Good Luck, Bad Luck

by Jenni Ward

  She made her way toward the beckoning light; her bare feet made no sound on the floorboards. As a barrier the door did its job, but Mary smiled at seeing the keyhole. Bending down she squinted and peered through the tiny hole to see that the candles burned brightly within the room. She moved away to extinguish her own flame before returning to spy on her captor.

  Prater watched the flames dancing on the logs. She saw that he sat in his father’s large wooden armchair to the side of the fireplace – she’d often seen the chair on the porch when she’d walked past with her mother to collect water from the well. He seemed deep in thought as his elbows rested on the arms and his fingers formed a peak on his lips. She suspected his thoughts would be about the tunnel, no longer secret. She knew he’d want to fully explore each and every part of the labyrinth.

  “You sit so silently,” the feminine voice broke the crackling of the fire as a delicate hand rested on Prater’s shoulder. Mary saw him start slightly at the intrusion, and her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of Quinn’s sister. Prater though, once he leaned back, regained his composed expression.

  “This is the last place I thought to see you.”

  Cecilia’s cynical laughter followed, and she moved towards the fireplace. Her eyes momentarily watched the flames before she turned back to look at Prater.

  “Cecilia, I presume.”

  Her lips flinched slightly “I am Cecilia, and yes, I suppose it is a rather unusual place for me to be, but you see, that useless little book-keeper has left me in a little predicament. Plus, your men have been asking a lot of questions in the neighbouring towns which is making my life unpleasant. I thought perhaps we could come to an...an arrangement.”

  “I would rather be rid of you. Sorcerers are no more welcome in this village than dragons.”

  “Now, now, I came here to play nicely.”

  “How would I be able to assist you? What has Mary done exactly?”

  “Mary has become bound to a man. A man that I was to be bound to.”

  “So, choose a new man; I am not bound.”

  Cecilia laughed and looked around the room dismissively.

  “I chose that man for a reason; it must be him. Michael possesses a rare quality that is difficult and rather time consuming to discover. I don’t have the patience to waste another ten years finding a suitable replacement.”

  “So, is this man a sorcerer, too? Or perhaps he is a dragon?” Prater asked, fishing for information. Mary, too, felt curious about Michael; he had seemed like a regular human by the time they parted.

  “Nothing of the sort, he is just a mere mortal – much like yourself.”

  “A mortal?” Prater contemplated the words before looking back at the sorceress. “So, Mary told the truth about the binding to me. I’m surprised to hear that.”

  “I can’t help you with any of that; all I know is that I’m in a bind of my own due to that girl’s actions.”

  “Does this man have a name?”

  “Of course he has a name, but it is not something you need to know.” Cecilia continued to stand, her presence demanding attention, and yet she stood calmly.

  Prater pursed his lips in frustration, narrowed his eyes on Cecilia, and asked cautiously, “What is it that you think I can do?”

  “I need that binding broken, but a little oath I took at The Academy prevents me from doing so. After all, I like having power, magic, and I am not about to give that up without a hell of a fight.”

  “I don’t know how to break a binding – except if one of them dies.”

  Cecilia raised her eyebrows, smiled at Prater, and laughed.

  “I’m not going to kill Mary, if you were hoping for that. It seems to me that you have a lot to lose if you don’t break the binding – I have a lot of power here in the village to lose and I won’t compromise that either.”

  Mary breathed relief that Prater drew a line at some things. She shifted her feet, as one had begun to feel numb, but regretted the pins and needles that replaced it. Grimacing, she moved her head to try and gain a different view of the conversation.

  Cecilia took a step closer to Prater and leaned forward so that their eyes were level. “You really are a prince, aren’t you? Luckily for you, I am not allowed to kill Mary, and having someone else do the killing is also against Academy rules, unfortunately. There are those that say the dragons can break a binding.”

  “So, what does that have to do with me?”

  “Books, Prater, it will be in the books.” Cecilia straightened herself upright and stepped back towards the fireplace, maintaining eye contact all the while. “The dragons record everything; in one of those books there will be a way to break the binding. I want you to find it.”

  “You want me to find one book in that book building?”

  “I know you can read – there is no point in playing coy with me.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t dare ask how you know.”

  Mary’s curiosity about how Cecilia knew he could read had been piqued as well but supposed she may have bluffed it. Prater’s expression would have been enough to confirm it anyway as he interlocked his fingers together, rested them casually against his stomach, and sunk a little deeper into the chair.

  “And what would I get out of all this?”

  “Why that meddling book-keeper would be free of her binding of course.”

  Mary glanced down at the binding mark, and then back to Prater in time to see a contemptuous smile appear on his face.

  “I need more than just Mary free of a binding – after all, look at what you would be gaining should I be successful.”

  Cecilia growled, and placed her hands on her hips. “What is it that you want?”

  “Let me think on it.”

  “I did not come here to leave empty-handed; give me an answer.”

  “Something of this magnitude requires thought and consideration – you are free to stay and wait, but I have no idea how long it will be before I make my decision.”

