Friday. 10:10 PM

A ‘rendering’ bar appeared. Estimated time: Two minutes. Once that was done, I’d need to copy it to my phone and email it to my printer.

I groaned again, watching it move, then took out Andrea’s phone.

A sleepy voice answered. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Buck, it’s me. Levi. I need your help.”

He groaned. “Levi? It’s almost midnight. Is this about the ad? I already—”

“I’m wanted for murder. I need your help.”

A couple seconds of silence passed. “What?”

“Just… listen. I need you to listen.” I stared at the render bar, ticking slowly by.

“Alright. I’m listening, Levi.”

“Andrea Hills is a contractor who’s in the community. She was murdered this morning. I’m being framed for it, but I’m innocent, and I can prove it. The real murderer is a counsellor who was in town in secret, trying to cover up a financial conspiracy. The council is installing a well beneath Union Station in two weeks, and someone on the inside is working to sabotage local businesses so they can take over the market. We’re talking billions of dollars here. Money worth killing for.”

“I—” Buck started to say.

“I don’t have time for questions. I’ll text you evidence. I need you to get the word out. I’m about to be arrested, and I won’t have a chance. Tell everyone. You said that people talk, right? That’s why you don’t need my paper?” I bit my lip, flinching with fear every time I heard air whistle through the broken window. “So, talk. Prove yourself right. I’m hoping to print all the details in tomorrow’s paper, but if I can’t, you’re my only backup plan. Keep it local, but make sure everyone local knows. Okay? Please say you can help.”

A few seconds went by, then he let out a sharp breath. “Okay. Levi, whatever you’re mixed up in—”

“No time. I’ll text you those pictures for evidence. Thank you.”

I hung up, snapped a photo of the cauldrons, and opened my own phone, pulling up the picture I’d taken of the well. I snapped a photo of it, an ugly thing with a lot of glare, but one that would do the trick.

Then, I opened Andrea’s call history and took a screenshot.

Three texts. One with the pictures of the well and the cauldrons, then one with the screenshot, and a third with an explanation.

‘My alibi—I was at Maggie’s shop at 12:45, shortly after Andrea called 911. You can check her security cameras. The call failed because her phone got damaged as she was being killed.’

Pausing, I added one more text.

‘Thank you. You’re literally saving my life.’

I waited for the messages to send, then powered down Andrea’s phone and took out the battery, chucking it across the room.

Outside, I heard a noise. Looking up sharply, I put down the phone, sticking it in my bag. There was still twenty seconds left on the render, but I closed the screen most of the way, so the light wouldn’t give me away.

…

Saturday. 3:06 PM

I looked out at the horizon as I relayed this, trying to gauge the position of the sun without staring straight at it. “What time is it? Three? Three thirty? By now, everyone in town has to know.” Mirroring Murray’s words from a moment before, I asked, “Do you really think I didn’t expect you to put a communications hex on my phone the minute it had a signal?”

That got the reaction I was hoping for. Shock. Surprise. Even a hint of anxiety. They stared, comprehension dawning.

Continuing, I said, “You can’t bury the story, and you can’t bury me. If you try to make me disappear, everyone will know why. There’ll be an outcry.”

Davis slammed his fist on the table, spilling the cups of lemonade. “Dammit!”

I’d outmaneuvered them and won. It was all out in the open now. They wouldn’t be able to bury me in the legal system. People would be looking for me. Even if they drug me through court, I probably had enough pull to get the other charges dropped, given all the extenuating circumstances.

I smiled, feeling more than a little smug. “Can you uncuff me?”

Davis shot me a glare, and malice was dancing in his eyes. “Bastard’s going to get away,” he grumbled.

“You know I’m innocent,” I pointed out. “I didn’t kill her.”

“You damn near killed us,” Davis shot back. Facing his partner, he added, “How many times has he tried to expose our community just to save his own neck?”

Murray shrugged. “I’ve lost count.”

Four, I think. I managed to hold my tongue. I was starting to realize that my mental celebrations had, once again, been a bit premature.

Davis rounded on me, his glare growing more intense. “You’re slime. The kind of trash who thinks he can ignore the rules when it suits him. Murray’s worth a thousand of you.”

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Talk him down from this. You just need one of them on your side.

“Yeah? And how many people have you saved?” He stepped up closer to me, towering. There was no point in hitting me to get me to behave. Davis didn’t want me to behave. “We’re out here every day trying to keep shit off the street so scumbags like you can go on with your safe little lives, so what? You can stab us in the back when we make one mistake?”

I didn’t understand why he was doing all the talking. Murray was the one who’d committed the crime, but she’d been all but silent. I looked at her, confused, struggling to work out what exactly was going on.

She’d taken out her gun, checking the safety. As Davis heaved in an angry breath, ready to keep shouting, she interrupted him. “Are you okay with this? You can go take a walk, clear your head.”

“Dammit,” he growled. “Dammit, dammit. No. I’ve got your six, Kat.”

She nodded. “I’ll need you to hit me. Make it look convincing.”

“I don’t think he’s even strong enough to leave a mark.” Davis looked at me with an expression normally used for dog shit that had just been stepped in.

