FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The pack arrived at the Historic Silver Cafe just in time for the dinner rush. Poe and his cabal were already there, sitting with two tables pushed together to have enough room for the pack as well.

When they sat down, David happened to be seated close to Annabelle. Poe’s wife immediately stood up and switched spots with Kevin Rogers, the apprentice mage that David made throw up by covering him in Joseph Talbot’s blood in the astral plane. The apprentice, while wary, didn’t seem as off put by the Ithaeur as he originally was. It seemed that he had gotten used to the insanity of the Truth of the world.

With Annabelle now safely as far away as she could reasonably be from David, Poe set a large shoebox on the table.

“We succeeded in getting tribute to appease the graveyard keeper,” announced Poe.

David reached over and snatched the shoebox. Lucas leaned over as he opened it. Inside were a pair of old combat boots.

“Those were quite difficult to acquire,” said Poe. “Quite expensive to acquire too.”

David looked at the boots. Boots as tribute made perfect sense for Keeper-of-Boots because of Boothill Cemetery of how the most valuable thing most of the people buried there would have had on them when buried were their shoes. Graverobbers would dig up graves and collect shoes from the dead since, whether poor or criminal, the dead aren't going to be buried with jewellery. It was a common source of boots for the community. Pawn off the dead outlaws' boots and they re-enter circulation in the community, where most manufactured goods had to be hauled in by wagon from back East. They weren’t going to let such a valuable commodity go to waste in a grave.

But they needed to be more than a pair of old boots. They needed to have something special about them to appease Keeper-of-Boots enough to forgive the mages for their transgression.

“Whose boots are these?” demanded David. He sensed that they must have belonged to someone important, or at least influential.

“Elvis Presley’s,” answered Poe. He pointed at the box in David’s hands. “Those are the boots he used when he served in the army.”

David tossed the box back to the centre of the table with a scoff. He was loath to admit it out loud, but the king of rock and roll’s old combat boots would make the perfect tribute to Keeper-of-Boots.

Poe cleared his throat, cringing as David treated the expensive boots so roughly. “The main reason we had to have this meeting called was to stress how necessary it is for us to find this particular grave in the first place.”

“You may be aware that the Mysterium is responsible for keeping the archives and libraries that our orders call Atheniums,” said Annabelle which made Colin roll his eyes.

“Oh Luna. Here we go.” groaned Colin, knowing from experience as Elder Howls-for-Lost-Skies assistant, who was the Protectorate Council’s liaison to the mages, that the mages were going to start talking their ears off. “At least it’s not Atlantis.”

Annabelle continued, “Atheniums are our order’s libraries, vaults, and academies all rolled into one. They’re important to all Awakened as a whole. It’d be a big problem if someone stole a whole one.”

Alice cut in, explaining to the gathered werewolves, “It’d be like stealing a whole den.”

The mage’s explanation made them all growl.

“That happened one hundred and fifty years ago during the Civil War,” said Annabelle.

“Someone stole a den?” growled David.

“An athenium, moron,” snapped Lucas.

David started to growl at Lucas but was stopped by Morrison.

“Don’t start,” he warned, glaring at both of the Ithaeur. “Not now. Not in public.”

Annabelle nervously cut in, “Andrew Cannon, the body we’re looking for, was a cavalry officer for the Confederacy but also a mage in a Concilium that was split because of the war.”

Poe added, “Tennessee was divided even among the Awakened.”

Annabelle continued, “After a disastrous battle and the Union overrunning his detachment-”

“No surprise there,” interrupted Lucas. “The Western CSA army sucked, the Union had a pretty easy time with that whole half of the war. All of the heavy fighting the Civil War is known for was on the Eastern front.”

“Anyways,” said Annabelle, “He deserted and took his wife to New Orleans. There, he used his Concilium connections and the impending Union capture of the city to encourage the relocation of the city Atheneum. Half the Mysterium leadership was busy with the war and away from the city, so there were only a few midranking caucus members left to defend the Atheneum. Cannon convinced them they couldn’t defend it and that mages trailing the Union army would ransack the vault the same as the soldiers would the rest of the city. He helped them move the contents of the Atheneum into a pocket dimension vault that connected to an amulet, they could smuggle the entire library-vault out of the city with ease. The problem was, Cannon had two pocket dimension amulets, one ended up with the entire Atheneum, the other was empty.”

