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For a brief moment, the sky in Seattle opened up, a shy blue against the autumn haze and mist. Elliot looked up, shielding her eyes from the sudden, unexpected sunshine. From the ferry terminal on Vashon Island, the day looked bright, which was a mixed bag, frankly. Elliot liked the cold and the rain. It was moody, but also pretty in its own way. The way streetlights reflected off the streets, the way colors muted under the clouds. It was hoodie weather, and Elliot loved nothing more than hoodie weather, except maybe coffee to go with it.
Gimble had offered to open a door to wherever she wanted to go in the city, but Elliot wanted the time alone. Last week she had been an office drone, scouting mobile games for her company to copy, and now she was suddenly a witch, and the world was suddenly filled with magic. Now, there was a dead guy in the city morgue covered in a strange spell, and this new world was getting a little claustrophobic.
Elliot caught the ferry back to downtown Seattle, watching out the window from her seat. She thought about Mitchell Locke, and if he had had a sudden epiphany right before he disappeared, that the world wasn’t what he had thought it was, that there was more to it. Honestly, disappearing sounded nice. But that was the lack of coffee talking.
Agent Lebeaux waited at the end of the dock, wearing a blue overcoat and a hat that made her look like a cop in a Sherlock Holmes book. She watched Elliot approach.
“It’s the cop,” Elliot said, refusing to make eye contact with the cat.
“Have a moment?” She asked.
“No.”
Agent Lebeaux turned to follow Elliot, who weaved through the crowd towards, well, anywhere to get rid of the cop on her tail.
“Things have gotten stranger, haven’t they?”
Elliot’s ears twitched. She didn’t stop.
“I believe there is… for lack of better words, a cult in this city.”
“Dope,” Elliot said. “Where do they meet? Do they need a sacrifice, because right now you’re killing me, and I’d rather help raise an old god.”
“I’m having trouble pin pointing that-”
“You know, to be useful…” Elliot continued.
“I think they’re dangerous,” the agent said. “I believe they’re aligned with someone very powerful, but there’s a lot of people like that in this city.”
Elliot grunted. She locked her eyes with a coffee shop and did her best to move in a straight line towards it. Agent Lebeaux struggled to stay close.
“Do you believe in magic?” Agent Lebeaux asked.
Elliot hesitated, and she stumbled. Agent Lebeaux caught her by the arm.
“That was quite a reaction,” she said. “I think in poker they’d call that a tell.”
Elliot stepped back out of the sidewalk, her back to a wall, and she thought, watching the shoes of the commuters around her. The agent watched her expectantly. Elliot looked away, looking for the Sound Walkers in the mist. “If you’re going to get me to talk, at least be useful and get me a cup of coffee.”
“Deal,” Agent Lebeaux said.
They walked in silence, stood in line in silence, until they were sitting 40 stories up in the Columbia Tower, looking out over the city. Elliot could hardly tear herself away from the window. Agent Lebeaux watched, her tail twitching in amusement at Elliot’s awe.
“This cult,” the agent started. Elliot’s ears perked again. “Its members have come from all over. I believe they are being recruited, but I’m having trouble sussing them out.”
“You think they’re magic?” Elliot asked quietly, watching cars travel down Fifth Avenue.
“I think so. Let me show you something.” The agent pulled an object out of her bag and set it on the table. It looked like a stone plate, about the size of Elliot hand, with a metal needle that balanced on a single point. The needle wobbled back and forth a bit, pointing around the room in sweeping arcs, before it settled on Elliot.
“It’s a thaumic compass,” the agent explained. “Instead of pointing to magnetic north, it looks for sources of magic.” She looked up at Elliot. “Looks like it found one.”
Elliot sank in her chair. She looked out the window. “What do you want?”
“Do you know about this cult?”
“What, you think I’m in it?” She asked sharply. “You think I’m dangerous?”
“No,” the agent said.
Elliot looked up at her, her ears pressed against her head.
“Every suspected member is male.”
“Hmm.” Elliot said. She thought a moment, her ears perking. “So, I might know someone who is…”
Elliot described the nerd to Agent Lebeaux.
“Bi-location?” She said. “That’s something. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Yeah, do that,” Elliot said. “That’s all I know.” She stood.
“I’m not done,” the agent said.
Elliot turned over her coffee cup, the last drop falling to the floor. “Feed the meter or I’m leaving.”
The agent slapped a dollar down on their table. “Get a refill.”
Elliot did, dropping the change in the tip box, and she sat back down.
“There’s one other thing,” the agent said. “I think this has to do with Mitchel Locke.”
Elliot set her cup down. “Yeah?”
“His disappearance… it’s well known in the DHS. People don’t just disappear like that.”
“What about alien abductions?” Elliot asked, leaning forward. Her tail twitched in excitement.
“I knew you were going to say that!” Agent Lebeaux said.
“I’m not hearing no…” Elliot said.
The agent sat back in her chair, and for a brief moment she smiled.
“Aw! I was so close,” Elliot said.
“Back to Locke.”
“Imma tell the Internet,” Elliot said, getting her phone out. “‘Dummy cop spills beans on aliens’.”
The agent rolled her eyes.
“Okay, so you were saying about Locke…”
Agent Lebeaux adjusted the cuffs of her sleeves. “He must be involved. Maybe as a ritual. You’ve seen the video. You’ve seen his hesitation.”
Elliot considered this. “Can I ask you a legitimate question?”
“Legitimate?”
“Yeah.”
The agent nodded.
“What happened to his car? Did you find anything inside of it?”
The cat leaned back in her chair. Her ears leveled out in thought. “That is a question, isn’t it? I’ve seen notes on its contents, but nothing really stood out.”
“Hmmm.” Elliot said. “Could… Could I see those notes?”
Agent Lebeaux took a long sip of her coffee. “Ah. What’s in it for me?”
Elliot’s ears perked. “Wow. A crooked cop.”
“I mean,” Agent Lebeaux said, “why should I? You’ve been nothing but shit to me since we met.”
Elliot started to speak, but thought better of it. She tapped her fingers on the table. “Okay… okay, what about I help you with your questions more?”
“Like we have more of these chats?”
“Like I’m not instantly an asshole to you.”
“Gosh, can you manage?”
Elliot frowned.
“I think,” the agent said, “that we have a deal.”
“BUT,” Elliot continued. “But I get to say no to any question if I want to.”
“How is that different than now?”
“I’ll be polite about it?”
The cat nodded. “Fair. Agreed?” She held out her hand.
Elliot looked down at it, and processed if her terms were good or if she was walking herself into a trap. She shook the agent’s hand. “Agreed.”
The agent stood. “Come on. I’m going to do one better for you.”
“What?”
Agent Lebeaux offered her hand to help Elliot up.
“Let’s go see the car itself.”
[g]