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He moves about the room, stopping at various desks, shelves, or sets of drawers. When he returns, he has several things held in his arms. It looks like a haphazard mess, but he somehow manages to set each artifact down individually without dropping any of it.
“Alright, loves, this is what we’ve got.”
He lifts the first object, smiling like a child at Christmas. It’s a tiny sterling silver vial hanging from a fine chain. It emits a faint white glow. “This pendant will prevent the hell hounds from tracking you. It contains dust from the wings of an angel. Repels the nasty dogs, though they will think you’re an angel and become quite incensed.” He leans over and hangs it around Ven’s neck. “Since you’re trapped in your magical bubble, one will certainly suffice in this case.”
“That’s amazing,” Ven says, her eyes widening in wonder.
“As you practically are an angel, it’s fitting you should wear it,” Fitz says, earning another blush.
He turns back to his pile. “Next up!”
The next artifact is a pair of what appear to be vintage reading glasses. Fitz lifts them and places them on my face. “These will show things enchanted with dark magic. Look toward those shelves over there.” He points across the room.
I turn my head and recoil in surprise. The bookshelf he pointed to is lit up like a fireworks show. All the objects pulsate a bright red or orange color.
“That’s my occult collection,” Fitz says with a wiggle of his fingers.
“So, the glasses can help us look for magical booby traps,” Ven says. “How cool.”
Next, Fitz lifts a dagger that appears to be made from bronze. The hilt is inlaid with sapphires and jade. “A knife that can cut through anything.”
“Anything?” Ven and I ask at the same time.
“Anything.” Fitz looks immensely pleased with himself.
He reaches down to the last thing on the table. It’s a small metal motorcycle figurine, about three inches across. It looks like a toy. As if reading my mind, Fitz says dramatically, “This is not a toy. It’s the cherry on top of your adventure toolkit.”
Gesturing for Ven to come closer, Fitz whispers something in her ear. A puzzled look crosses her face. Fitz lifts the motorcycle and throws it at the floor at the same moment that Ven says, “Grande!”
And in the next moment, a full-sized motorcycle is standing before us.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Fitz,” I say, shaking my head.
“Naturally, you say pequeña when you want it to go back to travel size,” Fitz says, looking rather pleased with himself. The motorcycle shrinks back down to its original size.
“Fantastic,” Ven says. “That should get us to those mountains in no time.”
“Oh, and don’t forget the map.” Fitz rolls it up and hands it to me.
“I’ll transfer you some money for all of this,” I say. Which I know will be a pretty penny.
Fitz waves a hand in my face. “You couldn’t afford it. I’d much rather you brought it all back, so that means you can’t go and die on me. Plus, I can see lovely Ven again after all this drama is over with. Consider it a loan.”
“You are very kind,” Ven says.
“Pish-posh, darling,” Fitz says. “This is just an old man’s way of living vicariously through you two daredevils. I do hope you find your friend and put an end to this foul business with the Night Guild. Practically right in my backyard!” He places a hand to his heart.
“Thanks, Fitz. You’re a good friend,” I say, patting him on the back.
He reaches out a hand and pulls me closer, leaning to whisper in my ear. “Ven is a once-in-a-lifetime woman, Ryder. Don’t flub this up.”
When he straightens, Ven shoots us a puzzled look, obviously wondering what was said, and Fitz pats her on the back. “Be safe, kids. I’ll see you soon.”
Ven straps the dagger in its sheath around her hips, and I place the magical glasses in my shirt pocket and carry the motorcycle. We wave goodbye to Fitz and walk outside. I say the command to grow the motorcycle to full-size again, then crank the engine and climb on. Ven slides on behind me, one hand clutching her angel pendant, the other wrapped around my waist.
We’re riding off to face hell hounds, magical boobytraps, and the most powerful supernatural crime bosses in Costa Rica.
But it’s Fitz’s whispered words that ring in my head.
