God of Magic 7

by Logan Jacobs

  A wall of guards appeared and several of them began gesturing at Maruk and talking rapidly in Pars. The only word I could understand was orc, but clearly the notion of an orc wandering around Maraz was more than the guards could take in.

  Cat went over to one of the guards and began talking in Pars. There was more gesturing by both men, and then the Persan was waving his hands in the air. Cat pulled the man over to the side, and their conversation in Pars resumed. I’m pretty sure a few coins found their way from Cat’s palm to that of the Persan man, and a moment later, the Persan returned to his fellow guards and shooed Maruk across the bridge.

  “Maybe we should warn the women,” Maruk suggested once we were finally inside Maraz.

  “Imogen will make sure everyone is dressed appropriately,” Cat replied as he led us along a twisting road. “They don’t usually harass women unless they aren’t covered or don’t have an escort.”

  “I hope Lena can act manly enough to get them through that,” I commented.

  “They may just think she’s a eunuch,” Cat mused. “Which would still be an appropriate escort.”

  “Eunuch?” Maruk gulped as he looked around the street. “Do they still do that here?”

  “They do,” Cat replied. “Which is why I never commit a crime while I’m here.”

  “What about other places?” I asked as I again thought of Imogen’s flight across the rooftops of Ovrista.

  “Well, sometimes desperate measures are called for,” the elf replied. “But that shouldn’t surprise you if you’re working with Imogen.”

  Cat led us on through the streets of Maraz. The buildings here were taller than in Ovrista and packed tightly together. The wide avenue that had joined the bridge had narrowed and was now just wide enough for a small cart. The only thing I knew for sure was that we were climbing uphill, past market stalls filled with exotic fruits and vendors selling kebabs on the corners. The air smelled of cumin and dust and old sweat. We passed a public fountain where women garbed in long, loose gowns and headscarves gossiped while they filled earthenware jugs and kept an eye on their children.

  At last, the road flattened out, and the buildings spread further apart. There was room for small yards and side alleys and the signs over the doors were more tasteful. I heard Maruk sniff in approval and Cat grinned at the orc.

  Cat led us to a building that had been painted a bright shade of blue that reminded me of the roofs in Santorini. There was no sign but Cat led us inside without hesitation.

  The shop was dimly lit and littered with display cases as well as random objects that looked like they had been left wherever the store owner had set them down. A small bell placed over the door tinkled when we walked in, and a very rotund Persan emerged from behind a curtain with a smile on his face.

  “Hello, Harfouche,” Cat called out jovially. The Persan’s smile dimmed a few watts.

  “Cat,” the Persan said as he looked at me and Maruk. “Who are your friends?”

  “Adventurers,” Cat replied with a shrug. “You know how it is.”

  “Indeed,” Harfouche said as he turned towards me and Maruk. I saw him gulp as he peered at the orc, but then he turned on the full wattage of his smile and walked over to me. He grasped my hand and gave it a mighty shake that went on for so long I thought a few of my teeth might rattle loose.

  “We need a few more supplies,” Cat said as he walked around the store and looked in the display cases.

  “I can’t make any promises,” Harfouche replied. “There have been rule changes since the last time you were here.”

  “So I heard,” the elf said as he picked up a small statue carved out of jade.

  Harfouche scuttled over to Cat and slid the statue from the elf’s hand. He uttered something that sounded like a prayer or an apology as he set the statue back in its spot. Cat grinned for a moment but he looked appropriately solemn when Harfouche turned to face him.

  “That is not a sale item,” the shopkeep insisted.

  “My apologies,” Cat replied sincerely, “I did not realize that you added another icon to your collection.”

  “One can never have too many shrines to Otrein,” Harfouche replied.

  I looked more closely around the shop and I noticed an army of small statues scattered around. They sat on the shelves and were tucked into corners and one even glared at me from the door lintel. They were made out of a variety of materials, from carved wood to glittering gold, and the largest one was about the size of my hand. Otrein might have had more shrines in this one room than the whole of Ovrista.

