Warlock of Omaha Squared

By Hemaccabe

Chapter 5: Keep On Going

So, I got up. I neatened up in the garret a bit. I went back to my own bedroom and got showered and dressed. Then went down and had some breakfast. Yumi looked sleepy. She had been out at a party with Kaylee the night before which I now realized was likely a Halloween party. Duh.

Then I pulled out Baby, checked and loaded her, then did a sweep of the grounds ending with Tamar's cottage. I found nothing. The whole exercise had a closing the barn door after the horse ran off quality to it.

I entered Tamar's cottage. The front door only had a simple lock, which was unlocked. Novi had come and gone through this door, unlocking it in seconds and not bothering to relock it on the way out. I swept her cottage. I didn't spend much time in the cottage when Tamar was present and I hardly had a current inventory of her possessions, but it didn't seem like anything was missing. Except for one thing. There was a side table near the front door, as one entered the main living area. The statuette had sat there on display. It was gone. There was nothing alive and nothing left as far as I could tell. So, I locked the door on my way out. It was Friday. Tamar wasn't due back till Monday.

I called Tamar's cell. Got the expected answering machine message. I texted her to call me when she could.

With nothing else to do, I went back to the forge and started working on the Ulfberht sword again. I did a lot of design work. I beat a lot of metal. I found the metal beating to be mildly therapeutic. The banging metal certainly helped me think.

I could go look for Novi and Chebelforth right now. Kick in some doors. Demand the statuette back and save myself some embarrassment with Tamar. That would imply I tried to put the statuette back and tried to pretend nothing happened. But something had happened and lying to Tamar now, even in omission, seemed like a bad idea.

The smart play was to let sleeping dogs lie. Yes, it was an insult and the statuette could have been really valuable in some way, but they knew all about me and I knew nothing about them. Chasing them, all alone, was a good way to get dead or worse fast. Let it go. Chalk it up to a lesson learned the hard way in being more paranoid.

So, I was surprised when I got a call at ten am.

"Hi Jack, this is Chebelforth. Have you had a chance to speak with Katherine?"

Well that didn't make any sense.

"I think you know the answer to that one." I replied a bit nasty. Like he didn't send Novi and the statuette wasn't sitting on his desk right now while he pretended to be innocent.

I continued, "I don't know why you're calling me, trying to head off some sort of police investigation?"

"What are you talking about?" He answered my question with a question. Had to admit, he sounded good, clearly an excellent actor. No doubt still playing for a police audience.

"You know full well the statuette you asked about left my premises, under mysterious circumstances, last night. I don't see how I can be of any further service to you." I answered as directly as I felt prudent.

"Then I think we have to meet." Chebelforth said, his voice very firm.

Now that sounded interesting. Hunting all over hell and back only to get wiped out in an ambush, not good. Meeting in person and letting this so and so know there would be consequences? At a place of my choosing. Sounded interesting.

"Sure. I'll meet you in fifteen minutes at the Starbucks at 72nd and Dodge." Then I hung up.

I got into my battle gear in record time and was at the Starbucks in fourteen minutes.

At fifteen minutes, a luxury rental car pulled into the lot, parked and Chebelforth got out.

Yes, I had somewhat spoiled this Starbucks during my last visit. But it was a nice place to have these meetings and since the last visit, all the staff had turned over a few times and they had installed a security camera system whose specifics I was familiar with as the installers hadn't been careful.

I was standing inside when Chebelforth came in. I was feeling tough and ready to lay down some smack. I wanted the statuette back. I could then admit it had been stolen, but proudly show that it had been retrieved by my studly self. At the very least, I wanted some apology or payment.

Chebelforth went to the counter, ordered a tall coffee and paid cash. Then he walked up to me.

"I know you had it stolen. You violated my home and trust," I began.

"I suggest you sit down." He interrupted me.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was very firm. Like the toughest high-school vice-principal's firm voice you ever imagined is one story down. Chebelforth's voice was firm all the way down to the center of the Earth. I sat.

