If there’s one kind of case I always (Always) kick up to specialists, it’s the ones that involve magic. And they come up way more than you think. That’ll happen when you have to classify anything that the science guys can’t explain. A new supervillain has an ability that the government can’t figure out, check with a wizard. It might be magic. A massive data breach with no electronic trail or psychic signature. Probably magic.

Working a magic case is like being shown an abstract painting and then being told to solve the puzzle. It just doesn’t make sense. So, you can imagine how tight things had to be for me to agree to work on a case with the wizard detectives.

I had a pretty good working relationship with the paranormal investigator crowd. I probably sent more to them than other detectives I know. So, when Frank’s superiors made sure he couldn’t lift the yellow tape for me anymore and money got tight, they were ready to throw me a bone. One of the newer groups I had given referrals to asked me in on some cases as a consultant. Mostly because a much more established and respected wizard detective told them to. Wizards have a strong internal hierarchy based on who’s been there the longest.

Now I may moan about magic, but I was grateful for the work and the money. The guys at the agency knew I was out of my element and this was a glorified charity thing. I would get coffee and be helpful around their ‘office’ in return for a little income to let me keep paying some of my bills. You’ll have to imagine the confused look on my face when I ended up in the middle of a magical ‘event’ with them.

The whole thing made me wonder why I hadn’t found a more stable or safe line of work. But I remember telling you that I’m not overly smart. Thinking of new career paths after decades of doing this kind of work was not in my wheelhouse.

 

On the day of the incident, I had been working with the wizards for about a week. I thought I mostly knew how things worked in the magical detective scene. First, they had a very handy calendar marked out, which I copied down for later reference. They kept an eye on the day of the month and time of year, as many magical crimes or ‘events’ usually correspond to something on the calendar (full moons or solstices). Interestingly, there isn’t usually some astrological cause to these crimes or magic disasters. Magic criminals tend to look at the calendar and try to buff their chances of success by lining something up with a specific date or their horoscope. Doesn’t work, and usually leads them to give away clues that get them caught.

Secondly, I learned to feel a little more ok about not knowing things about magic in general. In the Agency, there were typically four to six magicians working the cases. Each one of them would give a different explanation of what ‘magic’ was.

The one that I talked to the most was Harvey Graven, an “enchanter”. You may have seen some of his merch at his artsy online store thing. He made magic seem like some other form of electric current that could be stored and then connected to ‘spells’, like copper wires to a lightning rod or battery. I didn’t really get it. At the time I had offhandedly asked what he was doing at his desk, which looked like a front for the aforementioned online store. “These things arranged this way, collect the kind of power I need to imbue these other things with energy that let me make these knick-knacks do things.” I paraphrase.

“Neat,” I said and then got everyone more coffee. I noticed while Harvey was explaining that the other guys in the agency were looking over their coffees like he was some crazy weirdo.

The other guys in the office I most often worked with were: Lucas Quinn, Connor Johnson, and Zhorasto the Mysterious (aka Zachary Kiplan). Lucas was some kind of half-a vampire whose powers only worked at night or in a basement, Connor used lots of magic words to do things, and Zhorasto created illusions. Not the typical stage performance ‘illusions’, though he had made a profession of doing that too. He could make you see just about anything he could think of.

About a week in, Lucas calls from outside the office while I’m organizing some of their case files. Harvey picks up the phone. He listens for a second and then says.

“The Black Cabal!? Are you sure?” There is some more hurried talking and then he hangs up and shouts “We got a Lead. Let’s go!”

And before I know it, I’m crammed into the back seat of Harvey’s tiny little town car with the other guys in the office and we’re racing outside the city limits.

Driving down the freeway at 90 mph, I had the time to nudge Zach, who was crammed next to me. “What’s up with the rush?”

“Lucas was working a lead on a case for…” He name-dropped some semi-famous B-list superhero. I don’t remember which one. He continued, “He thought it might lead to Baron Eldritch or the Duchess, but it looks like there might be a connection to the Black Cabal instead. We gotta get there quick before they sweep the place clean.”

Real quick, the Black Cabal is these guys’ particular blend of nemesis and conspiracy theory.  Now, I don’t doubt there is something to it. People know that Baron Eldritch, aside from being a genius mad scientist and evil sorcerer, also has a small country’s worth of cultist minions. The Duchess is an evil vampire queen with a whole criminal network of thralls to do her evil bidding. There is no reason that the Black Cabal couldn’t be real. But like every functional evil secret society, currently operating, they can cover their tracks. The guys had had run-ins with agents of the Cabal but hadn’t figured out who any of the leaders were. Or their plans. They usually thwarted something the Cabal was doing every couple of months but never had been able to snag any physical evidence.  And before you start entertaining the notion that it was some stuff that they made up for publicity, their Cabal casefiles were definitely real and a lot of other superpowered detective agencies had to help with them. The Park Plague of Undeath a couple of months ago was particularly messy. Also, the magical leaders frown on drawing too much attention to the community and harshly police anything that smells a whiff of fraud. So, whether the guys were right about the Cabal or not, I knew it was something that they took very seriously. By the end of that whispered conversation in the backseat, I was in front of an honest-to-goodness haunted mansion outside the city limits.

This house was almost too stereotypical. I actually asked Harvey if I was being pranked. Of the four magicians, Harvey can’t keep a straight face. A few days ago, he tried to prank Conner with a magic pen that rewrote and scrambled whatever was written with it. He could not stop himself from smirking as soon as Conner picked up the enchanted pen. I knew it was serious when I saw the look on his face.

When we got out of the car, Conner took a few moments to raise his hands to the building and murmur some incantations. He learned…something. Then nodded to Harvey, who went to the front door and used some sort of magic skeleton key, and let us all in through the front.

I asked the group, “Do we have other ways of getting out of here if we need a quick exit, or is the front the only way out?”

“No worries there Leo,” said Harvey. “Conner and I just took care of it. His spell made it so that when I opened the front door, I opened every lock in the building. We’re set.”

I was the last to go in, looking up at the house as I entered the house’s main hall. I felt that distinct queasiness I get in my stomach when I think about getting on a roller coaster or watching a scary movie. How is it that we find ourselves in these situations where our ability to read and foresee danger goes right out the window?

The door slammed behind us. Harvey went to open it back up again. When it initially resisted, he took out his enchanted skeleton key again. After a second, he turned back to the group.

“It won’t open.”