A golden light fluttered outside.
"Looks like we have another crisis." I nodded at the window.
His eyes narrowed. "Another outbreak.”
"Yup. Let's roll."
It was the same goggled sprite. Its aura flickered as it spoke. "Not much time is left," it proclaimed. "The air spirit is nearly out of mana and must recharge soon." The sprite gave us the location where a new gremlin outbreak was underway.
"What about you?" I asked.
"I will cease to be soon," the sprite said, voice small. "I do not wish to dissipate, but that is my fate."
The sprite was a level three manifestation, so a permanent one. But too much magic in too short a time could dissipate any manifestation short of a level five, an ancient.
"I don't understand," Tully said. "You should be able to restore yourself."
"There is not enough mana nearby for me to be able to do that.”
I wished there was something we could do, but it would take a great deal of time and energy to restore the sprite, and we had neither.
I blinked my suddenly watery eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I existed.” The sprite’s voice was frail now. I could see through the tiny body now. “The template I sprang from will continue. Another will be born.” It collapsed in a tiny heap and faded away until nothing remained.
I lifted my chin, looked at Tully. “We need to get to the bottom of what is going on before more damage is done.”
He returned my determined look with one of his own.
Chaos cavorted at a tiny strip mall on the east side of the city. The stores lined up along a well-maintained parking lot, the white lines fresh and crisp. Of course, a marijuana dispensary wouldn’t choose a seedy strip mall to set up shop. Even the Digital Palace Electronics store looked like it did good business.
Tully parked across the street. The LCD screen on the strip mall marquee flashed blue and showed gremlins dancing through a store.
“Cheeky jerks,” I muttered, peering into the night to see if I could make them out.
There was lots of action at the strip mall. The stores had closed for the night, but they were open for business now, so to speak.
A crowd of people milled around outside. Ordinaries. A big man in a hoodie appeared from the electronic store, hauling a big screen TV. Right behind him came a string of people hauling more TVs, laptops, speakers. The marijuana shop also had people coming out, carrying bags of weed. Looters also pranced out of the wine shop holding bottles and laughing.
I glanced at the sign again. Still looking weird.
The jewelry store lights strobed redly. But, the looters ignored the store.
Faint silver flashes came from inside the jewelry store.
I glanced at Tully. He peered at the store, face tight with concentration.
“Three gremlins inside, and something else. Something that moves very fast, is wrapped in shadow, and…” His voice trailed off.
“And what?” I asked. “Why can’t you tell what sort of manifestation this is?”
“The gremlins are making it difficult to get a fix on the other creature.” His brows furrowed. “I can barely see the gremlins.”
“Why are the looters ignoring the jewelry store?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’m having a tough time making out the arcane in that store.”
We had an insta-mob of looters running riot next door to a shop being rifled by an unknown manifestation, and gremlins messing with Tully’s magical sight and stuff in general.
“We’ve got to put a stop to the magical mayhem before the cops arrive,” I said.
Tully shook his head. “I can’t believe you put it that way.”
“What other way is there to put it?” I replied. “Come on!” I heaved open the Continental’s door and strode across the street toward the tree-lined mall parking lot.
“Hold on,” Tully called after me, his voice low and urgent. “We need to plan an approach!”
I crossed the street. “No time for that,” I replied over my shoulder. “We have to get these looters—"
I slammed into someone huddled against a tree planter on the sidewalk. I stumbled, and fell backwards, landing on my backside for the second time that night.
I yelped. The man I’d smacked into was sprawled on the cement.
How had I missed him standing there? Sure, it was dark, but he was right there.
Tully gave me a little head shake. He obviously thought I’d been in too big of a hurry.
I pushed myself off the ground. Tully passed me and bent over the man.
“Sir, are you okay?” he asked.
The man lay prone, motionless.
I knelt beside him. He had shoulder-length brown hair. His face was narrow, with a cleft chin. He wore a belted sweater jacket over a turtleneck.
I reached to help him up.
“Don’t touch me!” he cried, shoulder-length brown hair swinging as he squirmed away.
I snatched my hand back. “Sorry,” I said.
He slowly pushed himself up, looked at Tully and me, his narrow-set eyes widening. “What is going on?” he asked. “Who are you?”
I whipped out my omni-badge. “Sally Rodriguez, Portland Police.”
Tully’s eyebrows shot up. Okay, maybe we should just have gone with concerned fellow citizen.
The man finished standing up. He was a few inches shorter than Tully, so just under six feet tall. His face twitched. For an instant, something other than fear appeared in his eyes. Appraisal, maybe, or maybe it was just the adrenalin talking.
He looked at Tully, concern in his face. “Who are you?”
“Phil Jones, Portland Police. What’s your name, sir?” Tully asked, all professional politeness.
Loud clattering from the direction of the jewelry store interrupted the man’s answer.
His gaze darted in the direction of the echoing clangor. “Shouldn’t you stop the looting?” he asked, gesturing with his hands. Something heavy crashed in the parking lot, followed by human shouting.
Tully winced and rubbed his face.
“Are you all right, Officer?” The man asked Tully.
We had to move. Why were we talking with this man while gremlins ran amok?
“He’ll be fine,” I said, tugging at Tully’s sleeve. “Please keep your distance,” I told the frightened