  Cecilia sighed. The neutral expression she’d maintained so far faded as her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pursed.

  “I would have thought that a man with your power would be more decisive.”

  Prater unlocked his fingers, and gestured his hands outwards, nonchalantly.

  “Very well. I will return in one week, no earlier and no later – have your answer ready or I might just decide to cease playing nicely.” Cecilia raised her hands and vanished in a spray of blue light.

  Prater refolded his hands and glanced around the room.

  “Well, that was unexpected. I could just ignore her, or then again, I could ask for wealth, but there isn’t much use for that here – same can be said for wanting property. No, if I am to help her, I need to have some benefit for myself. “

  Prater stood suddenly, and Mary leaned back too fast and fell against the wall. She hurriedly stood, bolted for her room, and slid under the blankets. Her heart thudded as she tried to keep her eyes relaxed, her body still, and her breathing shallow. Maintaining all that would have been easier without hearing Prater’s steady stride coming closer to the door. The footsteps ceased, and she tried swallowing despite her mouth being dry.

  “Get a grip,” he muttered before the door swung open and a moment later closed again, taking the light that had glowed with it.

  Mary opened one eye and then the other. She breathed out slowly when she saw that no one else occupied the room. Shifting to a more comfortable position, she snuggled down beneath the blanket; thoughts of what to do about Cecilia’s plan kept her awake.

  Chapter 15

  “Mary, where are you going?”

  Her breath ricocheted off the door and she grimaced at how close she’d come.

  “I thought that...I thought the books should go back on the shelves.”

  Prater stood in the doorway to the living room, and she was annoyed that her plan had been foiled. She had hoped to locate the book and conceal it somewhere before he’d realised she’
d left, thinking it seemed the obvious one to have the information he wanted. Being bound to Michael seemed infinitely better than having it broken and facing the alternative in front of her.

  “Good idea, Mary, wouldn’t want to upset the dragons, now would we? I’ll come too.”

  As Mary and Prater walked towards the book building, she glanced around at her home village but found no one willing to make eye contact, everyday tasks suddenly much more involved than they once were. She spared a glance at Prater but found him focused ahead.

  For a time, Prater and Mary were amongst the books in silence. Mary set about piling up the books and shelving them, her eyes scanning each similar cover for the dragon engraving. She had thought of trying to hide it amongst a larger pile, or maybe towards the top of the shelves, but knew that any of those actions were more likely to draw Prater’s attention than divert it.

  “Why not bring a few back to the house?”

  Mary looked up at Prater, surprised at the offer. “Before I would have but now there’s no point.”

  “How so? Come on, most the time you spend with these books, surely you enjoy them a little.”

  “I used to but that was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I could read and now I can’t. Consequences abound it would seem for everything I try to do.”

  “People don’t just forget a skill like reading. It would be like me forgetting how to ride a horse - after a while it becomes second nature. Why would you pretend you can’t read?” She looked over at him as he held a book in his own hand.

  I wish I could believe that I was just pretending the lines meant nothing. She ran her finger over the embossed bridge on the cover of the book she held.

  “Is it easier if I just say that books aren’t important to me anymore? Would that be easier for you to accept?” Mary replied and continued to put the book on top of her pile. Lifting the stack, she headed for the nearest shelves and began offloading them.

  “Okay, I’ll humour you. You suddenly can’t read because of whatever reason. Why put them back on the shelves then? Let’s forget that dragon excuse - there are hundreds of book buildings across the kingdom that have become dusty and the dragons haven’t sought revenge that we’ve heard. Why not just ignore all this and walk away from it?”

  “It gives me something to do.”

  “We have so little in our lives, it’s almost a little pathetic. Perhaps you can help me then.” She glanced over at him as he sat down at one of the desks – more specifically the one that had once been her favourite. “I’m after a book, a very specific book – perhaps one that Yansa didn’t want you to read.”

  “There are lots of books I haven’t read...”

  “But how many didn’t Yansa want you to read?”

  Just the one, Mary thought to herself, well, just the one I know of.

  “I don’t know about all the books, Master.” Mary grabbed a red leather-bound book, the final in the stack she’d moved, and placed it on the lowest of shelves trying to ignore Prater’s unyielding gaze.

  “What about the book?”

  “The book?”

  “The one you read; the book that prompted you to rescue those men from the cell. Tell me, Mary, which book persuaded you to take such drastic action?”

  “A brown-covered one,” Mary replied. She hadn’t lied but felt pleased with her answer – the book did have a brown cover and with such a generic title she could hardly point him in the right direction.

  “You’re going to need to be a bit more specific, Mary.”

  Mary looked at the cover of the book in her hand and while she couldn’t read the title, she knew that the book contained information about flowers due to the dragon-rose flower embossed into the leather cover.

  “It has a dragon on the cover.” Just like a hundred other books here do.

  Mary couldn’t help but smile as she watched Prater move off to a pile of books with conviction. She took pleasure knowing he would find a large collection of brown books with dragons on them. If the books hadn’t been tossed to the floor in such a haphazard way, she may have considered offering assistance, but the distance would be easier if she found the book first.

