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“Protocol Tartarus.” AKA: everything has gone way past Hell and into the pit where the worst of the worst resides. “You’re going across multiple timelines and worlds. Be discrete, wear the bracelets.” One silver and one gold, they’ll hide the Rangers’ real forms and allow them to communicate with whoever – or whatever they need to. I pause a second, then add, “And if you need to break any laws to get the more dangerous creatures back…” I trail off, unable to actually give him an official order to do that without losing my job.
Zenin smiles slowly nevertheless. “Understood, ma’am.”
He disappears to round up the troops, and I drop my head into my hands. “Zeus’ hairy, sweaty balls,” I mutter. But hopefully, the Rangers will be discreet…
And fast.
Preferably collecting everything in time for the opening.
A Manticore on the Loose
BY G. CLATWORTHY
A Manticore on the Loose by G Clatworthy
Two strange men arrive at the Magical Liaison Office in Wales, asking about a lost manticore. Can Agent Jones find it before it causes any trouble?
Chapter One
I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned back in my chair before turning my attention to the two people seated in front of my desk. “So you’ve lost a manticore.”
One of them fidgeted with a gold bangle, one of two – the other silver, around their wrist. Magic emanated from it, and my hand went to the magic dampening cuff around my arm.
“We have discussed this already, Agent Jones.” The smaller one sighed. I frowned. My eyes told me that his lips didn’t quite match his speech, and it was giving me a headache.
My nostrils flared. They weren’t human, but they weren’t a supernatural race I’d encountered before either. Their scent held a whiff of brimstone mixed with something sweet.
“And you can’t tell me who you really are,” I said.
The large male blanched, but the smaller figure just twitched his lips and shook his head. I tapped my cuff again. Who was I to judge if they wanted to hide their true nature? My cuff was designed to hide my own abilities from those who could sense magic, after all.
“Or why you’re keeping a manticore despite them being a protected species.”
“We have all the relevant permits.”
“I’m sure you do.” I sighed. “And you’re certain it’s somewhere in Wales.” It was a stupid thing to say. Even if it was outside my jurisdiction, I’d help hunt it down. Manticores weren’t pets; they were dangerous creatures. A class five on the protected species register, ranking them as high, and as vicious, as the man-eating basilisk. Or, as I preferred to call them – dzraking dangerous. They were only permitted in named habitats that had the reserves to make sure they didn’t get out.
“We are.”
“But you’re not going to tell me how you know that.” It wasn’t a question. These two had shown up at the Magical Liaison Office with an urgent request but no real information other than there was a manticore running around Wales somewhere.
I leaned back in my chair and turned my glare up a notch. “I’ll make some calls, but until we get a more precise location, there’s not much I can do.” I didn’t like the idea of relying on a member of the public to call it in. Most mundanes – people without magical abilities were all right rubbing shoulders with dwarves and elves, but they got twitchy when monsters started walking down the street. That was where my team came in, trying to protect the balance between magical beings and mundanes without it devolving into a killing spree. But I didn’t have the resources to send people on a wild manticore hunt across all of Wales.
“But–”
I held up my hand to stop the protest. “Do you know how big Wales is?”
“Do you?”
I gave the little one a half-point of grudging respect, but if he thought he could outmanoeuvre me, he was wrong.
“Maxi, how big is Wales?” I asked.
The young human blinked up at us from behind the pile of motherboards on his desk. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, causing it to stick up in a mad professor style that sat at odds with his youthful round face. “About twenty-one thousand square kilometres give or take.”
I let out a low whistle. “Really?” That was big.
“Wales is often used as a unit of land measurement because it’s easily identifiable and–”
