Dawn and Devilry

by S. Usher Evans

  "No. No spices whatsoever," I said. "I'd read about them in a book, but this…"

  "Well, you ain't seen nothin' yet," she said, picking up the cheesy triangle that had burned me before. "Try this now."

  I closed my eyes and bit off a tentative piece. Like the garlic bread, it was an unfamiliar taste, but delicious.

  "Good, huh?" she said, wiping the corners of her mouth.

  "Amazing," I said, furrowing my brow. I'd had cheese for breakfast nearly my entire life, but it had never tasted so rich and full. Perhaps even our livestock had suffered from a lack of non-magically grown food, as we had. I'd never thought about the food the Charmers gave to their animals. I doubted there was anything real left in the village.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Just thinking about our food," I said. "I wonder if it's the reason so many of us die from magical rot."

  She grimaced. "What's that?"

  "It's an illness that slowly drains your magic from your body. It usually sets on around the fiftieth birthday, if not sooner. It's rare for someone in New Salem to age past sixty-five." I looked at the bread in my hand. "And I'd wager eating magically-enhanced food might be the cause of it."

  "Geez," she said. "My great-uncle is ninety. I think. We don't die early."

  I nodded, but my mind was back in New Salem. "I wonder if I could bring food back to them."

  "I mean…why can't you?" she asked.

  I envisioned Alexandra's face when I handed her a piece of garlic bread—or pizza. "I'll have to be covert about it. They don't do well with change. And they might ask questions I'm not ready to answer…"

  "So, like…you haven't told anyone about the tear yet?" she asked.

  "No, and I'm not sure how to tell them about it," I said. "Or even if I should. My mother and my fellow apprentice, Cyrus, are one thing—they are fairly well-read and at least understand that this world exists. But there are five hundred others, and many can't even read. To bring them here? They might die of shock." I looked at the bread again. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to help them, if I can."

  She picked at the tablecloth. "You aren't going to tell anyone at all?"

  I imagined Cyrus swaggering down the street. He wouldn't be bothered by the differences—and wouldn't care about Mora's desire to keep magic secret from the nonmagicals. He'd start flinging attack spells as soon as he could. Besides that, there was some selfish glee at knowing I'd done what he couldn't.

  "I suppose I could never tell them," I said slowly. "Once my induction match occurs, I'd be free from Alexandra."

  "Then what would you do?"

  I turned to the Colosseum picture again. "See things like that until the day I died."

  "Well, what's stopping you from seeing it now?" She sat up. "We could go. Right now."

  "Right now?" I blinked. I'd never considered the prospect. I had no idea how far away Rome was, but I was sure it was farther than I'd ever transported before.

  But something about her smile made me ready for anything.

  "Sure, let's go."

  Nine

  "Have I ever transported across the ocean?" I scratched my chin as I followed Mora down another dark alley where we could transport. "No, never. I've only just seen an ocean."

  "I've only done it once before, with my mom," she said. "But you seem like a smart guy. I bet you could do it without trying."

  Her confidence in me was nice, but my stomach turned uncomfortably. Transporting from one end of New Salem to the other wasn't difficult. But the idea of traveling across oceans and continents?

  She took my hands in hers, squeezing them. Once again, her eyes took me captive with a mix of mischievous and kindness. "Hey, if you need a refresher, I can help."

  "Perhaps," I admitted, grateful she didn't seem to think less of me for it.

  "So it's all about letting your magic go," she said, sliding her fingers through mine and sending chills up my arms. "Mom always says it's smarter than I am, so you gotta just let it do what it does."

  "Alexandra says the same thing," I murmured then inhaled deeply. "Very well. Let me see what I can do."

  With her hands tethering me to the ground, I retreated into the recesses of my mind and let my magic loose. It was tentative at first, sharing my trepidation, like a baby taking its first steps. Together, we reached the edge of the village, finding water.

  And then I let it go.