Jesse spoke up, amused, “Cannon conned his Mysterium fellows into taking the empty vault amulet?”

Annabelle nodded, “A magical shell game that swindled an entire city of its most valuable magic. The Cannons left by sea on a smuggler ship who slipped the Union blockade.”

Poe interjected, “Probably with help from Cannon.”

Annabelle continued, “From there the trail went cold for a century and a half. A recent underwater survey of shipwrecks found the lost smuggling ship, it was on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean a hundred miles south of San Francisco. The ship log was reconstructed with some crafty Time and Matter magic to repair it after a couple lifetimes underwater. The log proved Andrew Cannon and his wife were aboard, the captain was surprised with what good time they made going around South America and was happy to soon dock in San Francisco. Cannon had promised him a large amount of gold he had deposited at a bank in the city.”

“That was a lie,” said Poe. “He had never been to San Francisco.”

“Evidence on the wreck, which was only discernable to the Awakened team that investigated it, not the Sleepers,” said Annabelle, “found that Cannon had sunk the ship with a storm, only he and his wife ever made it to shore. This new link in the trail reignited the search for New Orleans’ treasure, this time on the West Coast, not Central America or Europe where it had been believed Cannon had fled to. After an extensive search through old stagecoach records, Mysterium investigators found a man and woman traveling east from coastal California to the newly made state of Nevada that matched the Cannon’s description. They were traveling unusually light and in the wrong direction, which stuck out to the coach driver, who recorded taking the couple to Hiko, Nevada, which was then the county seat of Lincoln county. This led to the Mysterium contacting the Las Vegas Concilium and setting the Mysterium caucus there on the next leg of the trail.”

“Normally,” said Alice, taking over the history lesson of which both David and Colin had long since zoned out of. The both of them paid far more attention to other things than the mages. David was fiddling with lighter, flicking it on and off, and Colin was more interested in their food that had finally arrived, “The Mysterium team that would be following this would be the original mixed team from New Orleans, the original claimants of the vault, and San Francisco, the team that dived the wreck. But because of the political arrangement the Pentacle Orders have with the Las Vegas Protectorate, all magical finds in Protectorate territory must be logged with the Werewolves, and the Pack Council would only allow a local Mysterium team to conduct the search while the trail remained in Southern Nevada. If the vault was found here, then its contents would have to be split between all three Concilium rather than the first two. The Uratha also retained the right to claim any non-Awakened magics or artifacts for the Protectorate.”

Poe took the conversation back. “Obviously, the Mysterium as a whole is furious about this, and it was their hope that the trail would soon lead out of Protectorate territory. We really need to find this treasure trove. Not just this consilium, but the New Orleans and San Francisco consilium want it too. We would like you to help to get the information we need from the keeper or dig up the entire graveyard. At this point our superiors don’t care if we do.”

“If you do that none of you are coming out alive,” warned Kaiden.

Poe cleared his throat, off put by the threat. He produced a letter from his jacket and passed it to Morrison.

Morrison looked at the letter. It was sealed with wax seal. The stamp in the wax was the familiar stylised skyline of Las Vegas set below a half moon and the silhouette of a baying wolf’s head. The seal of the Las Vegas protectorate.

He raised an eyebrow and opened it. He looked it over for several moments before remarking, “Oh, interesting.”

“Hey!” snapped David as the Old Man snatched his lighter

Morrison burned the letter into the ashtray. He tossed the lighter back to David and told the mages, “It’s a good thing that letter was enchanted to keep you witches from reading it. Cause you really shouldn’t have.”

Lucas watched the burning embers in the ashtray nervously, “What’s going on?”

Morrison said, “Looks like the Protectorate is interested in recovering this vault.”

He turned to the pack and whispered so only their enhanced senses could hear, with David whispering it to Colin so he was in the know, the both of them zoned back into situation, “I’ll explain it to you lot later.”

He turned his attention back to the mages, who were watching the pack whispering among themselves with concern, and slight annoyance, “We’ll help you. We’ll have to work together on this.”

