by M. S. Verish
“You…do not…understand…” Arcturus tried to form the words, but they left his lips garbled. Kariayla’s fuzzy image did not stir from the ground. “What…?”
“It’s not magic, I’m afraid,” Bedrasius said. “It’s Toad’s Foot. The numbness will pass, but by then you’ll have reached Valesage.”
Arcturus could barely distinguish the man’s smile through his drooping eyelids.
“The Hounds have offered a decent reward for the both of you. Magic doesn’t frighten me like it does others. Survival, Arcturus. This is how the Prophet survived, and I regret that he was caught.”
7
Jinxed
“This ain’t good. Oh, this ain’t good at all.” He paced the cell nervously, glancing often at the two bodies near the front. “Jedinom take me. Two casters and another mark on the hand. Next they’ll cut off my hand… If the casters don’t kill me first.” He ran a hand through his mess of hair and winced.
There was a familiar sound from the corridor, a sound he had fervently hoped to hear. The only problem was the caster bodies blocking his way. He crept up to the front of the cell and stood next to the motionless figures, searching the darkness. A short and stocky shadow approached.
“I knew you’d come,” he whispered in relief. “I knew you’d get me outta here.”
“Jinx, you ass—how’d you—” The shadow looked at him, looked at the bodies, and shook its head. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.”
“I’ll tell ya later. Just get me out,” Jinx said, gripping the grille.
His partner set to work on the lock. Not a moment into his endeavor, he stopped and glared at the captive. “What’s this? You tried to pick it already?”
“What kinda thief you think I am if I didn’t?” Jinx defended. “Yeah, I tried. The pin broke in the lock. You can get it, right?”
“Only you would break the damn pin in the lock. Only you.”
“C’mon, Scorch. Not like I planned this.” Jinx tapped nervously on the grille as Scorch made another attempt.
“Sometimes I think ya do,” the other grumbled. “Anyways, there’s a little problem. And stop tappin’ the damn wall.”
Jinx stopped and leaned forward. “What problem?”
“Who’re your friends?” Scorch asked, nodding toward the heap.
“Casters. And never mind them. I wanna be outta here before they wake up.” He sighed. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, ya see, it’s like this. I’m gonna get you out, but then you gotta stay away.”
“’Cuz I like getting locked up,” Jinx sneered. “’Course I’ll stay away from here.”
Scorch stopped and looked at him. “No, that’s not it. You haveta stay away from the others. The group. They don’t want ya. They’re pretty mad about this last time.”
“It was an accident,” Jinx said—a little too loudly. His voice echoed down the hall, and one of the figures at his feet stirred. “Aw, Lorth.”
“If they’re wakin’ up, I’m gonna hide,” Scorch said.
“No—don’t go. Just—-real quick—Scorch!” Jinx watched him duck away and out of sight. He sighed. The body on the floor moved, and he leapt to the back of the cell, his back pressed against the stone. With wide eyes he waited and watched as the wings stretched out. The form lifted its head, and his jaw dropped. It’s a girl! Just a girl…with wings!
What little relief he gained from her age and her gender disappeared when the other form moved as well. Not him. Not the fat guy with the red skin. I couldn’t fight the both of ‘em. Not unless Scorch—
The winged girl was looking at him, and he fished his pockets for a knife that was not there. “Wh-what are you?” His voice quaked more than he liked. “You’re some kinda caster, right? A caster with wings.”
She blinked and looked around, a growing frown upon her face. She proceeded to nudge the shoulder of her groggy companion.
“Hey—no, don’t—” Jinx stopped talking when he realized she was not listening.
“Arcturus, get up,” she pleaded. The red man groaned and after much effort, succeeded in sitting upright. “We’re not alone,” she whispered.
His heart pounding, Jinx waited for the dark eyes to spot him. He’s like some kinda monster.
“I see our freedom has been compromised,” the red man said in a deep voice. “You would think we were common criminals.” Jinx felt his skin prickle as the man scrutinized him. “Though perhaps one of us is… Young man, where are we?”
