“Welcome, Mister Carpenter, to the Other Side. Faerie proper, the Eternal City.”
Chapter 20
Nick and I had moved into the crowd of Fae quickly. I took his lead, following. Where the Fae seemed to move with grace that seemed to border on foresight, I found myself having to stick very close to Nick to keep from bumping shoulders.
“The last time I was here, I was only on a single street. I didn't look like New York on steroids.” I whispered to Nick.
“I guess Lucien only knew how to reach the outskirts of the City.” Nick explained. “The City has existed in this form for as long as we have had contact with the Fae. It is like a puzzle itself. It had no architects. It simply has been, is, and will be. Or so the Fae say.” He snorted in derision. “Mysterious little buggers.”
The Fae themselves were astounding. They ranged from heights of four and a half feet to nearly seven. They were of all different shades of color, ranging from near-human skin tones to a deep red, forest greens, or obsidian. Their ears all held the same pointed manner, though those differed as well. Some had piercings, others were only pointed on one end, either the lobes or tips. Some even seemed to have their lobes trail into their jawbones.
They dressed in all manners of clothing as well. Some wore flowing robes that hid their bodies. Others wore next to nothing, exposing their chests and legs. Some went barefoot, others wore heavy duty boots, and others still wore slippers.
“They're very varied.” I whispered to Nick as we continued through the crowds. Nick would make a turn here or there, blending us as best he could in the crowd. I imagined in our modern clothing and Kevlar we made a sight still.
“Humans think they're so varied,” he chided. “Star Trek spoiled you all. You all have the same organs, the same basic cranial structure, and vary in skin tones only as much as melanin will allow. Human genetics is ridiculously narrow. The Fae, well, they're curious bastards. Trolls, goblins, true Fae, they'll mix with anything they can breed with, and occasionally some they can't normally.”
I considered this for a moment. “So, where are we headed?” I asked Nick.
“Our goal is to find a constabulary station. The City Guard will recognize the treaty we have, and offer us shelter for at least long enough for us to get back.”
“Why do they speak English?” I asked. “That doesn't make sense.”
Nick smirked. “You ask good questions. They aren't. Your mind is being affected by the City. It's got some magic inlaid in it, and it translates it best as it can.”
I frowned. That seemed rather complex. “Is the City alive?”
“Ask the philosophical questions, why don't you?” He answered with a shrug. “Come on, let's keep going. I don't think we lost Fence that easily.”
“Probably not,” I agreed. I kept my eyes open, scanning the crowds as we hurried through the expansive streets. Nick turned us right at an intersection, which took us up a steep ramp. As I looked up and down, I realized that the streets were much more complex than they had originally seemed. The entire place was streets, towering buildings, and ramps getting from one level to another. “Crap, this is huge. How do we find anything here?”
“City Guard watch houses have signs. We'll be able to find it.” He said as we hurried up the ramp.
My shoulder continued to protest my lack of tender care. Tough luck, body, I was giving it some temporary discomfort to give it the opportunity to, well, exist back in my native dimension later.
I had been following Nick for around twenty minutes when a chill ran down my spine. The tingle was like Fence's earlier attack. “Nick, keep an eye out.”
He didn't even get a chance to respond. A dark ball of energy slammed out of the crowd, and people ducked out of the way of the energy. This must have been pretty common here, I mused as I lunged off of one foot, trying to leap out of the way of the ball of energy. The crowd reacted to it like most humans would to gunfire.
“What the hell?” Nick growled as the energy clearly missed him. “Fence.” He scanned the crowd for the source of the energy. “There.” He gestured.
I didn't realize what I was seeing at first. I couldn't see the same construct of shadows or tentacles that we had seen earlier. In its place was a tall, androgynous figure. It took a moment to realize that the figure I was seeing was Fence. The form of the daemon was a mask, or some sort of costume it put on. It lacked the pointed ears of the Fae, with deep obsidian skin. The demon's eyes were golden, brilliantly so. It wore a set of long robes, obscuring its limbs apart from two large hands with spindly fingers.
