Good Luck, Bad Luck

by Jenni Ward

  “So what’s your point? I don’t read so none of this interests me much,” Quinn replied.

  “Take this in your hand.”

  Quinn balked at the sight of the gold. He knew the power the gold had to weaken his power and even take his life if it made contact for too long, but had no idea of what would happen now.

  “Why?”

  “Do you have some reason as to ask that?”

  Quinn shrugged. Prater continued to look at Quinn as he resumed the walking the path he’d made in the dirt. “You don’t look like a villager. Your clothes are not the browns and blacks that commoners wear, not even the well-off ones in the cities. Red, that’s a bold colour to wear as a shirt, but that cloak, not many wear them anymore. Maybe you hesitate because you’re a sorcerer?”

  “I hesitate because I do not know why I should hold that stone.”

  “To prove that you aren’t a sorcerer; you hold that piece of stone until the sun is at its highest in the day, and I shall let you pass through this village and be on your way.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  That question brought a cynical smile and accompanying laugh from Prater. “Then I will hang you on principle.”

  Quinn knew that he had no choice but to touch the gold. He closed his eyes and wished himself a thousand kilometres away, which he could have done if he’d had his magic, before his eyes opened and he extended his hand to take the gold.

  With the gold firmly grasped in his hand, Quinn felt no immediate change, except that his nerves were steadily increasing. The constant staring of Prater’s evil eyes annoyed him; he was like an eagle watching for a mouse, ready to take flight in an instant to seize his prey. At length, Prater moved a little way off and barked an order for a chair to be brought to him by one of the children passing by. Dutifully the child returned with a chair.

  “Why the test?” Quinn asked, looking over at Prater who looked comfortably relaxed on his chair.

  “I’m searching for a young woman.”

  “That doesn’t explain the gold.”

  Prater leaned forward and motioned his finger for Quinn to move closer. Walking towards him, Quinn turned the gold over in his hand. It seemed so innocent now, just a stone.

  “Because, stranger, she could be in disguise.”

  “How could she be if she is a human?”

  “Because stranger, there’s sorcery involved in all this. I have a lot of trust issues and for very good reason.

  “So who’s this woman you are searching for?” Quinn queried. He knew Prater was referring to Mary, but the story sounded fantastical at best.

  “Our book-keeper has been taken from us, and we want her to back.”

  “And these magical beings took her?”

  “Well, I know someone did, not sure who, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “If it doesn’t matter, what then? Do you intend to go after both just because it will make you feel better?”

  Prater got up from his chair closed the few steps to Quinn. The sun had some way still to rise before being at its zenith.

  “Why are you so interested?” Prater paused. Around him the villagers continued with their work, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary seeing a man standing in the middle of the dirt divide holding a piece of rock in his hand.

  “I have nothing else to think about while foolishly standing here, plus, it sounds like an interesting story.”

  “An interesting story?” Prater turned his attention to the broken door of the book building. “I’ll tell you an interesting story. There was this girl, a quiet girl who steered clear of everyone else in the village. With her family all dead, she was taken in by the local book-keeper. She learnt to read and write and take care of the books – which she continued to do after the book-keeper passed. Then though, she read one book, and this one book gave her ideas and she freed a man from the cells who was to be hung. She disappeared and then came back again. Another man disappeared from the cell, and I find out this girl has been bound to another, but he isn’t around. All the pieces fall together then. I was too blind to see that she was the one freeing the men, but then she disappears from inside a room and this time she doesn’t return.”

  “And now you are trying to find her,” Quinn added, finishing the story that had a familiar ring to it.

  “Exactly.” Prater started back to his chair.

  “So why do you want to find her?” Quinn felt the words may make him sound too involved or invested in the story, so he added, “Since she obviously worked behind your back to free these men?”

  “Because her place is here.”

  “You’re going to hang her?”

  A conceited smile crossed over Prater’s smug face. “No, I want to be bound to her.”

  The comment caught Quinn by surprise; he had thought the man beyond feelings for anyone but himself, and Mary had not given him any indication of feelings for Prater. Quinn reasoned that with Prater probably didn’t care for Mary, but only with possessing something at a particular moment in time he wanted.

  “Look around, you see many girls here? I’ve known her all my life and we have certain things in common, like reading. As much as I despise the skill it isn’t as worthless as I thought once.” Prater looked past Quinn. “And returning Mary to keep the books might just bring me some of that dragon luck.”

  “Then shouldn’t you be looking for the man she is bound to?” The smug look vanished from Prater’s face.

  “That’s a very good idea. Get me a horse, Delwyn,” Prater yelled at a young man, who hurried off to fulfil the demand. Prater turned his attention back to the Quinn. Quinn’s hand ached from holding the gold but that was it. “And you, you can come with me.”

  Quinn breathed with relief at the prospect of not standing any longer. The gold had not affected him in the slightest but still, as he held it in his hand, a wariness of it remained. Turning his thoughts to Mary, he wondered if the binding record would exist since he had broken it.

