Not My Magical World
Chapter 9
Callisto Jones stood in the airport terminal, arms crossed, her fingers tapping against the arm of her leather jacket. When Harry said he would be here soon, she thought he would teleport, but why would someone with the power of teleportation do that when they could take a plane?
As people moved around her, she stretched her back, craning her neck to see over the heads of taller individuals. Her life changed drastically in the last six years; she got her private investigator license and an apartment.
With her abilities, she quickly made a name for herself, gaining accolades for being able to find the impossible. However, her talents also made the police suspicious. 'Even when I'm not doing anything illegal, they hound me.'
Callisto tensed and raised her arm to wave at the approaching Harry. As he drew closer, she took him in.
Somehow, he had grown a few inches; he now topped out at 6'2". His broad shoulders were a little wider, and his short brown hair was combed to the right. Dark Emerald eyes took her in as he drew closer.
Deliberately, Callisto slowly looked him up and down. He wore a black button-down shirt, jeans, and dark brown boots. A long leather coat stopped just above his knees. A duffel bag was draped over his left shoulder and bounced against his leg with each step.
Harry eyed Callisto, searching for any changes over the last six years. He found none. 'Her healing factor is better than I thought.'
Like the last time he had seen her, she stood at 5'9". Her hair was short, dark strands combed behind her ears, and her blue eyes stared at him as he drew closer. She was more tanned than the last time he had seen her, but then again, she'd spent months in a drug-induced coma.
She wore a white short-sleeve shirt highlighting her curves and small bust. Tight jeans accentuated her hips, and ankle-high black boots gave a few more inches to her natural height. She had her arms crossed; the motion drew her beige-colored jacket together as she tapped impatiently on her arm.
Tightening his grip on the strap of his duffel bag, Harry offered Callisto a smile as he stopped before her, "Hello, Ms. Jones."
"Cut the Ms. Jones crap. What took you so long?" She leaned forward, hissing through clenched teeth, "you can teleport, for crying out loud!"
"I can," Harry answered as they began walking out of the airport, speakers announcing arrival and departure times at their backs, "but if we're investigating a murder, I thought it would be better for me to enter the country legally."
Callisto nodded as she raised her hand to flag down a taxi.
As they settled into the back seat, beaded mats draped over the brown leather crunched.
Callisto leaned forward and gave the address. When she leaned back, Harry connected their minds.
'So, how did you find out about this?'
Callisto jumped at the sudden voice in her head and turned to glare at Harry before thinking of her answer.
'After getting my new identity, I was thinking over my options and considered becoming a cop, but since cops have to enforce the law, and a lot of laws regarding mutants are unfair, I decided on a private investigator instead. I remembered you mentioning Frank when I woke up in his Lakehouse, so as a favor to you, I kept an eye on the guy.'
'I appreciate that I wanted to, but the last six years have been busy, and with junior's disabilities, I didn't want to cause more trouble.'
Callisto nodded, and they were silent for a moment as Harry steeled himself to ask his next question.
'Can you tell me anything about how it happened?'
Callisto took a deep breath, wrinkling her nose at the smell of stale cigarette smoke that filled the car. 'All I've been able to find out is that it either involves someone moving at high speed or someone powerful,' she glanced at him, 'his rib cage was shattered, most of the organs in his torso were ruptured, and even the bones away from the point of impact were cracked.'
Harry's hand curled into a fist, his eyes narrowed, and tight pain shot through his chest. 'You knew much more than I expected for a PI that's not on the case.'
Callisto shrugged. 'What can I say, I'm good at sneaking, and the guy in the corners office likes me.'
Despite himself, a thin smile spread across Harry's lips, 'Boyfriend?'
'No, you?'
'Not my orientation.'
Callisto elbowed him, a small smile on her lips. 'That's not what I meant, and you know it.'
'No, no girlfriend,' Harry answered, shaking his head.
'Why?'
'My dream is to build a haven for mutants, and that is a lot of work. Over the last six years, I've begun setting up the foundation of that dream, but it hasn't left much time for romance.'
'Same; I've been too busy trying to get my life together,' Callisto sent back, leaning back in her seat.
'Of course,' Harry thought it was more likely that she was having trouble trusting others after what happened to her, but he didn't say that out loud. As they settled into silence once more, Harry stared out the window, watching the cars go buys he thought back to the first time he had met Robert Frank, a.k.a. the Whizzer.
