of skin just to prove to the world that he wasn’t going soft.
We stood back and watched as Gideon looked over the dead woman from a distance. There was a slight tingle in the air from the warlock, using some smaller spells as if he were trying to rewind time to see the crime as it happened. After more than a minute, he shook his head as if to clear it and sighed.
“I’m not getting much,” he said with more than a little frustration.
“What about a tracking spell? The aura is still strong in the air,” I suggested.
“The aura? From the killer?” Serah quickly asked. She took a small step forward, her curiosity finally overcoming her fear.
“Gage isn’t referring to a person’s aura, but rather the energy left behind by the violent event,” Gideon responded evenly and I bit back a smile. There was just something in him that was a natural teacher. He couldn’t help himself. He had done it with me and now with Serah. It made me wish the man could get away from the guardians and mentor an apprentice or two.
“Really?” she said, sounding a little skeptical.
“The theory is that violent events, particularly those that lead to death create ripples in the magical energy around us,” Gideon explained. “With the right spell, that disruption, or aura, can be read to reveal what happened.” The warlock started to pat down his pockets as if he was looking for something.
With a smirk, I unzipped my coat and reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a handful of multicolored chalk. Gideon just stopped and stared at it for a moment in shock before looking up at me, his expression turning grim. “It’s a wonder you weren’t executed years ago.”
“You’re welcome,” I said as he picked up a purple chalk from the palm of my hand. He was right in so many ways, but now was not the time to get into it. I had a long habit of carrying chalk around for spells I wasn’t supposed to be doing in the first place, but it had gotten considerably worse since I’d been sucked into the guardians. Now I was doing magic whether I wanted to or not.
The warlock started drawing symbols on the sides of the buildings around where the woman had been killed. I wasn’t familiar with the spell, but I had heard of it. Gideon was attempting to create a type of magic bubble in which to rewind time. Within the bubble, he would replay the events, putting us solidly on the trail of the attacker. Judging by the symbols he was drawing, it was a complicated spell—one that certainly didn’t have a chance of replicating without a lot of help.
And yet, aspects of it looked similar to other things I had done and seen before. A part of me was dying to ask him about it, to pick his brain about this spell until I understood its every aspect, but I swallowed back the words and tamped down the excitement. Where Gideon was a natural teacher, I felt born to be a student of magic for the rest of my life. I wanted to learn everything I could about magic, but it wasn’t meant to be. For now, I had to content myself with picking up scraps of information any chance I could.
When he was finished, the warlock pushed a large chunk of energy into the symbols as he spoke the invocation. The air shimmered like fine diamond dust had been caught on the wind and was now reflecting the sunlight. Yet, as it clarified, everything within the bubble took on a slightly red hue. I turned back toward the mouth of the alley as I glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye in time to see the outline of the killer walking toward the street. It looked like she had been leaning up against the wall, waiting for her prey. The center of the figure was completely transparent so that her face was only a vague impression of features, but she looked to be the same shape and size as the creature that had appeared in my basement.
“What are you looking at?” Serah whispered, jerking my gaze back to her.
I frowned. Apparently only magic users could see the results of the spell. “Gideon has recreated a shadowy image of what happened. I’ll fill you in if I see anything helpful.”
“Well, this sucks,” Serah muttered, folding her arms over her chest as she