Sentinel: A Light Mage Wars Novella (The Light Mage Wars) (4 page)

Mindy put the card in Caro
's hand. Moving her thumb over it, sensing the colors, Caro found the maroon numbers on a white background.

Here goes nothing.

#

Rick ducked under his sparring partner's slashing blade. Dropping to the mat, he swept Jason Greene's legs out from under him.

Jason
grunted as he landed hard. The silvery aura around him, his magical shielding, wavered.

Yes!
Rick funneled magic through his broadsword and zapped Jason in the right shoulder. The spell on the blade, like the one on Jason's, reduced the power to a mild sting rather than a dangerous blast.

"
Time." Their instructor, burly former deputy reeve Larry Monroe, stepped onto the mat. "Sorry, guys, but my Self Defense for Women class is due in fifteen minutes. Since most of them are Mundanes, I need to clear away all the special gear."

"
Right," Rick said. "Thanks, Larry."

Rick and Jason rolled to their feet
. Facing each other, they raised the swords straight up in front of them and bowed, saluting each other, before stepping off the mats.

Twice a month, Rick met Jason in
Atlanta or Jason drove to Macon so they could spar together. Rick had first honed his magical combat skills so he could protect his mother and sister if the need arose, then had kept them up because investigative reporters hung out in seedy parts of town and often made enemies. These days, though, he worked out because he enjoyed it and it kept him in shape.

"
How are you doing with that Dare story?" Jason asked as they walked into the locker room. He shoved his longish, dark brown hair out of his face. "Any news on that plan to embed with deputy reeves for a raid on a ghoul nest?"

"
Not so far," Rick replied. At Rick's request, Stan had agreed to slot Jason in as the photographer if the embed was approved. Rick wanted someone he could trust at his side in case they landed in a tight spot. "If it comes through, we're going to be glad we kept in practice." 

Ghouls
lived in rural areas, in small clusters they called nests. There they kept Mundane and mage prisoners for breeding purposes and animals for fresh meat. Wiping out those nests was an essential part of protecting both Mundanes and the mageborn, but it was dangerous work.

"
We may be extra glad," Jason said, "if ghouls are around Macon now. Today's MageWire reports that they grabbed some Mundane guy who was driving by, out near Bond Swamp."

"
Well, shit. Let's hope the deputies catch them soon."

Rick shrugged
out of his tunic, or
gi.
"As for the story, reading Jim's notes made me remember things that I'd forgotten, some that seemed odd at the time."

"
Like what? Spill."

Rick
shrugged into a blue t-shirt. "You know Jim never stopped with the usual reports that were public record. This time, he also interviewed Dare's former teachers, mage and Mundane, and his captain on the Savannah PD. His criminal justice professors at the University of Georgia. His former art instructors and his martial arts sensei."

Jason
's head emerged from his long-sleeved, gray t-shirt. "Interviewing Mundanes must've been tricky."

"
Yeah." Rick sat down to put on his shoes. "Jim told them he was doing a feature on a promising young artist."

"
So what's bugging you about it?"

T
hey stowed their practice swords in their oversize gym bags to hide them from any Mundanes they might encounter, then headed outside.

On the sidewalk, Rick glanced around to
be sure no one could overhear. "Things don't add up. Given Griffin Dare's brains, canniness, artistic gifts, and athleticism, it's fair to describe him as a Renaissance man. Before he became shire reeve, he had a stellar record as a Savannah PD rookie."

Jason raised his eyebrows.
"And?"

"
A guy that smart had to know walking into the Council chamber and blowing away the Chief Councilor would buy him a world of hurt. That argues for a compelling motive."

"
Also makes you wonder," Jason put in. "Did Dare really believe Chief Councilor Milt Althor was in league with ghouls and had sent the deputy reeves into a trap? Or was that an excuse, per the official position?"

"
You've been reading up." Rick grinned at his friend.

Jason shrugged.
"Figured you might need a photog at some point. So are you thinking Dare got a bum deal? Being tried and sentenced to death in his absence would qualify." 

"
Especially if he was right." Rick shrugged. "I don't know what I think yet."

"
That trial and sentence were flagrant deviations from normal mage legal procedures."

"
Yeah, but even if Dare was right, that doesn't excuse his methods. Or the deaths of the people he killed in the wake of that rash action. Or make it okay for anyone to shelter him."

