by Dan Wingreen
His mind latched onto the only obvious choice a little too eagerly for Aidan's liking.
"You've been out here every night for a week?" he asked. "Do you…live around here?"
"You're changin' the subject," the man chided.
"You're avoiding the question," Aidan shot back.
The man grinned. "Guilty as charged. I like your hair by the way."
"Just… I… What?" Aidan said, flustered. "Why? I mean…um, really?"
The man laughed again. "Yes, really. Nice change from the short side parts that everyone else around here seems to have, which is kinda unoriginal and boring if you ask me."
Aidan agreed, but somehow saying so out loud seemed…disloyal. He had no idea why, or how, admitting that was any worse than admitting a man attacking cops wasn't exactly wrong. I'm a mess.
He needed to say something back, because the man seemed to be waiting for something and that was how conversations worked. Wait, did I just get complimented? Should I compliment him back?
"Um, your hair is long," Aidan said. Dammit that isn't what I meant to say. "Too long." That's not any better. "It kind of looks like it belongs on a horse." Oh for…stop talking!
Instead of getting offended and never talking to him again like any sane person would have, the man seemed happy for some reason. "You think so? So, you don't like it then?"
"No! It's fine. I mean, I didn't, but it's clean and I—" Aidan broke off, then sighed. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," he said with a smirk.
"So you don't really like my hair?" Better question, why am I sad about that?
"No," the man said. "I wasn't teasing about that. You really do have nice hair."
Aidan flushed again. And now I'm back to happy. I'm obviously way more messed up than I thought. "Oh. Good. I like yours, too. It's clean. Like I said."
"Even if it looks like it belongs on a horse?" the man asked with a smile.
"Even if," Aidan answered, trying out a small smile of his own.
"Look at that. A smile. A definite improvement over them insults."
"Shut up," Aidan muttered.
The man sighed dramatically. "And looks like I've gone and ruined it. The magic's lost now. Well, I still have this, so maybe I can try to win a thank you. That'd make up for scarin' the smile away, I think."
Before Aidan could wonder too much what the hell he was going on about, the man once again produced Aidan's license.
Aidan swallowed heavily and fought back a sudden urge to cry. I take that back; "messed up" doesn't even begin to cover it. Oh Merlin, I almost lost it forever. I could have had my hand burned off. I could have starved. I could have died.
"I…" Aidan reached out with a shaky hand and took it. He fumbled his wallet out of his back pocket—not easy to do when sitting on the ground—and slid his license into its slot. He swallowed back another sob and took a deep breath to try and steady himself, but almost lost it again when the man held up the folded bills Beer Gut had taken from him.
"Th-thank you," he said as he stuffed the money back in then put the wallet away. He blinked a few times to make sure any embarrassing tears weren't going to start falling, then looked the man in the eye. "Not just…you know. For everything."
If asked, Aidan would have said he expected teasing, or maybe some sarcastic remark, but instead the smile the man gave him looked pleased, peaceful. Like he really wasn't expecting the thank you and it somehow made his night.
"You're welcome," the man said, almost softly.
He stood up and held out his hand. Aidan hesitated, then took it and let the man help him up. His hand wasn't as rough as Aidan expected it to be. It was actually kind of smooth. Which was weird. Not the smoothness, really, but Aidan noticing it. Who notices how people's hands feel? Better question, who apparently thinks about it beforehand? Aidan had a horrible suspicion about why he'd be thinking about someone else's hands, especially a male someone, but he squashed the thought before it could fully form.
He pulled his hand away from the man under the pretense of brushing off his pants, then scowled when he realized he really needed to brush them off. These better not be ruined. They're my third favorite pair.
"So," the man said a few seconds later, breaking into Aidan's pants-related thoughts. "Do I get to know the name of the person I saved from torture and maiming, because it's getting a bit annoyin' to keep thinking of you as 'the wizard'."
Aidan cocked his head. "You didn't look at my license?"