  My eyes grew wet as my magic took in the whole world—all of it. I'd thought the stars in the night sky had been vast. The ocean, too. But it was nothing compared to mountains and valleys, green pastures so verdant they couldn't possibly be real, sights so beautiful I had no words to describe them. I wanted to see the world, but now—just as with the library—I became aware of my own mortality.

  Mora swiped my cheek with her fingertips. "Why are you crying?" she asked.

  I opened my eyes to gaze into hers. "It's just…I never thought things could be so beautiful. And I want to see it all, but I don't think I'll ever live long enough to."

  She smiled and wiped my other cheek. "Then why don't we start now, and see as much as we can? Starting with Rome."

  I nodded and closed my eyes once more, asking the magic to find the place in my mind's eye—and then to find us a desolate spot. Then, once I was confident, I enveloped us both in my magic, taking extra care to surround Mora with more magic than previously, and physically pulling her into an embrace. She rested her head on my shoulder and for a brief moment, I forgot what I was doing.

  Then, I let the magic transport us to the darkness. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I regretted using so much magic, for it left me dizzy and swaying. Luckily, Mora's embrace kept me on my feet, and she giggled.

  "You all right?" she asked, stepping back just enough to look me in the eye.

  I nodded, even as I blinked away spots. My sluggish brain achingly resumed normal speed. More senses caught up, too—smells, sounds, how she felt in my arms. I shook my head once to clear the rest of the fog then noticed things were much darker here.

  "What's wrong? Why is it dark here?" I asked with a frown. Could something horrible have happened to Rome in the past three hundred years?

  "Probably because it's like nine at night," she said, gently stepping out of my embrace. "Time difference."

  I furrowed my brow. "Time…difference?"

  "Oh boy, I'm gonna have to get you a book or something," she said, although the smile on her face said she wasn't annoyed. Once again, she threaded her fingers through mine as she led me out of the darkened alley. She explained how the world rotated, and how each section of the globe had a different time, but I lost her about halfway through the conversation. As much as I enjoyed hearing her talk, the bustle of the city was too much. The cars that had been in Salem were present in Rome, although they looked much different here. Everything was different, in fact. The central road was less a road and more a hallway, with towering buildings on either side.

  "C'mon," Mora said, tugging at my hand.

  We walked along a tall wall resembling a castle with turrets and long walkways along the edge. I lazily dragged my hand along the stone, scarcely able to believe this was real. I was really in Rome. Not for the first time, I wondered if this was a dream. Perhaps Cyrus had hit me too hard during a sparring session. For how could someone like me have traveled through the tear to a place as beautiful as this, with a blonde beauty guiding me down the street?

  If it was a dream, I'd enjoy it until I woke up.

  The passersby spoke in a language I'd never heard before, which Mora explained was a language called Italian. She stopped two of them and asked for directions, a comical episode that featured a lot of hand waving and pointing, but she returned to hold my hand.

  Newer buildings had been constructed around the older buildings, giving the scene a mismatched appearance. I drank in the sights and smells—even the unpleasant ones.

  "So what do you think?" she asked. "Is it better than you read about in your books
?"

  "I think…" I swallowed hard. "I think it's better than I ever could have imagined."

  "Oh yeah? Well, look over there." She pointed.

  I turned, and my heart stopped. The massive stone structure was crumbling, but the parts that still stood towered over the street. We walked closer, the Colosseum growing with each step. Finally, we stood beneath it and it was all I could do to just stare. I would never get enough of this feeling.

  Mora stood beside me, her fingers intertwined with mine. I snuck a glance at her; her eyes were wide and there was a smile toying on her lips.

  "I would've thought this boring to you," I said.

  Her cheeks reddened. "I've never seen it before either. It's pretty cool up close, you know?"

  "Thank you for bringing me here," I said softly.

  "You brought us here," she said. "I just gave you directions."

  "Yes, but…" I turned to her. "Thank you. This means a lot to me."

  She grinned. "Want to see what else we can find?"

  With Mora leading the way, we walked down streets and alleys, gaping at structures and statues that rose from the streets. Mora pointed out a few she knew, and we guessed at those that she didn't.