“Still. To justify the threat.”

“After,” Davis said, shaking his head.

Finally, after a painful struggle of logic, I put it together. In my defense, I was exhausted.

He was protecting his partner. All other things put aside, the council, the well, the conspiracy, that didn’t matter anymore. I couldn’t say who had killed Andrea if I was dead. They’d be able to make up whatever they wanted, and I’d have no way of contradicting them.

“You went to uncuff him, and he went for your wand,” Murray said, getting to her feet. “He was going to cast a spell. I had no choice.”

“Wait,” Davis said, holding out his hand. “The other way around. I’ll do it.”

Despite the evidence, I didn’t really like exposing the magical community to the public. They had their rules for a reason, and it was a violation of my parole. If I had another option, I would have gone with it, but I was backed into a corner.

So, it was time for my last ace in the hole.

Balling the toes of my right foot, I pressed the sole into the stone that was lodged in my shoe.

It wasn’t really a stone, though. It was a crystal.

…

Friday. 5:53 PM

“Should you take that gem thing with you?” Ben asked, pointing at the cleansing crystal I’d left in the cupholder.

I shrugged, then nodded, leaning in to grab it. “Yeah, probably.”

…

Friday. 10:13 PM

I didn’t have the time, nor the brainpower, to puzzle out why Agnita was gone. I had to get out of there, before the other counsellors showed up.

Exhausted, I nonetheless picked up my laptop, then stopped, digging in my pocket and coming out with the last warding crystal.

If they found it in my pocket, they’d definitely take it, but I wanted to have something magic on me in case I needed it. Crouching, I pulled on the side of my shoe, stretching the side a bit so I could hide the crystal under my foot.

I stood and began limping towards the window I’d come in through. I couldn’t vault over it like Ben had, not with my hands cuffed, but maybe I could scoot a box over, use that…

…

Saturday. 3:08 PM

I activated the crystal with a bit of will, and instantly the little magic relic went to work purging the air of any organized threads of power. Leylines, lifelines, and most of all, spells.

As Davis raised his gun, taking aim at my chest, the illusion around us shattered. Energy rippled in the air, the purge of power making the cleansing crystal crack with a muffled bell tone.

Someone in the park shouted in alarm. A couple others screamed. At first, I thought it was just because their perception had suddenly shifted as whatever innocuous illusion was ripped away and that had to be disorienting. Then, it occurred to me that Davis had out a gun, at a children’s park.

Phones came out. I heard a shutter before Davis had time to react, to put the gun away.

No, that was wrong. Davis did have time to put the gun away.

It stayed out anyways, pointed at my chest, his finger shaking.

“You’re being recorded,” I said, quietly. “You can’t hex all those phones, not before the community sees the video. Kill me, that’s murder.”

“Bastard,” Davis rumbled. “I’ll—”

A hand touched his shoulder. “Davis, put down the gun.”

Murray looked furious, but she knew defeat when she saw it. Anything else they did would just get them both into deeper trouble.

Davis didn’t agree.

People in the park were in turmoil. Children screamed and ran, finding cover. Someone was shouting into a phone. Someone else was yelling words at Davis, words that rolled off my ears without being processed. All I could see was the gun.

At this range, there was no chance of missing. Barring a miracle, I wouldn’t be walking away from this if he decided to fire.

I don’t know how many seconds passed, as he weighed the pros and cons of ending my life. Vengeance, for disrupting his career, versus a chance at getting out of this with only minimal punishment.

“If you shoot me,” I said, quietly, too low for the cell phone cameras to pick up. “I get to be a hero.”

It wasn’t much of a speech. I was trusting the ability of a corrupt, enraged counsellor to make rational predictions about the outcome of his actions. It was also the only thing I could think of to say.

He lowered the gun.

“You should let me go,” I added. I was too tired to care that I was pressing my luck. “If you try and hold me for the petty stuff, it’ll look like you’re making things up for revenge.”

Davis looked like he was going to raise the gun again, but Murray acted before he could. Walking around the table, she took out a handcuff key, letting me go. Turning to her partner, she said, “We need to get the scene contained.”

Rubbing my wrists, I stood up off the bench. I could get my laptop, my phone, my keys back later. I didn’t care right now, I wanted to get out of there.

The crystal was still in my shoe, broken. It felt like it’d drawn blood, but I couldn’t be sure if that was just sweat that’d accumulated in my socks.

I’d only gone five steps away before I felt the magic. Water, spit, pooling in my throat.

I tried to turn, but an invisible force was holding me in place. I couldn’t see what Davis was doing.

His voice came through loud and clear.

“I could kill you right now.” It was calm, cold. No unconsidered rage at all. “The video wouldn’t show anything, except you falling over dead.”

I choked, spit sputtering out of my mouth as I tried to suck in air.

He stepped up, close, so close I could feel the cool air from his robes. “Next time you get involved in council business, you’re not going to be so lucky. You’ve screwed with us twice. Try it again, I’ll personally be there to make sure you go down for it.”

The magic holding me up dropped. I’d been pushing against it, so I fell, coughing up fluids and gasping for breath.

Davis walked away.

So did I.