“What’s a mage team?” I reached for the paper, and she snatched it back, holding it high in the air. “Are you sure—”
Harps leaped from his position in the corner, grabbing at the ceiling, and he used a rafter to swoop low over Rosehip’s head. He snatched the paper out of her hand and landed on my shoulder.
Great work, Harps, I told him, taking the paper from him. I unfolded it, saw that it contained an address as Rosehip had promised, then pocketed it.
Harps decided he’d had a great victory over the forces of evil and jumped onto the table to do a victory dance, making rude gestures at Rosehip. She ignored him and started shuffling the tarot deck. I smiled at Harps, glad that the distress my earlier remark had caused had disappeared as fast as it had arrived.
I had what I had come for, so I stood, stretching my arm out for Harps. He stuck his tongue out at Rosehip one final time, then scrambled up my arm. I was about to thank the old woman, but then I stopped myself. Harps had given me the address, not her. She had just made me jump through hoops. So I just gave her a nod, then turned and reached for the violet curtain at the doorway.
When I heard the slap of a card hit the table, I froze.
“Well, look at that,” she said. “You’ll never guess what card turned up.”
I didn’t have to guess. It wasn’t possible that I knew, but I did. I could picture it in my mind. The Chariot. The card with my face. I slowly turned around, and there it was on the table exactly as I had imagined it. A shiver ran up my spine.
“I had to nearly tie the boy down to get him to stay earlier, and now he doesn’t want to leave,” Rosehip said. “What has changed, I wonder?”
“Just turn the next card.”
“His friendliness hasn’t improved,” Rosehip muttered. “With that attitude, I don’t know why he expects anyone to help him. I’ve become curious, though.” She turned a second card, placing it beside the first. “The Lovers,” she said.
I stared at the two cards side by side, seeing the cards, but also seeing beyond them. I wasn’t sure exactly how I did it, though the sensations were similar to how I communicated with Harps, but I could read meaning in the cards.
“You are seeing what I never did.” Rosehip studied me. “What does The Lovers card represent?”
“Team,” I said.
Rosehip rubbed her hands together. “Just after I’ve given you a slip of paper headed with the words the mage team.” She half lifted the next card on the deck, then stopped. “Should we continue? Or just stop this hocus pocus mumbo jumbo now?”
Harps jumped onto the table, stepping onto The Chariot and The Lovers cards, and he tried to pull the deck out of Rosehip’s hands.
“I’ll take that as you wishing to continue.” Rosehip grinned as she flipped the next card over, placing it on top of and diagonally across the other two. The Devil.
Harps shrieked and scrambled onto my lap, and, in a flurry of limbs, squirmed under my jacket. I shifted on my seat to allow Harps room to find refuge in one of the inner pockets.
“Despite what your familiar believes, the devil doesn’t have to be an ominous card. It can have many meanings. In this case…” She looked up. “What have we learned about your new team?”
My throat was dry as I opened my mouth to speak. The word came out in a cracked whisper.
“Traitor.”
Chapter 2
“That’s not good,” Rosehip said. “True prophecy happens rarely, so it shouldn’t be taken lightly. Perhaps you should burn that address I gave you.”
My gaze remained glued to the cards. I had never experienced anything like that before. The three cards should have meant nothing to me. Instead, I could understand them as easily as if I were reading a newspaper headline. The team I was due to join, this mage team, was going to have a traitor.
“Slate.” Rosehip clicked her fingers in front of my face. “Slate, are you still with me?”
I dragged my gaze away from the cards. “Yes?”
“The warning. You shouldn’t ignore it.”
“I’ll deal with it.” I didn’t know how, but this was my first solo mission, and I wasn’t going to return without succeeding in whatever was required of me. Dagger had no interest in excuses.
I quickly stood, knocking the stool over. All at once, the air felt heavy and oppressive. The statues that I had laughed at earlier now leered down at me. “I have to…” I turned, lifted the curtain, and exited the wagon.
Sunlight slanted into my eyes, and I raised my arm to shield my face, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the light. The brightness took me by surprise. I hadn’t been inside the dusty, dim interior of Rosehip’s wagon for that long, but already it felt like I was emerging from a different world.
I descended the steps, then stopped, lowering my arm. A group of men confronted me. The largest of them was the strongman, his massive shaved head towering over the others, his skimpy leotard stretched across bulging muscles. He didn’t worry me, nor did most of the others. I focused on the two with green auras.
One was Lighton, his red beard streaked with mud from our earlier encounter. He still hadn’t lost his grin. His companion, a black-bearded fellow, looked much less friendly. Beside him, a Husky—clearly the black-bearded man’s familiar—crouched, a low growl rumbling from its throat.
Harps poked his head out over the lapel of my coat to see what was going on.
I’ll deal with the men, I told Harps. I’ll leave the Husky to you. What do you say, boy?
Unsurprisingly, his head disappeared as fast as it had appeared. Harps wasn’t the bravest familiar in the world.
The music of the fair had a strained quality, its previous energy lost with the musicians clearly not paying much attention to their instruments. Most of the other acts had stopped. Only the patrons of the fair were unaware of what was going on.