He thought to himself for a moment before offering, “How about Friday? So we can prepare for what we need. So we have the resources in case it turns into a larger treasure hunt.”

Poe nodded. “This Friday night will work.”

The mages then got up to leave. Morrison stopped them with a harsh clearing of his throat. The elder werewolf looked at the mages expectantly before gesturing towards the table with his eyes.

Poe pulled out his wallet and left a couple hundred dollar notes on the table for their dinner. Before the mages left, Alice came up to Lucas and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

David spit his drink into his cup and Colin gave a derisive snort, “A mage? Really?”

He then muttered to himself, “Explains why the council stopped pestering you to find an appropriate mate.”

David wiped his mouth and demanded, “How the fuck did you hide that from us?”

Colin slapped David’s arm for his language.

“Well, unlike you,” Lucas said, giving David an annoyingly smug smile, “I actually know how to get rid of that particular scent.”

David pointed at Colin, “What about him? The Old Man smelt it on him too.”

“He knows how to get rid of it,” grumbled the Old Man. “He wanted people to know you claimed him as your mate.”

The elder turned to the wolf-blood, who was avoiding their gaze, “Probably did it to keep the Council from pestering you to find a mate. Didn’t work. Did it?”

Colin crossed his arms and scowled, “No.”

“Probably shifted to pestering you to go to a sperm bank instead,” added Morrison.

Colin didn’t answer, but his deepening scowl told Morrison all he needed to know.

“Come on,” he told the rest of the pack. “Let’s get out of here so I can explain what’s really going on.”

They quickly finished their dinner before heading out. Once they were all in the Den and the door’s locked, Lucas asked, “Okay, what’s so interesting?”

Morrison pointed with his thumb in the vague direction of the Historic Silver Cafe, “That letter from the council, they apparently want this atheneum found cause they’re getting a cut. They leaned on the mages to enforce that all magical finds must be logged with us Uratha and the pack council will only allow a local cabal to continue digging. Says if it’s found in protectorate territory that the council gets a cut.”

He smiled, “They knew he was buried here by the way. They made a log of all the gravestones in Boothill. We knew he was here when we entered negotiations. This confederate piece of shit was buried here, so that treasure trove would be buried here. We pulled a scam on them and we’re gonna get a massive cut.”

He looked at all of them and told them, “If you have anything to do in the next few days before we meet them again, I suggest you do.”

***

That Friday, the day they agreed to meet the mages later that night. Almost everyone was gathered at the table for breakfast. Tsu’mara had an M2 Browning set onto the table; she had been spending the last few days modifying it so it could be wielded while in Gauru. She had changed the firing mechanism from being paddles into a regular trigger.

Jesse was next to her reading the M2’s manual, having spent the last few days learning from Tsu’mara more about firearms.

To everyone else's surprise, Lucas and David were together at the table discussing some secret plan among themselves.

“I don’t think Dane would approve of you doing this,” warned Lucas with a hushed whisper.

“I think giving what it did that he’d make an exception,” said David, drumming his fingers on the table as he brainstormed. “What about the library’s index?”

“That’s a horrible idea,” said Lucas.

“How?” asked David. “You saw the state the library was in after the Old Man ransacked it trying to figure out the Wound. We could use something to keep it in order.”

“Because it could rebel and deliberately give us the wrong information,” explained Lucas. “The last thing we need is-”

“Shut up,” snapped David, realising something.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” Lucas snapped back. “Just because you don’t like being shown how stupid your ideas are-”

“Shut up!” repeated David. He looked around the table and towards the Den’s front door. “Where’s the Old Man? He’s usually here for breakfast about now.”

Jesse put down the M2 Browning’s manual and started looking around the Den. When he was in the kitchen, he called out, “All the alcohol is missing too.”

“I’m gonna go check his cabin,” Kaiden said, standing up from his chair. David followed.

They didn’t even reach the door of Morrison’s cabin before the two’s noses scrunched in disgust from the overbearing smell of alcohol.

“Don’t use your lighter at any point,” joked Kaiden.

David approached the cabin’s door and pounded his fist against it.

