Chapter 5

Panoptes enlists the aid of an incorporeal creature to help him find Zoe

The Hunt Begins

Panoptes was becoming frustrated. If there was one thing he was good at, it was uncovering the hidden. He'd been given his name in the Cabal after discovering the location of several very sensitive and secret meeting places used by the ruling triumvirate. And so, he had anticipated a quick resolution to this entire problem when Mnemosyne had called him back at his hotel.

"Your report and the photocopies of the ritual instructions agree. This Winters was in the midst of summoning something of great personal power, and possibly quite dangerous," she'd begun without preamble. "The final sections of the summoning circle are likely still intact on the girl's body. She could be used to complete the ritual much more easily by someone else. It's possible she is possessed."

His pulse had quickened. Nothing pleased him like a hunt. "So, she's to be found, then?" 

"With utmost urgency. Protocol Chiron."

"Chiron? Are you sure? It's been more than a century."

"The council has deliberated. The vote was unanimous. This being must not be allowed free rein in a human host." Mnemosyne's smooth English voice was flat, her words clipped. "Failure could have disastrous consequences for the girl and her city."

"Understood," said Panoptes. His excitement at the hunt had been overwhelmed by the seriousness of his assignment.

That had been last night. He'd gone to the home of the dead magus again, and used his own abilities to awaken the echoes of the power that had been built in the abortive ritual. The resulting impressions had been a mishmash of stylistic "fingerprints." Comparing it to the much weaker echoes remaining around Winters' wards at his hidey-hole, Panoptes was able to isolate the dead man's influence. After four hours of meditation, he'd left Winters' house certain he had two distinct traces to follow.

One was almost certainly not human. The demon (so Panoptes' mind persisted in labeling the incorporeal being) would be easy to follow, if he could pick up the trail. The other trace was definitely human. Gifted, untrained, and young. Likely female. Unused to suffering before she fell into Winters' clutches. She would be harder to follow, but more likely to be found. Without training, she had no way to hide herself from him.

He'd cast his mind out over the sleeping city. It was a wide area to search; women and girls matching the impressions he'd gotten could literally be from anywhere in the area. Thankfully the police had confirmed that all of Winters' victims had been taken at or near their homes, all with the Twin Cities. After a full day of searching he had found no trace of either the woman or her probable demonic passenger.

The council rarely had to vote on anything, and never reached a unanimous accord. This sort of urgency would not wait for the sort of methodical search that Panoptes knew would find his quarry. He was going to be forced to take a page from Winters' playbook.

He pushed the hotel table and chairs against the walls as well as he could, creating a small but serviceable free area of floor. He took a rolled blue cloth from his luggage, and spread it out on the floor. It was decorated with the beginnings of a magic circle, as much as could be relied upon to be useful for most workings. He sat down in the middle of it with a candlestick, a box of slow-burning candles and another of white blackboard chalk. The chalk he used to complete the ritual circle to his satisfaction for the job at hand. Once completed, he tossed the box with its remaining sticks of chalk out of the circle and onto the full sized bed. There'd be no redrawing the circle once the ritual was complete. Breaking the circle would mean he'd failed.

Panoptes settled into a tailor's seat, and set a candle before his legs, taking care that none of his limbs crossed the curving plane of the diagram's inner circle. He lit the candle from a disposable lighter in his pocket, raised his hands to hover three inches or so to either side of the flame, and began to chant. As his concentration narrowed, the space around the candle flame began to darken. Before long, he was holding a ball of purest darkness, which obscured the candle's flame and absorbed all the light it cast.

He sat there, chanting, barely moving for twenty agonizing minutes. He was sure he'd failed this time, that his arms would not handle the strain. His hands and shoulders were shaking when a shape finally began to form on the other side of the room. It started as a non-descript smudge of darkness in the air, then slowly took shape. Four lean legs extended to the floor. Above one pair appeared a humped and massive pair of shoulders. Behind the other, a thick and curling tail. Finally a long snouted head grew from the shoulders. Its long teeth were a void of complete darkness against the shadowy blackness of its body, and its eyes were the dark red of smoldering coals.

What do you want of me, human? The voice was purely in Panoptes' head.

"I need you to find a woman. She is gifted, and I can share with you the taste of her magic. She may also be in the company of a demon."

There are many humans here. You expect me to search a city? What do you offer in return?

"I offer you light. I shall feed it to this darkness without pause until you finish your task, or three days, whichever comes last," he said.

The shadow beast stared at Panoptes for a few long seconds. Very well. But if you falter, I shall take your energy in its place.

"So be it," said Panoptes, sealing the bargain. "Here are the traces I have found of your quarry." Panoptes' trained and disciplined mind drew out the magical signature he had found in Winters' basement. He shuddered as the beast's mind touched his, cold and sharp.

I hunt!