  With Prater busy in his own book quest, Mary relaxed at the distance that now separated them. Adjusting her kneeling position, a portion of her apron clicked against the stone floor – unnoticed by Prater who failed miserably at conducting a search quietly.

  Reaching into the pocket of her apron, Mary retrieved the little blue and green stone. Another glance in Prater’s direction saw that he was occupied by his task, and Mary’s shoulders slackened as she stared at the stone. Again, as she focused on the swirls that almost appeared to be moving, she felt a sense of familiarity about the stone...the longer she stared, the stronger the feeling grew. The smoothness of the stone, quiet and unassuming...the swirls of blue and green; a hint of a smile appeared on Mary’s face. Quinn. The colours of the stone reminded her of the sorcerer’s eyes – eyes that she had foolishly thought had belonged to a dragon.

  A loud thud from behind startled Mary and the stone dropped from her fingers and landed soundlessly on the fabric of her dress. Prater cursed a book that he had dropped directly on his foot, attempting to shift it away with his other; Mary knew that one well, as she’d often struggled to lift the book herself. As much as she tried to suppress the smile on her face, she felt it spread in amusement. Prater looked up and their eyes met for a moment before Mary turned back to her own pile of books. Out of sight, Mary recovered the stone from the folds of her dress’s fabric and returned it to the safety of the apron pocket.

  AS MARY TURNED OVER in the bed, she could hear Prater’s pacing footsteps echoing through the house. She hadn’t planned on leaving the bed but when the pacing ceased, she made her way to the room down the corridor.

  He had paused near one of the paintings of his parents, his face concentrating on their faces that stared out blankly. The flash of light from the corner didn’t draw his attention but Mary recognised it immediately.

  “Prater.”

  “Don’t you ever use the front door?” Prater turned to face her and his foot slipped on the wood. He reached out his hand steady himself. Mary smiled and stifled the urge to laugh at the way Prater attempted to cover the undignified movement.

  “Doors are such useless objects; I mean, what exactly do they keep out?” Cecilia waited as Prater pulled both the chairs closer to the fireplace. He motioned with his hand towards one and sat down in the other. “Have you made up your mind then?”

  The room fell silent as Prater watched the flames before taking another look at his parents. Mary could see Cecilia’s fingers as they tapped rapidly on the arm of the chair, at odds with the calmness of her face.

  “I have made up my mind.”

  “And...come on...I don’t have all night.”

  “You’re not the patient type, are you?”

  “I planned for ten years and had to be extremely patient during that time; that was all I had in me.”

  “I will help you to find the spell, but I have a price.”

  “Riches?”

  Prater’s shook his head. “No, riches enough I have. I want you to make me younger and to encourage Mary to have feelings for me.”

  “I must say Prater your choice amuses and surprises me. I can make you younger – that is easy enough to do, but I can’t make Mary have feelings for you. Free will is a pain, isn’t it?”

  “Thankfully,” Mary murmured and rubbed her arms against the sudden chill that had swept over her.

  “Ah,” Prater leaned towards the fire, his forehead creased and his jaw set. “I had thought you powerful enough for anything.”

  Cecilia laughed lightly. “Once I am bound then maybe I will have that sort of power but for the moment I am unable.” Turning her head away from the fire, Cecilia watched as Prater leaned back into his chair. “Surely you don’t hold real feelings for Mary, so why should you care if she feel
s anything for you?”

  Mary leaned forward, curious to hear the reply. Prater had made his interest in her known for a while but with so few young women in Tiani since the burning, she wondered if it were more an evitable choice for Prater.

  Prater looked over at Cecilia. “Small village, it is better to have someone willing to bind to you rather than forced.”

  “Then I suggest you use the old-fashioned way to get her to like you,” Cecilia paused, “It worked well enough for me.”

  “I believe women possess far more subtle charms for that purpose compared to most men.”

  “If you want to secure something, I believe it is worth learning new skills.”

  “Perhaps then it is because I have tried that already. Perhaps before all this Mary might have agreed but since the binding there is something different about her.”

  “With the binding broken then you shall have all the time in the world.”

  Cecilia stood up from the chair and raised her arms to leave.

  “Wait.”

  Cecilia’s arms remained where they were.

  “How will I let you know that I have found the book?”

  “Just read the spell and I will know you have done it.” She vanished with a wave of her hand. Mary sat back for a moment, wondering if the book that might break the binding could possibly be in other book buildings. Yansa had told her that not all contained the same books, but she didn’t think dragons were stupid enough to not have multiple copies in existence.

  If I could get out of here, find someone who could read, maybe I could break the binding myself. She liked the sound of not being in debt to anyone.

  “Huh, perhaps I should have asked her exactly how long I would need to wait until she fulfils her promise. Damn, I should have been more explicit with my terms for that agreement,” Prater muttered as he grabbed the poker and stirred up the wood; the fire increased and he sat back, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair.

  Chapter 16