Morrison shouted out, his voice slurred, and muffled by the walls of his cabin, “Go away!”

David ignored the Old Man’s order and let himself in.into the cabin. The cabin’s interior was a complete mess. Empty alcohol bottles and cans littered the ground. The pair made their way inside and found Morrison sprawled out, shirtless, in the bedroom with even more bottles around him.

He stirred on the bed, a look of what looked like shame crossed his face when he saw the pair standing over him. He slurred, “I said go away.”

David kept his nose scrunched up from the stench of alcohol, but he also noticed the smell of tears. Confirmed when he saw how red the Old Man’s eyes were.

He told the elder, “You look like shit.”

Morrison mumbled, “That’s what happens when you’re in mourning.”

Lucas barged into the bedroom asking, “What do you mean mourning? Who died?”

Morrison gestured to a calendar hanging on the wall by the bed, “My last pack died today how many years ago? Thirty years ago now.”

He covered his eyes and groaned, “Damn vision was correct. I fucking hate these visions.”

“What visions?” asked David.

“The damn ones from Luna,” snapped Morrison. He looked around on the bed for a bottle that still had some alcohol in it.

He found a half empty bottle of whiskey and tried to reach for it. But it was smacked out of reach by David. Morrison tried to reach for it again but David snatched it.

David went to tip what little remained of the bottle, “What visions?”

Morrison gave him a harsh glare, furious over being blackmailed. He scowled. “I suppose I’ll finally tell you. I know how you’re all gonna die.”

“That’s a cheerful thought,” said Kaiden.

Morrison’s eyes snapped to Kaiden. “You’re already getting dream visions from Luna. Started with Mrs Conners.”

He continued, “I got a special gift from Luna that every Uratha I meet I see their death.”

He pointed at David. He went to say something but stopped himself, “No, I shouldn’t say anymore.”

“You knew?!” snarled David, his hand shaking as he gripped the whiskey bottle with white knuckles. “You knew Dane was going to die?!”

“Stop your whining,” snapped Morrison. “We’re all gonna die. My visions show how you die. Only a handful I met died in their beds. Everyone else, a violent one.”

“There isn’t a zero sum chance,” said Kaiden.

Morrison ignored him, “These damn visions I’ve had my head bashed in, arms ripped, one I was eaten by a spirit the size of a building. Every one of these deaths happened somehow and I get to experience them firsthand.”

“YOU KNEW!” roared David. “You knew how he’d died and didn’t tell me!”

“Yeah, I saw her stab her father in the chest. Now she’s living next door. I’m a little fucked over that,” growled Morrison. “Why should I have told you? Trying to stop it only makes things worse. What do you think would have happened had you somehow, by some fucking miracle, stopped her from killing him? How would you have done it?”

David didn’t even get a chance to answer before Morrison answered for him, “You would have killed her like you tried to the other day when you found out she was involved. You understand what would’ve happened next?”

Again, David wasn’t given a chance to answer, “All he would have cared about is that you killed his daughter and then we’d have two packs right next to us that would want us dead. All this because you’re not only fucking stupid, but also impulsive and never think anything through.”

“The last thirty years since I knew him as a pup I knew exactly how he was going to die,’ said Morrison, snatching the whiskey out of David’s hand. “At the time I didn’t know who the girl was, just that she was gonna stab him with a silver blade. I didn't know the context until I saw her grow up. I still didn’t have any context.”

He asked “You know how many times I’ve tried to stop these visions?”

Lucas, David, and Kaiden shook their headsheads.

“Thirty damn times,” answered Morrison. “Every member of every pack.”

“Dixie knew what she was doing when she dumped you on me,” said Morrison before chugging the bottle of whiskey. “Now I’m forced to care.”

“That’s why you tried to break me and Colin up?” asked David. “He’s involved?”

“Morrison shook his head, “Maybe maybe not. I’m not going to tell you. Trying to stop makes shit worse. I just told you what happens when you do.”

“You possibly making an Unihar is still something I don’t want to risk,” added Morrison.

Lucas spoke up, “This happened to every Uratha? So you knew how Joseph Talbot would die?”

