Midnight Magic
Page 2
A warm, insistent presence made itself known against the side of Vimika's leg, and she looked down to see Hewer, the Double C's resident rat-catcher sidled up against the hem of her robe.
"Aren't you friendly, considering I put you out of business?" Vimika asked. Though the change in circumstances seemed to be a welcome one, as the black and gray tom was now more pillow than predator, looking up with eyes that were slitted just like her own to mew in what Vimika took to be forgiveness. He Smelled of magic tonight, but that should have been no surprise, given that she'd almost burned down his house with it earlier.
Some recompense was in order. "You keep my legs warm, and I'll see that I'm a little clumsier than usual with the scraps. Deal?"
Hewer mewed again and leapt into her lap. He took his time in settling, sniffing and kneading at the tops of her thighs, but seemed content enough with his final choice when he eventually made it.
Good enough.
"Yer usual, or do ya wan' sumthin' with a li'l more kick tonight?" said Delica, the youngest of Wilim's daughters, as she looked down on the wizard only a year her senior. For being built like a warhorse, she was very good at sneaking up on people.
"I think tonight calls for the strongest you've got," Vimika said.
"Tha' bad?"
"Thinking about it's making it worse," Vimika said as her chin settled into her hand again.
"So tha' stink-cloud earlier was ya, then?" Delica asked, pulling a lock of tousled blond hair down to her nose and giving it a sniff. She grimaced and let it pop back into place with a lip upturned just enough to say she didn't mean it.
Delica had a face and figure that were exactly the reason she'd learned how to twist a man's arm in just the right way to snap it if he kept on like that. She shared Vimika's proclivities though, and knew how hard it was for a woman to find another woman in a town that was almost entirely men. Vimika had never admitted that that was nearly the entire reason she'd chosen Durn in the first place. She couldn't be tempted by something that didn't exist.
The rock sparkling on Delica's finger removed any doubt as to the state of her relation to Durn's population, however.
"It was. Sorry. That mean what I think it does?" Vimika asked, curling a pinky from under her chin to point at the ring.
"She was gonna ask on Midwinter's Day, but I found the ring 'fore I was s'pose ta. Asked me right there in the toilet."
"Congratulation- wait, she hid it in the toilet?"
Delica smiled. "Pretty goo' place, I though'. 'Til I though' we was outta bog roll and I tore it apar' lookin' fer more. Found this instead." She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. Though the stone sparkled in the candlelight, it didn't sparkle right, and Vimika Looked into it hard enough to do a minor cast she had learned the day she decided to move to a town built on gemstones.
The results, however, put her in a dilemma. Her eyes flicked from the stone to Delica's cheerful face and she swallowed hard. A wizard's reputation was built on honesty. At least, an honest wizard's was.
"Delica…"
"'S fake. I know."
Vimika started so hard her hat flopped over the other side of her head. "You do?"
"'Course. No reason to waste all tha' money. Jus' make people think we did. 'Sides, I'm quick, but no' always tha' quick. Shoomp!" She mimed the ring being yanked off. "'Da says I shouldn't even wear i', but people usually respec' a ring. I needs ta get back ta work, though, so I'll jus' tell ya the Soft Sea Gold's pretty strong this year," Delica said with a knowing smile
At that, Vimika's heart lifted so much it made her sit up a little straighter. "It's in already?"
"Aye. Don' suppose ya wanna-"
"Don't stop until I have to be carried home."
~
True to her word, Delica hadn't stopped, as Vimika could still find the privy without falling over. When she returned for the third time, she plopped down in her seat to find someone sitting in the one across the table. As that hadn't been the case when she'd gotten up, Vimika blinked several times until her brain caught up with what was coming in through the holes in front of it.
"Seris?" Vimika asked. She was sure, but not sure, and it was only polite to confirm the state of things before she said anything personal. Or at all, really. A lot could come out of a drunk wizard's mouth, only a fraction of which counted as conversation.
