by Jen Ponce
“Yeah. Though I guess he’s not your king anymore.”
“No.” Her voice sounded wistful. I wondered if she and Nex had a fling but wasn’t going to ask. Knowing my luck, it would insult her and she’d rip my head off or leave me to flounder in the water forever. “I know where there’s another rashn.”
“Ration?”
She pronounced it for me again. “The rock, concentrated Source.”
“Really?”
“In the Wilds, half a day’s journey from Casttown. There’s a cave with a murk pool. The rashn is at the bottom.” She shot me a look half sly, half hopeful. “If you could bring the rashn back, you could try again. My queen would be forced to forgive you and our world would be safe from the witches. I would help you formulate the pact.”
“If your queen had deigned to help me, we could’ve gotten it right the first time.” I was grumbling, I knew, but it got so damn old to always be left in the dark.
“She doesn’t want us to be safe from the witches. She’s been spiraling out of control since she lost her husband. She was old when they married. Now she’s ancient and without the king, she has been growing more and more despondent. I believe she wants the swamp to be overrun.”
“Why not just kill herself?”
Our heads popped through the surface of the water. Nephele swam behind me and jerked her fists into my diaphragm. Water shot from my body in an ugly, painful stream. She pumped my stomach again and I threw up more water.
My first breath of air hurt like a motherfucker. I loved every minute of it.
“To answer your question,” she said, tugging me away from the vomit, “she is tired of life so therefore we all must be tired, too.”
“Lord save me from suicidal maniacs.”
She hissed, smiling. “I must go back before she wonders why I’ve tarried. Remember, the rashn would fix this. Your souls would remain safe. If she kills herself, the barrier will fall anyway. The pact was between her and you. Whoever takes her reign might not wish to treat with you.” With the grace of a dolphin, she leapt out of the water, turning her lithe body in the air to dive underneath the surface.
No elegant strokes for me as I paddled toward the shore. My muscles shook with fatigue and when I got close enough, I let Jasper and Tytan pull me from the water.
My hand went to my neck. Gills still there. Damn it.
“What in the hell did you do?”
This from Tytan. I collapsed on the ground despite the smell and despite thinking there might be thousands of bugs crawling around under the leaf litter. “I fucked it up. Of course.”
Tytan laughed and a grin spread across his face. “Of course you did. That’s my Devany.”
-THIRTEEN-
We trekked back through the swamp after I discovered I couldn’t hook while in the bubble of protection I made. We’d decided that Tytan would work on locating the rashn. Nex, Jasper, and I would travel to the last place Jasper remembered being held to see if we could find out where Cyres was taken. Jasper and Tytan weren’t growling at each other anymore. Somehow that worried me more than the blatant hostility.
“I’ll check back in a day,” Tytan told me before disappearing into the Slip. We were a lot more vulnerable without him. I hoped we could stay out of trouble.
“Ready?” I asked Jasper. He nodded and Nex floated closer. “What you need to do is close your eyes and picture the place in as much detail as you can.” I pursed my lips. Looked at Nex. “How is this going to work?”
“I can project his thoughts to you, perhaps.”
“Ah. Okay.” Yet one more brain invasion to give me the heebie jeebies. I nodded to Jasper. “Go.”
He shut his eyes. I reached out to touch Nex’s face before I closed my own. Jasper’s hand was warm in mine, a stark contrast to the clammy feel of Nex’s cheek. In eerie stop motion, a town formed in my head, its dusty red streets and squat, tan buildings strangely Earth-like. I formed a hook and guided us through—
—A shout on the street had us scrambling to the side as a low-riding, flying car buzzed by. Well, I assumed it was a car. It was boxy-shaped and held two witches gawking at our arrival from thin air. They almost ran into another vehicle coming toward us and had to jerk hard to the right, nicking the corner of a building before wobbling out of sight.
The dirt streets made me think Old West but the flying/floating cars threw me for a freaking loop. “This is wild.”