“What do you lot want?” I asked.
“It’s you who have invaded our caravan,” the black-bearded man said. “You are the one who must answer to us.”
“May I introduce my cousin, Rain,” Lighton said.
“My business is completed,” I said. “If you’ll all step aside, I’ll be on my way. None of you have to get hurt.”
“You expect us to allow a Blackthorn to walk in here, shove us around, and stroll out again?” Rain said.
“That would be the wisest option,” I said. “Though I’m not sure anyone has ever accused a Hawke of being smart.” Dagger had sent me to fight vampires, but he wouldn’t be too disappointed if I took on a few Hawkes instead.
The strongman surged forward, and Lighton grabbed him by the shoulder, holding him back. The Husky jumped closer, snarling and barking.
“What’s going on here?” Rosehip asked from behind me. “Down, Briar.”
The dog retreated, though its teeth remained bared. “This Blackthorn has come to insult us,” Rain said, leaning down to stroke Briar’s fur.
“I’m not sure what’s wrong with him,” Lighton said. “Perhaps he has a death wish.”
“It’s called bravery,” I said. “Look it up in the dictionary.”
Lighton laughed. “Strong as an ox, and seemingly as dumb as one. By the dragongods, I’m starting to like him.”
“You stink like ox shit,” I told him.
“Idiot,” Rosehip said into my ear. She pushed me aside, moving around me to address the rest of the men. “He has come on business of the kings, and he has more important things to do than get involved in a playground scuffle. As should the rest of you. Now scram.”
One by one, the men turned and shuffled away. “We’ll meet again,” Rain said before he too left. Punctuating his master’s statement, Briar gave a final bark, then took to Rain’s heel.
Rosehip shook her head at me. “You realize the Hawkes didn’t do what Dagger accuses them of.”
“I know your family denies it.”
“It’s stupid to shed blood over a misunderstanding. We helsings have always feuded too much
among ourselves, and I have never really understood why. We have plenty of common enemies after all. The kings are supposed to make sure things don’t get out of control, but they haven’t done a great job lately. Though that was probably why you were sent here.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to spell everything out for you.” She hesitated. “Other than giving you the address, there is something else I’m supposed to tell you. Given everything that’s happened, I’m not sure if I will.”
“Tell me or don’t,” I said. “Just get on with.” The old woman had delayed me long enough; I wanted to get on with my mission. Twilight was descending, mottling the park in a mixture of slanting orange light and a deep purplish shadow.
“Your rudeness makes it easier to decide. I’ll let things play out.” She gave me a toothless grin. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you find out.”
The glint in her eye worried me. “If it’s importa—”
“Instead, I’ll give you this.” She held out the tarot deck we had used earlier. “As a gift from Hawke to Blackthorn.”
“I don’t need a Hawke gift.”
“Are you refusing?” The wrinkles in Rosehip’s face hardened into stiff lines.
I hesitated. For a helsing gypsy, refusing a gift was a serious insult. On the other hand, Dagger would never have accepted anything from a Hawke.
As if reading my thoughts, Rosehip said, “Dagger may have trained you, but you are not him.”
Harps’s head poked out above the lapel of my jacket. Rosehip offered the deck of cards to him, and his little black fingers curled gleefully around it. He made a sound almost like a human chuckle, then disappeared back inside my coat with the cards.
Rosehip smiled. “Since you and your familiar are so close, I’ll consider that a gracious acceptance of my gift.” She reached out and clutched my forearm, her grip as strong as oak. “Our people have a tendency to cling to the past. But things are changing fast, and we have to be prepared to change with them. Perhaps you receiving a prophecy is a sign that you’ll be important in what’s to come. Threads are fraying, and my old bones sense that things will get worse before they get better. Creation’s need for balance is powerful, and when force meets counterforce, who knows what will survive?” She released my arm, and backed up the steps of her wagon. “The future won’t be shaped by me, nor by Dagger, either. Whatever the dragongods require of us, it’s the young who have the capacity to adapt. Or, at least, so I hope.” She ducked inside the wagon, the violet curtain rippling once behind her.
I remained still for several moments trying to make sense of what Rosehip had said. Then I forced myself into motion. It had just been the babblings of an old woman.
As I walked back through the fair, I was aware of many gazes on me, but I didn’t see any sign of Lighton or Rain. I kept my back straight and didn’t return any of the looks. I left the circle of wagons, then continued through Fairmount Park, heading toward the city. I quickly became aware that I was being followed. I didn’t speed up to try to lose the tail; I just kept discreetly observant of what was happening behind me to get an idea of the threat. My worry eased when I realized that it was just the two children I had noticed earlier who followed. Either one of their mentors had told them to make sure that I didn’t return to the fair, or they had taken it on themselves.
Exiting Fairmount Park, I started across the bridge that led into the city center. I paused midway across, then I took out the paper Rosehip had given me to examine it in more detail. At the top was my name, Slate Blackthorn. Underneath that were the words The Mage Team. Then, Washington Street and Thirteenth. Finally, the exact address. I flipped it over to make sure the other side was blank, then pocketed it.