"Aye," Delica's fiancee said with a tankard raised to Vimika's ability to recall names. "Just got back from my last run of the season. You looked like you needed someone to keep an eye on you."
A trader by… trade… Seris had been swept off her feet (literally) on her first visit to the Double C when Delica had carried her back to her room after one (or five) too many pints. A full head shorter and several stone lighter than her stocky mountain fiancee, Seris was pretty in a hawkish sort of way, her prominent widow's peak beak-like in its attempts to split her eyebrows apart in her constant near-sighted squint.
"I keep my eye on myself… my third eye! WooOOoo…" Vimika said, wriggling all ten fingers above her forehead.
"That's bullshit," Seris replied, and took a sip of what smelled like mead, but could have just as easily been vomit. They smelled the same to Vimika, and she was too pissed to tell the difference.
"'S not. I have the Sight," Vimika said.
"Yes. I've been around wizards, you know. Sober ones."
"Psshh, no such thing. 'Sides, you drink like a… bird… too. So don' say an'thing 'bout soberty," Vimika managed.
She knew how red her face was, but of course it was, it was so hot! All she wanted to do was take off her stupid hat, but then she'd get yelled at, and that would make her remember where she was and why, and who wanted that?
"And I'm going to catch up, don't worry. Why don't we talk before I pass you? Or you pass out," Seris said with a little crook to the corner of her mouth that Vimika had to stare at really hard to confirm was a smile.
"'Bout what? Why you wanna talk to a wzzzrd?"
Seris handed her flagon to Delica, who had once again appeared from nowhere, or maybe had been standing there the whole time. "I don't. Believe it or not, Delica and I care about you. I want to talk to you, Vimika."
A concerned hand set atop Vimika's, but Seris being human, it was only a gesture of comfort. There was no magic to feel from the connection. Nothing like when wizards touched. Gods how she missed it! Just once, to remember who she was...
But she knew too well who she was. It was why she was drunk.
"'K."
Leaning forward, Seris retracted her hand to take her flagon in both, talon-like fingers nearly long enough to encircle the whole thing. "Every time I come back, I find you in here. Why do you do this to yourself? Even Mrs. Hagshead is worried about you at this point."
Vimika rocked side to side, either in attempt to dodge the question or because she had to pee again already. Since it was more likely the former, she took another swig of golden wine. "Do what? Have a good time? For once?" she added a lot less quietly than she'd imagined it was going to be.
"You're a wizard!"
Vimika looked up at the brim of her hat. "Ooohhh noooo, you're right!"
She snapped her fingers, and a ball of light bloomed into an unstable, hesitant kind of light that seemed to wonder what it was doing here. Settling it into the palm of her hand, she held it up to Seris. "I made this. With magic. Something you can't do, but I have to wear the hat."
"Yes, you did. And you can do a lot more. Yet you're down here in a tavern in the ass-end of nowhere drinking yourself to death. You want to tell me why?"
Vimika yanked the brim of her hat down over her long wizard ears, flattening them painfully against the side of her head. "'Cause I'm in the ass-end of nowhere living under a tavern."
"You don't have to, you know."
"I know," Vimika said to the table. "I'm moving soo… some day. My own house. Away from here. Away from evr'buddy. In the woods somewhere."
"That sounds lonely," Seris said.
Vimika nodded, the point of her hat flopping forward. She glared up at it, but it was as much a part of her as her hair, only with more freedom of movement. "Ran from Maris aaaallllll the way down here, but wasn't far enough. Still hurts, still 'member. Still… everyth-" --hic-- "why're you so nice to me?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Seris asked.
Vimika brandished her light again. "'M a wzzzrd. People don' like wzzzrds. 'S why I wear this." The benefits of magelights being heatless became apparent when her robe failed to burst into flame upon thumping her chest.