Morrison nodded, “Yeah, I knew he’d explode but didn’t understand how. Just that he woke up screaming and blew up. I knew they lied about the cause of death.”

“About the other talbots,” he said, "You may not have realised it but I avoid meeting any new Uratha. I managed to avoid being in the same room as any of the talbots until two years ago when I got cornered by Wilhelm and a couple members of his pack. I don't know which one they applied to cause they didn’t all have the same vision. But three had the same. A large battle with a Forsaken in Gauru. Three got torn apart by the same Forsaken. Me.”

All three raised their eyebrows in surprise at their elder’s vision.

“The problem was, the killer, me, was pretty badly beat up and was surrounded by the rest of the pack. I’m gonna go down with a blaze of glory,” he said with a sudden excitement.

He continued, “That was my plan. Go out in a blaze of glory on my hundredth birthday, destroy the Talbot pack. It’d be easier for whoever inherited my territory to manage it if half of Talbot’s pack was dead.”

He pointed towards the Den with the now empty whiskey bottle, “I left the notes, built the house for a new pack from Vegas. But Dixie ruined it by showing up early.”

Morrison then started crawling around the bed, searching for another bottle that may have still had alcohol, “I was gonna go out in a blaze of glory worthy of the gibbous moon.”

Seeming to give up on his hunt, he rolled onto his back and put a pillow over his face.

“When’s your birthday?” asked Lucas.

Morrison threw the bottle he was still holding at Lucas’ head who dodged by only slightly tilting his head, letting the bottle shatter on the wall.

Hanging on the wall David saw a calendar with several days of the current month, May, marked. He walked up to it and flipped it to June. On June eleventh a star was drawn and the full moon highlighted. A single word was written on it.

Perfect

Nothing else was written or marked in the calendar after that.

David tore the calendar off the wall and tossed it to Lucas, “A month away.”

Lucas looked at the calendar and asked, “So you’re not planning on killing yourself anymore?”

“Just go away,” said Morrison from underneath the pillow.

Lucas got up close to the elder and started berating him with questions, “How do the mechanics of these visions work? You see it through their eyes but how long does it last? What about other senses? Can you smell and hear?”

The stream of questions continued and Morrison started to growl. He tore the pillow off his face and snarled directly in Lucas’ face, “Get the fuck out of here!”

Feeling they overstayed their non-existent welcome, the three quickly did as they were told.

As they were leaving, Morrison called out to Kaiden, “You’re lucky you just got the normal visions. You’d think knowing how your friends are gonna die is a blessing. But it fucking sucks. The knowing is torture.”

The trio met back up with the others in the den at the dining table and told them what they learned.

“So we’re all gonna die,” said Tsu’mara. She dismissively threw up her hands, “Woopty doo.”

“I figured that out on day one,” said Jesse. “I just didn’t tell anyone.”

“Cause of course he fucking did,” said David, rubbing his shoulder as Colin slapped it.

“It was none of my business,” said Jesse. “I know when to shut up.”

“Doubt that,” said Kaiden and David in unison.

Lucas spoke up, “We all assumed we weren’t going to live long like Howlmore did.”

“My parents did,” said Colin. He then asked Lucas, “Elder Morrison let you see him like that?”

“Yeah?” answered David, confused as to why Colin was focusing on that.

“He’s a Storm Lord,” answered Colin, seeing David’s confusion. “Their tribal oath is Nu Si Gid Namtar. Allow No One to Witness or Tend Your Weakness.”

Colin shook his head in disbelief, “He must really care for us for him to break his tribal oath and let you see him like that.”

“Or really drunk,” said Kaiden. “What were we doing before this pleasant subject?”

“The treasure hunt for the mages,” answered Lucas. “Do we leave Jessica with Gabby when we leave?”

“She’s a nurse from an asylum,” said David. “She can handle a teenager.”

Kaiden added, “If she wants to leave there’s nothing that can stop her.”

***

The pack met the mages at Boothill Cemetery later that night, with Morrison who had cleaned up since his drunken mourning the earlier morning. To the point that only the ones that saw him in that state were able to tell he was ever in it to begin with.

Poe approached Morrison and said in a formal tone, “First we need your permission to call forth Keeper-of-Boots to present him with his offering.”