  “We’ll need some of the frogskins,” Cat said, “and some water stones. Let’s say a dozen of each.”

  “Of course,” Harfouche agreed. “May I also suggest some of the night lenses? They do wonders for protecting your eyes in the harsh desert sun.”

  “Do you have any that will fit my friend here?” Cat asked as he pointed a thumb in Maruk’s direction.

  “Oh, well, I don’t think they make any that large,” Harfouche hesitated.

  “Make it a dozen as well,” Cat sighed. “Maybe we can improvise something.”

  “Excellent,” Harfouche replied. “Anything else?”

  “Fire sticks,” Cat added. “Whatever you have left.”

  Harfouche paled, and he fiddled with one of the many rings he wore.

  “Fire sticks are on the banned list,” Harfouche stuttered.

  “I heard,” Cat replied casually. “But I doubt you had time to sell them all before the ban went into place, and I know you didn’t just destroy them like you were ordered to do.”

  “I had hoped that this silliness would pass soon, like so many of the others,” Harfouche said defensively. “But it’s been months now and the ban is still in place. I have done what I needed to do.”

  “In other words, you hid them,” Cat mused as he picked up another statue.

  “I have done what was required,” Harfouche insisted as he watched Cat study the statue.

  “What are fire sticks?” I asked.

  “Banned magic,” Harfouche said quickly as he finally reclaimed the statue.

  “Some local fire mages created them several years ago,” Cat explained. “They’re a handy weapon to have in case you come across one of the less friendly nomadic tribes while you’re in the desert. They let you shoot a lead ball at your target.”

  “A lead ball?” Maruk finally spoke.

  “It’s actually quite deadly,” Cat assured him, “which is no doubt why Farouk banned them.”

  “People were using them inside the city,” Harfouche pointed out. “It was a safety measure.”

  “Alas, I only learned of the ban when I returned to the city and had mine seized by the guards at the gate,” Cat sighed. “But I would prefer to have some if I’m going back to the desert. And I think my friends would as well.”

  “You would give a fire stick to someone who’s never fired one?” Harfouche protested. “You’ll just end up killing each other.”

  “I’ve used a gun,” I said.

  Cat, Maruk and Harfouche all turned to look at me in surprise.

  “A… gun?” Harfouche finally asked.

  “The… place that I come from has something similar but we call them guns,” I explained. “I’ve practiced at a shooting range before.”

  “There, you see,” Cat said triumphantly, “My friend here has handled such weapons before.”

  “And the orc?” Harfouche asked sceptically as he peered at Maruk.

  “I don’t use weapons,” Maruk replied indignantly.

  “What use does he have for weapons?” Cat quickly added.

  “I can’t,” Harfouche said with a shake of his head. “If you are caught with them inside the city, and they trace it back to me… No, I will not.”

  “We won’t get caught,” I replied. “We’re leaving as soon as we’re done here.”

  “No, no,” Harfouche repeated. “I will not. I will sell the other items, but not that.”

/>   Harfouche sighed and retreated through the doorway that led to the backroom. Cat sidled over to Maruk and signaled to the orc to lean in closer. Both Maruk and I complied.

  “Okay,” Cat whispered, “Now’s the time for you to act like a tough guy. When he comes back out, I’ll tell him that you’ll wreck his store if you have to so we can find the firesticks. Maybe if you threw a couple of things around so, he’ll believe you.”

  “I will not,” Maruk sniffed in an eerie repeat of Harfouche.

  “We really shouldn’t make the crossing without them,” Cat warned. “Even with mages, it’s not safe. And there’s a lot worse than a few nomads out there.”

  “Maybe if you knocked over that big cabinet,” I suggested to Maruk as I pointed to a very ugly piece of furniture that lurked beneath an equally ugly painting. “You’d be doing the world a favor.”

  “I don’t see that we need these things with you and Emeline along,” Maruk protested. “Not to mention Lavinia’s arrows, Yvaine’s skills with a blade--”

  “You don’t want them to get close enough to have to use a blade,” Cat cut in.