"
It's a puzzle," Jason agreed. "I gotta go. I'm due to cover an Atlanta Mage Education Consortium fundraiser–a combo bake sale and consignment." With a grimace, he added, "Lots of shots of busy moms and shoppers. The fun just never ends."

"
Yeah." Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't eat too many cupcakes, or I'll kick your ass next time, too."

"
Dream on, wiseass."

Jason headed for his car, and Rick started home, walking down Plum Street and enjoying the bright, beautiful morning.

There was definitely a story to be written about Dare. But could Rick get it? How much did Caroline know?

And as much as Jim Todd knew,
why had he backed off?

Rick
dug his phone out of his pocket and called Todd. Pedestrian traffic was light, so he could safely talk if he avoided specifics.

The retired reporter answered on the third ring.
"You've read the Dare file."

"
Twice. You were thorough." Rick waited a few seconds, then continued, "Why didn't you write this story, Jim? Even without all the answers, it would be a helluva piece."

After a moment, Jim said,
"Keep digging. Once you figure it out, we'll talk."

Jim disconnected.

What the hell?
Rick scowled at his phone. This story posed enough of a challenge without his supposed resource going cryptic.

He let himself into his apartment building and climbed the single flight of stairs to his place.
There were other items than the Dare story on his agenda. He needed to do some work on the latest Max Grant adventure this morning. With Max in The Shade's deathtrap and no way out coming to his creator's mind, Rick had written himself into a corner.

Before taking care of Max, though, he
'd email Caroline those questions, maybe see if he could coax her into dinner or coffee–

Boodleoop-boodleoop
from his phone signaled an unknown caller. Probably some credit card scam, but he accepted the call. "Hello."

"
This is Caroline Dare. Is that you, Rick?"

His pulse kicked
. "Caro, how are you?"

"
I've had better days, thanks. Have you seen the
Arts Weekly
site this morning?"

"
No. Hang on."

She sounded strained.
Had she been panned?

Rick
grabbed his laptop and typed in the URL. The page loaded, revealing the headline, "'Brilliant Melding of Art and Music
.
'"
That didn't sound bad.

"
I'm on the site," he said. "Reading it now."

He skimmed rapidly.
...
beautiful work...not credible...no shame in admitting she had help...an unknown couldn't obtain a show at such a prestigious gallery...parental coattails.

No wonder Caro
's voice held such tension.

"
It sucks," he said into the phone.

"
Because it's a lie." Now he caught the crackle of anger under her words. Because she felt entitled to deference? There was some truth to the coattails charge.

S
he continued, "I want you to help me prove him wrong."

Not only was she talented and beautiful, but she wasn
't inclined to duck a fight. Nor did she seem to think she was above having to prove herself. Story or no story, he liked this woman. He just couldn't let that dent his objectivity.

"
I'm happy to," he said, "and I have an idea. Sounds as though you do, too. What do you have in mind?"

"
A demonstration. In public. Maybe with school art teachers. Or gallery owners. Belinda Parkhurst could help set that up." She paused before adding, "I'd like to get Burton McCree there and show that smug bas–show him how wrong he is."

Rick grinned at what Caro hadn
't called McCree. "That was my thought, too. You know, the Parkhurst Gallery's reputation should've been a clue for McCree about your abilities."

Caro blew out a gusty sigh.
"It might've been, except she shows my mom's work all the time. Honestly, I can't complain about the charge that I had an in to get my show at Belinda's. I did. I just thought...I expected my work to be judged on its own merits."

"
Most people did judge it that way."

"
I hope so."

Her candor about the big break she
'd gotten with that show was surprising, and the hint of doubt in her voice tore at his heart. She was proving to be a far cry from the spoiled, pampered, rich girl Stan had described.

T
hat didn't mean she was clear where her fugitive brother was concerned, though. And she'd given Rick a perfect opening. "Have coffee with me," he said, "and let's make plans."

Chapter Four

Caro
didn't reply immediately, so Rick hurried to clarify. "I said I'd help, and I will, regardless. But I'd also like to have coffee with you."

A long pa
use, and then she said, "Okay. Where and when?"

"
I've written my hero into a corner and could use a break, so the sooner, the better. You pick the place."

"
How about Java Joe's on Cherry Street? At ten?"

"
That's great." That was just over an hour from now, and the place was close enough to be an easy walk. "See you then."

They disconnected.
Unloading his gym bag, Rick found himself whistling. He broke off abruptly. This was just coffee. Even if it did offer the chance to win Caro's trust. That was still a long way from getting her to open up about her brother.