–XX –
The air shimmered like a heat mirage as Harry fell from the sky, rain soaking his clothes as he impacted something hard with a splash. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating tall buildings around him.
The air was heavy in his lungs, making him cough.
"Mom, dad," he called, thunder drowning out his voice.
Placing his hand on the ground, he rose to his feet. Feeling the texture beneath his hand, he looked down, finding a hard rock-like substance beneath his hand.
Standing half hunched over, he looked up as bright light filled his vision, a sound blaring from whatever was in front of him. On instinct, he leaped into the air, soaring high. Landing on top of one of the tall buildings, he stared out over the scene before him, pale purple energy filling his eyes.
"This has to be some type of city," he stamped on the roof, "but I've never seen buildings like this before."
A frown slipped onto his features as he searched farther and farther, unable to find his parent's minds. Fear gripped his heart, and his hands curled into fists.
"I need more power; they have to be somewhere." Closing his eyes, he opened himself to the world's energies and pulled.
A frown slipped onto his features as thin wisps of power flowed into his body before a weight slammed onto his shoulders and drove him to his knees with a gasp.
His eyes flew open, and just for a brief moment, he saw a web of magic in the sky, crisscrossing a complex pattern. He stopped pulling on the energy, and the weight lessened, but it was still there, like a giant eye watching an intruder.
"Well, at least I know there's magic in the world," he glanced up at where the weave of magic had been, "and something didn't like me using it."
Releasing a breath, Harry pushed power from his skin. Pale purple energy flowed out of his body, removing the water from his clothes and shielding him from the rain as it formed a layer over his body.
Sitting down cross-legged, he thought of his options.
"Alright, I've been trained in what to do if stuff like this happens. First, I need the lay of the land, which means I need to find a local and copy knowledge from their mind."
Reaching out with his mind, he felt for anyone nearby and was surprised to find thousands of minds, "What a massive city." Searching through the minds, he tried to find the right one to give him the needed information, but there were just too many. Withdrawing his power, he was just about to try to find a Constable when a panicked mind filled with emotional pain drew his attention.
Hoping it was one of his parents, he latched on to it and gently pulled to not distract them from what they were doing since they were in combat by the taste of their thoughts.
His heart fell as the man's name filtered into his mind.
Robert Frank was a mutant with superhuman speed who fought in World War II from 1940 to 1945. Harry's heart stopped. '200 years, I'm 200 years into the future, no,' he shook his head, 'this world is different from mine.'
'Robert knows nothing of magic, Avalon, or the village in Bull Run.' His stomach clenched, 'the villages could have fallen, but with what the world thinks of mutants, they would use it to justify their hatred.'
For a moment, Harry just sat there absorbing the knowledge from Robert's seventy years of life.
When he finished, he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes staring into the distance, "That man, Robert, is going to die. I feel it. He's putting too much strain on his body," his hand curled into a fist, "if that happens with his son's disability," he trailed off.
He turned away, "Not my business. I've got more important things to worry about right now." He took a step, only to freeze, his conscience niggling him.
'Is that not how this world turned out so differently? Mutants and magicals were looking out for their self-interests instead of lending a helping hand as the founders did to Mordred all those years ago.'
'Not even away for five minutes, and you have already forgotten the values of your home.'
Harry glanced over his shoulder. Images of what would happen to the sun without his father there to guide and protect him flashed through his mind, enhanced by Robert's fears.
In a government cell, Robert Frank Junior was experimented on for his power while he screamed, filled with fear.
Harry shot into the air with a grunt, soaring toward the battle. As he moved, he slipped a portion of his mind inside Robert Senior to keep appraised of the situation.
–XX –
Robert Louis Frank, the Whizzer, panted, sweat running down his aged face and sticking his short gray hair to his head. His Brown eyes narrowed as his 5'10" frame shook with exhaustion.
"Son," Whizzer panted, "Robbie, listen to me; you need to calm down."
Robert Frank Junior charged, his 6'8" frame shaking the ground with each step. Waves of energy wafted off his body like a heat mirage, and his blue eyes flashed with red light. With a roar, Junior drew back his arm before thrusting it forward, his broad-shouldered body twisting with the blow.