  But it did still take place, Quinn thought to himself on the subject, so it should be there. And with the binding broken it won’t be long before Cecilia finds out, she’s not stupid. And once she knows she’ll go back to Michael. If Prater finds them, it will lead right back to me.

  Two horses trotted towards Quinn led by Delwyn. Prater tapped Quinn on the shoulder and took the gold from his hand, hiding it back away into his pocket. Prater nodded at the dappled brown and cream mare and then looked to Quinn. Stepping towards the horse, it turned its head and watched him with dark eyes; Quinn hadn’t been on a horse since the Academy – and that experience had been just another he would have preferred to forget about.

  Casting his eyes to the side, Quinn saw Prater mount his own cream mare. With a formal pose, he glanced around the village before his eyes found Quinn again.

  “You need a special invitation? I’m assuming you can ride, otherwise you’re about to get a very intense lesson.”

  Quinn inwardly snarled at Prater but after patting the horse on the neck, hooked his foot into the stirrup and threw his leg over. He could cope easily with moving through space with magic but the feeling of being so high off the ground made his stomach turn and his eyes blur. His parents had taught him to ride; they had valued creatures and Cecilia had been insistent to learn, determined that when she was older she’d find a unicorn or pegasus of her own. Focusing on the mare’s head, Quinn picked up the worn rein and tugged on one side so she turned around.

  .

  Chapter 23

  In a cloud of dust, the two riders entered Haversy. After orientating himself, Prater turned the horse towards the left road and Quinn nodded in response, following Prater’s cloudy trail until they reached a large building. Quinn had always thought the gathering building could use a bit of style since all the ones he’d seen were identical. Still, it makes them easy to find.

  Quinn pulled on the reins and his mare slowed down until she trotted up to her horse companion and stopped. Prater had alread
y dismounted and headed up the stairs two at a time. Turning his head, Quinn thought about seizing the moment and taking off on the horse, but he tucked the idea away and dismounted, catching his shoe in the stirrup as he did. Landing on the ground, the horse turned towards him.

  “Yeah, very funny, I’m here for your amusement.” The horse whinnied in response before seeking out the lush grass at her hooves.

  Standing up, Quinn’s back ached, his backside a combination of pins and needles and numbness. He raised his eyes in time to see Prater disappear through the door. He gave the horse another reassuring pat on the side before waddling towards the stairs hoping his body would return to feeling normal quickly.

  “Binding man!” Prater’s voice demanded as the double wooden doors exploded open as he entered the main room from the entrance in a fury. Ahead, a wide-eyed man stood clutching a book in his arms with his mouth hanging open. “Binding man, I need information.”

  “Please,” Quinn muttered as he walked into the room.

  The man raised his eyebrows and smiled, though Quinn thought it resembled the way he looked when he’d had to greet a distant relative who insisted on tight hugs and covering him with kisses. Quinn casually followed Prater, and as he approached the binding man, he brushed the dirt from his clothes.

  Despite having seen many gathering rooms from the outside, Quinn had never been inside one. Following behind Prater, he noticed it differed from what he had imagined, far less ornate and without the huge bouquets of flowers everywhere. He’d never given much thought to the ceremony; being bound had always been something humans did. Still, his thoughts wandered to what Mary’s ceremony to Michael might have been like, what Cecilia’s would be to Michael if he didn’t find another way to stop her plan once she kick-started it again. A sorcerer would only need a gathering room if they were being bound to a human and being against the rules...Quinn, had watched a few partnership contracts signed at the Sorcery Council’s offices, not their private levels, just the general admittance one. He’d never be able to go there again without his powers. Choosing a partner had predominately been a decision made by the Council. Quinn resented the Council for many things, including how hard it had been for him to hold onto friendships from school, let alone entertaining any other thoughts beyond friendship.

  “I need to know about a man and woman who were bound here, not so long ago.”

  The man stepped over to the large book that sat on the podium and glanced up at Prater. “My son, I will need more information to go by if I am to find them in the records.”

  “Her name was Mary, she was from Tiani. The man – I don’t know his name.”

  “Ah yes, I remember them,” the binding man chuckled and turned a few pages back in search of the record and then added, “She seemed a lot keener than he to be bound.”

  “What is his name?” Prater’s demanded. His foot tapped against the stone floor at a furious pace.

  “Michael, Michael of Yevma.” Quinn’s ears pricked at the familiar district name. Cecilia had set up a home in that district, choosing a human home over the magical style that Quinn had. He had been there a few times in search of his sister but had not known that Michael lived so close. “Hmm, that’s strange...”

  “What’s strange?” Prater demanded and stepped forward, pushing the man slightly to the side as he looked at the book.

  “The record number has been stricken through, odd – they both seemed so healthy and young – one of them might have died – the binding is broken.”

  Quinn closed his eyes and thanked the dragon; any small doubt that might have remained about him keeping his word vanished. Still, as he watched a pensive Prater at the podium, he wondered what would happen now. With Mary free of the binding it meant Quinn now had the other issue of ensuring Mary didn’t get bound to someone she didn’t want to.

  “Is there any way of knowing for sure what broke the binding?” Prater asked cautiously.