“Oh, hello, witchling, bright one. You left so quickly. It really was quite rude.” Fence scolded us in its soft tone. The daemon's voice was quiet, but still seemed right in my ears. “It's even worse form to blast your host with magic.”
I shoved one hand out as I searched for magic to gather around me. The magic was there, the flow of it natural, gentle. I brought it into my body and focused it. “Well, good thing we got out of your place. I'd hate to be rude.” As I brought my hand into a fist, I briefly considered that I wished I had looked more into what my mother had said about magical interaction in her journals. Was this a “Don't cross the streams” thing?
Fence's face broke with a wide smirk. Its mouth was unnaturally large, enough to make it unsettling as it brought a hand up, shadows forming in its fist. It shoved forward, and I responded, releasing the energy in my body. White light streamed out, battling with the ball of shadow and merging together. The two spells seemed to cancel each other out at the point of impact, dissipating in a hissing flash of gray smoke.
“Whoa,” I whispered, shocked at that. Were they two different energies that didn't mix together? I would ask about the theory later. Fence didn't seem too interested in answering my questions. He shoved his fist again, punching the air as another ball flew from his fist.
I sprung to my left, dodging out of the way of the ball. It zipped by me, leaving me with a cold sensation as it crashed into the stone of the building behind me. Fence reached out, one long arm outstretched towards me, and its other pointed straight at Nick, who was still picking himself off the street. “Nick, magic! Get out of there!”
Nick's dark-haired head spun around, and he pushed himself off the ground as a ball of shadow blasted a chunk of cobblestone off the street, sending a small cloud of debris up. Another shadow ball flew in my direction, and I had to duck and lunge to my left to narrowly dodge it.
“Way to aim, Fence!” I grunted as I forced myself up. Whatever Fence was, it could summon a lot of magic fast.
Nick wasn't faring as well as I did. The daemon's attentions seemed to be focused on the Marshal, advancing as it tossed numerous shadows at Nick. Nick couldn't dodge them all, with two of them catching his jacket, tearing right through his Kevlar and burning away part of his shirt.
I needed to end this quickly. I dodged out of the way as Fence swung around and tossed another shadow ball at me, making me jump towards a pocket of Fae who were trying to distance themselves from the fight. Several of them hissed in quiet tones at me, wondering just what I was and what I was doing here.
I reached inside my jacket and drew my gun. With a fluid motion, I drew it, hit the mag release, and I dropped to one knee while I slammed a magazine with iron bullets home.
Killing things on the Other Side wasn't an option. Things came when you killed people. But Nick was more important than the shades that would come. I took aim, and put a three round grouping straight in Fence's chest.
The sharp report of the gun went off and the street went silent. I couldn't tell if Fence was bleeding from the large, flowing robes. It slowly turned towards me, and hissed at me. “You...you brought silver and iron here?”
I took a step forward, keeping my aim straight at Fence's torso. “Back off. I've got five more shots and it's really hard to miss this close.”
Fence's lips peeled back and it hissed at me. Its teeth, all of them razor sharp, were arranged in a set of two r
ows. “I will remember your name, Carpenter.” It took in a deep breath, made a sissing noise, and it slowly started to fade. After ten seconds or so, it was gone.
I looked around, checking the situation. Most of the crowd had hit the streets, causing a pileup in some areas of the street. Even a few merchant's stands looked vacant, their owners likely hiding behind the stalls. Deciding no one else was threatening, I headed for Nick.
The Marshal was slumped down to one knee, nursing his wounds and clutching his wounds. He had a tear in his vest and the shirt underneath, as well as a smaller one on his right arm. “Impressive. How did you know the gun would work and you wouldn't need a blade?” He asked.
I offered him a hand. “I didn't, but I've yet to find something that a bullet doesn't hurt.”
