Magnus

“We’ve just got word, sir.”

Magnus slowed his stride as he made his way through the ground floor of his mansion. His servants pushed away to the sides, holding trays of food and waiting for his go-ahead on the menu choice for that evening. A couple of old friends would be calling in on him, privileged to get Nancy’s firsthand account of the child Demigod and his potent weapon. Magnus wanted to make sure they knew an allegiance with him would grant them sought-after rewards.

First he’d need to prep Nancy. Whenever she spoke of the child, she sounded star-struck to the point of distraction. She needed a good lay, a new lust to obsess over. He was well equipped to thoroughly distract her, and for this, he’d make the effort.

“Go ahead,” he told Gracie, something like his right-hand woman.

She stopped in front of him in a soft pink dress, her hair in cute little curls, her expression pleasant. To look at her, one would never guess she had such a foul temper, incited at a moment’s notice and with very little rhyme or reason. She was responsible for the highest body count in the mansion, and fifty percent of them were Magnus’s staff. One could never tell when her smile would turn vicious and she’d brandish a knife. It kept the staff performing at optimal standards, not to mention on their toes. Those who died…well, magical Darwinism at its finest.

“I’ve confirmed that the Body Jumper was definitely Aaron’s, and has been killed,” she said.

Magnus lifted his eyebrows and turned his face a little, a silent directive to his head cook. The staff moved away to the kitchens. Magnus led the way out to the garden. It was monitored and protected from eavesdroppers, living and dead alike.

“Are you sure he’s been taken out?” Magnus said once they had some privacy.

“Killed yes, but the spirit has not been treated, apparently. It still wanders the living world. Aaron questioned the man himself. A powerful dark Djinn got to him. One of Kieran’s Six.”

Magnus bent to smell a particularly foul flower, something to clear his head. “The girl was not involved, then? Or else she is not aware she needs to dispose of the spirit so it cannot be used again?”

“She was gone from the building at that point, so no, she was not involved. I don’t know if she knows how to dispose of ordinary spirits. She handled Valens well enough, but as far as I’ve heard, she can only push people across the Line. She doesn’t trap them there. They are free to be called again.”

“It’s a wonder she is any use to the child Demigod at all with so little knowledge about her magic.”

“Yes, sir. I was thinking this exactly. We’ll rectify that soon. Amos is in position.”

Magnus clasped his hands behind his back and looked at a weeping tree. He’d known Aaron would insert himself into the situation, but he hadn’t known what angle he would take. Aaron was lazy at the best of times, but when he was moved to action, he was usually cunning and unpredictable. Or at least he had been in times of old, when there was more strife between Demigods. This time, it seemed Aaron was taking the blunt, obvious, and entirely too predictable approach. Known assassins? Going for the child after work in a public place? There was no finesse. It made things easier for Magnus.

Magnus pursed his lips in thought. He couldn’t very well announce he had a claim on the girl. Times had changed. Daughters were no longer bought and sold, traded to establish and form alliances. The other Demigods of Hades might step aside out of respect had she been a normal magical person, but she was a Spirit Walker, and he had publicly wiped out his children and heirs. The other Demigods would not want to see her in his hands.

So. Where did that leave him?

He relayed all of this to Gracie, his best sounding board.

“I don’t think our strategy needs to change overmuch,” she said, standing a little behind him. “Aaron wants the child gone so he can have access to the girl, same as us. But he doesn’t have anyone in his arsenal that can grab her once the child is out of the way. We do. As a Possessor, Amos is better than anyone Aaron could send for this job.”

Magnus had to concede the truth in that. A good Possessor was nearly as rare as a Spirit Walker, and although they were not equally feared, they should be. They could do exactly what their name said—assume control of another person, like the fairytales of demon possession.

There were limitations, of course. When a Possessor took over the body, the host stopped recording goings-on. They would wake with a black spot in their time table. One too large to be shrugged off as forgetfulness or daydreaming. If enough people experienced the same thing, they’d eventually trace the cause to the source. So a Possessor had to carefully plan out whom to possess and for how long.

Another problem in this situation was where to leave the body. A Possessor didn’t so much walk in the spirit world as zoom from one point to another. If it had an item belonging to its target, which was where Nancy’s chosen tutor would come in, Amos could leave his body in a safe location and inhabit the target’s body. When it came time to evacuate, Amos would zip back into his own skin. This was great for assassin jobs, since he could quickly leave the scene of the crime, but it wasn’t as easy when it came to kidnapping. He’d have to leave the girl with a trusted friend in order to assume his own skin, return to the girl, take out the friend, and then transport the girl to the next location. Magnus would probably need to orchestrate a bigger team for that. He’d work on that while Amos was taking care of the child Demigod.