complicated spells with a lot of conditions and variables and parallel actions, it's a lot better just to script it out instead of going old-school and spending a day or so chanting out the entire thing."
"You can do any spell just by programming it?" I asked.
"Not exactly. Some spells require blood or bits of DNA, depending on what you're doing. And rituals usually have to be done the long way."
"Is the death mark something you could do with a scripted spell?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. I'll have to study it and see if I can reverse engineer it." Shelton pointed at the code on the screen. "Without the variables for your mom's spells, I won't be able to figure them out. Not without a lot of time and effort."
"And you have no idea what they do?"
"Actually, I think I know what this one does." He traced the last line in the code where a line of unfamiliar words were on the screen. "This spell is designed for mass murder."
Chapter 6
I staggered back a step, feeling an almost physical blow in my chest. My mom wanted to kill people? I couldn't imagine it being even remotely possible. My mom would never kill anyone, would she?
"What are you talking about in there?" Dad asked from the other room.
"Looking for some spells to help you out," I said, not wanting him to know about this just yet. I didn't want to have this particular conversation in front of the others. I leaned down to look at the computer screen again. "Can you find out what the missing runes are?"
Shelton shook his head. "Reverse engineering runes is a skill in and of itself. I have a friend who could do it, given enough time. And he might also be able to help me with the death mark."
"Will he help?"
"Oh, he loves this kind of stuff." Shelton emailed the guy's name and address to me. "Just make sure you tell him TP sent you." His face reddened slightly.
"TP?"
"Don't ask. I would call him and tell him you're coming except he doesn't use email or a cell phone."
I glanced at the guy's name, Mr. Smith. How original . "How does he communicate with anyone?"
"By mouth. He's kind of a conspiracy nut, but don't let that scare you off."
I laughed. By my new standards, conspiracy nuts ranked pretty low on the scary scale. "You sure he's still at this address?"
"Oh, that's not his home address. That's where he goes to buy comic books. A place called Trader Mike's."
"Are you telling me to wait around a comic book store until he shows?"
"Yeah. Just look for a medium-sized guy, dark hair, pale skin, about my age." Shelton pulled up a webpage and ran his finger down a schedule. "The latest edition of Clubfoot comes out tomorrow, so he'll be there. Back in the day he used to show up first thing in the morning and wait until they opened shop so he could snag a copy."
" Clubfoot doesn't sound like a very interesting comic book superhero."
"The main character is more of an anti-hero, truth be told."
"As in, he's kind of a jackass?"
"More like he murders people for sport."
I grimaced. "I guess there's no accounting for taste."
"You got that right."
Shelton pulled my mom's files back up and looked at them. I scanned through the lines of code. A few symbols repeated regularly along with a bunch of if-then statements. "Tell me this, Shelton. Could anyone take your smartphone and execute a spell on it? Make it work?"
"I really should put you through some lessons. Maybe it'd stop you from asking stupid questions."
"For crying out loud. Can't you just answer my question?"
He sighed and swiveled the computer chair to face me. "Smartphones aren't magic. Wands and staffs aren't magic. They're just focal points for the magic to work through. When I execute a spell, I have to run magic through the focus with my will and intent to make it do anything. I built micro-generators for my foci that can amp up the magical juice. And before you ask, no, the micro-generators don't
"You can do any spell just by programming it?" I asked.
"Not exactly. Some spells require blood or bits of DNA, depending on what you're doing. And rituals usually have to be done the long way."
"Is the death mark something you could do with a scripted spell?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. I'll have to study it and see if I can reverse engineer it." Shelton pointed at the code on the screen. "Without the variables for your mom's spells, I won't be able to figure them out. Not without a lot of time and effort."
"And you have no idea what they do?"
"Actually, I think I know what this one does." He traced the last line in the code where a line of unfamiliar words were on the screen. "This spell is designed for mass murder."
Chapter 6
I staggered back a step, feeling an almost physical blow in my chest. My mom wanted to kill people? I couldn't imagine it being even remotely possible. My mom would never kill anyone, would she?
"What are you talking about in there?" Dad asked from the other room.
"Looking for some spells to help you out," I said, not wanting him to know about this just yet. I didn't want to have this particular conversation in front of the others. I leaned down to look at the computer screen again. "Can you find out what the missing runes are?"
Shelton shook his head. "Reverse engineering runes is a skill in and of itself. I have a friend who could do it, given enough time. And he might also be able to help me with the death mark."
"Will he help?"
"Oh, he loves this kind of stuff." Shelton emailed the guy's name and address to me. "Just make sure you tell him TP sent you." His face reddened slightly.
"TP?"
"Don't ask. I would call him and tell him you're coming except he doesn't use email or a cell phone."
I glanced at the guy's name, Mr. Smith. How original . "How does he communicate with anyone?"
"By mouth. He's kind of a conspiracy nut, but don't let that scare you off."
I laughed. By my new standards, conspiracy nuts ranked pretty low on the scary scale. "You sure he's still at this address?"
"Oh, that's not his home address. That's where he goes to buy comic books. A place called Trader Mike's."
"Are you telling me to wait around a comic book store until he shows?"
"Yeah. Just look for a medium-sized guy, dark hair, pale skin, about my age." Shelton pulled up a webpage and ran his finger down a schedule. "The latest edition of Clubfoot comes out tomorrow, so he'll be there. Back in the day he used to show up first thing in the morning and wait until they opened shop so he could snag a copy."
" Clubfoot doesn't sound like a very interesting comic book superhero."
"The main character is more of an anti-hero, truth be told."
"As in, he's kind of a jackass?"
"More like he murders people for sport."
I grimaced. "I guess there's no accounting for taste."
"You got that right."
Shelton pulled my mom's files back up and looked at them. I scanned through the lines of code. A few symbols repeated regularly along with a bunch of if-then statements. "Tell me this, Shelton. Could anyone take your smartphone and execute a spell on it? Make it work?"
"I really should put you through some lessons. Maybe it'd stop you from asking stupid questions."
"For crying out loud. Can't you just answer my question?"
He sighed and swiveled the computer chair to face me. "Smartphones aren't magic. Wands and staffs aren't magic. They're just focal points for the magic to work through. When I execute a spell, I have to run magic through the focus with my will and intent to make it do anything. I built micro-generators for my foci that can amp up the magical juice. And before you ask, no, the micro-generators don't
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