by Logan Jacobs
“Let’s go,” I said to Sorcha as I tried to push past the two men.
“Hey, don’t be rude!” the horsey man yelled.
“Yeah, don’t be rude,” his friend added as they pushed back.
“Hex,” Sorcha warned quietly but firmly. “We’re drawing too much attention.”
“We’ll give you plenty of attention,” the man with the floppy hat declared.
“So take a hike, Hex,” the horsey man added as he tried to bump my chest with his.
I stepped aside and threw my foot out, and the man stumbled on the sidewalk when he tripped. His friend tried to help him, which sent both of them into a reel.
I moved out of the way of their awkward waltz, but the deputy started toward us. The crowds on the sidewalk quickly moved out of his way as he strode toward our scuffle. I saw his hand move toward the crossbow he carried, and I fought back the urge to draw the gun.
Fortunately, the two men had managed to right themselves by leaning against a lamp post, and with our path clear, I grabbed Sorcha’s hand and started down the sidewalk. She hurried along by my side, and I could tell she was fighting the urge to look over her shoulder almost as much as I was.
“Hey,” a new voice called after us, and I assumed it was the deputy. I didn’t want to break into a run, but Sorcha and I both picked up the pace.
“Hey,” the voice called again.
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” the man with the flat cap yelled after us.
“Quiet down, you two,” the new voice ordered.
“We were just talking to the pretty girl,” the horsey man whined.
I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as we tried to lose ourselves in the crowds. I thought for sure I would feel a hand on my shoulder and hear a voice of authority order me to stop, but the two drunks must have kept the deputy busy because we made it through the busiest section without any more signs of an official presence.
Sorcha was right about the crowds, and as we neared the invisible edges of the Green, the streets became less busy. I drew in a deep breath, despite the bad odors that filled the air, and looked over my shoulder as casually as I could. Sorcha did as well, and I heard her breathe a sigh of relief.
“That was close,” she murmured.
“Well, he may have just let us go once he realized they were harassing you,” I said, “but he was looking at everyone pretty closely.”
“He was looking for someone,” Sorcha agreed. “Best not to take any chances.”
We came to a stop on a street corner, and I looked around closely at our surroundings. There were still plenty of bordellos and music halls, but these were smaller and not as showy as their neighbors closer to the center. Most of the people moved quickly to their destinations rather than strolling along and looking in the windows, a sure sign these were regulars and not just tourists from out of town looking for a little edgy entertainment.
“Come on,” I urged as I spotted a sign for an inn named “Fat Frenchie’s” tucked down one of the side streets.
Unlike most of the businesses operating along the main road of the Green that advertised pretty girls and plenty of beer, Fat Frenchie’s sign promised clean sheets and top-notch alcohol, including champagne. More importantly, it looked and sounded a degree less dubious than its neighbors.
As we got closer, I decided this was our best option for a place to stay in the Green. The piano music that filtered out of the inn’s doorway sounded more classical than saloon, and the young woman standing by the door was wearing a dress that could have been plucked from the shoulders of one of the upper-crust women at the arena. She offered us a smile and a nod as we stepped toward the door, then turned her attention on a pair of well-dressed gentlemen who walked along the street behind us.
The room we stepped into was filled with flowers, and the heady scent was almost cloying. Every flat surface held at least one vase full of blooms, and the redhead behind the main desk had a wreath of them in her hair. Sorcha raised a hand to cover her nose, and I briefly considered checking out one of the other establishments instead just to escape the smell.
“May I help you?” the busty redhead manning the desk asked. I put her in her fifties, though it was hard to be sure beneath the layers of make-up. She eyed us carefully, then offered us a toothy smile.
I glanced toward the street again, but the smell outside was considerably worse and far less inviting. So, I shrugged and pulled on Sorcha’s hand.
“We’d like a room,” I replied as Sorcha and I approached the desk.
“For how long?” the red-head asked as she eyed my partner.
“Just for tonight,” I said.
“The whole night?” the woman asked as she raised an eyebrow and studied Sorcha even closer.
Sorcha’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, and I saw her look at the floor in embarrassment.
“The whole night,” I agreed heartily.
The desk manager blinked in surprise, then quickly consulted her ledger. I could tell she was doing a calculation in her head, and when she’d settled on an agreeable number, she looked up and smiled.
“Three silvers for the night,” she offered.
I nudged Sorcha, and she finally looked at me and then nodded. I smiled, and the red-head handed me a key.
“Room three-fifteen,” the desk manager said as I dug three silvers from my money pouch and slid them across the granite surface. “Take the stairs to the top floor, make a right, and follow the hallway to the end.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I grabbed Sorcha’s hand and started to lead her to the winding staircase that occupied the entire back wall.
“Have fun,” the desk clerk called out as we took the stairs two at a time.
“I’ve never felt so humiliated,” Sorcha grumbled as we stepped onto the landing for the second floor.
A woman with a long blonde braid and not much else on wandered by us with a tumbler of brown liquid and stopped at one of the doors. She knocked then stepped inside, and the sounds of laughter and sex filtered toward us for a moment until the door slammed shut.