Morrison rolled his eyes and waved his hand at Poe, “Fine, go ahead. No funny business.”

Poe nodded and had everyone gather in a circle around the gravestone locus. Poe and the other mages then started chanting in their unnerving, static sounding High Speech.

After several minutes of the arcane ritual, the pack felt the Gauntlet ripple as an intense presence exuding death crossed it into the Mundane. No one could see it, at first, but David and Lucas blinked, their eyes turning gold, and Alice muttered something under her breath.

To them, a robed figure was looming over them. A skull with flaming wicks for eyes and bullets for teeth floated in the robe’s hood. A bandolier of old, archaic ammo was across its chest, and on its back was a man sized crucifix that was aflame with spectral violet and indigo flames.

Keeper-of-Boots.

Prompted by Alice showing him where Keeper was, Poe presented the shoe box containing Elvis Presley’s old combat boots.

To him, and the rest of the pack and mages who weren’t peering into the Twilight, the box’s lid seemed to flip off on its own and the boots floated out, hung in the air for a moment before disappearing.

David, Lucas, and Alice saw Keeper physically pick the boots up out of the box, look them over before putting them into its cloak.

The otherwise invisible spirit turned towards the two Ithaeur and nodded.

It said in the First Tongue in a hoarse, strangled voice like a man trying to speak through a noose, “It is… acceptable.”

Keeper then turned away and floated towards the edge of the graveyard. The Ithaeur and Alice followed, with the rest scrambling to follow the three’s lead.

The group was taken to the Eastern edge of the cemetery to another headstone marked as Judy Raskin, who had died in 1907.

The pack stood aside and offered no help as the mages started digging up the grave. Poe did most of the work. Not because the other mages were slacking off, but because of the speed at which he did so. It surprised the pack, given the man’s scrawny build and lack of magic being used to do it.

“Someone has a little too much experience,” noted Kaiden.

After a short while the mages uncovered, six feet down, a plain pine box. The top of it was badly rotted but was still intact enough to have to pry it off.

With a fair bit of strain from the mages the rusted latches popped off and revealed a complete set of human remains.

Poe stayed in the grave as the others climbed out. He knelt into the casket and clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Ah well. That’s a problem,” he said.

He climbed out of the grave holding the skeleton’s skull and pelvis, he said, “The age is right.”

He held the skull and pelvis out for everyone to see, “The problem is, this is a woman. Not Andrew Cannon.”

He presented the bones to Keeper, “I’m sure you’re well aware, this pelvis is far too wide, and jaw far too smooth. These are the remains of a woman. It’s not the grave we’re looking for.”

Keeper responded so that all could hear, and the voice set the pack on edge. Instead of its usual strangled whisper, it was harsh, and grating. Like claws against stone. “This is the mortal that was buried with the headstone. This is the correct body. This is the body of A Cannon. The one buried whom you sought. This concludes our deal. If your information was flawed, that is your own problem to deal with, not mine.”

The Gauntlet rippled as Keeper crossed back over to the Spirit World.

Nothing was said for several long moments, everyone too worried that any word could bring Keeper back to strike back at them. It was eventually broken by Alice, saying, “All this effort. Why was the body buried in the wrong place?”

Kevin spoke up, “If this is the grave of A Cannon, it can’t be his wife. Her name was Charlotte.”

“Could be their child,” Alice thought out loud.

“No,” said Poe, shaking his head. “It doesn’t fit the timeline. This was buried in the late nineteen-twenties. They didn’t have children during the Civil War.”

“So,” said Lucas interjecting, noticing that no one else in the pack was going to say anything, “They use the wrong name. Maybe someone else hid Cannon’s body. Switched it at the funeral.”

Poe simply shrugged, “Let us find out who this is in the first place. Now. Everyone quiet.”

He climbed back down into the grave to return the pelvis but kept the skull. He placed it on the ground outside the grave and put his left index and middle finger on the skull’s temple, and the right index and middle finger on his own.

Before he could utter a single syllable of High Speech, the sharp electric bite of static filled the air and every hair on Poe’s body stood on end.

