Chapter 6

There have been absolutely no cases of Children of Loki below the age of nineteen. The initial group of people who gained powers on February 17th had a wide range of ages, but none below nineteen. New instances of people gaining powers, colloquially known as "Embers," have consistently occurred sometime after the person turned nineteen. A person may be in their thirties and suddenly develop CoL abilities, but no one below the age of nineteen has done so. Our current theory is that one's prefrontal cortex needs to reach a certain level of development before they can comprehend the powers. My personal hope is to one day do a series of studies involving Embers between the ages of nineteen and twenty.

Excerpt from "The Book of CoL: Second Edition" Chapter 3: Restrictions on Age.

I'm in the hotel lobby finishing off a doughnut I picked up, along with a small coffee, to kill time when I receive a text from Detective Windgate that reads "OK" in reply to the previous message I sent about being on my way.

I'm a bit early but decide to go to the room he had mentioned. Maybe he's got the clients here? It's not a hotel I'd expect a rich family to be staying in. It's no motor-inn or fleabag motel, but it is decidedly middle class and located directly off the highway. A prime location for traveling families.

The elevator creaks a bit as it carries me up two floors. It's also more than a bit muggy inside the thing. One good thing about being a CoL is you don't have to sweat through your shirt if you don't want to.

You just have to make sure you don't give yourself heatstroke in the process. People evolved to sweat for a reason. I make sure I'm not too sweaty when I step into the hallway and approach the door.

I am a consultant to a detective, I tell myself. I am a CoL expert.

Neither is a lie. Unless I get fired, then the first one was just a significant mistake.

I knock on the door and hear a shuffling on the other side before a voice calls, "Who is it?"

"Detective Windgate? It's Page. I know I'm a little early but I thought I'd come on up and-"

The door opens suddenly, he reaches out, and pulls me inside before locking it behind me. I don't get any more words out for a while because the detective is vehemently remorseful.

"I am, so, so, sorry. Mixter Simmons," Detective Windgate begins. "This was all a terrible misunderstanding. Please, let me know which hotel you're staying at and I'll cover your costs. You can stay here if you don't have one and I'll arrange for a ride to take you home. Again, I am so very, very, sorry about all of this."

His posture is a different than when I met him at the grocery store, not quite as cocky. He's doing a bad job of hiding the fact that he's in a full blown panic. It could be just because he's firing me but it seems more significant than that. As someone who can literally look like anyone they want I'm used to picking up on different mannerisms and if he didn't look like the same person I had met on Friday I would almost say he was someone else entirely. Even his speech is different. Not by a lot but to me it's noticeable.

"Am I being fired?" I ask.

He winces and tilts his head a little then shrugs. "Yes."

"Why?" I ask. "You still have the CoL kid to investigate, right?"

"I can't take the case," Detective Windgate says sharply.

"Why not?"

"Personal reasons," he says. "I'm about to call the family and tell them I can't do it."

"You're going to quit over the phone?" I ask.

That doesn't seem very professional.

"It's hard to explain but I have to. I can't handle being around a CoL like that," he says evasively.

"I get it, we can be scary, but still. It seems rather impersonal to quit that way."

He goes pale staring at me and takes a few steps back, nearly stumbling over the corner of the hotel room's bed. "You're...a..."

"Oh, shit," I say before putting my hands in the air and backing up toward the door behind me. "I am so sorry, you had no idea I'm a CoL. Shit."

He turns away from me and takes another shaky step toward the window while shaking his head. I can hear him mumbling, "Nope. Not now. No."

"What did Doctor Hailu tell you about me?" I ask.

"That you were an expert," he says weakly.

"I am, but, shit. Does Hailu know you have a problem with CoLs?"

I should leave. He's obviously in distress, but I don't want the mystery of the ten year old Ember unsolved. I back up toward the door another step, hoping I don't look more menacing in the shadows for doing so.

"She does, but I didn't call her," he says. "It's complicated."

"Friday you said she referred you to me," I say.

Then it clicks.

But I don't say anything.

"Please, just go. I'm going to quit this job. I'm sorry I can't pay you. I can...I can cover your hotel."

"I don't have a hotel," I say. "And don't worry about paying me. I'll work the case myself."

"NO! You absolutely will not be copying me!" He erupts as he turns around. "You will not!"

I still have my hands in the air. "I never said I would. I don't like using my powers unless I absolutely have to. Just tell your client you're handing the job off to a private investigator who specializes in CoL stuff. I have a license. I can work the case on my own. I don't like the idea of you doing that over the phone but if you need to go for it."

"You don't understand," Detective Windgate says sitting down on the far corner of the bed.

I wait a moment before I speak. The silence hangs heavy between us. "I understand you've got DID or something similar that's triggered by CoLs. It's a survival response because something happened. I wont pry, but it explains why your behavior's changed, speaking differently, and how you could call Doctor Hailu without calling Doctor Hailu. An alter hired me."

He's not the first System I've heard about with CoL related trauma, but he is the first I've met. Strangely, there haven't been any CoLs discovered with Dissociative Identity Disorder. It doesn't mean they don't exist, but our powers would certainly make it more difficult to recognize them.

He stares at me. Then blinks. Then looks at the television which is still turned off. After a little while he speaks.

"Starling and Lucas hired you. They co-fronted after the kid triggered me," he says. "I'll pay for your ride home."

"It's not that far," I say.

The Detective stares at me again. "What?"

"I moved to Austin."

"Jesus Christ," he puts his face in his hands.

"I was planning to move anyway," I say. "I literally had all my stuff packed in boxes and my lease expiring in a couple weeks."

Detective Windgate sits silently for a few moments just staring at the television. He runs his fingers through his hair then looks at his hand with a bit of disgust.

"I don't like this shit Starling uses," he says.

"Hair wax?" I ask. "Or something else?"

"It's wax." He shakes his head. "Smells like oranges. You're right. I can't quit over the phone. If you've really got a P.I. license then I'll hand the job off to you. We'll go in person. Just...please don't use your powers."

"That wont be a problem," I say. "For what it's worth, it's nice to meet you, Detective Windgate. Or is that just Starling?"

"We're all Detective Windgate," he says as he gets to his feet. He walks up to me and puts out a hand. "My name's Eugene Windgate. I'm the Host. Our System is me, Starling, and Lucas."

I shake his hand. "It's nice to meet y'all. I'm Page Simmons."