Scene 22 - October 16th

Exterior Docks, Night

Quinn Kaufman

After an instant that felt like weeks, the world holding its breath as I stared down the barrel of a gun, a sigh came from behind the buyer.

“You know,” said a new voice, “I really thought you guys could handle this.” The sound of snapping fingers, and the woman’s gun vanished in a twist of smoke. “I’m glad I kept an eye out after all. You should be ashamed of yourself, Canaveral, bringing an untrained Journeyman into something like this.”

The buyer whirled on the newcomer as Canaveral and I turned our attention his way. He was a slender man in a well-tailored tuxedo, blood red and shining white. A white domino mask hid his identity without hiding his good looks, and he was toying with a top hat in one hand.

“Of course it’s you,” the buyer sneered. “What is it with our patrons getting in the way tonight? Is Starling going to show up next? Has Brewer sabotaged our purchase?”

The magician-looking man shrugged. “If you don’t want me interfering, you could offer me something in return. Or simply not conduct your business on my doorstep.” He smiled at Canaveral. “Hey Navi.”

The hero grinned back. “Max. Does this mean that you were the one who called in with that anonymous tip?”

I recognized the newcomer now, after Canaveral called him by his name. It was the Magnificent Maxwell, a local villain who themed himself after a stage magician, performing magically-enhanced tricks of prestidigitation and misdirection to commit his crimes - mostly theft, mostly from museums. Why was he helping us?

“Yeah, that was me,” Maxwell agreed. “These assholes were literally setting up a drug deal right outside my current hideout. I really don’t know what they expected.”

“Excuse me,” said the buyer in an icy voice, “I’m still here.” She reached into her jacket and pulled out another pistol, even larger than the other one, and pointed it at Max. How the hell had that fit in there?

He just snapped his fingers again and the second gun vanished as easily as the first. “Why did you think it would work the second time if it didn’t work the first?” he asked. “I mean, it’s not like equality does anything to me.”

“It’s a bit of an inconvenience for my friend here, though,” Canaveral said, inclining his head towards me. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” The magician made a wide, sweeping gesture, and the faint rainbow tint that the mist had added to the world vanished - I felt my ESP return with a momentary lance of pain to the back of my skull, as my brain readjusted to having an extra sensory input. “And since I’m feeling generous...” He swept his arm the other way, and all the fallen thugs were suddenly bound up in chains that coalesced out of thin air, as was the woman who had led the buyers.

“You’ll pay for this, Maxwell Copperfield,” she warned, glaring at the man. “Ambrosia won’t take this kind of interference lying down. You-” She was cut off by the sudden appearance of a gag across her mouth. Who was Ambrosia? I made a note to look it up later.

“Thank you, Max,” Canaveral said, walking over to the man. “It’s always nice to have you helping instead of hindering. Have you reconsidered joining the good guys?”

“Have the MLED expanded their library of magical knowledge?”

“Well...”

“Then no.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Um...” They both turned to face me.

“Ah yes. Max, this is a recently-empowered metahuman, currently using the nomme-de-guerre of Newton,” Canaveral said, introducing me. “They’re considering their options for when they register with the MLED, and are currently taking advantage of the vigilante rules to get a taste of heroing.” I hadn’t realized there were such rules, actually - I had just trusted that Canaveral knew what he was doing. “Newton, this is Maxwell-”

“The Magnificent Maxwell,” the Magnificent Maxwell interjected.

“-the Magnificent Maxwell, a petty thief.”

He crossed his arms. “A petty thief? I take offense, Navi.”

The hero shrugged. “If the shoe fits, wear it. You’re a thief, Max. Accept it.”

“I’m an artist,” he insisted. “Thievery is simply a necessity in my line of work.”

“Arthur Peregrine doesn’t need to steal.”

“Men like Arthur Peregrine hoarding all the magical texts is exactly the problem-”

“I hate to interrupt,” I said sarcastically, “but shouldn’t we be arresting you right now?”

“Ah, my sidekick brings up a good point.”

“Not your sidekick,” I muttered.

He flapped a hand dismissively. “Have you done anything tonight that I need to arrest you for?”

“Not in your sight, at least.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Then I’ll be off, while you explain to the new kid what’s what.” He tipped his hat to Canaveral respectfully.

“Hold on! The keys to those chains?” the hero requested.

“Ah yes.” Maxwell dropped a keyring into his hand. “Terribly sorry, completely slipped my mind.” He then produced a large black sheet from within the jacket of his tuxedo and tossed it into the air. It obscured him from view as it fell, and when it hit the ground he was gone. A moment later, the sheet simply evaporated as well.