Jinx stared. “Jail.”
“Amusing. In what city is this jail?”
“Well, Valesage. You don’t remember comin’ here?” Jinx asked, suspicious.
“We had been drugged,” the red man said testily. “Were we coherent moments ago?”
“I dunno. What’s ‘co-hear-ent’? Or is that some sorta magic word?” He refused to leave the safety of the wall.
The red man sighed. “Never mind.” And he turned back to talk to the winged girl.
Jinx thought he saw the shadows move again, and he waved Scorch over. I still gotta get outta here—casters or no casters.
His reluctant partner approached the cell, and the two new occupants stopped their conversation to watch. At last Jinx moved to the front, ignoring his cellmates’ questioning eyes.
“Is this a good idea?” Scorch asked, pin in hand.
“Yes! Get me out!”
“What about them?”
“What about them?”
“Alright, alright.” Scorch started to work on the lock again. “Girl’s kinda cute. Thought maybe you’d wanna—”
“No!” Jinx snapped, his face afire.
“Your little imp would be jealous.”
“Where is Ruby?” Jinx asked, suddenly concerned. “Is she alright? Did you hide her?”
“Relax. Last I saw her, she was pickin’ garbage by the inn.”
Jinx gave a little smile. “Yeah, she does that.”
“Your taste in girls is worse than your luck,” Scorch said. “Oh, and I got your knife. You’d be missing that worse than a babe misses his momma’s teat.” He drew back from the lock with a flourish. “Alright! Even with your mess-up, I got it open.” He swung wide the door. “Thank me later.”
Jinx walked through to the side of freedom and found he had an audience. “Look, we’ll leave it open for ya, if you want. Good luck!” And he hurried after Scorch, down the corridor.
*
“Should we follow him?” Kariayla asked, looking in the direction the captive had gone.
Arcturus snorted. “And become a fugitive as he has? No, we shall remain here, for this was all a grand misconception on the behalf of our captors. I intend to speak to someone of authority to rectify this unfortunate situation.” He followed her gaze down the empty passage. “…If there is indeed someone who should be here to mind us.”
“At least we made it to Valesage,” Kariayla said, attempting to be optimistic.
“Indeed,” Arcturus grumbled. “Oh! My staff!” He spied it against the wall, near a table.
“Should we retrieve it?”
He hesitated. “I suppose I would feel better if we did, though perhaps we can keep it from plain sight. The Humans most likely would be unable to tap its power, but I am responsible for it.”
Kariayla slipped out the door, retrieved Whitestar, and hurried back inside just as the sound of footsteps reached their ears. She tucked the staff in the corner of the cell, in the shadows, and rejoined Arcturus. “What is the matter?” she asked, watching him search his cloak.
“My coin purse is missing,” he said, more than a little dismayed.
Kariayla frowned and checked her own pockets. The coins Arcturus had given her in Belorn were still there.
“So you’re awake now,” a gruff voice hailed them. It belonged to a short, broad man with a scruffy face and a tattered hat. “Where’s the boy?”
“He…left,” Arcturus said, watching as the man opened the door and shook his head.
“Damn thieves. Just don’t learn. He’ll be back.” He relocked the cell and folded his arms. “So why didn’t you both bolt for it?”
“To where would we go?” Arcturus asked. “And besides, I was hoping to rectify our situation. Would you be the person of authority to whom I need to speak?”
“You use a lot of words that don’t mean a lick,” the man said. “I’m in charge of you, if that’s what you’re asking. You caused a scene with all your magic tricks, and the folks didn’t like that. We try to keep this place safe. Can’t just run around threatening people. You’re lucky ol’ Copperkettle took you alive.”
“Therein is the misconception. We did not threaten anyone. We were merely hoping for fair treatment—”
“Fair?” the jailer interrupted. “Have you looked at yourselves? You’re foreigners. How fair you think folks are going to treat you?”
