Petrichor

Petrichor is your power. It's a weird thing. You don't think of rainwater as having a smell. But it does.

It rains. The rain ends. The smell enters your nose. In an instant, a million synapses fire in your brain. You think of the time you stood on Llandudno Pier that one time it rained heavily. The memory is clear and instant. Smell is like magic. A perfect memory retrieval system. The right key can unlock any memory.

Suppose you could use that smell. Not just for unlocking memories, but for other things. Casting magic. Casting memories. Suppose you had the power to cast memories in others. You're not talking about reminding others of their childhood holidays. You're talking about the power to create knowledge. Hard, real-seeming knowledge of things past. Suppose you could use petrichor to do that? What would you do? You would wait for it to rain and give everyone the solid idea that you're their best friend. That they owe you lots and lots of money. Then you would wait for all of it to pile in.

Suppose you think bigger than that. You could have kings, presidents, and billionaires eating out of your hand. Suppose you decide to wait for it to rain at Davos. That's a lot of international leaders in one place. Lots of them are rich. Lots of them have friends in high places, just like them. You think, and you think, and you think, and you come up with the perfect plan.

You pay a lot of attention to the timing. The setup. Because the perfect opportunity is rare. But that stuff is meat and gravy to a sellwand like you. You have no problem with work. How could it be otherwise? After all your experience, all your training.

You know the complicated part is afterward. How do you stop others from recognizing what you just did? How do you manage the influx of money? The plaudits? You've seen others do it. You know you have. You've seen them go mad. You've seen the power go to their heads. They can't stop, and, well... you don't need a reminder of how you got these powers. You go through it all in your head. You read about the people who'll be there. You're sure this time it'll work.

Petrichor is your power. The more petrichor, the more power. You look at the rain tumbling outside the hotel, and you smile. In about an hour's time you'll be the most powerful person on earth. When it comes to memories. And knowledge. And disappearing without a trace.

***

Crime is a constant. It takes a lot of experience and a lot of having your stupid ideas tested to understand that. In any society there will be a percentage of people willing to break the rules to get money or something worse. It's a matter of human nature. Even in a place like Davos. Sir Elrond of Mithalia understood that crime was a constant. Which was why he was gainfully employed as a bodyguard to the CEO of Mythos Industries. Some woman he'd heard of vaguely while scrolling on his phone. Whatever. She paid well, which was good because it was raining here and the last thing he wanted was to get wet. It tended to kill his kind.

It was a question of opportunity. This event attracted opportunists. Sir Elrond liked opportunists. Especially opportunists who didn't think about people like Sir Elrond before they broke the law. They tended to keep him in business. Because without such people, the world would be free of crime, and Sir Elrond wouldn't have anyone to protect. Crime is a constant. That made it inevitable that Sir Elrond would see the sellwand from a mile off and wonder if it would be enough to warn her back to her part of the world or if he would have to go the extra mile and break her arms.

The woman Sir Elrond was watching was sitting on a window overlooking the event. She probably thought she was being smart. Narrowed her eyes like she was being subtle. He even spotted the wand on her hip. It was not really a wand in the sense that she would pull it out and point it at the CEO of Mythos Industries and yell abracadabra. It was just a trophy. It was something they all carried. Because to become a sellwand you had to take your wand from someone. And yes, before you ask, she was invisible.

The sellwand moved across the ledge like she was impersonating Spider-Man. It was cute, really, except Sir Elrond realized that the CEO of Mythos Industries had just stepped out into the rain and he couldn't follow her. She folded her arms defensively and turned to him with an angry, expectant expression. Right. Follow the client.

Sir Elrond pulled up his hood and stepped out. It never got easier, even though the cape protected him against anything from rain to hellfire. He knew. He'd tested it.

The sellwand moved again. Eyes locked on everyone. Not the CEO of Mythos Industries, but everyone. The sellwand's expression changed. She looked at Sir Elrond. Winked.

He looked around for exits. It was a large space, easily two hundred feet by two hundred, basically square. It was an open-air part of the event. Perfect opportunity for someone like a sellwand. But there were witnesses. There was no way to get away with killing an individual here, even if you were invisible and had the same powers as Sir Elrond.

It stopped raining.

The sellwand stood up. She looked confident.

Sir Elrond turned to the CEO of Mythos Industries. Grabbed her arm and pulled her around so he put himself between her the sellwand. He didn't want to die, but he figured it was worse to live with a bad reputation among his people. You just didn’t get it until you've lived with them and trained with them for a hundred years.

Nothing happened. The CEO of Mythos Industries was breathless, her hair a mess. He looked at her and she understood. There's a threat. Time to leave.

He turned and stopped. He noticed a funny smell in the air. He felt happy. Grateful. He recognized the power at once and resisted it. But the CEO of Mythos Industries had joined the others. All the humans had turned toward the sellwand. She was visible now, they were looking at her, and they were chanting her name.