#i'll kill the studio heads with my bare hands i swear to god

[boasamishipper]

@AMPTP you will Pay for this

[mystery-moose]

FIC: Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V (20/24)

[AO3 link]

They’ve come a long way, but even ten years after the world was saved, they’re still not quite where they should be. A whim, a missing painting, and a handful of near-death experiences help a flip wizard and his apprentice bridge the gap.

Taako does his best. Angus takes some risks. Introductions are made, bonds are tested, and lessons are learned — better late than never.

“—bastard!”

Angus stumbled forward, felt his stomach shift, and nearly threw up between his shoes. It was dark where he was, but his eyes adjusted quickly, and as he took deep breaths with his hands on his knees, the scene quickly became familiar.

He was in his bedroom closet.

“Stupid, stupid, asshole son of a—” Angus turned and grabbed the doorknob, expecting it to turn.

It didn’t.

He tried it again. It wouldn’t move. He tried both hands, turned it as hard as he could. Then he reared back and drove his shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge.

“Damn it!” he cursed, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the handle. “Taako, I swear I'll—”

Nothing happened.

Angus’ blood went cold. He flicked his wrist again, tried to cast Knock. Again, nothing.

“No.” He shook his head. “No no no—”

He looked down at the floor, got to his knees and felt along the edge. Sure enough, there they were; crude runes carefully carved all along the perimeter of the closet. Angus felt them beneath his fingers, remembered the shapes and forms: magic, entropy, and shield, over and over again.

Angus slammed his fists into the floor. “No!” he shouted.

He scrambled to his feet, backed up as far as he could and started kicking the door. Aim next to the handle, wood is weakest there, all you need to do is break it—

“No!” he shouted with every kick. “No! No! No!”

Nothing.

Hinges, find the hinges, if you can take off the hinges—

They were on the other side.

“Fuck!” Angus shouted, driving his shoulder into the door again. “Come on!”

Useless. He couldn’t get the force he needed without a running start. Angus put his back against the wall and raised his foot, pressed against the door and pushed as hard as he could. Then he raised his other leg and pressed with both, back hard against the wooden wall.

“Come on!” he hissed out through clenched teeth. “Come on…!”

Angus felt something twinge in his knees and dropped to the floor, landing on his tailbone with a yelp.

Get up, get up, you’ve got to keep at it, you’ve got to get out—

He felt tears stinging his eyes, and he took off his glasses and pressed his hands to his eyes.

Stop crying, get up, get out, you’ve got to stop him—

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

He’ll die if you don’t.

Angus wiped his eyes beneath his glasses. He slammed his fist against his thigh, and shouted into the dark, “Why?!”

Because he loves you.

Angus dropped his glasses to the floor and cried the way he hadn’t cried in years, wracking sobs until he couldn’t breathe. He dropped his hands from his face and leaned back against the wall.

You can’t give up. He can’t have thought of everything, it’s Taako.

He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw.

Door’s magically locked. I can’t cast magic. What else is there?

He focused on his breathing, concentrating on slowing each breath. Gradually, his head cleared.

You’re not a wizard. You’re a detective. Act like it.

Angus checked his pockets. He had little to work with. His set of lockpicks wouldn’t do him any good against a magical lock. His crossbow wasn’t strong enough to punch through more than an inch of oak. The blackjack he kept strapped to his back wouldn’t be able to break through, and he didn’t have a blade or anything to light a fire if he was that desperate. He was surprised to find his Farspeech stone was gone — no, of course it was, Taako would have lifted it when they��d hugged and Angus had been too emotional to notice. His notebook was gone too; that had been stolen the day before, when Gavin had knocked him out in that warehouse. Not that it mattered. Who could get to him in time who also had a piece of his—

Silvia.

Angus threw himself towards the wooden chest in the corner, praying Taako hadn’t thought to lock that too. He hadn’t. Angus nearly shouted with joy as he pulled out the large hardbacked tome that he’d enchanted as the archive for his notes.

He had to find the right page: the one corresponding to the piece he’d torn out and given to Silvia. If he wrote on that page, she should see it. Feel it, even, if she still carried the scrap of enchanted parchment on her. If he could find it in the mess of notes he’d taken… he’d had this archive going for years now, but it was sorted by date. If he kept flipping towards the back—

There. There it was. A thin faded strip in the middle, showing the tear in the page. The top half would be Silvia’s. Angus pulled out his pen and wrote the simplest, most succinct message he could.

Need your help

Come to apartment ASAP

Matter of life and death

—Angus

Angus pulled away, regarded the message, and realized he had no idea if she’d get it in time. He leaned down to write another note.