I glanced back, catching sight of one of the children watching me from beside a group of trees. They clearly didn’t intend to follow me outside the park. It was time to forget the Hawkes and move on with the mission. This mage team, whatever it was.
Several times, I stopped passersby to ask for directions. I had passed through many small towns and villages, but had never been in a big city before. At first, it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. The streets were wide and lined with skinny trees. At one point, I saw the Rocky steps in the distance and had the impulse to race over and see how fast I could ascend them. That would have given the tourists something memorable to witness.
The closer I got to the center of the city, though, the more I disliked the place. Buildings crowded closer and grew higher; the traffic condensed and slowed; people mobbed the sidewalks like locusts, only more annoying; and the background noise expanded from a dull, distant warble to an intrusive cacophony. I didn’t understand why people would choose to live packed inside cities like termites inside mounds when the whole beautiful wide world awaited them. Though I guessed I should be glad. The countryside mightn’t be as peaceful if everyone saw sense and evacuated the cities.
I didn’t get as many strange looks as I had expected. In villages, people would stop and stare when I walked down the street. Here in the city, though, people came in all shapes and sizes and costumes. It was I who almost stopped and stared several times. A bulky gypsy in a yellow hunting coat didn’t register, it seemed.
Though when Harps stuck his head out of the coat pocket, a woman going the other way stumbled and almost fell.
You don’t like it here, do you? I thought.
Harps climbed up onto my shoulder. It smells of gasoline fumes and pigeon shit.
Do you want to go home?
Maybe we’ll stay here a while first. Harps had been looking forward to an extended break from Fierce and Glade, and some unpleasant smells weren’t going to change that.
You might change your mind pretty fast. Harps had only been my familiar for a year, and we hadn’t gotten into any serious scrapes together. I wasn’t sure how he’d cope with true battle, and Philadelphia was known as a vampire stronghold.
Even though I hadn’t learned any details, the magnitude of the task reared higher since my meeting with Rosehip. Perhaps when she had spoken of force and counterforce colliding, that had been nothing except the babblings of a woman a few years short of senility, but the prophecy I had experienced had been real. I remembered the feeling of dread as I’d learned that I’d have to deal with a traitor. How could I work with this mage team, knowing what I did?
Spotting a policeman on a corner, I signaled for Harps to hide, and he disappeared back into my coat. I didn’t want to be asked any awkward questions about animal permits.
By the time I turned onto Washington Street, it was fully dark, or what passed for dark in a place where light pollution reigned. Several blocks further on, I found Thirteenth Street, then the apartment building I was looking for.
The nearest streetlamps were broken, leaving the doorway cloaked in shadow. I stepped back to look up at the building in more detail. It was more decrepit than most of the other buildings on the street, with several windows boarded up. I ascended the steps to the door. A row of beepers lined up against the apartment numbers, but I hesitated to buzz up. What was I going to say? That I was a helsing warrior looking for the mage team?
When a woman emerged, I rushed forward to grab the door before it closed, intending to go directly to the apartment door. It was only when I had passed her that I noticed a glimmer of white around the woman, evidence that she worked with mage magic. Was she who I had come to find?
“Are you…” I started to ask, then stopped because she had also asked me a question, and our voices jumbled together. I nodded for her to go first.
“Are you our new gypsy?” she asked.
Her question answered mine. “I’m not sure. Are you trading in an old one?”
She stared at me for a moment, then let out a nervous chuckle. “Was that a joke?”
“Clearly not a good one.”
She chuckled again, then nodded toward the door. “Our den’s in there. I call it Camp Danielle, but the name hasn’
t taken off yet.” She held out her hand. “I’m Danielle, by the way.”
“Slate Blackthorn.” I shook her hand.
“Owww!” She retrieved her hand from my grasp, then massaged the knuckles of her right hand with her left. “I come in peace. No need to pulverize my fingerbones into dust.” Danielle was short with strawberry blonde hair, and she wore rectangular black-rimmed glasses, a dark hoodie, and jeans. I guessed her age to be mid-twenties, perhaps two or three years older than me. “Actually, it’s lucky you arrived now. I need someone, and no one else is around. Come.”
She gave my coat a tug, and Harps popped up and hissed at her.
She stumbled back and landed hard on her backside, staring up at Harps with a shocked look. “You have a monkey.” She slapped her forehead. “Course you do. Of course the big gypsy beefcake would have a monkey hidden about his person.” She giggled, then her laugh cut off, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out a compass. She checked it, then scrambled to her feet. She slapped dust from her backside and hurried down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. “We have to go. Come on.” She hurried off without checking to make sure I followed.
What do you think, Harps, do we follow the crazy woman?
I like her, Harps thought. She smells nice.
Can you smell traitor? I asked. I glanced up at the boarded windows of the building, then sighed. No one else was home, she’d said, so I might as well find out what Danielle was up to.
I quickly caught up with her. She checked her compass at an intersection, then swung left.
I walked alongside her for a couple of blocks, then decided that she wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. “So,” I said. “Searching for magnetic north, are we?”
She glanced up at me with a confused expression on her face. “North?” Slowly, realization dawned. “Oh, the compass. North. Another joke, right?”
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