“We’re at the edge of the Anwar. The witch regulations don’t extend beyond the border and the magic exists out there, unbounded.” Jasper’s voice was strained and his words clipped. “The witches are terrified of it, which is why they live in protection spheres and never step outside Banishwinds.”
Hearing the fear in his voice, I squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. “Do you want me to take you somewhere else?” Was I a horrible person for hoping he would say no? I didn’t have the time to take him anywhere else, nor a place safe enough for him to stay.
“No. I’ll be all right. It fills me with bad memories, seeing these streets.”
“In and out as quick as we can. Okay?”
He nodded. He led us down the road, dust puffing upward with each step. We passed by storefronts with signs that hung from eye bolts screwed into the porches that extended over the storefronts. In one store, bright lights sputtered and spat across the window. Jasper saw me staring. “The magic doesn’t always work right out here, not this close to the Anwar. It’s why most people do without magic unless they’re in a protection circle.”
In another window I saw tiny dolls, each one dressed and painted with loving detail. I paused a moment, wishing I had the right kind of money to buy one or two for Bethy. To my delight, the dolls started dancing and twirling in herky jerky motions.
A stout woman in a flowered muumuu barged out of the door and stared at me, hands on her hips. “No using magic on the toys unless you want to buy them.”
“Oh, I didn’t—”
Jasper gave the woman a nod and dragged me around the corner.
“What are you doing? Stop it!” I jerked my arm away from him and glared.
“You’d been about to say, ‘I didn’t mean to,’ weren’t you?” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “If they even suspect you’ve been tainted my wild magic, they will put you in chains.” He put his hand on my back and propelled us forward almost at a run.
We stayed away from the stores and wove our way through the business section of town until we arrived at a small tavern that sat squat and frog-like in a puddle of shadows. Its roof sagged to one side like the point of a witch’s hat, and a dirty red carpet lolled out the door like a tongue. “Traders hang here. I remember them talking about this place. It’s where you find guides through the Anwar.”
The smell that hit us when we walked in was redolent of charred meat and sage. My mouth watered and I tried to remember when I’d last eaten anything. A fire burned in a giant hearth along the left side of the building, filling the space with an oppressive heat. No one paid us any mind until Nex floated up beside me. One by one, heads turned toward us and the whispers began.
“It seems I am a remarkable sight,” Nex said, looking unperturbed by the stares. He turned his gaze on me and must have sensed my unease. “Would you like me to ply you with insults?”
The question made me grin. “No. I’m good. But thank you.” My gaze swept the room and landed on the bar, a huge, glass-like structure lit up from within with lights. The lights darted around inside and as Jasper steered us toward it, I saw that the lights were actually tiny, humanoid creatures darting to and fro. As I sat down, one pressed a tiny butt to the glass and mooned me.
“Fairies,” Jasper said in disgust.
“Help you?” The bartender had heavy eyebrows and a sloped head. His dark eyes glowered at me from deep-set sockets.
“We’re looking for a group of Theleoni. One with a Wing.” Jasper had his elbows on the glass, ignoring the tiny creatures beneath his arm
s that gestured rudely at him. One made jacking off gestures and when he saw me staring, he gyrated his hips and grinned.
Good grief.
“They do a show,” Jasper said and I turned my attention to him.
“What kind of a show? Like strippers?” Then I realized he was talking about us rather than the fairies. I also figured out that while I had my wallet, my money wouldn’t be good here and I doubted Jasper had anything on him. My stomach growled. I really wanted a plateful of whatever it was filling the place with such heavenly aromas.
Fairies fled from the spot where Nex hovered. I wasn’t sure why they were afraid—they were trapped in the glass, weren’t they? Nex said, “Of course. Devany, we shall tell fortunes for our supper.”
Supper. “And information,” I added, though if the food tasted as good as it smelled, I wasn’t sure I would insist.
The bartender said, “Prove it.”
Nex turned to me, his eyes pooling with liquid black. I knew this routine but didn’t think Nex could bring it on at will. I’d been under the impression he couldn’t control it, though maybe that was just when the visions came to him, rather than when he went looking. “Ask your question.” His voice haroomed in the small tavern. Every single person in the place stopped to listen.