Arcturus sighed and rubbed his brow. “What are we to expect from this? We present no threat, and we promise not to distress the people of your city. We are here to meet someone, and he is likely wondering where we are. Will you not release us in good faith, knowing that we will leave here and cause no further hindrance?”
The man sat on a stool beside the table. “Your friend is going to have to wait. You did present a threat, you scared people, and now I have to decide what to do with you. I’m going to let you go, but I’m not going to let you roam Valesage with your wild magic. I should deliver you to Jedinom’s Order, is what I should do.”
“This is ridiculous,” Arcturus said. “You need not deliver us anywhere. We will gladly leave on our own accord.”
“To be another problem elsewhere,” the jailer said with a scowl. “I don’t trust you casters.”
Arcturus cleared his throat. “The door was left unlocked, and we waited for your return. And mind you that I am the one missing my coin purse.”
“There’s a difference between trust and foolishness. Besides, you said it: you have nowhere to go. And mind you that I know nothing about a missing coin purse.”
“How long will you have us wait here?” Arcturus gritted, pacing the cell.
“Until I’m ready to move you,” the jailer said. “Meanwhile, you ought to get comfortable.”
There was a loud sound from down the corridor, and the jailer rose and went to investigate.
“This is absurd!” Arcturus exclaimed. “I cannot believe the injustice—the complete disregard for morality and honesty—”
“Spirits willing, he’ll let us go,” Kariayla said. “He has no reason to waste his time delivering us to—to whoever he mentioned.”
“Jedinom’s Order,” Arcturus said. “And what if the Spirits are not so willing? We may miss our tracker entirely, and we will be left impoverished in this simple-minded, crude, and unruly territory.”
Kariayla was about to respond when the sound of approaching voices interrupted them again.
“I didn’t do nuthin’! Not this time! I swear by the Golden Sword!” The dark-haired thief had returned, half-dragged by the jailer and another burly man.
The jailer rounded on the thief and seized his arm, holding it up.
“Ow!”
The jailer’s hard expression did not alter. “See those two marks, boy?” He pressed upon the slashes that made an “X” upon the thief’s hand. “One looks pretty fresh. Means you don’t learn your lesson. Seeing as you’ve been here twice before, you know what happens this time.”
The dusky thief visibly paled. “I-I will do anything. Please!”
The jailer shook his head and unlocked the cell again. He and the burly man shoved the thief inside. “I have to prepare the block. It’ll be a good warning to all your friends on the street.” Then he left, leaving the three prisoners alone.
The despondent thief slid down the wall, his head bent. He did not seem to know or care that he was back amongst his caster companions. Kariayla and Arcturus exchanged a glance.
“They…er, they aren’t going to execute you…are they?” Kariayla asked softly.
The thief lifted his hand and made a chopping motion with the other.
“Oh.”
“Yes, but you knew the consequences,” Arcturus said. “And still you chose to engage in larceny.”
“I’m not married,” he muttered. “And I’m a thief. That’s what I do. I steal stuff.”
“You don’t sound as though you have a choice,” Kariayla said, sitting a distance across from him.
“Of course he has a choice,” Arcturus said. “He could be a stablehand, a scullion, a shopkeeper’s apprentice. It is easier, however, to take from other people’s wealth rather than work to earn one’s own keep.”
“What do you know about it?” the thief snapped, raising his head. His blue eyes narrowed. “You’re a rich caster. There ain’t any work for me; I tried. No one wants me around.” He kicked at the floor. “And stealin’ ain’t easy, and I don’t like doin’ it, and as you see, I’m not very good at it either. My own friends don’t want me back, and now I’m gonna lose my hand.” His voice choked, and he took a breath. “So if you don’t mind, just leave me alone.”
There was a moment of silence, and Kariayla inched a little closer to him, disregarding Arcturus’s look of warning. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Kariayla.” She gave a nod toward the Markanturian. “My friend is Arcturus.”
The thief sighed and scratched his scruffy chin. “They call me Jinx.”
“Of course,” Arcturus said, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Jinx frowned at him. “If you’re so smart, why don’tcha use your magic to get us away from here?”
