"Sweet Noivapii, Andersson!" Tove shouted at the man who stepped through. "I nearly mistyped and I'm out of whiteout."
Andersson took a beat to look sheepish and before the urgency took over again.
"There's been a tram accident, Nilsson, you need to go," he said, walking over to Tove's desk. Tove didn't even bother looking up.
"Oh dear gods, Blom is on traffic duty, not me," she groaned. "Now get out of my face, I need to finish this--"
Andersson placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she stopped. Andersson was never gentle. No, he was brash and loud and always trying to provoke people around him and he was the opposite of gentle, why was his touch so soft. Tove finally turned to look up at him and she was terrified.
"Not to make a report," he said.
"Who--" Tove's voice died in her throat and she cleared it once. Twice. "Who got hit?"
~X~
Only once before had the hospital corridors felt so goddamn long; they always did when it was someone important. The last time had been nearly a decade ago, but that was a time Tove tried to not think about. There was distinct finality in these walls, a finality that was in all human beings, a finality that had come for her, though Tove could still not face that. Her fingers brushed against the braided bracelet on her left wrist, but she pulled her hand away decisively. She hastened her steps, echoes of footsteps in her ears.
When has she become so important to me anyway? Tove wondered. It had only been a few weeks. She stopped in front of door 4013 and knocked.
Alaia was sitting in a bed, several pillows propped against the headboard that she was leaning on. She looked up from her lap as Tove opened the door as gently as she could.
"Oh, hi," Alaia said with a tired smile. Her left hand was in a cast that she was absently frittering with.
Tove took a deep breath and stepped into the room. The door fell shut behind her. The beeping and whirring of the machines in the room filled the space. They were magic, and told if everything was OK with Alaia, if one knew how to read them. Tove did, after last time.
"Hey," she finally said. "You okay?"
"Some cuts and bruises," Alaia said, and Tove noticed a purple spreading along her shoulder that peeked under the neckline of her hospital gown. "And this--" she lifted the cast slightly and set it back down carefully "--but otherwise I'm fine. Got really lucky I guess."
"What... what happened?" Tove asked, moving closer in a rush now, unable to just stand there. She pulled a chair from the wall and sat down next to the bed. "You were hit by a tram, but how?"
"I..." Alaia paused, looked contemplative. "I'm not sure. I don't remember stepping on the street. I was walking home from the market place we went to a while back and then I felt something weird in the air and the next thing I know I'm standing on the tracks and a tram is seconds away from hitting me."
A shiver ran through Tove's spine. "You felt something?" she asked instead of acknowledging it.
"I'm not sure, exactly," Alaia admitted. She was looking at her lap again, a vacant look in her eyes indicating she wasn't really seeing what she was looking at. She was playing with her cast again. "There was a feeling in the air, I guess. In my ears. I couldn't really hear anything, something was blocking all sound, like... white noise. There was a pressure on me, but different from regular pressure." She paused, looked up. Her face was set and serious now.
"It was magic."
~X~
Tove was standing on the road, watching over the hustle and bustle. The area of the accident had been cordoned off after the accident, although they couldn't keep it closed for long; it was a busy part of town and a lot of the trams needed to pass through the tracks there. But for now, the only people there were the police, eye witnesses, the traffic reporters and Tove.
There wasn't a lot of snow, but you could still clearly see the spot where Alaia had dived to get out of the way. The ground was tamped and there was some blood, bright against the white background. Someone was taking a picture of it, the police photographer, Tove noted absently. The EFAR would likely contact him to get permission to use some of his pictures on the article that would be written on the incident.
Tove wasn't here for that though. She was here for the magic.
It was the same, she knew it. She could feel it. It was the same magic, the same person than the six other incidents.
"Oi, Blom!" she called out and Blom turned to look at her. She motioned for him to come over and he did.
"Why are you here, Nilsson?" Blom asked, not in a mean way, but rather that he wasn't expecting it, and was pleasantly surprised.
"I think this ties into a story I've been working on for a while," Tove said simply. "Can I get your notes on this when you're done?"
"Yeah, sure!" Blom said with a smile. "You know, you can interview some of the people yourself if you want."
"I wouldn't want to step on your toes, you are the one writing the story."
"It's fine, I know the integrity you work with. I have no doubt you'll know the right questions to ask."
Tove gave him a smile and nodded. He went back to whatever he had been doing as she turned to the handful of civilians that were standing around.
There were three things Tove was sure of: the magic was the same; the perpetrator was the same; and, after their visit to Marqués a few days ago, this wasn't a coincidence.
Alaia had been targeted.
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Heyyyyyyyyyo!! Our buffer is getting a bit thin, but we're gonna keep on trucking!!! A lot of things are happening!!!
I really like that the city is becoming more and more like Helsinki lmao like I don't mind, it easy for me to write about a Helsinki-like city since I live in Helsinki. But I'm just glad it's not purely my doing. Anyway.
Next topic is "Bubble(s)".
Pie out.
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