There was only a fraction of a fraction of a second to react. Most of the pack jumped back, but David’s first and only reaction was to pull Colin close and put himself between the mage and his Wolf-blood.

There was a blinding flash that turned night to day, followed instantly with a deafening crack of thunder that blasted outwards and tore at their clothes and hair.

David looked down at Colin, checking that he was alright. Colin’s eyes were scrunched shut and had his hands clapped over his ears, with his fingers rapidly drumming the back of his head. He was trying desperately to get rid of ringing in his ears the same way he showed David when they first properly met what felt like a lifetime ago.

“POE!” screamed Annabelle before running over to the grave.

Inside the grave, the casket was smouldering but the bones were untouched. Poe was inside as well, knocked prone, singed and burned but still alive, coughing.

Annabelle and Alice pulled Poe out of the grave where Alice healed his burns with a spell.

“Man there are powerful wards on this grave,” said Poe before breaking out into more coughs. “A very powerful mage put a lot of work into protecting this grave.”

The mage then all started typing in the air, their finger tips glowing and leaving after images of headache inducing glyphs and sigils in the air.

“Wow,” said Alice, “There are heavy blocks on all attempts to turn back time. All Fates are completely blocked.”

Kevin spoke up, “Space magic is completely blocked. It’s an extremely powerful ward.”

The mages were extremely concerned by what they found and continued to probe the wards surrounding the grave.

David left them to their investigation and went to approach the grave.

A hand grabbed his arm. Colin’s.

“No. Don’t,” he said, concerned.

David looked down at his mate and simply said, “Trust me.”

Colin let go of his hand with a nod.

David approached the grave with an unusual confidence. He couldn’t describe it but some deep, primal instinct assured him that he wouldn’t be harmed like Poe was for what he was about to do. All he knew was that he was doing what he felt was right. Just like Colin taught him.

Poe continued talking. None of the mages noticed David drop down into the grave. “Even death magic is blocked.”

David knelt down and grabbed a phalange from the skeleton’s foot and bit down on it. it. The moment the bone cracked between his teeth a memory came to him that wasn’t his own but felt as if it was.

***

He was standing before a man sitting at a desk reading a large, ancient looking tome. The tome’s pages were filled with unintelligible looping scratching on the parchment. The room was lit by an oil lamp.

“I don’t want this, Andrew!” he pleaded in a voice that wasn’t his own to the man at the desk. “I don’t want this ‘gift’. It’s unnatural.”

He reached out to Andrew, putting a hand on their shoulder. But it wasn’t his hand. It was a woman’s. “I understand if you want to use the fruits of your labor to live forever. That’s your choice. But I want to grow old and die so I can see our little girl again.”

Andrew placed a gentle hand over the feminine hand on his shoulder, “Charlotte. Please. It’s-”

David ripped his hand back and snapped, “No. I’m done with you grasping for more.”

He harshly slapped his chest as he gestured to himself, tears blurring his vision, “Am I not enough for you? Can you please stop obsessing over what else you could have?”

Andrew sighed and closed the tome he was reading, keeping his hand on it. He stood up from the desk and approached David, his hand lingering on the tome before falling away.

“Okay. I’ll give this up. For you.” he said, taking David’s hands. “I’ll take you to your favourite spot in the valley tomorrow evening so we can watch the sunset. Like we used to.”

David remembered the ridge overviewing the town they used to visit when they first came to the small, burgeoning town, and smiled at the prospect.

***

David shook his head and shuddered at the experience of experiencing Charlotte’s memory from her perspective.

The mages were still busy probing wards around the body. Poe had a look of grave concern on his face, “Half the arcanum is blocked. This is almost archmage levels of power.”

David’s face twisted into an extraordinarily smug smirk.

Kaiden spoke up, getting the mage’s attention, “Maybe we can find some paperwork at the town archives?”

Morrison shook his head, “Those archives were destroyed in a part of a renovation from a water leak.”

Poe sighed, shaking his head. “Fate magic. Extremely subtle.”

Kaiden thought for a moment before saying, “If there were wolves in the area, then someone would’ve kept record.”

Morrison shook his head, “That’s not a given. It’d be a whole rabbit hunt on its own.”