  "And that over there is the statue of Peter the Perturbed," she said, pointing to a large man standing. "He was memorialized for telling kids to get off his property."

  I laughed, more at the way she'd lowered her voice and furrowed her brow. I was fairly sure that one she was making up.

  "I can't tell if you find me funny because you don't know any better, or if you actually think I'm…well, funny," she said after a moment.

  "I'm a little behind, but…I'm not laughing at you, if that's what you're thinking."

  She shrugged. "I don't know, it's just…nobody's ever found me this funny before." She half-smiled. "Then again, I've never had this much fun with anyone before, either."

  I couldn't disagree. Despite most of our conversation centering on explaining things to me, talking with Mora was easy. I was enjoying the world, but I was also enjoying the company.

  "This has been the best day of my life," I said honestly.

  She beamed, and we kept walking. "So, like…do you have a girlfriend back in New Salem?"

  "Girl friends? There are girls, but none I'm very close with."

  "No, I meant like…a girlfriend," she said. "Someone you go out with?"

  I shook my head, still not understanding.

  "Like someone you kiss?" Mora said, her face growing redder as she stumbled over her words.

  "Oh." Realization dawned. "No, I'm afraid it's not really something Warriors concern ourselves with."

  "Really? Why not?"

  "Love is weakness, or so they say," I said. "It's the reason my mother sent me to another Warrior to raise. Attachment gets in the way of…well, whatever Warriors do."

  She frowned. "That's horrible. So how do you get married and all that?"

  "Warriors don't get married," I said with a hint of sadness. But her questions piqued my curiosity. "Why do you ask?"

  "No reason." She turned her red cheeks away from me.

  I was about to press further, but we'd reached a crowded square. There, in the center, was a sculpture that seemed too lifelike to be stone. The center figure's cloak floated effortlessly in a permanent wind, his gaze angry and strong toward the other figures. Each of the statues erupting from the earth as if coming from the depths of hell itself.

  "This is…incredible," I said after a moment. "What is it?"

  "The…Trevi fountain," Mora said, squinting at a book on a nearby stand. "Made of marble."

  I shook my head. "They had to have used magic to create this."

  "Nope," she said, smiling up at me. "Nonmagicals made it. Carved it from stone."

  It seemed impossible that stone could be manipulated in such a way. I couldn't even fathom how a nonmagical would even begin to do something so complex. The statues were practically moving, yet remained frozen.

  "You're crying again," she said, wiping my cheek.

  "I'm just so…stunned," I said, bowing my head. "I'm sorry if—"

  I turned, and yet again, was taken with the sight of her. The freckles on her face, the upward turn of her lips. She was full of energy and beauty. And I knew if I never returned to this place, I would treasure the memory of her face, just as it was in that moment, for the rest of my life.

  "You keep looking at me like that," she said, her voice quieter than it had been. "Like you can't believe you're looking at me."

  "I can't." I wrenched my gaze from her to the stone structure before me. "I can't believe any of this exists. I know soon I'll wake up and be back in New Salem. I'll have to scrub the floors and make the fire to boil the water. Then, I'll be forced to spar with Cyrus morning and afternoon. And then, I'll be back at the edge of New Salem, trying different potion concoctions to create a tear to a girl I dreamed about."

  She smiled. "And if this is only a dream, what else would you do?"

  I was about to answer, but I was bumped by a couple giggling with each other. They spoke in a language I didn't understand and held something between them. Then with their backs turned, they tossed the metal into the water once, twice, then, with a look at each other, three times. They shared a kiss, and walked away, holding each other as they did so.

  "What are they doing?" I asked, noticing others were also throwing metal with their backs turned. It wasn't just couples, either—families young and old were throwing things into the fountain.

  "Superstition," said an old man nearby. He was the same one selling the thick books with Rome plastered on the front of them. "Throw one coin," he said, mimicking the movement. "Return to Rome. Two coin, new romance. Three coin, marriage!"

