12

For the life of me I couldn't see any connection other than the one “Mr. Cobb” had pointed out. Someone wanted to use it to increase their personal power. Pardon, some fucking lunatic was power-mad and somehow figured out how to remake the damn soul bottle. But the big reason is why? Just making the bottle was horrific, but no one I could imagine would just make that kind of bottle for no reason at all. It was a huge magick battery, which meant huge powerful spells.
I rubbed the nub of my little finger, where it had been torn off by Ahiah, the Nephelim. I had the last joint still but just the thought of that bottle being around made it ache badly. Okay, who knew about the bottle? I went though and tried to remember each person that had contact of knowledge of that bottle. Fawn, her team, me, Larry, Rynun, Uncle Todd, and Ahiah. I couldn't think of any others, but for that bottle to be around, someone must know of it, and of me and Fawn.
Our folks had been a full-bubble-off-level crazy, and had made of Fawn and I huge storage batteries of magic. We couldn't touch it, but it stayed with us. I don't know how much was there, but Larry said it was a LOT of magic. No one that I knew really wanted to touch it either. Magic like that draws other magic like a magnet draws iron filings. We both are a magnet for weird coincidence.
The bottle showing up after seven years was just another one of those coincidences that really weren't. Right now, the bottle concerned me most and who was casting spells on me. Both seemed very connected, and the only person that had both was “Mr.Cobb”. So the question became why did he ask me to help him and warn me about the bottle? I'd have to ask him when I found him. But with something like this I needed back up. Good, reliable, backup.

#

Dayning is that part of Halifax that grew up after the magic cam back with a huge bang almost sixty years ago now. It is mostly the non-human section. Most all of them have their own enclave here in one or more places. I came down here because I preferred a non-human partner for this. Humans like myself are good at most anything. We're nature's great generalist. But if you want a specialist species, Dayning is the place you'd come to find one.
What I wanted was smart and tough. There were a lot of races like that, Trolls were the biggest example. But I hadn't felt right about hiring trolls since Zhirk died. Call it stupid, maudlin, prejudice, or superstitious, I just never wanted to hire a troll again. There were other races beyond them. What I wanted was one who stood a chance against fae magick, and there was only one that had any kind of resistance that I knew were the Troykin.
Troykin are bad news. They have outsider blood in their veins. Most spells will just blow apart unless you prepare the spell carefully, or are hideously powerful. The other side of things is that they are affected by silver and the merest touch causes gaping wounds as their skin dissolves. Salt hurts them, and repels them but doesn't do much more than that, and a determined Troykin has been known to resist being repelled by salt on occasion.
They are also unstable, which may be due to the outsider blood. They are not quite hair-trigger on the emotions, but the next closest thing to it. It generally made them a poor choice, but considering the opposition, I was willing to have one with me, as it would make “Mr. Cobb” at least have to work at doing us in. I was more guessing he wanted something from me, otherwise why the elaborate illusion?
Too much speculation would start to hurt, so I backed off and concentrated on the problem at hand, negotiating with one of the local Troykin gangs to get my help. I parked my car and stepped out, all five foot nothing, ready to brace five six foot plus tall Troykin. I had the advantage that I was human, and a human seen this far into Dayning was generally considered crazy and/or dangerous. I figured crazy worked well.