"I was a bit busy being called names and accused of murder sprees," he said wryly.
"Oh. Right." Aidan smiled self-consciously. "I’m Aidan. Um, Aidan Collins."
You idiot, why did you tell him your last name?
The man grinned. "Aidan? Fits you perfectly."
"Oh? Um, okay." How does a name fit somebody?
"And…will you be wantin' mine in return?" the man asked after what was apparently too long of a pause.
"Huh? Oh! Um, yeah. Sure." Aidan was really starting to hate how isolated wizards kept themselves. I'm twenty-six years old. I should know how to do the whole introduction thing without stumbling over my awkwardness by now. Maybe I should have just pretended he was a WA group full of teenagers… Dammit that's actually a good idea. Wish I'd thought of it earlier. "What's your name?" he asked his group of one.
"Eallair," he said.
Aidan raised an eyebrow. "’He all ear’?"
"Ah!" Eallair groaned. "You're butchering it. It's 'ee-al-air'. It's Gaelic."
"Oh," Aidan said. Well, that explained the accent. Except it really didn't, because Aidan had no idea what a Gaelic accent sounded like. For all he knew, Eallair could have a French accent.
"I, uh, won't get it wrong again?" Except he didn't know when he'd ever get the chance to get it wrong, since he doubted he'd ever see the oddly named sorcerer after tonight. And why did that make him a little bit sad?
Forget it, at least it's a promise I can keep, then.
"I'll hold you to that," Eallair said seriously.
They looked at each other for what seemed like a lot longer than the half a minute or so it actually was. A carriage turned down the road they were on, the headlights lighting up the street a lot more than the power lines, leaving them—and the unconscious police officers—very visible. Luckily, it turned down a cross street before it got too close, but it snapped them both out of whatever strange moment they were in.
"Right," Eallair said, scratching the back of his head. "We probably shouldn't be standing around out here next to two very dead-looking cops. Especially you, with the livin' around here and all."
Aidan shuddered, then nodded. "Yeah. That would be bad. Especially if they woke up. Um, when are they gonna wake up?"
"Oh, not for hours," Eallair said cheerfully. "And even when they do, they won't be in any shape to form words or chew solid food for at least another day."
"Oh. Um, wow?"
Eallair shot him a wicked grin. "I don't mess around with my knockout magic."
Aidan found himself smiling back even though a big part of him was freaking out over smiling about assaulted cops. But now that the thought was in his head, he was starting to get worried about being spotted. He looked down the street towards his building, trying to remember how many dark alleys he had to walk by before he got home. Too many. Any is too many. He shuddered.
"Do you, uh…" Eallair said with uncharacteristic hesitation. "Do you maybe want me to walk you home?"
Yes. No. Yes! "No, that's okay," Aidan said before he could change his mind again There were so many reasons why he wanted to say yes, and a bunch why he said no. The problem was he couldn't decide which ones were rational and which ones weren't.
He smiled at Eallair. "Um, thanks for offering though." And for saving me, and for telling me your name, even though it's slightly ridiculous, and for having clean hair and smooth hands.
"Anytime," Eallair said softly. They looked at each other for a few moments, then he grinned at Aidan
one last time and, with a short wave, he turned around, put his hands in his pockets and walked away down the street. "See you around, little fire," he called over his shoulder.
Aidan started to wave back, then stopped when he realized Eallair wasn't going to see it with the whole "facing the other direction" thing going on. And why did he call me that? He thought about calling after Eallair and asking, but he didn't think he'd be able to do it without caving in and taking him up on the offer of a walk home. Eallair was probably dangerous, and Aidan wasn't sure he wanted him to know where he lived.
Yeah, that's the reason.
A small breeze kicked up and cut through his thin sweater. Aidan shivered. It's too cold to be outside and I'm standing next to evidence of a crime I was technically a part of. I think it's beyond time to get back home.