Mark this page when you read this

Now all Angus could do was stare at his note, pray to anyone who might be listening, and wait.

He didn’t have to wait long.

on my way

As soon as he saw Silvia’s messy scrawl write itself onto the page, Angus felt a pressure give way in his chest, only to be replaced by a buzz of anxiety. He stood and gathered his things, then pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear.

There was a loud banging at his front door.

“Silvia!” he shouted.

“Angus?!”

“I’m trapped!” he shouted. “The spare key’s above the—”

There was a loud bang, and the sound of a door slamming open. Angus huffed a small sigh.

“Where are you?” Silvia shouted.

“In here!” he yelled back. “The bedroom closet!”

“What?”

“There’s an antimage circle in here! I can’t cast Knock!”

There was a gentle pulse of red light along the door’s edge. Angus tried the knob, and it turned. He opened the door to find Silvia standing there, wand out, looking worried.

“Angus, what's—”

He rushed forward and hugged her. She froze, startled, and he pulled away, hands on her shoulders.

“Taako’s gone.”

“Sorry?”

“He’s gone,” Angus repeated, faster. “We left together to try and stop him, but he ported me back here. We need to hurry!”

“Angus.” Silvia raised her hands and gripped his biceps. “Slow. Down. What’s happening?”

Angus took a deep breath. “I know who did it.”

“Did what?”

“Took the painting. Killed Mr. Wendell. Tried to kill Lady Blisk.”

“Tried to—?” Silvia’s eyes widened. “The assassination attempt? It’s all anyone’s been working all day. How’d you get involved?”

He opened his mouth to explain further, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just listen. It was Gavin, okay? He’s the one responsible. He’s well on his way to stealing an entire vault of powerful magical artifacts, and we have to stop him.”

“I am barely following you,” Silvia said, stepping away, “but I don’t need to. Let’s go.”

As they left Angus’ apartment and rushed out into the courtyard, he turned to Silvia.

“You can’t come with.”

Silvia glared at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You have to get the militia,” he said. “Gavin isn’t a joke, he can cast at least seventh-level Evocation, probably eighth, and gods only know what power those artifacts will give him.”

“Angus, if you think I’m letting you run off alone—”

“Does anyone in the militia know port magic?”

Silvia stopped short, stumbled over her words. “The — my captain knows port magic, but—”

“I gave my evidence to the Lord-Commander’s steward. She’ll have it. That should give your captain everything he needs for the destination.”

“Where are you going?”

Angus flicked his wrist out and summoned the only thing he could think of that would get him to the door fast enough.

“‘Sup, homie,” Garyl said as he materialized into existence. “This is a little weird, you know that, right?”

“I’m in a hurry,” Angus said, climbing astride his Phantom Steed. “I don’t have the time to be original.”

“Angus!”

He looked down at Silvia. Her face was a mix of all kinds of emotions; confusion, anger, and worry chief among them.

“This sucks,” she said flatly. “You know that, right?”

Angus nodded, gathering up two glowing reins in his hands. “I’m sorry. But I won’t risk Gavin getting away with this.”

“And I just get to watch you ride off alone. After Taako just did the same to you.”

“I can’t lose him!”

Angus shouted without meaning to. Silvia clenched her jaw. Angus looked away, down the street.

“I won’t. Not without a fight.”

Garyl shuffled nervously, pawing at the ground. Silvia stepped back, onto the sidewalk.

“I’ll bring backup.”

Angus took a breath, exhaled. He thought about saying goodbye, but he found he didn’t want to.

“Bring healers,” he said instead, tightening his grip on the reins. “Bring everyone you can.”

He kicked Garyl’s sides. The spectral binicorn reared up and his hind legs and pawed the air.

“Hell yeah!” Garyl shouted in his baritone. Then he took off at a full-tilt gallop down the street.

There was an intersection ahead. Straight would take them into the front window of an old art studio. They didn’t slow down.

“We need to go a whole lot faster!” Angus shouted.

Garyl barked out a laugh. “You got it, boss!”

Silver wings with shimmering feathers erupted from Garyl’s sides, extending to their full length. Angus pulled back on the reins, and Garyl rose, hooves clip-clopping against the side of the building as they sprinted up the side, past the roof and into the sky. Down below, Angus saw a magical flare fly up from in front of his apartment building; blue with red sparks.

Backup requested.

Angus spurred Garyl, and they turned north, towards the coast, towards the Door, towards Taako and Gavin and the end of this case.

He only hoped he wasn’t too late.