My stupid stopped there. I gave Chebelforth a good look. I had never seen anything like him, which isn't saying much since I haven't seen much. That said, he sort of looked like a Black Court vampire, but not exactly. He was deep. Very deep. He was a serious power player. He was old. Thousands of years old. He had power, a lot of it. If a great human mage had a well of power like a bonfire, this guy was a burning house. A lot of what I see is subjective and subtle impressions, but I got the sense this guy knew a lot about using his magic in quick and violent ways. I was very intimidated. This guy would swat a Ha out of his way.

For his part, I could tell that the illusion covering Chebelforth's appearance had slipped. He had gone from being a character who'd be played by Paul Giamatti to one that would be played by a very strung out Dolph Lundgren.

"I know you have the statuette. I have tracked it to your home. It belongs to me and I want it back. I'm not sure what you think you have to gain by claiming such a conveniently timed theft. Perhaps it's some sort of foolish negotiating ploy. I don't care. I'm prepared to pay a fair price in many coins, but I want what is mine." He said with a depth of menace and conviction I could feel in my toes.

The fact that I had not yet vacated my bowls was in large part because I had done so directly before coming to this meeting. Still, it was a major moral victory on my part.

I had a pretty good idea that this guy was some sort of undead and survived by eating people. I had the sense he could eat me more easily than he had eaten the pot sticker at the Lodge.

I pulled together the shreds of my dignity and said, "I have no objection to providing you with what is yours. That said, I don't have possession of it any more. So as I said before, there isn't much I can do for you."

Chebelforth's eyes burned as he replied, "I hold you responsible. If you don't can't help me then I don't see much reason why you need to remain alive."

I gulped and answered quickly, "I will try and regain it and give it to you."

"Bring it to me or I will become impatient and come looking and you won't like that. Do you understand?" He asked with a voice more menacing than I thought was possible.

"I understand." I answered. My voice mostly not changing octave.

Without saying another word Chebelforth got up and left the shop.

For several minutes it was a battle of will to remain seated in the chair and not curl up under the table and start weeping. Eventually, remaining seated won and I managed to get up and go back to my truck before weeping and then drive home.

When I got home and was inside the walls, but not in the garage with it's cell phone defeating cement and steel construction, I called Travis.

Travis was in the wilds of Oregon somewhere far from a cell tower tracking down a deer that would be on the Lodge's menu soon. That's what Travis did. He kept track of legal hunts all over the US and Canada, made sure he put in the appropriate apps and fees, then went. He was doing, in a modern way, what Hunters have been doing since humans first figured out the idea that killing and eating other animals could provide valuable sustenance and protein. The Lodge paid him a regular salary and expenses and he kept a steady stream of venison, elk and other wild game on the menu. Travis was happy as a clam.

Travis loved being a three day drive out into the back end of nowhere far from civilization. He would take that Jeep truck I gave him, pack it to the gills, but neatly and with order so every gram and cubic inch was pulling it weight, and drive to wherever he had gotten a tag and go bag his game. I knew, because I'd gone with Travis once. He'd been very kind and acted like a hunting guide. He tracked me down a nice six-point buck and I'd used his .308 to shoot it. I did well. The shot had gone through the animal's heart and it had dropped dead instantly. We had gone to the animal. Cleaned it.

Then Travis said, "You have to drink this," handing me a cup of blood he had drawn from to animal.

I replied, "What?"

"You have to appease the spirit of the animal." Travis explained.

I didn't really want to, and it didn't square well with my religious beliefs, but it was important to Travis, so I drank. It tasted good.

Travis had roasted the deer's heart that night and had me eat it.

"It's a tradition on your first kill." Travis had said.

It was also good in an unusual way. A little gamey, tougher and stringier than normal meat, but it was very fresh and had a meaty flavor I had never tasted before.

Travis had also grilled up the venison liver with some garlic, onions and butter. The liver was very easy to eat with some surprisingly good rice pilaf that had come from an envelope and some hot water.