Besides,
there was no denying she'd easily stepped into the kind of slot other artists struggled for years without obtaining.

But
the slam against her work, delivered without a proper investigation, was an injustice. Not as severe as the one Dad had suffered, sure, but potentially damning for her career hopes.

Rick shower
ed quickly, donned clean khakis and a blue Oxford cloth shirt, and headed out. A light breeze cooled the bright April day, and the sounds of construction from a three-story office building undergoing conversion to lofts added a cheerful, purposeful note.

Caro had probably checked on him, but all she would find were the various PR pieces and features he
'd written under his own name. The "Furthermore" column, like his hard news and investigative pieces, appeared with his pseudonym, Bradley Richardson, his first and middle names. That was a common practice among mage reporters. Investigating people who could find you simply by scrying, if they knew your real name, warranted extra caution.

A few minutes later, he
stepped under the coffee shop's bright yellow awning and walked inside. The bell over the door jingled, earning a wave from the owner barista, a retired chemistry teacher named Joe.

"
Whatcha need, Rick?"

"
I'm waiting for someone, thanks." Rick flashed a grin at the older man.

This was one of his favorite afternoon writing places.
Odd that he hadn't seen Caro here if she knew the place well, but maybe she was a morning coffee person.

Along with the rich aroma in the air, the
room's exposed brick walls, beamed ceiling, and low lights made it a great place to talk...if you could see those things.

Ruefully, he shook his head.
Caro wouldn't care about any of that. She probably liked the place because it was quiet, maybe even near her home.

Young people who looked about college age
, maybe students from Mercer, occupied half a dozen of the fifteen tables. Rick chose a vacant one by the window, far enough away from anyone else to allow private conversation. The indirect sunlight cast a soft glow that warmed the varnished wooden tabletop. Caro might not be able to see it, but she would certainly feel it.

Closing his eyes, he let the light wash over him and absorbed its energy for a quick recharge.
He needed to be on top of his game to make headway with her. Any form of natural energy would do to top off his power, but sunlight was the easiest to tap.

The bell over the door jingled.
He opened his eyes in time to see Caro step inside with a white, sectional cane in her hand. Sunlight glinted off the long, jet-black fall of her hair and silhouetted her trim curves, today garbed in knee-length, khaki shorts and a pink t-shirt. Those legs of hers were toned and gorgeous and long enough to wrap around a guy's waist.

His groin tightened, and he bit back a curse.
This was about finding the truth, not getting laid.

"
Caro." He stood and walked to her. "I took a table by the window. Okay?"

"
Sure. Yes." Though she spoke with friendly warmth, she almost vibrated with tension. He could see it in the stiff lines of her neck and shoulders.

Was that because of McCree
's column, or had something happened on her way here?

Or maybe meeting him had her on edge.
What had her experiences been with journalists to make her so wary?

"
It's just over here," he said, "the second one in."

She
touched her cane's tip to the floor in front of her, adroitly sliding its rounded end from side to side. It brushed the tables to her right and left, and she easily steered a path between them.

Learning to do that must
've taken a long time and a lot of practice.

She stopped between the second pair of tables.
"Left or right?"

"
On your right. What would you like to drink?"

She turned her face toward him, her expression cool.
"I can get my coffee, thanks."

"
I invited you. On top of that, I think you're getting a raw deal, so I'd like to buy."

After a moment, she nodded.
"Small mocha latte. Thanks."

Caro shifted her leg sidewa
ys until it touched the chair. As she reached cautiously for the back, Rick said, "I got it."

"
I need to touch it," she said lightly. "To orient myself."

"
Right. Sorry." The courtesy had been instinctive, but he should've thought.

With a sli
ght smile, she said, "No need. How could you know?"

Her
calm tone eased his embarrassment. She pulled the chair back. Laying her other hand on the table, she stepped between and sat.

"
May I slide it up for you?"

"
Yes, thanks."

As smoothly as though they
'd done this before, he pushed the chair in as she hitched forward. A whiff of rose scent wafted from her hair. His fingers itched to stroke that silken waterfall, but that would be way out of line.

Instead, he said,
"I'll be right back."

Because the shop wasn
't busy, filling their order took only a couple of minutes. Rick dropped into the chair opposite Caro. "Coffee at three o'clock, beside your hand." He'd read somewhere that clock references helped blind people orient.