“Why?” I teased as we climbed more slowly toward the third floor. “Were you embarrassed the woman couldn’t believe someone would want to spend the whole night with you?”
Sorcha squinted at me as if trying to decide if I was serious.
“Sometimes men can be such assholes,” she finally muttered.
“It’s in our nature,” I agreed as we reached the third floor.
I turned toward the right and started down the hallway. I heard muffled groans and rhythmic pounding from the first rooms we passed, but the area at the end was dead quiet. I stopped in front of a red door with the number three fifteen stenciled on it and put the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment, and then turned with the grating sound of metal rubbing against metal.
The room was nothing special. There was a double bed, a battered end table, a chair that looked like it was about to crumble to the floor, and a pair of tattered curtains that did a poor job of blocking the light from the street lamp directly outside the window.
Sorcha looked around the room, then dropped onto the bed with a sigh. I walked around the tiny space, then sat down next to her, careful to leave plenty of space between us.
“Have you figured out where the nearest hidey-hole is?” I asked as we both stared at a patch of peeling paint.
“Yes,” she replied, “but I think we should just try to make our own way out of the city.”
“Okay,” I agreed, “but they’ve probably tripled the number of guards at the tunnel.”
“Maybe we can disguise ourselves,” she suggested, though she sounded doubtful.
“Can’t you just use some of that magic on them?” I asked.
“It really only works well when I’m influencing one or two people at a time,” she explained. “And it’s almost impossible to fool a really powerful mage, so even if I could fool one of the guards, we’d still have to find
a way to deal with the mages.”
“Huh,” was all I could come up with.
“But there used to be other ways out of the city,” she added as she frowned at the peeling paint.
“I’ve heard that,” I replied. “There used to be more tunnels and bridges.”
“Most of them were never rebuilt,” Sorcha continued. “Just the ones you’ve seen.”
“But?” I prodded, since I could see she was trying to puzzle something out.
“But,” she said as she reached inside her shirt and pulled out a chain, “we had a back-up plan, of sorts. Garth created these for us, a while back. He said we could use them if we ever got in a tight situation, and this is a tight situation.”
“What does it do?” I asked as I studied the amulet she was now fingering. It was about the size of her thumb, though more slender. It was a velvet black, and I could just make out flecks of gold that looked like they were swirling through the pendant.
“It can serve as a portal,” she replied. “I can only use it once, though, and I’m not sure if it’s powerful enough to carry two people, and since I’m not a portal mage, I have to see where I want to go, so we can’t really transport that far.”
“But if you could see the other side of the river, for instance,” I suggested.
“That’s what I was thinking,” she said, “but the closer we can get to the other side, the more likely we’ll be able to get across.”
“So, where’s the closest point between the city and the mainland?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted and bit her lip. “I never thought I’d have to use this to get off the island.”
I tried to remember the map Paul Reese had carried on the drive to the market. He’d bought one from a local map maker even though he knew the trail well enough to navigate without it. It was supposed to show all the hazards along the way, but it had also included various bridges and tunnels that were marked as no longer in use.
“Some of the old bridges still extend pretty far into the water,” I commented.
“Yes,” Sorcha agreed after a moment’s hesitation, “but not any of the ones that lead to the main island. Those were all torn down so the city could better control who was entering that part of the city. But some of the ones on the outer islands are still like they were after the meteorite hit. There wasn’t enough money or will power to take them down.”
“So, if we could get to one of those, we could get about halfway across the river,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” she said. “If we did, I could probably create a portal that would take us further inland, and we wouldn’t be standing on the edge of a cliff when we stepped through.”
“Then let’s go to one of the outer islands,” I declared. “We’ll find one of the old bridges that still goes out into the river and use it as our jumping off point.”
Sorcha finally turned to glance at me and gave me another one of those looks that said she was trying to decide something about me.
“Most of the outer islands are reached by boat,” she said, “but there’s a stone bridge that connects the main island to Brook Island. There’s never any guards there. We should be able to cross over without any problems.”
“Then all we have to do is find one of the old bridges back to the mainland,” I mused. “If we follow the river, we should be able to find one.”
“It sounds so easy,” she commented. “Why do I find that suspicious?”
I laughed and moved closer to her. Her cheeks flushed pink again for a moment, and then she turned to study me. I kept still under her gaze to let her reach her own decisions.
“Tell me about this magic of yours,” I finally said when her gaze shifted back to her hands. “Can you read minds?”
“No,” she sighed. “Well, not exactly. I can be around people and sense what they want or need or even feel.”
“Like the portal mage who wanted to be paid,” I mused.
“And the baker who didn’t want to get in trouble,” she added. “I can use that to get them to do things or see things sometimes, but it can’t be anything really big or fantastical. I can’t make someone see an entire army.”
“You tried that?” I asked in surprise.
“Once,” she admitted. “I was trying to help a group of travelers who were being harassed by highwaymen.”
“That sounds like an interesting story,” I prodded.