While some of the food on the hunt was really good, Travis eats sparingly, for him, while out which makes sense since every bit of food must be brought in the back of a very small truck, and sometimes packed in on backs, for days. I ate what Travis ate while we were out, but when we were in the Jeep truck driving home, we stopped at one of those "Eat the whole 72 oz steak and it's free" places. I ate two. Not a bad steak considering.

I don't really like being hungry. I know it's not terribly attractive in a man, but I also don't enjoy "roughing it" any more than I do in my camper. So, I haven't been along again since. That said, I did enjoy having the experience.

"I'll have a deer in another day or so, but if you need me to, I'll drop everything and come home. It'll still take at least three days." Travis said by satellite phone.

"No get the deer and then come home." I replied.

"Okay, I'll be back as soon as I can be." He said, starting to get scratchy on the tenuous connection.

If I dragged Travis back home early, that would not only be screwing him up, but screwing up Miranda, Kelly and the Lodge. I felt painfully guilty with the idea that I would be imposing on everybody because I couldn't keep my pants up and take some basic stupid precautions. Then there was also the simple practical fact of what could I expect Travis to do if I fought Chebelforth? A high end undead like that, a shot from a high-powered rifle might not really bother him. After he was done wringing the life from me, he might bounce over to Travis and do the same to him for having the temerity to shoot him.

The truth was, I could really use Travis to try and track down the statue. I didn't know where it was, but if it was in Omaha, he could probably find it.

It was then that I had a simple idea. The smart play was always to look at problems from both angles, magic and technological. I didn't have any way to track Novi by magic that I could think of, but that didn't mean technology had no answers.

I went to the Lodge and found the bartender.

"The blue girl from last night, I need her credit receipt." I said.

"Yes sir." He answered. He knew I was some sort of management person.

We shuffled receipts for a while, then he pulled one out and, in his best provincial Omaha voice said, "Yeah, I remember she had a funny name."

I looked at the receipt. Novi Senrai. Sounded Indian? Hmm.

I took the receipt to my table, letting them bring me a big pile of smoked bison brisket, and started working it with my notebook computer.

After a bit I found that the same credit card had been used around town for several days and was still renting a room at the New Victorian Inn. Bingo.

I let myself into the hotel's network and found her room, 194. It was one that had it's own exterior door.

Time for a visit.

I drove down and found where her door was. I went and let myself in. It was a simple plastic swipe lock, it took seconds to spoof. Then I was in. It was a typical hotel room. I spent a few minutes rifling it and found no statuette.

Then Novi came through the hotel side door.

I didn't wait. "You stole from my home. I want that statue back."

"Foolish man." She said to me, giggling, clearly not taking me very seriously.

This was really not a situation I was well prepared for. I didn't want to shoot her to death over a cheap piece of art. Nothing else I had on me was really based on subduing, not killing a target.

As the best thing I could think of, I pulled out my axe.

"Do you think I am a tree?" Novi mocked me, still laughing.

I sent a bolt of force at her, hoping it would knock her down, let me subdue her.

She thought that was hilarious.

With a sexy twitch of the hips to the left, the bolt of force missed her and then with a twitch to the right, the bolt orbited her and flew straight into my chest. It picked me up and flung me through the room's picture window backward. I flew through the air some distance and was lucky enough to land mostly on grass. Only my head and upper back landed on sidewalk. My spine protection kept me from a broken back, but I was fully winded. Novi flew out of the room, literally, her bottom half a whirlwind like some sort of jinni. She flew away giggling.

Just as she was passing me, Novi pointed a finger at me and said, "Whoosh!"

I flinched.

She thought that was funny too.

Then she was gone. I dragged myself off the ground and could hear police sirens in the distance. I hauled myself into my truck and got the hell out of there. Overall, not my proudest moment. Oh yeah, and my axe was broken. The handle had snapped just below the head. Perfect.

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