Frank Senior blurred to the side, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way to calm down his son while cursing fate for putting him in this position.
Since his birth, Robert Frank Junior emitted radiation, forcing him to be isolated for the safety of others, even though Frank Senior and Madeline were immune. This isolation made him easy to manipulate; Robert Senior glanced to the side, eyeing the crumpled form of his old nemesis, Isbisa, a.k.a. Simon Meke.
'Age catches up with us all, Simon. It just caught up with you first.' No sooner than Frank had this thought, a massive fist slammed into his body, sending him hurtling sideways. He slammed into a wall, feeling his left shoulder break with a resounding crack.
Eyes squinted in pain, Robert Frank Senior rose to his feet, a dribble of blood running down his chin to fall onto the concrete floor. His legs shook as a sharp pain shot through his chest. "No," he grunted through clenched teeth, "not now."
Suddenly, the upper Windows of the warehouse shattered, sending glass raining down onto rusted machines and discarded pieces of metal. Both senior and junior froze, their heads turning in unison to stare at the figure hovering eight feet above the ground.
Robert Senior stared as the figure's Emerald eyes surveyed the room. He was 5'11" tall, broad-shouldered with lean muscle. His brown hair was matted to his head by the rain outside, and lightning backlit his figure, casting the rest of his form in shadow as he shot toward Junior.
"Don't hurt him," Robert Senior shouted, falling to one knee from the pain in his chest.
Ignoring Senior's shout, Harry shot forward, dragging a wave of water behind him. With a grace that surprised him, he whipped around Junior, wrapping the wave around him like a serpent coiling around its prey.
Exhaling, a fog exploded from his mouth, freezing the water coiled around Junior's body.
With a roar, Junior thrashed, red light bleeding from his eyes as the ice began to crack.
Harry leaped forward and slammed his hands on either side of Junior's head. With a mental pull, he began absorbing the radiation emitted from Junior's body into his own. As he was doing this, he pushed his mind into Junior's body, searching his DNA for the anomaly that made his radiation production uncontrollable.
With a quick mental poke, pale purple light flashed through Junior's body, briefly making his skeleton visible. As the remaining radiation bled into Harry, he released Junior's head, allowing him to drop to the ground.
With steam rising from his hands, he floated towards Robert Frank Senior.
The old hero had fallen on his back, his breathing coming out in rasps as his eyes glazed over. Despite this, he was not concerned for himself, "What did you do to my son?"
"Fixed him," Harry replied as he knelt beside him. As he reached his hand forward, he took in the yellow spandex with blue accents clinging to the man's body. Harry placed his hand on Senior's body. Pale white energy billowed from him, sinking into Frank.
Instantly, Frank relaxed, releasing a relieved sigh as he drifted into unconsciousness and color returned to his cheeks.
–XX –
Harry came out of his memories with a blink as he felt the car turn. He stared as they entered a suburb, quickly passing by two-story houses in the center of freshly mowed grass.
He turned to Callisto, "Whizzer's no longer living in the brownstone?"
Callisto shook her head as the car began to slow, "No, apparently, Junior has a talent for landscaping, and Frank wanted to nourish it. According to the neighbors, he also wanted to leave something for him when he passed."
As the car stopped, the cabbie cleared his throat, glancing at them from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure this is the place?"
"Excuse me," Harry leaned over Callisto, looking out her window at the house, and a tingle went down his spine.
It was once a two-story white house accented by black shutters. A dark green door was still firmly in its frame, but the right side of the house looked like a bomb had gone off.
Pieces of wood and siding lay strewn across the yard.
"Yeah, this is the place," Harry heard Callisto say as she gently pushed him away from her.
"How much do we owe you," Harry asked the cabbie, shifting so he could get to his wallet.
The cabbie gave the price, and Callisto laid a hand on Harry's arm, "I got it."
Harry looked into her eyes, "Trust me, I can pay the cabbie."
Callisto rolled her eyes, "I figured since you brought a plane ticket, but I still owe you fifty grand for what you did for me," Harry opened his mouth to say something. Callisto cut him off by applying pressure to his arm, "I know it's what you've always done, but that doesn't mean you can't be rewarded for it, besides that's only a small part of what I owe."