“Not really,” she sighed. “Of course, some people are easier to manipulate than others. The portal mage at the arena was easy enough just because he was so greedy. Money was all he thought about. For what I do, it’s all about finding a little hook.”
“And have you found my hook yet?” I teased.
“I’m still studying you,” she admitted and narrowed her green eyes at me. “I’ve never encountered anyone with magic like yours before so I’m not sure what to make of you. But I don’t think I could manipulate you. Not easily.”
“You mentioned powerful mages weren’t susceptible,” I mused. “Not that I’m saying I’m powerful, but I would guess most mages aren’t as easy to control as that fellow at the arena.”
“Another lesson learned the hard way,” the soft-spoken blonde replied with a bitter edge.
When Sorcha didn’t offer any more information, I took her hand in my own. It was soft and delicate, but I could sense power flowing through her as well.
She quickly pulled her hand away and started to pick at the coverlet.
“You didn’t grow up here,” I tossed out, not sure what else to talk about. The mage seemed reluctant to discuss her own past adventures, and I suspected she regretted telling me so much about her own childhood when we were gathered around the table with Arthur and Bunda.
“I grew up in Eire,” she said. “I came here a few years ago, when I was recruited to help with the movement.”
“And you’ve been traveling around the whole continent since then?” I asked, with a note of awe in my voice. I’d done my share of traveling, but I’d never considered striking out for the opposite coast or venturing across the ocean. Though, now that I thought about it, I really didn’t know why. There certainly wasn’t anything that kept me tied to this area, and now it seemed there were plenty of reasons to leave.
“A bit,” she admitted.
“And you’ve used your magic to help people,” I prodded.
“I try,” she agreed, “but people get nervous when they find out what I can do. It’s easier if I travel with other mages who can do something showy and draw everyone’s attention.”
“Like Arthur and Bunda,” I guessed.
“Oh, gods, I hope they weren’t captured,” she murmured. “The Magesterium can be cruel to mages they consider to be troublemakers.”
“Maybe they made it out,” I offered, though that seemed unlikely. I tried not to picture the mages I’d known for such a short time as they burned to death in the flames. I’d seen that happen once before, to a hand who had been caught in a barn fire, and it was an ugly way to die.
“No, I doubt it,” she said as she shook her head. “We wouldn’t have escaped if they hadn’t sacrificed themselves. The best I can hope for is that they died and weren’t taken to the Magesterium to be questioned.”
I took her hand again, and this time she left it in mine. Then she leaned in toward me and rested her head on my shoulder. We stayed like that for several minutes until she pulled away and shook her head.
“This isn’t good,” she sighed. “It could lead to, well … ”
“Lead to what?” I persisted as the mage suddenly blushed and looked at the peeling paint again.
“It’s dangerous for me to get too involved with someone,” she huffed. “Men find it … disturbing. And I’ve even been accused of manipulating men so they want to sleep with me--not that, uhhh, I sleep with anyone … uhhh, we should talk about something el--”
“You are beautiful,” I cut her off with a smirk. “It’s magical, but not that kind of magic.”
“Thank you,” she sighed, “but I didn’t do anything to earn my physical characteristics or power, I was just born with them. Also, the few times I have been intimate with someone, it didn’t turn out well, so we’ll just keep this professional.”
“Didn’t turn out well?” I asked in genuine confusion, but then I realized I was asking about her love life. “Whoops, you don’t need to--”
“It’s fine.” Sorcha squinted at me again, but she must have decided my puzzlement was real because her suspicious glance turned sad, and then she sighed heavily.
“When I’m intimate with someone, my power flows both ways,” she explained. “It’s an awareness of the other person that most people never experience, and it can be unsettling if you’re not used to it.”
“Oh,” I replied as I tried to imagine what that would feel like, and to remind myself I barely knew this woman. So, I looked away and tried very hard not to think about the lovely body I suspected was hidden beneath all the layers of clothing.
“I’ll go find us something to drink,” Sorcha offered as she stood up and took the two steps across the room to the door.
She stepped into the hallway before I could stop her and closed the door with a quiet click. I flopped back onto the bed, threw my arm over my eyes, and wondered what I was doing. Was I really about to wander across the entire country with a mind-bending mage for company? And what was I supposed to do when I finally made it to this mysterious island?
It was almost enough to make me wish I hadn’t ever picked up the revolver.
Almost.
Chapter 6
Sorcha returned with a bottle of flavored water, a pair of glasses, and a pair of tattered robes. We’d polished off the bottle while we reviewed our plan for tomorrow, and then she hinted we should get some sleep. I offered to sleep on the floor, but the beautiful blonde mage said I needed my rest, so we each laid on the bed as far to the sides as we could get without falling off.
In any other situation, sharing a bed with the most beautiful woman I’d ever met would have led to a night of love making, but this just wasn’t the right time to come on to the woman. My thoughts drifted around what my new magic meant for me, the threats on my life, and what risks we would take tomorrow, and Sorcha tossed and turned with what I guessed were thoughts of her maybe-dead-maybe-captured friends and her mission to get me to the west coast.