  “If Cat thinks we need it, then maybe we should play along,” I tried to assure Maruk. “And if you won’t do the cabinet, at least get rid of the painting.”

  Before Maruk could reply, Harfouche stepped back into the room with two bags and a stack of small boxes. He set them on the counter and looked expectantly at us. Cat opened the bags and each box and checked the contents.

  “No fire sticks,” he sighed.

  “No,” Harfouche agreed.

  “We really need those,” Cat insisted as he looked at Maruk.

  “I cannot help you,” Harfouche replied just as adamantly.

  “Then I’m afraid my friend here will just have to search your shop,” Cat replied. “And it may get messy.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Harfouche snapped. “Do not threaten me or I will have to take action of my own.”

  Cat raised his eyebrows at Maruk and gave him a small head bob. Maruk stood resolutely in his spot and gazed at one of the small statues of Otrein. Harfouche waited a moment, and when nothing happened, a smug look came over his face.

  I created a very tiny ball of fire and shot it at the orc’s butt. Maruk yelped and turned angrily as a wisp of smoke drifted towards the ceiling. Maruk glared at me, and I showed him another tiny fireball.

  “I’d hate for you to lose another shirt,” I murmured.

  Maruk actually growled at me, but he stepped towards the far wall where the cabinet and painting called out like a beacon. Maruk yanked the painting from the wall and threw the canvas against a coat stand. There was the sound of ripping fabric as one of the arms punctured the still life, and then painting and coat rack crumbled to the floor in a pile of crumbled wood and bad art.

  “Hideous!” Maruk exclaimed as he turned his attention to the cabinet.

  The orc pounded away with his fists, sending small pieces of wood sailing across the room. Cat, Harfouche, and I all ducked as one large chunk whistled by.

  “They might be in that locked chest over there,” Cat suggested helpfully over the sounds of destruction.

  “Stop!” Harfouche protested. “Enough! That cabinet was from the Nagva dynasty!”

  “Bah!” Maruk yelled as he took a final swing at the cabinet. “They didn’t have access to nuttall oak in the Nagva dynasty!”

  “What?” Harfouche stammered as Maruk moved towards a man-sized porcelain vase.

  “And I suppose you’re going to claim that this is a rare Texel dynasty vase?” Maruk huffed. “This is a shoddy imitation at best!”

  He grabbed the vase and threw it against the floor. It shattered into thousands of fragments, most of which sailed into the air and glittered briefly in the air before dropping onto every available surface. Harfouche squeaked and waved his hands for Maruk to stop.

  “And this!” Maruk declared as he held up some sort of stringed instrument. It reminded me of the lute that the singers in all those movies set in medieval times were always plucking at but the thing looked tiny in Maruk’s fist.

  “It’s truly from Calista!” Harfouche protested as he hurried over to the orc and tried to grab the instrument. Maruk held it up to his face for a closer study, leaving it just outside Harfouche’s reach.

  “About those fire sticks,” Cat said with a grin.

  “Yes, yes,” Harfouche cried out. “I have two left and several boxes of lead balls.”

  “We’ll take it all,” Cat replied.

  “And this,” Maruk added as he plucked at the lute. “It really does appear to be from Calista.”

  “Oh, uh, oh,” Harfouche muttered as he stared at the orc.

  Harfouche looked back and forth between the orc and the elf and then shrugged. With slumped shoulders, he disappeared into the backroom again. When he returned, he added what looked like two wands and four more small boxes to our pile. Cat picked up both of the fire sticks and studied them closely before nodding to Harfouche.

  “They’re in good shape,” Cat declared.

  “Never been fired except in the testing area,” Harfouche replied.

  I picked one up and did my own examination. Cat had said that the fire mages created these, but I could sense earth and air magic as well. There was a covered slot on top which I determined was for the small balls, and a trigger just below that. I felt like a real wizard when I pointed it, except that no spells leapt forth.

