Spell Blind Read Free

skin pink from the heat.
    I heard the fire engines arrive a few minutes after I carried the last unconscious girl to safety. Moments later a trio of firefighters came running around the corner to the back of the building. Seeing the kids and me, they stopped.
    “Good God,” one of them muttered.
    “Yeah,” I said. “We’re going to need a few ambulances.”
    “Spark den?” another guy asked, as the first radioed for help.
    I nodded.
    “And who are you?”
    I pulled out my investigator’s license. “Jay Fearsson,” I said, holding it up for them to see. “I’m a PI.” I pointed at Jessie. “Her parents hired me.”
    Jessie’s eyes widened just a little, and her eyebrows went up, but she said nothing.
    “You hurt?” the first guy asked.
    “No.”
    “How’d the fire start?”
    “There was another guy here—their supplier, I’m guessing. He started it when I showed up, and got away while I was carrying them out.”
    I didn’t say more than that. Most people know that magic exists, but that doesn’t make them comfortable with it, or with the people who cast spells. Filling in the details would have raised questions that I didn’t feel like answering just then.
    I heard more sirens in the distance, and figured at least a few of them were Phoenix Police. I’d be there a while answering questions. I walked to where Jessie sat and squatted down in front of her. It took a moment for her gaze to slide up to mine, and another for her eyes to gain focus.
    “Jessie Tyler, right?”
    She nodded. I thought I’d have to explain again who I was, but she was more cogent than I expected. “My parents really hire you?” she asked.
    “Yeah. Does that surprise you?”
    Jessie shrugged, stared past me.
    “Who’s your supplier, Jessie? Who was keeping you here?”
    She didn’t answer.
    A couple of uniformed cops turned the corner. I saw them stop, take in the condition of the kids, and then speak to the firefighters, one of whom pointed my way.
    The cops’ questions were pretty standard. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and they knew it. The fact that I had once been on the job helped too. They took Jessie and the others into custody, which I should have expected. Almost all of them would spend more time at the hospital than in jail, but still Jessie’s parents weren’t going to be pleased. Then again, they had hired me to find her, not to be her lawyer, so in the end they would have little choice but to pay me.
    Once I was done giving my statement, the cops said I was free to go. I walked to the open door I had used to enter the garage, and examined it. The first spell that myste had thrown at me had rattled the door; there should have been some residue of magic on the door frame. All spells leave behind traces of power in the form of glowing luminance that clings to those things the magic has touched. And the magic of every myste manifests itself in a unique color. Thing is, only another myste can see it. I was hoping that Jessie’s supplier had left behind the equivalent of a magical calling card.
    But the Phoenix sun was bearing down on us at this point, bleaching colors, making it hard to see anything other than the sun’s reflection on the dull steel. I thought I saw the faintest suggestion of beige or tan, like the color of dried grass, but I couldn’t be certain.
    “What’re you looking for?” one of the cops asked from behind me.
    I glanced back, then eyed the doorway again. The cop walked to where I stood.
    “The guy who started the fire did other weird stuff, too,” I said. “I think he used some kind of mojo on me. The first time he did it, I was right here by the door.”
    The cop stared at me for a moment, no doubt to see if I was joking. When I didn’t smile or even glance his way, he began to study the door frame too. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Do you?”
    “No,” I said. “Not a thing.”
    I walked away, heading back to my car. As I turned the corner, I saw that the