  "We should do it," Mora said, taking my hand and pulling me closer to the fountain. She procured a small metal coin from her pocket and handed me one.

  "So what are we doing?"

  "It's like…a myth," she said. "If you throw one coin in the fountain, you'll definitely return to Rome. Two…" She glanced up at me from beneath her thick lashes. "You'll find new love. And three, you'll get married."

  All of those sounded like great things to me. Together, we turned and stood shoulder-to-shoulder then chucked the metal coin with our right hand over our left shoulder, as others were doing.

  "That's one," Mora said, a little breathlessly. "That means we'll return to Rome."

  "I think I'd return here anyway," I said.

  "Do you…want to throw another in?"

  The nervousness in her voice drew my attention to her face, which had turned pink. Her breath was coming in shorter bursts, but her eyes—her beautiful blue eyes the color of the ocean—were full of excitement.

  "What was the second?" I asked, noticing how close we stood, and how very soft her lips looked. The freckles that playfully dotted her cheeks. The golden locks that brushed against my fingers as I slid my hands around her cheeks.

  "That we'd find new love," she whispered, her gaze dropping to my mouth.

  "I don't think I need a coin to do that," I said.

  And with a move that was mostly instinct, I pressed my lips softly to hers. The quiet exhalation exhilarated me, as did the sweet taste of her.

  Just as I let myself fall deeper into this feeling, there was a small tug at my magic and my heart dropped into my stomach. Even across the ocean, I remained tethered to Alexandra.

  "What is it?" Mora asked.

  "I have to go," I said, wishing with everything I had that it wasn't so. "Alexandra is calling."

  "Bummer," she said, chewing on her lip.

  I couldn't help myself and I kissed her again. She responded, sliding her lips over mine and tangling her hands in my hair. I never wanted this moment to end—but Alexandra tugged with more fervor. The last thing I wanted was for her to come searching for me and find the tear on her own.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I wish…I wish I could stay."

  "Will you come
back tomorrow?" she asked.

  I grinned. "Absolutely."

  Ten

  "Where have you been?" Alexandra asked as I walked into her office. "It's not like you to miss dinner."

  "I apologize. I was detained."

  Alexandra stared me down, and it was all I could do to keep a grin off my face. I hoped she couldn't smell Mora's scent on me, for it was filling my nose. I could even taste her on my lips.

  "Go to bed," she said, returning to the book she'd been reading.

  I practically floated to my room, my mind filled with dreams of what was to come. Would we go back to Rome? Would we instead go to Verona? Venice? Somewhere else entirely?

  Nothing in my life had ever been so exciting and distracting. Just thinking of Mora's face—especially when the corners of her pink lips turned upward—sent my heart pounding. I understood why love could be a weakness to someone like Alexandra or Cyrus. Mora took up every one of my thoughts, even crowding out the desire to be inducted. Even though I'd only known her a short time, I was oddly willing to do anything for her. How quickly this all-encompassing feeling had settled in. And how sad that it was frowned upon in New Salem. Had Alexandra ever felt this, or was she so cold she'd never allowed the telltale flutter? Did she feel anything for my father, or was my birth mere duty?

  I slept little, but it didn't bother me much. Even Cyrus had noted my happy demeanor, trying in vain to disrupt it with his snide remarks about sparring with Alexandra. But nothing would deter me. Not when I had grand plans to return to Mora today and explore the world further.

  "Gavon," Alexandra said. "You will continue cleaning the library today. It has become dirty again."

  That broke my reverie. "I cleaned it top to bottom yesterday."

  She sipped her tea. "Do you believe me to be simple, Gavon? Or believe I couldn't discern a magical cleaning job from a manual one?"

  "Well, you let Cyrus get away with cleaning magically all the time. I thought it might be the key to my induction match," I said before I thought better of it.

  Alexandra put down the book and clicked her tongue—and my magic was gone. Or rather, it was tightly bound away from my grasp. The food I'd so carefully prepared had also vanished before I could take my first bite.