  Harfouche named his price for our goods, starting off another argument between the elf and the shopkeep. Maruk joined in as well, and I walked around the store while the three men haggled over the price. I heard the doorbell tinkle again and I looked over to see a young woman step inside. She took in the destruction, the three men at the counter, and backed out.

  Harfouche had seen her as well, and whether he was more concerned about losing another customer or that the woman might summon the city guard who would then find him in possession of a fire stick, Harfouche quickly ended the negotiations. Cat gave him a merry smile and quickly swept our purchases into a pair of sacks.

  “You owe me,” Harfouche called out as we stepped into the street.

  Cat took off, following a different path down the hill. There was little sunlight here, and Maruk and I both stumbled over lose cobblestones. Cat finally stopped on the edge of another public fountain. This one was smaller and much more basic. There were no women and children gathered here for the day’s gossip, only a pack of stray dogs and an old man slumped against the edge of the well.

  “Harfouche won’t press charges,” Cat assured us, “but that won’t stop the guard from looking.”

  “So you think the woman went to report us?” I asked.

  “Probably,” the elf replied with a shrug.

  “Something smells good,” Maruk commented as he sniffed the air. “Perhaps we could stop somewhere? Sample some of the wares?”

  “Hang on,” I said as I dug through my pack. “Let me just tell the rest of the gang that we’re done.”

  I finally found my pen and paper and pulled it out. There was just enough light that I could write across the page.

  “We’ve got a message,” I said. “I need more light.”

  “Over here,” Cat called as he crossed the small square and ducked into an alley. Just past the edge of the first building was a tiny park, with two lime trees and several rows of herbs. There was actually daylight back here, and I scanned the message from Aerin.

  “We need to go,” I said. “The harbormaster sent word that another ship from Altrua made it into port this morning. The passengers are being held up by customs because there were so many mages on the boat, but he expects they’ll be released soon. The rest of the Shadow Foxes are on their way to the Charter Gate.”

  “Drat,” Maruk sighed. “I was hoping they had all drowned.”

  I quickly wrote a note that said we’d finished our deal making and we're on our way to the Charter Gate. A moment later, another me
ssage popped up from Aerin.

  “We definitely need to move,” I said as I read Aerin’s response. “They’re outside the gate and they’re with the camels, but Lena’s potion is starting to have some side effects.”

  “Ha!” Maruk chortled. “I wonder what color she’s turned herself. Or maybe she’s sprouted feathers.”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” I replied as I turned to Cat. “How quickly can we be at the gate?”

  Cat took off without comment, and Maruk and I tried to keep up. We zigzagged across the city, slowly descending along winding streets and narrow alleys. Maruk was getting more attention now, and if the guard were looking for us, it wouldn’t be hard to track our progress through the city. Cat was nearly running by the time we made it to the vast flat stretch of city streets that ran parallel to the coastline. I could just see Maymak over our shoulders, and the long line of people that now moved slowly over the bridges.

  At last, we found ourselves before the Charter Gate. It was massive. It stood over one hundred feet high, and almost as wide. The upper portion was covered in blue and yellow tiles that formed a complex pattern of stars and knots. The vaulted entrance was nearly seventy feet deep and the interior was covered with a mosaic that depicted the local sea life. The gate itself was a massive structure, bound in iron and opened and closed by a complicated set of chains and levers.

  The traffic through the gate moved slowly, but at least it moved. The guards made cursory checks of those arriving at the city, but largely ignored those who were departing. They did look at Maruk again but Cat had a friendly conversation with the man in charge, a few more coins exchanged hands, and then we were outside the gate and in the glaring brightness of the desert.

  I’m not sure what I expected on this side of the gates. I knew that there would be people here, of course, and great caravans preparing for the trek, just as there had been in Gilamar. But this was larger and noisier than Gilamar, with hundreds of tents scattered around the area and more stretching along the length of the wall. There was an entire city out here, even if it was a temporary one.