"I like you just fine. So does Delica. That's why it's so hard to see you like this. I drink because I'm tired of talking to people trying to cheat me and from being stuck on horseback for weeks on end. I suck Wilim's casks dry because I have so few chances. I make them count. You can do magic… yes, just like that. No, I don't want to try to hold it. Vimika, you have a genuine talent. You've made so many people happy by finding their pets, taming their horses, driving out vermin. I've seen you call songbirds, and had to resist the urge to write a terrible poem about it."
"You write poetry?"
Seris shrugged, flicking an eye at Delica. "Not often, hence it being bad. And beside the point. I heard you blew up another watch this afternoon."
The smile that split Vimika's lips wasn't out of pride or pleasure. Or a smile really. More of a grimace, but the alcohol was making it harder to tell the difference. Another glass or two and she would get to the point she could admit they were the same thing nowadays. "Yep. Real good. Almost choked a horse."
Seris tsked and took a good long draught from her flagon. When she set it back down, the face it revealed was less than impressed. "Why are you wasting your time with that shit?"
"You swear a lot."
"I work with horses and assholes, you would, too," Seris said.
"Not complainin'. Wish I could."
"Why don't you?"
"'Cause I'mm wzzzrd! A girl wzzzrd... a slit-eyed witch. I have t'be good. No cursing around humans. Keep my hat on, wear the robes." Vimika held out her enormous sleeves, waving them around, brushing over her wine glass. She watched it wobble with panicked intensity. "They only see the wzzzrd. Always the wzzzrd. Get pointed at, whispered 'bout… don't say anythin'… pretend I don' see. Don' hear. Who sees Vimika? Nobody. Jus… magic. Don' need me…"
She snatched up the glass and threw everything in it back in one gulp before the floor had a chance to drink it first. "Magic… objects... worth a lot o' money. Then I can go away. Can't get hurt there."
Seris looked across the table over her flagon. Held it out and brought it back full somehow. "Who hurt you? You never talk about it."
"Sure don't. Now, I gotta go bedtime. I live downstairs! If I fall down them fast enough I end up in my bed," Vimika said, jabbing herself in the temple. "'Cuz I'm smart."
"Vimika, I'm sorry to pry, I just-"
"I know." Vimika swayed to her feet, swatting at Seris several times before managing to thump her hand onto to the trader's shoulder. "I know. You worry. I 'preciate it. But y'won' have to much longer. Now go play kissy face with Delica. I'll be fine."
"I don't think you will," Seris said.
Vimika shrugged. Or tried, instead her entire upper body swayed like a top-heavy tree. "That's okay, too."
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS A pulsing white morning Vimika woke up to, full of blurry things and wishing to be dead. The blurry things eventually coalesced into the rugs hung on the wall around her bed, there to both muffle noise and at least pretend to try to keep the chill at bay.
Right now they were acting in their tertiary capacity as lodestars, and Vimika was slightly more confident in which side of the bed was less likely to result in injury if she rolled that way. The lack of certainty came from the fact it took her longer than she would care to admit to realize her head was where her feet should be, which was appropriate since it felt like someone was walking on her skull.
That didn't explain the scratching.
With a few more blinks to orient herself, Vimika oozed out from under her covers and into some semblance of dressed. Whatever was doing the scratching, she doubted she needed to look impressive for. Things that needed impressing were usually louder.
From the lab, it became clear the sound was coming from her door, for which she was relieved. From the walls or ceiling would have meant rats, and rats would have meant questions about her magic proficiency and little squeaking sounds.
Though the noise was quiet, it was insistent, and couldn't talk. Or read, since the sign clearly said she wasn't home.
Scritchscritchscritch.
"Just a moment," she felt compelled to say as she went to undo the set of ensorcelled locks. They both looked, and were in fact, impressive. Anyone who wasn't Vimika, or didn't have the equally ensorcelled keys, would be surprised at just how creative a magicker could be when it came to dissuading would-be thieves.
Scritchscritchscritch.
Meow.
