Page 22 of No Charm Done
Excellent. Stranded in the middle of history’s least convenient blackout. Clearly not my idea of a good time.
Okay, think. I need to get out of here. Maybe portal to Oak Haven? No chance of bumping into myself, as I haven’t been born yet . . . But Louise is eternal; she’ll probably be around. If anybody can get me back to the twenty-first century, it’s got to be the time witch.
She closed her eyes and began to focus on the familiar image of Louise Demain’s clock shop. She began the portal incantation, weaving together the combination of intent and will that had carried her across continents with ease, hundreds of times before. But casting a spell felt like trying to run through honey. Instead of a nice crisp portal, words appeared in the air, glowing neon against the darkness:
BAD REQUEST—MAGIC ANOMALY DETECTED—PLEASE STAND BY
The half-formed portal collapsed, leaving her alone on the dark street.
“What the hell?” In all her years of traveling, Luna never seen anything like that. Magic didn’t leave error messages.
Sudden shouts erupted from back inside Tompkins Square Park. This wasn’t the general chaos of a blackout; this was something more urgent. A familiar voice.
“What the Sam Hill . . . ?! Unhand me, you ruffians!”
Luna sighed. Oh for crying out loud, Shaw . . .
Her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that she could make out shapes moving not far away. Three figures had cornered a fourth against a sizeable oak tree. Even in the dim light, she could see the victim’s wool suit.
She’d traveled halfway around the world to rescue this ridiculous character from an interdimensional prison, and now he was getting mugged by a couple of kids? Her first instinct was to let him handle it himself. After all, wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of powerful magician? Some Roaring Twenties tough guy?
But even as she had the thought, her feet were already moving to his aid.
The park was a patchwork of shadows and dim shapes. The air smelled of damp earth and something less pleasant—probably from the overflowing trash cans that hadn’t been emptied in far too long.
“Look, gentlemen,” she heard Elias saying in that smooth, confident voice of his, “I’m sure we can reach some sort of arrangement—”
“Shut up and hand it over!”
One of the muggers shoved Elias hard against the tree trunk, and Luna heard him grunt in pain. That decided it.
She’d learned a particular illusion from a group of Māori witches in New Zealand—a technique for creating phantom sounds and lights. Luna began the spell, and her illusion materialized about half a block away—the sound of a police siren growing rapidly closer, accompanied by strobing red and blue.
“Shit!” one of the muggers yelped. “Cops!”
“How are there cops here already?”
“Who cares, man, let’s go!”
Luna heard the sound of sneakers pounding across the grass as the teenagers fled. She let the illusion continue for another few seconds, then allowed it to fade. The park fell back into darkness.
She found Elias pacing around the tree, one hand pressed to his ribs.
“Well,” she said, stepping out of the shadows, “that was pathetic.”
Elias straightened up, trying to regain his composure. “I had everything under control.”
“Oh, sure. You wanted to get shaken down by a bunch of kids.”
“They caught me flat-footed, is all. I was attempting to cast a simple confusion charm when . . .” He paused, frowning. “My magic isn’t working. It felt like I was grabbing at smoke.” He looked at her with new interest. “That was you with the police car, wasn’t it? Clever. Though I’d have preferred you to portal them away to somewhere unpleasant.”
“Well, I tried to portal myself out of here a few minutes ago,” Luna admitted. “And I got some kind of . . . I don’t know, like an error message.”
“Message?”
“Yeah. Like from a computer.” Luna paused, realizing he’d have no idea what she was talking about. “Like a, um . . . sort of a thinking machine. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“A thinking machine?” He looked completely lost. “What in God’s name is a thinking machine?”