He placed his hand in mine, and I helped him up. “He wasn't trying to hurt us. Just toy with us, perhaps to detain. I'm not sure what his intent was, but it wasn't likely to be pleasant.” He brushed himself off, and grunted.
I was about to make a reply when I heard clanking sounds coming our way. I turned to see a number of armored troops hurrying towards us. They carried large spears, and the swords at their hips and their armor told me that they weren't just the homeowner's association.
“I think we got the attention of the City Guard.” I said softly.
That suspicion was confirmed when the troops lowered their spears. A woman spoke up, who I assumed was their leader. She wore a cap with a cloth hanging from the sides that obscured her ears. She had a slight bluish tint to her skin, and her white eyes seemed nearly cat-like. “Both of you are coming with us.”
“Uh, why?” I asked as I slowly put my hands up, opening my hand slightly so my fingers weren't close to my pistol's trigger.
“Assault with a mortal weapon, for one.” The woman hissed. “But I suspect that he might have something to explain.” She turned to my companion. “Nick, it's been too long.”
Nick's face caught in a grin. “Why, Saris, I'm shocked you recall me.”
Saris snorted. “Spare me. You and your witch are going to have a lot to explain.”
The troops escorted us through the streets, surrounding us in a diamond formation as we were led back to the guard's watch house. It took us about five minutes of walking to reach it. We were ushered into a waiting area, which was a common room with a number of tables and chairs. Members of the City Guard lounged around the large room, with their armor in various states.
Fae of differing skin colors, heights, and ear shape were around the room, though the most common of them looked close to human. One of the Guard patted me down and frisked me, taking my gun and knife away from me. He set the weapons on a table, then repeated the process with Nick. Nick apparently had a brace of throwing knives secreted on him somewhere, and the Guard set a little case of the knives on the table along with his longer combat knife.
“So,” Saris began as she grabbed a chair and took a seat behind the table. “We don't get visits often from the mortal world, so there better be an interesting story as to why you came over, got a daemon attacking you, which required you to fire off a firearm in the middle of a crowded street.”
“To be fair,” I cut in. “It had cleared out by the time I had pulled the gun, and I was at a close range.”
Saris turned her icy features over to Nick. “Why were you here?” She asked.
“We were investigating a new narcotic being introduced into Knight Carpenter's territory. When we discovered it, we found that Faerie blood was being used as an active ingredient. We used the blood to open a portal to the Other Side to track down the donor of the blood.” Nick's voice was level, calm.
Saris's features were calm, reflective. Her eyes were locked on him for a moment as she took in his end. “What happened when you found the source of the blood?” She asked, prompting him to continue.
Nick paced towards a chair at the table and sat down, with such a casual nature the Fae didn't even move to object or tell him to sit down. Apparently if you walked the walk, the Eternal City Guard wouldn't immediately assume you were a threat.
“We came out of the portal to a home, and in that home we found our Faerie. Dead, dissected by a daemon who identified himself as Fence.”
Saris held up a finger, interrupting him. She turned to another Fae. He looked closer to human than any Faerie I had seen so far. His skin was dark, with a less pronounced point to his ears. His voice was low, melodious. “The daemon is a known distributor of illegal goods, Captain. No confirmed appearances, but there is evidence to suggest one with that description heads a smuggling ring of Earthly materials.”
“Perfect,” the captain sighed. “Callan, can you work with our street officers, see if any of us can find a place of residence for this Fence?”
The man nodded. “By your command,” He said, and started towards the door to the watch house.
Nick arched an eyebrow at Saris. He waited until Callan had left. “Is he...”
“Half,” Saris replied. “But he's one of my best officers. Can't get a promotion because of his blood, though.” She leaned back slightly. “So, I am guessing this Fence didn't appreciate you snooping around his house.”
I nodded. “Some small talk was made, but it ended in a fight. We ran out onto the streets, lost him.”
“Can you remember the location of the house?” Saris asked.
“Probably not,” I said. “I got lost just walking here.”