I nodded at the bartender. “Go on.”
“Uh.” He set down the bottle of booze and rested a hand on the glass. Coughed. Reddened. “Uh. Will Rhodri say yes?”
Ah, romance. Nex didn’t say anything. I cut my eyes to him. Gave him a, “Well?” look. With every quiet second, the tension in the room ratcheted up a notch. “Nex?”
“Ask your question,” he intoned.
My forehead furrowed, and then I realized he was waiting on me to do the asking. He’d done the same when Tytan had tried to get answers from him. I’d been the one to collect his head, I was the lucky receiver of his visions. “The bartender asked, ‘Will Rhodri say yes?”
The liquid swirled and flashed in his eyes. “Yes. It will be a love that lasts.”
The bartender grinned. The motion smashed up his face, giving him more than a passing resemblance to a pit bull. “The group with the Wing rode out a week ago. With a Carnicus. The Shadow Black Show. There was a fight between them and the Nightflowers. No town can hold two shows in its limits without fights, everyone knows that.”
“The other group is still here?”
“‘Til the morrow.” He leaned one hairy elbow on the bar and lowered his voice. “Their ringmaster is a vain asshole. He wants to follow ‘em. Show ‘em up. Eventually overtake them and put ‘em down. That’s what he said. Says it every night he comes in, too.”
“Thank you,” Jasper said.
The bartender’s ugly face broke into a smile. “I’m just happy I know he’ll say yes.” He held up a beefy finger and said, “I’ll get you some plates. Only have deer steaks. That do?”
“If they taste as good as they smell, they will more than do,” Jasper said.
The bartender nodded and disappeared through a set of swinging doors. When he returned, he let us know we’d have our food shortly. Then he leaned on the bar once more and began chatting with Jasper.
I leaned in close to Nex and whispered, “You can do that on demand?” His eyes were already clearing, the ink draining back inside his head.
“Yes. I’m not a sideshow and under normal circumstances I would not stoop so low. However, I know how much you wish to be home, so I do it for you. As your friend.”
He looked so solemn when he said it and I felt the love behind it, I truly did. “Thank you, Nex. That means a lot to me.”
Soon a skinny man with frizzy hair was sliding plates in front of Jasper and I, heaped with still sizzling steaks and mounds of fluffy white potatoes. He stared at Nex, uncertainty on his bony face. “Uh, does it, uh.” He scratched his chest. “Eat?”
Good question, answered when Nex said, “I do not care for any repast at this time.”
Looking relieved, the man skittered away, leaving the doors swinging in his wake.
I picked up my fork and when I did, noticed a fairy waggling its tongue at me. I scooted my plate over an inch to block his stupid face and speared the meat. The first bite tasted of grill and smoke and well-seasoned fat. My eyes slid shut in ecstasy.
“Excuse me.”
A man with a large, bushy mustache and hair sprouting from his ears in tufts stood a few feet from us, a hat clutched in his hands. “I’m Yorloff. Strongman and jack of trades for the Carnicus of Nightflowers. I saw the tricksy with yon head and would like to extend an invitation to meeting with our ringmaster, Leon.”
I chewed my meat, unwilling to speed through it to answer. Only when I’d swallowed did I say, “Can he help us get through the Anwar?”
He handed me a card that had a dancing lion on the front and a large black flower with petals that floated down to the bottom of the card and disappeared. It reminded me of something from a Harry Potter book. “Follow the directions on the back. It will lead you to the camp. Our ringmaster knows the Anwar as well as the duallies that live there. He can get you through.” He bowed over his belly and walked away.
I handed it to Jasper to look at. “Well?”
Jasper shrugged. “If he’s willing to take us through and he knows how to navigate the wild magic, I suppose it’s as good an offer as any.”
“You’ve never heard of the guy?” I didn’t like the way the Yorloff guy’s eyes had shifted to the right, ever so subtly. He’d been lying about something. But what?
