and a push, pulling the wrist down, pushing the elbow up, against its joint, twisted awkwardly for the man, centimeters from breaking his elbow, making him dance in pain at the end of her grip.
He was shouting something, something she couldn't quite understand. She doubted he knew exactly what he was shouting, himself, but it sounded something like an apology, something like a surrender, and she let him go. He fell back, clutching at his arm, amazed at the pain that had almost receded but not quite. She knew from experience the arm would be sore, a memory of pain running up and down it and into his brain, a memory of helplessness that would be even more terrible than the pain, the knowledge that she could have done anything to him.
For herself, she had never used it to quite that extent before, used it on someone who hadn't expected it already, and the fear in his eyes, the fear of someone being hit with that when they hadn't been expecting it, that scared her. It scared her what she could have done.
The small metal … whatever … that the Native American man had taken from the thug shimmered and lifted into the air from where he had dropped it in the disabling pain Tracy had inflicted on him. It floated in front of her, spinning slowly in the light refracted through the mists.
“Awwww, geeeeze,” groaned the man. “I just won that!” He sighed and gestured at her. “Go on, take it.”
Tracy wasn't sure what else to do. The small metal diamond floated there, glittering, majestic despite its simple shape, as majestic as only those things that defy the laws of physics can be. It just … hung there in mid-air, as if thumbing its nose at the universe, waiting for her to claim it.
So she did.
Her fingers closed slowly around the smooth, cool metal, and it shifted and grew a little smaller in her palm, shrinking a bit in size until, she noticed, it was the same size as the one on the mystery bracelet about her wrist.
“What do I do with it?” she whispered. Somewhere in the back of her brain, the screaming heebie jeebies threatened to send her running, shrieking, down the street from this violation of reality, but there was also a childlike sense of wonder that was shouting over the panic. This is awesome !
“You use it. I guess you clip it onto your … charm bracelet? And keep it for when you need it.” He looked down as Nameless licked lightly at his wrist, looking concernedly up at him, then walked over to twine around Tracy's ankles.
“What do you mean?” she asked, even as her hands followed his suggestion. The charm was a small diamond marked with a jagged line suggesting a mountain. She thought of what he had said when he picked it up. Earth. The tremors as the boy walked. What if it wasn't her imagination? It was impossible, of course, but … but then, it had been floating in mid-air, waiting for her to take it. Impossible was relative just at the moment. The charm that was already there had the shape of a cat's head, and had two different sigils on it. One was soft curving wisps, suggesting a cloud … perhaps air … while the other side had a trio of wavy lines that could only mean water.
“It's a token. It's concentrated magic. Congratulations, you're in the secret group of people who can't live a normal life because these things popped in on us,” he grumbled bitterly. “Look, I'll be happy to answer all your questions and fill you in on what's going on, but can we get out of the cold and wet? This weather's quite impossible. Is your place nearby?”
Tracy stared at him. The man was so casual about this, so casual despite having just been in a fight - two fights, actually, one won and one lost…
“No …” she murmured, softly, those panicky jitters suddenly swelling up.
“Ah, rats, well, then-” he began to reply as he picked himself up off the concrete.
“NO!” she cried, louder, and her feet were moving, fleeing, running,
He was shouting something, something she couldn't quite understand. She doubted he knew exactly what he was shouting, himself, but it sounded something like an apology, something like a surrender, and she let him go. He fell back, clutching at his arm, amazed at the pain that had almost receded but not quite. She knew from experience the arm would be sore, a memory of pain running up and down it and into his brain, a memory of helplessness that would be even more terrible than the pain, the knowledge that she could have done anything to him.
For herself, she had never used it to quite that extent before, used it on someone who hadn't expected it already, and the fear in his eyes, the fear of someone being hit with that when they hadn't been expecting it, that scared her. It scared her what she could have done.
The small metal … whatever … that the Native American man had taken from the thug shimmered and lifted into the air from where he had dropped it in the disabling pain Tracy had inflicted on him. It floated in front of her, spinning slowly in the light refracted through the mists.
“Awwww, geeeeze,” groaned the man. “I just won that!” He sighed and gestured at her. “Go on, take it.”
Tracy wasn't sure what else to do. The small metal diamond floated there, glittering, majestic despite its simple shape, as majestic as only those things that defy the laws of physics can be. It just … hung there in mid-air, as if thumbing its nose at the universe, waiting for her to claim it.
So she did.
Her fingers closed slowly around the smooth, cool metal, and it shifted and grew a little smaller in her palm, shrinking a bit in size until, she noticed, it was the same size as the one on the mystery bracelet about her wrist.
“What do I do with it?” she whispered. Somewhere in the back of her brain, the screaming heebie jeebies threatened to send her running, shrieking, down the street from this violation of reality, but there was also a childlike sense of wonder that was shouting over the panic. This is awesome !
“You use it. I guess you clip it onto your … charm bracelet? And keep it for when you need it.” He looked down as Nameless licked lightly at his wrist, looking concernedly up at him, then walked over to twine around Tracy's ankles.
“What do you mean?” she asked, even as her hands followed his suggestion. The charm was a small diamond marked with a jagged line suggesting a mountain. She thought of what he had said when he picked it up. Earth. The tremors as the boy walked. What if it wasn't her imagination? It was impossible, of course, but … but then, it had been floating in mid-air, waiting for her to take it. Impossible was relative just at the moment. The charm that was already there had the shape of a cat's head, and had two different sigils on it. One was soft curving wisps, suggesting a cloud … perhaps air … while the other side had a trio of wavy lines that could only mean water.
“It's a token. It's concentrated magic. Congratulations, you're in the secret group of people who can't live a normal life because these things popped in on us,” he grumbled bitterly. “Look, I'll be happy to answer all your questions and fill you in on what's going on, but can we get out of the cold and wet? This weather's quite impossible. Is your place nearby?”
Tracy stared at him. The man was so casual about this, so casual despite having just been in a fight - two fights, actually, one won and one lost…
“No …” she murmured, softly, those panicky jitters suddenly swelling up.
“Ah, rats, well, then-” he began to reply as he picked himself up off the concrete.
“NO!” she cried, louder, and her feet were moving, fleeing, running,
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