"
Thanks." She wrapped her hands around the cup.

"
So how were you thinking of doing your demonstration?" he asked.

Caro hesitated.
With a slight frown, she said, "Before we get into that, we need to be clear on something. I'm grateful for your help, and I expect to pay you for any time you put in beyond your original story. For that article, I'll answer the questions you emailed me. But I won't address any follow-ups that tread on personal ground. So if that's what you're hoping, you need to know before you commit that it won't happen."

Maybe she was extraordinarily perceptive, but it was more likely she or her parents had dealt with reporters trying to sucker them in with seemingly neutral topics.

Exactly like you
're doing, dude.

Yeah.
He'd just have to be better at it than the others. At least he planned to write a fair, truthful story.

In any event, he could honestly reply,
"I didn't plan to send you any follow-ups about anything except your work. Working with you on this will make my story better, so I don't need payment for any time I put in."

"
Okay." She blew out a breath. The tension in her shoulders finally relaxed. "Thanks. Sorry if that was rude. I know I must seem suspicious, but–"

"
I imagine you've had cause to be."

Caro shrugged
, and he said, "Before we dive in, clear something up for me. Your parents probably know people who know people. Why not just have them get a retraction?"

"
Because other people probably wonder about what McCree flat-out claimed. Even more important, though, is the fact that this is my career. My work. My future. So I need to handle this myself."

Wow.
Not what he'd expected. In his experience, most people with connections like hers uniformly coasted on them. Aside from getting the showing itself, she was refusing to pull strings to get what she wanted.

Rick cleared his throat.
"Tell me how you do the weaving. Do you have a magical color sense or do you actually see the colors?"

"
I can magically recognize color by touch, even gradations of color. As I'm weaving, it's like I have a map in my head of what colors I've put where. If I need to check, I run my hand over the work to refresh the image."

"
Like a photographic memory."

"
If it's fair to say that about something I can't see."

"
You seem to see it just fine, only without using your eyes. So what did you have in mind?"

"
I'd like to host a number of art critics. Belinda's gallery is prominent enough that she can get them there. I'll weave part of a pattern in front of them. I'll have to hold it close to my face and pretend to see it with my eyes, but that's easy enough."

"
Are you going to set up your loom?"

Caro shook her head.
"It's too big to move easily. I started out on those square metal frames that come in kids' potholder kits and graduated to small, simple frame looms. I think we still have one of those frame ones somewhere."

"
So how are you going to come up with a design? Let the audience pick?"

"
I'll have three or four designs prepared, simple ones using several colors each. Burton McCree can choose one out of a hat. There won't be time to do an entire picture, but I'll lay in a couple of inches, enough to prove I can."

"
I know a great photographer. He can shoot a video for your website. We'll document the whole thing."

"
That's a terrific idea! I'll pay for that, of course." Her eyes narrowed, and the fierce look on her face stirred his blood. There was passion under that calm exterior.

"
I'll weave it while they watch," she stated. "Then I dare any of them to say my work isn't mine."

Rick grinned.
"Give 'em hell, Sunshine."

"
Sunshine?" Frowning, she cocked her head.

"
Looking at your work makes me feel like I'm standing in sunshine."

"
Oh." A slow smile spread over her face. "That's nice."

"
I meant it." His face heated now. At least she couldn't see it. He should move on, keep this light, but that smile of hers twisted his insides.

"
Let me take your mind off this," Rick offered.

Caro
's smile faded. The wary look tightened her expression again.

The more time they spent together, the more likely she was to open up to him.
Besides, she was beautiful and talented and gutsy. No harm in enjoying her company while he was getting to know her. And if she happened to be open to a little light flirtation, as her pretty blush last night suggested, so much the better.

"
I'm going out to the Ocmulgee mounds today," he improvised, "and walk the nature trail." The Ocmulgee National Monument featured not only giant earthwork mounds built by the Mississippian culture a millennium ago but wide, well maintained paths through the forest. "Come with me and think about something other than this asshole critic."

She deserved a distraction.
It would also let him learn more about her, maybe pick up some info on her family, and show her he was a decent guy. Trustworthy.

Her
facial expression turned entirely neutral, but she froze with the cup halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she said, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"
But better than sitting around worrying about how this turns out." Her wrinkled nose told him he was on target. Encouraged, he added, "Set things in motion and then go for a walk in the woods and forget about it a while."