic that had brought that building down. But for a brief time, I truly thought I had been caused the kid’s death. I swore I’d never randomly do anything like that again. I decided to focus on a different area of magic, and I turned away before I ever could even think to join the Covenant.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I hesitated, then said, “I’m going through something like that right now, though not as bad. Nobody died in the fire Ellison set, thank gods. But…”
“But what?” Tad asked.
“As long as we’re sitting around swapping stories, let me tell you what happened last night.” I told them about Rameer and finding out about what I had wished for. “So, I feel partly to blame for the fire, though Esmara assures me it would have happened anyway. But I’ll never again perform another wishcraft ritual without being perfectly sober, and without thinking through what I want to wish for.”
“You have been sitting here all morning with a djinn hanging out at your house and you didn’t think to tell us?” Tad jumped up, staring at me. “You’ve hit gold, January!”
“I’m not giving him to you so you can get three wishes. I’m setting him free,” I said, staring at Tad, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“No, you dork. I don’t want to use him for wishes.”
“Then what?”
“January, people all over the world have wondered about djinns. We know they exist but they’re so elusive and rare that nobody’s ever been able to interview one. If you interview him, that will put you on the front page of just about every Otherkin and paranormal investigations magazine out there. Do you think he’ll talk to you?” Tad looked so excited that it was hard to say no.
I glanced over at Hank. “What do you think?”
“I think you’d better stop playing with fire,” he said, but he grinned to tell me he was joking. “Seriously, Tad makes a point. You write an article on him, get a few photos, and get someone to authenticate that he’s a real djinn and you’re going to be famous.”
“I don’t want to be famous,” I said, though I paused. I had always wanted to write an award-winning article or story. This wasn’t quite the same, but it would scratch the same itch. “You really think this is a good idea?”
“I think it’s a fantastic opportunity,” Tad said. “It would also make Conjure Ink stand out among all the other paranormal investigations agencies. Will you do it?”
“Well…if Rameer agrees, I will. But who can authenticate him as a djinn? Is there somebody in town?” I frowned, not sure exactly who had the authority to do that.
Tad glanced at Hank. “Who would we contact?”
“Professor Madison, who was my old history teacher in college. He’s still alive, though who knows how much longer he’s going to be around?” Hank brought up his contact list and shuffled through it. “Here’s his number. Professor Jamil Madison.”
I put the number into my own contact list. “What should I say when I call him?”
“That you are from Conjure Ink, that you’re writing a story on a djinn you met, and would he kindly come over to authenticate that Rameer is the real thing.” Tad danced around his desk. “Yes, yes, yes! This is going down in the record books.”
“Providing Rameer agrees. I don’t want to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to. He’s been under that pressure for thousands of years. I’m not going to add to it.” I stood. “It’s time for lunch. After we eat, I’ll call Clarence van Nostram and get that ball rolling.”
Feeling like the morning had been a little too eventful, even though we had done nothing but talk, I headed toward the outer waiting room to check on the weather.
The minute I saw the parking lot, I knew we had to move and move fast, if we wanted to make it home. “Tad, Hank! Come out here.”
They joined me as I stared out the window. That was the problem with having Wren off work—we didn’t have someone to warn us about the rain coming down so hard it looked like we would get flooded out of the parking lot, or like today, when the snow had suddenly decided to just dump all over us. In the hours between eight and noon, we had gone from a couple inches of snow to what looked close to seven inches, and the white stuff was still coming down.