He shook his head.
I went back to my steak, the sting of pepper and explosion of smoke on my tongue and in my mouth. Could magic make food taste better? Because this was the best steak of my life, deer or not. If I could pour a bit of magic into my brownies—oh my god.
When my plate was empty, and by empty I meant very nearly licked clean, we got up from the bar. My own little fairy pervert stalker looked sad to see me go. He mooned me but his heart wasn’t in it, I could tell from the droop to his tiny mouth.
The bartender nodded at Jasper as we walked to the door. “Be careful.”
Jasper nodded and we left, following the direction of the feet on the card. They led us through an alley drifted with trash and smelling of pee. I guessed that there were some things all cities have in common, no matter where they were located. The alley spit us out on a residential street. Quiet, domed homes sat in tidy rows up and down a paved road, the first I’d seen here. The road was nothing compared to the wonder of the bubbled-up houses. Each one had its own plant-life and some had their own weather. One house had dark clouds and rain, another a calm spring day and a third snow, making it look like a ginormous snow globe.
I dearly wanted to live in one of them. It would be spring at my house all year long. No shoveling. No barren leaves. Just spring flowers and gentle rains.
The tidy rows gave way to a seedier part of town soon enough. Some of the homes here didn’t have globes at all or bubbles had been shattered, shards of glass―solid magic, according to Jasper―glittering in the weeds. It wasn’t until I saw a young child, covered in dirt and hiding behind a broken down porch that I realized this was the first person I’d seen outside of the tavern.
“Are you okay? Do you need help?”
She bolted and Jasper stopped me before I could give chase. “If she’s a lure, then there are folks waiting to bash your brains in and steal your valuables. If she’s a Wydling, then you’ll never catch her anyway.”
It didn’t feel good not to follow her but I submitted to his experience and knowledge of the place. “Where is everybody?”
“It might be sales day.”
He sounded so sick when he said it, I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder. “Sales day?”
He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw jumping.
“There is a practice among the witches to sell Wydlings and other creatures that are not like them,” Nex intoned, floating up beside me. “They don’t appr
ove of the practice in the bigger cities but out here close to the Anwar, where the organized magic gives way to wild, people are less picky about what goes on.”
Slaves. They were selling slaves. Oh yuck.
“It’s an awful place,” Jasper whispered. I put my arm around him and he hugged me back. His body shook against me.
“We’re heading away from the market, though?” I hoped.
“Yes.”
“Good.” We followed the footsteps on the card until the last of the ruined houses disappeared behind us and we saw the first wagon. Painted in lurid reds, greens, and yellows, it featured a picture of a heroic-looking man standing on the neck of a half hyena/half man creature. Well, I think he was supposed to be heroic; he kind of looked like a dickhead to me.
The wagons were circled and balls of light glowed from cups at the uppermost corners of the wagons. Someone was playing an instrument that sounded similar to a banjo and another person thumped a drum. The piping sound of a calliope rounded out the surreal picture of a nineteenth century freakshow. There were all sorts of creatures in that circle, many of them looking like mixtures of human and animal. A short man with tentacles for arms cavorted in the middle, the others laughing, clapping, and calling out suggestions, some of them anatomically impossible. They were having fun until a young woman with feathers and wings called down to them in a macaw’s voice.
One by one they stopped playing or dancing or clapping as we got closer. A large man who almost glowed with charisma stood near the center of the celebration, his tawny hair waving over his broad shoulders. A romance-book cover model. I snorted. “What are we doing here again?”
“We need a guide through the Anwar. The magic out there is wild, it bends the land, changes things. We’d be lost and consumed in days,” Jasper said.
I wished I knew Cyres. Wished I could just hook to her and whisk her away instead of this bullshit. I needed to get back to my kids. Even though we hadn’t spent even a day on Midia, two had probably passed on Earth. “Fine.”
“Merry meet, friends. My apologies but our Carnicus is not putting on a show tonight. There are better things to do in the market.” His smile was broad and insincere. His booming voice held a wild, angry sort of power.
