Bob human sacrifice

"Need your take on something," I said. I opened up the folder and started laying out the photographs Martin had given me.
Bob regarded them for a moment, and asked, "What are we looking at, here?"
"Metacapacitors," I said.
"That's weird. 'Cause they look like a bunch of ritual objects. "
"Yeah. I figure metacapacitor is code language for ritual object. "
Bob studied the pictures and muttered to himself under his breath. He isn't actually a talking skull - he's a spirit of intellect who happens to reside inside a specially enchanted skull. He's been assisting wizards since the Dark Ages, and if he hasn't forgotten more than I ever knew about the wide world of magic, it's only because he doesn't forget anything, ever.
"They're traveling in a single group. I need to get a ballpark estimate on what they might be used for. "
"Tough to tell from two-dimensional images," Bob said. "I start getting confused when there are any fewer than four dimensions. " He rattled the skull's teeth together a few times, thoughtfully. "Is there anything else? Descriptions or anything?"
I opened the folder. "Just the inventory list. " I put my finger on the picture of the stone knife and read, " 'Flint blade. ' " I touched an old brick with crumbling edges. " 'Brick. ' "
"Well, that's just blindingly useful," Bob muttered.
I grunted. "It's possible that this is just miscellaneous junk. If you don't think it has a specific purpose, then - "
"I didn't say that," Bob interrupted sourly. "Jeez, Harry. Ye of little faith. "
"Can you tell me anything or not?"
"I can tell you that you're teetering on the edge of sanity, sahib. "
I blinked at that. "What?"
Bob didn't look up from the pictures. "Your aura is all screwed up. It's like looking at an exploding paint factory. Crazy people get that way. "
I grunted and considered Bob's words for a moment. Then I shrugged. "I'm too close to this case, maybe. "
"You need some time in a quiet place, boss. Unkink your brain's do. Mellow your vibe. "
"Thank you, Doctor Fraud," I said. "I'll take that under advisement. Can you tell me anything about those objects or what?"
"Not without getting to examine them," Bob said.
I grunted. "Super. Another bad inning for the wizard gumshoe. "
"Sorry," he said. "But all I can tell you from here is the trigger. "
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, those are objects of dark, dangerous magic," Bob said. "I mean, obviously. Look at the angles. Nothing is proportional and balanced. They're meant for something destructive, disruptive, deadly. "
I grunted. "That tracks. Rumor has it that the war is going to rev up again soon. " I ran my fingers tiredly through my hair. "What did you say the trigger was, again?"
"For something this dark?" Bob asked. "Only one thing'll do. "
I felt myself freeze. My coffeeless gorge began to rise.
"Human sacrifice," the skull chirped brightly. "The slaughter of an innocent. "


Changes Chapter 9, Page 84-86