He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and started to walk, completely ignoring how nice it would have been not to be walking back alone. Especially since he was coming up on another one of those alleys. Against his better judgment, he looked back over his shoulder.
No one was there. Just a dark, empty street that seemed to stretch on forever. Aidan sighed, wondering why he expected any different. He looked away, and went home.
Chapter 3
It ended up being almost another week before Aidan got around to going to the DMS to get his license renewed.
It wasn't his fault. It wasn't like he was trying to procrastinate. He knew how important it was and having his registration this close to expiring terrified him.
He just happened to be even more terrified of leaving his apartment.
When he woke up the day after being attacked—surprisingly without any nightmares—his whole neighborhood was buzzing about the two half-dead police officers who were discovered that morning by a wizard walking to work. Despite the morning chill, he'd opened his window as soon as he'd woken up so he could hear as the normally insular wizards discussed it on the street below with the nervous fascination of people watching a distant tornado. They were worried, and scared, and Aidan spent all day sitting next to the window, curled up under his thin blanket, his arms wrapped around his knees, waiting to hear if anyone mentioned his name. No one did, but he still spent the rest of that night and the following day waiting for the police or DMS agents to storm into his apartment and arrest him, or maybe just revoke his registration right on the spot.
No one came.
Not a single investigator. Not a single agent. The only person who knocked on Aidan's door was the mail carrier, and he barely even mumbled his usual surly, "Here you go," before dragging himself off down the hall.
Aidan didn't understand why he hadn't been arrested. Surely someone had to be investigating. Two cops were attacked right in the middle of a Wizards' Quarter. There should have been agents everywhere, if not at first, then definitely when the effects of Eallair's spell wore off and one of them told their superiors what happened. Aidan had practically pointed out where he lived to them and they knew his name; it's not like it would have been hard to find him.
Unless, for some reason, they didn't tell.
Which, when Aidan thought about it, made the most sense. Attacking a wizard and trying to steal from him wasn't exactly normal police procedure. They must have been afraid of someone finding out what they were up to. The thought made Aidan feel better for all of five seconds before he started wondering when they were going to come after him to get revenge.
He spent that night with his couch pushed firmly up against his door.
When a few more days passed and Beer Gut and Barnes hadn't shown up, Aidan didn't know what to think. Maybe someone found out what they were doing and punished them? Maybe they died on the way to the hospital? Maybe they really weren't cops and they were arrested?
The possibilities swirled through Aidan's head, but even after hours of worrying and thinking, he had no idea what actually happened. He tried going outside the next day, and immediately found a new problem to deal with.
He was afraid of cops.
Well, maybe afraid wasn't the right word, but he was wary in a way he'd never been before. Every time he saw a cop or anyone that even looked like they might be a government official, he found himself wanting to turn around and walk in the other direction. When he passed them, he had to fight to keep from tensing up or cringing away, even if they barely seemed to notice him.
It bothered him, this new fear. He'd never in his life thought of police officers or anyone working for the government as anything other than protectors; people who were looking out for everyone's best interests. He hated that, instead of feeling safe around them, he felt hunted.
It wasn't even about his part in what happened. He had no idea if he was going to suddenly find himself in the same situation, helpless and at the mercy of someone more powerful. Despite being a wizard—or maybe even because of it—he'd never been afraid of anyone with more power than him, magical or otherwise. He'd never had any reason to. But now he did, and it bothered him on so many different levels because he was starting to feel like he'd been missing something his entire life. Some important piece of information that was right in front of him, but he'd just never seen.
He pushed those thoughts away almost as violently as he pushed away the ones about wanting to see Eallair again.
In the end, he finally convinced himself he was being paranoid. No one was coming after him. If the cops who attacked him didn't tell anyone about him, there was no reason for anyone to think a wizard was involved with a magical assault. He was scared for no good reason.