“I cannot begin to express how blatantly ignorant a statement that is.”
“He means,” Kariayla said, “that not all magic works the same way. We are prisoners just as you are.”
“Though we committed no crime,” Arcturus said, “other than being foreigners.”
“That’ll do it,” Jinx said. “Though I’d a’think the Hounds would be afraid to catch a couple o’ casters. Even ones like you.”
“What do you imply: ones like us?” Arcturus asked, drawing himself upright.
“Well, look at—I mean, you don’t look like…” Jinx gestured with his hand. “You—aw, forget it. You gotta have some powerful magic, ‘sall I’m sayin’. And didn’t you say you were drugged? What’d the Hounds do, give ya wine?” He laughed at the idea until he found he was the only one amused.
“If the Hounds are the jailers,” Kariayla said, “then they weren’t the ones who drugged us. There was a group of travelers on the road, and they invited us to join them.”
“And clearly they had been paid twice: first by these ‘Hounds’ as you call them, and again by my pockets,” Arcturus grumbled. He had started pacing the cell again.
Jinx glanced at him, then back at Kariayla. “Group of travelers? What’d they look like?”
“A Mr. Bedrasius Copperkettle,” Arcturus said with a careless wave of his hand. “Thieves. All of them.”
Jinx’s eyes widened. “You’re lucky he kept your money and left you alive. Ol’ Copper Draz and his bunch have ripped out people’s tongues for talkin’ bad about them. They’ve cut people into little pieces so they’d never be found. I heard they once took the eyes of—”
“Enough…‘Jinx,’” Arcturus said.
Kariayla looked at him. “That explains why they weren’t afraid of us.”
“They ain’t afraid o’ nuthin’,” Jinx confirmed.
“Yes, well be that as it may, our current situation is the one that concerns me.” Arcturus reached for his pipe, only to find it was gone. “Did they take everything?” he asked, exasperated.
“The Hounds keep your stuff in that box over there,” Jinx said, pointing to the object near the table. “At least Scorch got my knife.”
“Do you… You don’t hurt people with it, do you?” Kariayla asked, inching away ag
ain.
“No,” Jinx said as though the notion was ridiculous. “I use it for a lotta things like pickin’ locks and carving wood. My pa gave it to me. It’s my lucky knife.”
“Yet you were caught,” Arcturus said.
Jinx was ready to defend when the sound of keys and heavy footsteps reached them. He shrank against the wall, terror upon his face.
“Well,” the jailer said, adjusting his hat, “this seems to be a parting of ways. You casters didn’t tell me who your friend was. Good thing he found you before I carted you off to the Order.” He unlocked the cell door. “But I don’t want to see you around these parts again, causing trouble.”
Arcturus folded his arms. “I can assure you that we will never willingly travel through these parts again. Might I retrieve my belongings?”
“In the box,” the jailer said, “except for the…” He watched Kariayla retrieve the staff from inside the cell and shook his head. “You’re free to go. Your gentleman is waiting outside.”
“Outside?” Arcturus asked.
“He doesn’t like it in these places,” the man said simply. He redirected his attention to the thief. “Alright, boy. Time to go.” He hauled Jinx to his feet. “Get this done.”
Kariayla watched from Arcturus’s side, her hands gripped tightly around Whitestar. Jinx gave them a last, pleading look before the jailer shoved him down the opposite side of the corridor.
“Come, my dear,” Arcturus said, his hand upon her shoulder. “It is time we met our tracker.”
“He is going to lose his hand,” she said, her eyes welling.
“It is an unfortunate sentence, but one that is regrettably deserved. Think nothing more of it.”
Kariayla shook her head. “No. We can’t just go.” She bolted down the hall after the thief, ignoring Arcturus’s shouts. She came to an open door, and in the room beyond was a stained stone block with a metal shackle attached. Jinx was on his knees, his wrist in the shackle, his face white as Haloan Mountain snow. The jailer was beside him, a hot iron on the floor and a heavy, broad knife in his hand. He looked at her in surprise.