“I can give you my best recollection,” Nick said. “Though to be honest, I imagine Fence has already abandoned what he could.”
The Fae nodded. “Of course. Still, if you could work with one of our officers, it'd be appreciated.”
I made my way to one of the chairs and sat down. This time some of the guards bristled, but Saris calmed them with a glance. “I'm going to need some time to recover before I can open up another door, Nick.”
Nick looked over to me, and nodded. “Yeah, it's best we give you some rest. Saris, have you got some place our witch can grab some shut eye while I gather what he needs for the spell? I'll try to give you more for your officers to go after for the location of the house.”
Saris nodded. “Yes, he can rest in one of the bunks we keep in the watch house.” She nodded to one of the Guard. “Officer Morven!” She called.
A shorter female Fae with a reddish tint to her skin stood up. She had been playing a dice game with some other guards at a table. “Yes, Captain?” She asked.
“See Mister Carpenter to a bunk. He needs to sleep so he can magic his way back to where he came from.”
Morven offered a little nod to me, and gestured for me to follow. “Come on,” She led me towards the staircase at the back of the station house, We headed up there, and we arrived at a room with a half-dozen cots, arranged in two rows of three. “We keep these for troopers who need to crash or grab a nap.” She explained. “Just grab one and get some sleep.”
I walked to the first one. It wasn't until I had sat down on the bed that I realized how tired I was. Between the magic of opening a portal and slinging energy at Fence, my body was coming off the adrenaline high. My body ached for rest. “This is perfect, Morven.” I started to unlace my boots.
Morven stood at the foot of the cot, watching me. “You're from Earth.” She said, her voice plain. It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah, I am.” I pulled off one boot, than the other. “From what I know, most humans are.” I had to remind myself that well, I wasn't totally human myself. “And witches.”
“I've never seen Earth.” When I looked up to look at Morven, her eyes, a vibrant amber, locked to mine. “Travel between this Side and the mortal world is restricted.” She tilted her head to the side. “From what I have been told, there's very little magic in your world.”
“Witches are nearly dead,” I said. “But there's magic of its own sort.”
Morven gave a little, important sniff. “You're an endangered species.” That was such a recurring theme
. People liked reminding me how bad off my race was. It made me feel like some rare animal.
“Maybe,” I offered her a shrug. “I don't like to think of it like that. It's not very productive.” I pulled off my jacket and the Kevlar next, laying them out next to my boots next to the bed. “Have Nick wake me in four hours.” I told her as I grabbed at one of the blankets.
I didn't look back to see Morven walking away, though I could hear the lightest pat of her boots on the floor of the guard house.
Sleep came quickly. Rest was a whole other issue.
Chapter 21
Ever since my magic awakened, dreams got frustrating.
To be specific, I dreamed of my mother, Victoria Torres. My mother was an abstract concept to me. She had died only a few weeks after my birth. I had learned only a slight bit about her from her journals.
The problem was it wasn't my mother. It was a construct created by...something, that chatted with me on occasion.
I was dreaming of the kitchen in Matt's house, where I was dreaming of eating breakfast. I was sitting nibbling on toast.
The construct of my mother was sitting on the counter, legs dangling off the edge. She was a striking woman, with dark hair and icy eyes. Laugh lines played at the corners of her mouth, as she looked down at me. Her hair was in the same long braid that was in the one picture I had of her that she had with my father.
“Hey there, Vic.” I knew that it wasn't my mother, but out of a lack of ideas of what she actually was, I had settled on the nickname recently. “Come to offer vague-yet-mildly helpful advice?”
Vic smiled down at me. “You're in the Other Side.” She said, and tilted her head to the side. “That is unexpected.”
“It's part of a job.” I said, and shook my head. “Not the point. I've got a question to ask you.”
She pondered this for a moment as if weighing the possibilities. “Proceed.” She said after a long moment.
“Are witches the only mortals that can do magic?” I asked.
Blood Sport (The American Arcane Book 2) Page 16