In fact, he decided both he and Eallair were wrong and Barnes and Beer Gut couldn't be cops, because cops didn't act like that. Cops were the good guys, simple as that. And if some sorcerer who seemed like he had no respect for the law said he saw them being cops for a whole week…well, maybe he was lying. It was the only thing that made sense, and it only took Aidan another day to convince himself. Firmly. Undeniably.
Mostly.
◆◆◆
For the first time in his life, Aidan found an empty parking space right out in front of the DMS.
This is a sign. From now on, everything's going to be okay. Last week was the bad, and now this is the good cancelling it out. So, from now on everything can just go back to normal.
He nodded firmly as he carefully pulled his carriage into the space.
Aidan hated having to use his carriage. Not that a horseless carriage wasn't one of the most useful things the gathering and processing of raw magic had given the country in the past hundred years, but he knew better than most that anything powered by magic could break down. Not much of a problem for most people, since repair spells were one of the first things people tended to learn. Like everything, it was a different story for wizards. One of Aidan's worst fears was having the stupid thing break down in the middle of the highway and being stuck there until someone complained about him blocking up the lane and the Wizard Liaison Division sent out a sorcerer to fix it for him. Which would be all kinds of embarrassing. Not to mention it'd be taken out of his next labor check.
He tapped the power button, and the buzz of magic stopped as the carriage settled. He waited a second to make sure it wouldn't spontaneously turn back on—a not uncommon occurrence with carriages, for some reason—and when it didn't, Aidan got out and smoothed his shirt. He was wearing a white button-up under a dark purple V-neck sweater, and his nicest—but not his favorite—pair of pants. He didn't usually dress up for a license renewal, but he also didn’t usually wait until the last moment to get it renewed. Looking nice couldn't hurt.
When he decided the shirt was as smooth and wrinkle free as it was going to get, he looked up at the DMS building. If it weren't for the large amount of people coming and going from the four sets of doors in the front, it wouldn't have looked remarkable at all. It was five stories high, perfectly square, with exactly ten evenly spaced, identical windows per floor on every side of the building. In other words, it looked exactly like every D
MS building Aidan had ever gone to. It was comforting. Centering. He liked knowing that, no matter what craziness happened in his life, he could still walk into any DMS in the country and find his way to the Wizard's Licensing Department blindfolded.
Second floor, fifth office on the right, past the women's bathroom and the Office of City Planning and Refurbishment. He liked the second floor. It was where all the unimportant, boring offices were. Not like the third floor, which had all the administrative offices, or the fourth floor with its DMS agents and interrogation rooms.
Not that I'll ever have any reason to go there. People like me don't need to be scared of the fourth floor.
Completely unlike Eallair. Aidan would bet money Eallair had probably seen the fourth floor more than once. Most likely the interrogation rooms. Most people would be mortified if they were called into an interrogation room, but Aidan suspected Eallair would just grin and happily admit it if he was asked, then go into great detail about how infuriating he was to whoever was questioning him.
Aidan sighed. Made up scenario or not, he should really disapprove of Eallair's attitude towards authority. He did disapprove of it. But it also made him want to smile.
He shook his head and started walking up the short flight of stairs to the landing, which stretched out fifty feet in front of him and ended at the front of the building. Thoughts like that weren't part of putting the past week behind him. Still…he couldn't help but wonder what Eallair was doing.
Probably something illegal.
Aidan snorted. At least he probably wasn't doing terrorist things. Aidan had also decided Eallair wasn't a terrorist. A terrorist wouldn't put himself in danger to save a wizard. They didn't do things like that. They blew up buildings and…other terrorist things. He just couldn't picture Eallair blowing up—
Boom!
Aidan had barely walked two steps on the landing when there was a loud explosion from the DMS building. His head shot up, and he stared in terrified disbelief at the huge burst of fire that blew out one of the windows on the fifth floor. All around him, people were screaming and running away, and Aidan was two seconds away from joining them when he saw someone throw themselves through the flames and out of the burning window. He had the sudden, insane urge to run and try to catch the person before they hit the ground head-first.