  The man tapped his fingers against the book he held, “According to folklore there are supposed to be many ways of breaking a binding besides death – but I couldn’t say...”

  “Are you sure there is no way of finding out?” Prater looked at the binding man, whose face clouded over as he straightened himself up.

  “I have already told you that...”

  “But I need to know!”

  “These records maintain themselves, sir. You’ll need to either find where they went or go find a dragon and ask them since all this is their forte in action. I can’t assist you further.” The man turned and left with hurried footsteps, and Quinn suppressed laughter at the indignation the man displayed.

  Prater looked up at Quinn, and he tried to cover his smile with a discrete cough.

  “Your suggestion was helpful, maybe strangers aren’t all so bad.” Quinn didn’t like the sound of that; he wanted to return home and the physical entrance was still a distance away. “I could use a man like you around. We’ll head back to Tiani to fetch more men.”

  “I didn’t say I would help you.”

  Prater looked over at him. “Help me this once and that horse is yours.”

  Riding on a horse will be much quicker than walking, Quinn nodded in agreement. A few more days away from Cashel isn’t going to make much of a difference anyway.

  RIDING INTO THE VILLAGE, Quinn noticed Delwyn running towards Prater as he waved a piece of paper in his hand.

  “You got a response, Master. The rider came from Riejan.”

  “I hoped pestering the book building caretakers might lead to something. Let’s see if it’s good news.” Prater dismounted, almost falling in his haste as the heel of his boot caught in the stirrup before he reached his hand out. “Come here, Delwyn. Let me read it!”

  Prater snatched the letter. Delwyn took a step backward and clasped his hands behind his back as he lowered his head. Quinn spurred his horse forward trying to see what information the paper contained. Prater glanced up as Quinn circled from behind. Quinn dismounted and joined Prater’s side.

  “It’s a letter from some man called Elkan from the sea city of Riejan. He says, well, I’ll just read it. ‘A young lady is my newest student. Her name is Mary and comes from some way away, though she will not say from where. She is bound to Michael of Yevma of the manor on the hill. You will remember I told you of the mysteriousness surrounding his return some time ago with a binding mark, yet no wife. She is a very keen student to teach, and I am surprised at how quickly she is working through her lessons. I wonder as to whether she has been taught to read before as she makes connections with letters and sounds without much instruction. In regards to Michael though, it is a strange thing indeed. I believe I wrote to you when he was to be bound to a beautiful woman called Cecilia. She though hasn’t been seen since Michael returned here. There are some who believe she isn’t as she seems...”

  Turning to Delwyn, Prater asked, “Where’s the city of Riejan? It must be close to this Yevma manor.”

  “Riejan is right on the outskirts of the Great Forest to the west.”

  “Send out a messenger to direct the men to Riejan and gather as many men as you can from the village...we’re going to sort this sorcerer and human mess out, once and for all.”

  Quinn followed Prater to his house to relax and enjoy something to eat before heading for Riejan. The thought of heading through the Great Forest to where he’d contacted the dragon caused him to shift uncomfortably in the chair as he stared at the fire before him. He’d been eager to make contact with Cashel again, but it seemed a bigger plan needed to unfold first.

  Prater placed a tray of food on the table between the chairs and sat down himself. He didn’t hesitate to begin eating the meal.

  “What did you mean about the sorcerer?” Quinn asked after devouring the last morsel from his plate.

  Prater looked over as he set his own empty plate on the little table. He leaned back, stretched his arms out, and rested behind his head.

  “This Michael, he’s caused
a few problems and I need to ensure one has been resolved. I told you about Mary before, and now we both know that she is, well was, bound to him. Well, he was the reason a sorceress, Cecilia, came to the village. Gorgeous thing, but dangerous – all sorcerers are, you know? Mary claimed to be bound to a mortal, but I can’t understand why would someone protect a mortal? I don’t know, maybe he is a sorcerer and she lied. Either way, we’ll find out.”

  “So, you are going after him for what then?” Quinn asked.

  “I might just hang him from the nearest tree on principle.”

  “Surely he must be dead as the binding is broken.”

  “Nothing is ever that simple in life. I have the feeling that both are still alive. If I am correct about that then this Michael is still alive, but he won’t be for much longer if I find he’s a sorcerer.”

  “You hate sorcerers as much as dragons then?”

  “I hate anything that dares to cross the kingdom boundaries. There was a good reason for each to be separated.”

  Quinn squirmed again in his chair. He crossed, before uncrossing, his legs. “Do you hope to win Mary’s heart?”

  Prater sneered and shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t force something that isn’t there, but I’m confident I’ll prevail in what I want.”

  Chapter 24

  The carriage pulled up in front of the book building in Riejan. Michael and Mary sat in uncomfortable silence. Neither had talked about the broken binding – they had both noticed, and a look between them had decided that things would need to change. Mary had wondered how Michael might have broken it when she hadn’t seen him gone from the manor for more than a day at most. She had considered the alternative as well, that it hadn’t been Michael at all, and that Quinn might have. That thought had been discarded quickly as she reminded herself that breaking the binding would only complicate Quinn’s own situation.