Harry sat there for a moment, indecision raging inside him, though he had lived in this more modern time for seven years. Men paid for things in the world and the time he came from. However, if he did that here, that would be saying to Callisto he didn't value the life she built and that he didn't believe she could take care of herself.
"Fine," Harry bobbed his head down, "thank you."
As Callisto paid the driver, Harry opened the door and got out of the car. Moving around the front of the vehicle, he stepped onto the curb and stared at the house. With the positioning of the debris, Harry could tell that whatever force had hit it had hit from the outside and was moving at incredible speed.
Harry stepped onto the driveway and made his way closer to the house. Pausing beside a scratched and dented red Cadillac, he placed his hand on the car. For a moment, his gaze shifted from the Cadillac to the car.
Gravel crunched as Callisto made her way toward him, his duffel bag draped over her shoulder. "Here," slinging the bag off her shoulder, she offered it to him by the strap.
"Thanks," taking the bag, Harry moved toward the house.
"So, what do you think?" Callisto asked as they stopped before the hole in the house.
Harry eyed the debris scattered through the interior of the house, a tipped over chair before a TV, and the cracks covered in blood on the far wall.
"I can tell you three things. Number one, Robert Frank Junior didn't do this. Number two, the attacker was moving at high speed as you thought; and number three, they can fly."
"Okay, I agree, but let's hear your reasoning."
"Robert Frank Junior was not a trained fighter. Whoever did this controlled where the debris would land. If Junior did this, there would've been much more collateral damage," he pointed to the car, "and that would be somewhere in the house."
Harry pointed to the roof, "Going by the damage to the house, whoever attacked could fly, and as fast as Junior is, he can't fly or move at the right speed."
Callisto nodded, "All very well thought out, but circumstantial without evidence, and given Junior's history, the cops have decided he's guilty."
Harry turned to her, "Did the neighbors hear anything?"
Callisto glanced up in thought, chewing on her lower lip, "They said they heard an explosion. Some of them peeked outside, saw the house in this condition," she gestured at the house, "and Junior lying in the yard, but when they blinked, he was gone."
Harry shook his head, "Junior's fast, but it takes him a while to build up speed; he's tough but not very graceful. From what you describe, something hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious and then took him all in the blink of an eye."
Callisto glanced around, "I thought of all this too, but you know how the rest of the world views us mutants. Whizzer gets some leeway since he's a war hero, but Junior," she shook her head
Harry's lips thinned as his teeth ground together, "This is exactly why he wanted to create a haven. Mutants were automatically assumed guilty of anything until they were proven innocent." Releasing a breath through his nose, he forced himself to relax, "Can you keep a lookout? There's one more thing I need to do."
Callisto glanced around again, tension filling her shoulders, "Alright," she said, speaking fast, "but don't go in the house or touch anything."
Nodding, Harry turned toward the hole. Layering his hand and pale purple power, Harry reached toward the hole.
"I told you not to touch anything," Callisto hissed, but Harry ignored her as he wrapped his hand around the broken wood.
Harry stiffened, and his eyes glazed over as pale purple energy rebuilt the broken sections of the house.
A translucent version of Robert Frank Senior sat in a chair before the TV, an empty plate in his lap. Junior was making his way down the stairs.
Suddenly, the house exploded
power flared from Harry's eyes as the events slowed.
Harry watched Junior leap over the railing to shield his father, only for a blurred figure to reach out and throw him away, angling the throw so he exited through the hole they made.
Robert Frank Senior rose to his feet, blood running down his forehead from where debris hit him.
Harry paused the image, taking a moment to look at his first friend in this world. Senior had been the one to take him in after he cured Junior; he had told him about the world and explained some of his memories; Harry's lips curled, although Senior hadn't been happy when he learned Harry read his mind.
"Don't worry, I will find out who did this to you and make them pay." With his promise spoken, Harry started the image again.
"We had a deal, I'll work with you, and you stay away from my home and son."
The figure blurred forward, and the images began to fade. The last thing Harry saw before the psychic impressions disappeared was a slender fist slamming into Frank's chest.
With a blink, Harry found himself staring into the broken house.
"Did you find anything?" Callisto asked.
"Yeah," Harry turned to Callisto, his eyes hard, "Frank knew his attacker, and he was working with someone to protect his son. Whoever they were, they took Junior; after doing this," he gestured at the house.