Unwritten Ramifications
Matthew Ryan Fischer
“I think we might be in trouble.”
“What gave it away?”
Artemis shrugged. “Probably the guards
at the door.”
“You always were astute,” replied Wyatt.
“Thank you, sir. That’s why you hire
me.”
“I thought I hired you because you
were a tremendously talented thief.”
“One of many reasons.”
“I was hoping that your fighting
skills were on par. Or perhaps that your ‘getting us out of prison cells’
skills were.”
“I can fight one, maybe two people? A
room full of people with pyrotechnic abilities? That seems more like your
territory.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I’m
more of a read your aura; spread the luck type of mage, BUT…”
“I wait with bated breath.”
“Oh no, that was it. I was hoping that
something would come up occur to me.”
“What about the pantheon of allies you’ve
been accumulating?”
“Well our most recent companions were
captured along with us. And I’m assuming they’re in another room near here. But
a pencil pusher and an antique book dealer don’t seem much like prison-breaking
fighters to me.”’
“What a negative way to talk about our
friends.”
“‘Our’? What are their names?”
Artemis was silent.
“My friends. But I take your point and
I’ll try to be kind when I try to think about how my life ended. Captured and
killed by book burners because none of us knew how to fight. Maybe in the next
life I’ll remember to develop better skills. Or better friends.”
“What about Alex? She’s still out
there. Can’t you cast some sort of contact spell and get the cavalry to arrive?”
“Alex…?”
“Your ex that isn’t so much ex but you
don’t like to talk about that.”
Wyatt stared at Artemis, thinking. He
formulated a thought, then paused, and thought some more.
Artemis misinterpreted the silence to
think Wyatt had a nugget of a plan and he got his hopes up. “You can do it,
right? You’ve got a way out.”
“Okay there’s not great way to start
this conversation… Who is Alex exactly?”
“Are you kidding? The woman you’ve
been on again off again with for the last dozen or so years. I met her when I
was working in Los Angeles. Sort of a LA Woman hippie chaos magick sort of
girl.”
“Does the name Cassie mean anything to
you? Cass or Cassandra?”
“I don’t think so. Should it?”
“I think we might be in trouble.”
“I just said that.”
“Yes, but now I really think it might
be true.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re talking about Alex, who I don’t
know. And you’ve never heard of Cassie. So that means we are royally fucked.
That book, that fucking book. God damn that book.”
“Please tell what you are talking
about.”
“I’m talking about reality fucking
reality being fucking changed because some asshole wrote something done on a
God damn piece of paper.”
“The book you and the pencil pusher
were looking for?”
“That or the one you stole or the one
that Arsonists burnt. Or another fucking book in the set. Those ancient fuckers
and their magic paper and ink. And all the little twists and turns along the way.”
“I still don’t understand what that
has to do with us and why you’re freaking out.”
“Because I DON’T KNOW ALEX! I was in
love with a woman named Cassandra. You met her. We all dug up some immortal
asshole you had buried and then gone drunk to try and forget the smell. And then
I moved to New Orleans and she eventually followed me there. Is any of that
ringing any bells?!”
“You never lived in Vegas?”
“Fuck! Fuck this history altering
prick! Someone is going to pay, someone is going to fucking pay. I swear if we
get out of this cell, I will make someone pay.”
“So let me get this straight. I
remember something and you remember something different. And it’s because of
the spells in one of the myriad books we’re dealing with.”
“Yes. You’re catching on.”
“And I know Alex and she’s with Lou at
his bar.”
“We left Cassie a manuscript to guard.
But yes, apparently your adoptive father Lou is still a shitty bartender. But
other than that, something very wrong has gone on with time and history.”
“We really are in trouble.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell
you.”
“But you’ve got a plan, right?”
“I’m working on it. Just give me some
time to think.”
Wyatt sat down to think and Artemis
stared at the door and wondered how he was going to pick a lock without any tools.
A bit of trouble indeed.
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