It was then when he noticed David’s smug look. He rolled his eyes and told the mages, “Are you witches gonna keep squabbling or you gonna let Madhouse tell you what he found out?”

The mages gave various sounds of annoyance when they saw David’s smugness.

“So much for your mage magic being so powerful.” David said with an infuriating smugness. He saw Colin covering their mouth to hide a smirk and keep themselves from laughing, and decided to rub it in the mages’ faces even more. “Turns out that Uratha magic can get right around those wards that had you lot stumped like they weren't even there.”

He pointed at the open grave. The memory of Charlotte’s argument with Andrew wasn’t the only memory he got from gnawing on her phalange, it was just the most vivid and complete. “That’s Anna Cannon. She went by her middle name; Charlotte.”

“Shit,” said Alice, slapping her forehead. “Why didn’t we check that she used a different name?”

“It’s not a common thing to do,” said Annabelle.

“Not common,” agreed Alice. “Except like how we use Shadow Names or-”

She pointed at Morrison and David.

“-Or Uratha Deed Names.”

Annabelle nodded in agreement. She then nervously turned to David and asked, “What else did your magic uncover from her body?”

David recited the memory he experienced. The moment he mentioned the tome that Andrew was reading the mages’ faces paled.

“Shit…” said Alice, her voice low with dread. “Not only did he have the book. But he used it. Possibly still using it.”

Morrison glared at the mages, “What did Madhouse figure out for you?”

Annabelle took a deep breath before explaining, “You know how we’re looking for a vault full of stolen magic treasure? One of the most valuable artifacts is a lost copy of the Book of Life. Capable of giving the reader immortality. Only twelve were made, most lost to history. They were made in the mid eighteen-hundreds. It’s quite likely that Andrew Cannon is still alive and this isn’t a hunt for a long dead thief but a hunt for a still living thief.”

Alice gestured to the grave, “It explains why the wards are so damn powerful. It’s likely that Cannon had accrued quite a lot of power since then and is quite close to being Arch Mage in power. That is not good.”

She paced around in thought for a moment before saying, “If I had to guess, judging by the strength of the wards, he’s a master of six of the ten Arcanums. Poe’s only a master in one, a first degree master, and I’m not a master at all but close to it.”

Annabelle gestured to Poe and Alice, “And these two are considered two of the most powerful in the Vegas Caucus. There aren’t many mages that have mastered that many.”

Poe spoke up, “Not since Atlantis have mages mastered that many. This is an exceptionally powerful mage.”

Morrison threw a hand up in the air in frustration, “Great. So this asshole is the equivalent to an idigam.”

“I’m not familiar with that term,” said Poe, confused. The rest of the mages were equally confused.

The Pack was not. The elder’s comparing of the rogue mage to an idigam had them gravely silent.

Idigam were spirits that represented concepts that existed before the world was fully formed, long before the Gauntlet and far before even the Border Marshes that the Gauntlet replaced with the Murder of Father Wolf. They had no clear analogs in the physical world and as such had no place in it. They were beings of such horrible power that they were virtually impossible to kill and had to be sealed for all time under the surface of the Moon under the eternal panopticon of Mother Luna.

The first time that they escaped Mother Luna’s imprisonment, a date all Uratha knew all too well, was the Twentieth of July, Nineteen Sixty-Nine.

When humanity first set foot on the Moon.

Each following Moon Landing also brought Idigam back, as well as other probes since then. Some Idigam figured out how to send themselves by radio-wave in the decades after the landings, and the most recent escapee was from the Indian moon lander. That’s why India had some many problems with it.

It was only by sheer dumb luck that only a handful escaped. But of that handful only one was killed, in Colorado, which was only possible due to the sacrifice of hundreds of Forsaken that gave their lives in order to exploit the foul spirit’s Bane.

Morrison waved his hand, dismissing the mages’ questions, “Never mind. What do we do now?”

“Wny don’t we clean up this grave and head to the diner to figure out what to do next?”

“Sounds good,” said Morrison, turning away and walking off. “We’ll wait for you there.”

The Pack started following him which made Alice speak up and ask, “You’re not going to help?”

“No.” said Morrison.