The door opened and the snow drift that had built up against it during the night collapsed. The bulbous orange cat that had been perched atop it surfed the mini avalanche straight into Vimika's laboratory, alighting on the floor like it was intentional.
The cat wasn't terribly remarkable, as cats went, so much so Vimika had no idea why it was now in her house, looking about the place and finding it wanting. Only when she looked at it in pure wizard Sight did anything make sense for the first time that morning.
"I scryed for you three days ago!" Vimika said, peering down at the little animal the way only wizards could See things.
Apricot, she now remembered his name was, was aglow with magical energy, the 'tag' she had sent after him glowing the same color as the hairs in the bowl. Sure enough, they were pointing right at him. Everywhere he'd been since she'd sent the tag, he'd left a little trail of magic behind, and Vimika followed it back, tracing his journey.
It was a knot of overlapping, re-tracing steps, meandering down alleyways and over rooftops, peering into windows and chasing birds.
"I see you took the long way. Three days to go a half mile?" Vimika asked. Beckoning spells usually only took a few hours to work, even on animals as stubborn as cats. She'd had all but given up on the little cretin.
The deeper she looked, however, the more apparent the possible reason became. There was a trace of magic in him that wasn't Vimika's. It was faint, like a rat fart in a fog bank, but obvious once she'd noticed it. Who else would want to do anything magically to an ordinary house cat, and why? She hadn't noticed anything when she'd placed the tag, had someone been checking her work? If someone had Borrowed him, it would explain the magic and his meandering course over the last few days, but any wizard skilled enough to do it would have plenty else to do with their talents than sniff around back alleys and peer in windo-
"Ew," Vimika said through a grimace. Apricot cocked his head. "I'm sorry little friend. If you'd come when I first called, you might have been spared."
It was no matter, however, he was here now, and she tossed Apricot a dried fish from her jar of thinking-time snacks so he would stay long enough for her to get dressed enough to be seen. She took another fish for herself. Salty and tough, it was all she had time for if she was to make it across town before her bribe wore off.
~
Though somewhat put out by the timing, Apricot's family was grateful to have him back, and in time for Midwinter. Apricot, for his part, had treated his return with the same sniffy indifference he treated everything else. Vimika had left with thanks, pockets jingling with silver and a reminder of why she didn't particularly care for cats very much.
They weren't popular among wizards at large, either. If you could banish vermin with magic, why would you put up with such haughty little things? Maybe it was because cats reminded wizards of themselves: intelligent, doing as they were told only with great reluctance and a fair bit of bribing, seen by everyone else as arrogant and entitled; slitted eyes, pointed ears.
The reasons why wizards had slitted eyes were lost to history, now solely the domain of myth and what they told people after a few glasses of wine. That they were descended from cat-people was a favorite, but as Vimika didn't have a tail and the only wizard she knew with fuzzy ears was her grandfather, it remained only as one of the more entertaining for her. After enough Soft Sea Gold, however, she would happily help to elaborate on how it had come to pass, with lots of scratching and tail-pulling.
The theory favored by Vimika and others however (when they took such things seriously), was that they were the remaining descendants of the long-lost race of elves, and the eyes were what let them See with what used to be called magesight. Now, it had lots of rather less impressive names, like wizardvision or magiceye, but was most often just shortened to simply Sight. Just the way Vimika had Seen Apricot and followed his travels, it was a way of perceiving magic without having to do any spells or look into crystal balls. The ears were much the same way, although being able to Hear magic took considerably more practice. Not all magic was glowing wisps and fireballs, and magic that had been imbued deeply into inanimate objects, old ones especially, put out more sound than light.
The magic accessible to wizards came in three flavors.
Mana was the most common, the raw magic that flowed in and about the world the way water does, appearing green to Sight. In different forms and concentrations but omnipresent, it was the type that smart wizards drew on. Well, smart in that it was virtually inexhaustible. It still had to be absorbed, channelled and filtered into anything usable, which took technique and concentration.