Good Luck, Bad Luck

by Jenni Ward

  “You don’t have to leave, Mary. Mother likes having you around,” Michael said and turned his head to look at her. She held her bag tightly with her possessions safely packed inside.

  “I stayed nearly a week after the binding broke, and that was probably longer than I should,” Mary replied. Michael nodded and shifted his feet. “I am sorry, for everything. I am sure we won’t cross paths again. I wish you well, Michael.”

  “I guess despite it all I’m lucky Cecilia has forgiven me getting bound to you.”

  “You’ve heard from her?” Mary asked, surprised.

  Michael nodded. “She came to see me away from the house. My binding to her is back on. I don’t know that I can forgive you Mary, but I guess there’s more to what happened than I know. A bit of advice though: don’t do it to another man. You should be with someone because you care for them.”

  Mary glanced at the ground. It was hard to hear his rebuke, but she knew he had a point. She hoped that somehow maybe she might get a second chance too.

  “Good luck, Michael.”

  Michael stared beyond Mary. She had thought he would say something in reply, but by the time she had awkwardly dismounted the carriage and managed not to drop her bag, he continued to sit in the same silence.

  Standing on the pavement, she felt comforted that she would soon be back in the familiarity of a book building. Elkan had been surprised when she had turned up the previous day. The excitement for the binding mark vanishing had given her the energy to walk the distance into the town to see him. Mary had told him of the news in awe, only for him to sit back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the arm of his chair while his eyes gazed at the bookshelf off to one side.

  Mary felt that she should say something more, perhaps even apologise again, but no more words wanted to be spoken. After she stepped back, away from the carriage, Michael flicked the reins and continued down the street. Mary felt disappointed that he hadn’t said anything in return, didn’t explain the broken binding, and didn’t turn back.

  Mary watched the carriage until it disappeared from view. She glanced down, drawn to the bare white skin of her hand that no longer had a black ink marking. In her heart she knew she still wanted the chance to see Quinn again. She wished that she hadn’t left the stone behind but reminded herself that he was still a sorcerer. She turned and ascended the stairs to her new home.

  THE DAYS PASSED DIFFERENTLY in the book building. At the manor, days had felt drawn out and stilted, but surrounded by books again, and learning the words to read them again, the days passed by with something new to see and learn.

  Still, whenever she looked at her hand, it reminded her that there were many things in the kingdom she didn’t know about. One night, as the fire burned brightly, she decided to see if Elkan knew anything more, or could at least point her in the direction of where she might find out.

  “Elkan?”

  Aged eyes looked up from the pages of the book he was reading and focused on Mary. “Yes child?”

  “I know about the Golden Law and all that, but what about the history of the three kingdoms. I’ve never really thought about it much before, things were just how they are. It’s not that I don’t know anything at all, but I wonder about the dragon kingdom and the sorcerer one.”

  “Well, if you think I am that old, child, then I hate to disappoint you. The boundaries between the dragon and human kingdoms blurred some time back, though sorcerers have always kept to themselves.”

  “But dragons rarely have anything to do with humans either, do they? Because of the rules that are in place.”

  “I’m afraid you may know more about the topic than I do. Dragons maintain the records, the books around us, but each one was written by a human. I’m not sure if the magic they put on the books was some kind of recompense for the war that occurred with the sorcerers or not. If it was, then I would be very interested to know what sort of compensation the sorcerers made to the humans.”

  “Humans got caught in the middle?”

  “Very much so. I don’t know what started the war between the two kingdoms, but I do know that many humans lost their lives in the crossfire, innocent people. A treaty was made between the two sides but how that came about I don’t know.”

  “How can there be so much about our own history we don’t know? I mean, what happened back then impacts what people have been taught to believe generation after generation and yet none of us really seem to fully understand what even happened.”

  “I know the three kingdoms lived peacefully while they lived separately. Dragons can shift into human form; did you know that?” Elkan asked.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I remember years ago when I was chatting with a dear friend,” he pulled out a cord from which a yellow stone hung, “he said that dragons no longer have that power. He believed that the dragons that remain can no longer shift into a human form at all.”

  “A consequence of the Great War?”

  Elkan shrugged and leaned forward to prod the fire with the poker, before he settled back into his chair. “That I don’t know. Dragons crossed into the human kingdom and some chose to live as humans. From what I’ve heard that happened over a long period of time, though it wasn’t really talked about, but people knew. Then the Great War happened, and each kind was to keep to their own once again.”

  “It kind of seems strange to try and reverse something that had already happened.”

  “It was more likely damage control. I believe some dragons returned to their kingdom, but a great number continue to live in the Great Forest. There must have been some reason they moved from their territory in the first place, but I don’t believe I’ve read a single book on the subject.”

  “The dragons said their land was dying and that they had no choice.”

  “And who told you that?”

  Mary smiled; she’d told Elkan a little of what had happened but knew she’d left out quite a bit on purpose. “A sorcerer. He told me a little of what he knew.”

  “A sorcerer? You’ve spoken of this sorceress with the fiery temper but not a sorcerer. Child, you have met more magical beings in your very short life than I have in my very long life. And what else did this sorcerer say?”

  Mary looked at her lap as she recalled the night Quinn had told her about the Great War. “Quinn, I mean, the sorcerer, he said that they didn’t know if the dragons were telling the truth about the land dying. Both sides though accused the other of things and eventually they battled in hopes of one side having more power than the other.”

  “I don’t know about that but I guess that anything is indeed possible. The problem is that exceptions run rampant through rules that have been carefully crafted. From what I’ve read dragon and sorcerer magic doesn’t work the same way; both sides have magic but both are able to counter the others’ magic. It wouldn’t make much sense then for the sides to start something as devastating as the Great War. It would be like watching two snakes trying to kill each other with venom that they were both immune to.”

  “I believe they found a way around that, a way to tip the magic balance in their favour.”

  “The dragons or the sorcerers?”

  “Both, but I suspect they’d probably blame the other side for being the first to do so.”

  “And how did they accomplish such a thing?” Elkan leaned forward.

  “Humans were apparently the key, still are the key, sort of.”

  “Human, huh? Us with no magic are the most powerful of all?” Elkan chuckled.

  “I always believed that all dragons were good, but they’re not, are they?”

  “No, just like not all sorcerers are good and not all mortals are good. I sometimes wonder that perhaps the world needs a certain balance of good and bad to survive.”

  Silence settled and Mary fidgeted with her dress. Elkan had been kind enough to provide her with shelter and hadn’t asked for an explanation, even after the binding mark had finished. She assumed he’d noticed; she’
d assumed he would be curious, and yet he never pressed the subject. Mary though knew she trusted him as much as she had Yansa.

  “I read something, Elkan; I thought it would bring me good luck – dragon luck.”

  “Eh? It sounds like you did more than read something; you did something about what you read, didn’t you, child?” Elkan turned in his chair.

  Mary’s gaze met with Elkan’s and she averted her eyes as they misted over.

  “You worry about the man you care for?”

  “Michael is fine...” Mary started.

  “That is not what I asked, Mary.” Elkan reached out placed his hand gently on Mary’s knee. “It sounds to me that this other man cared for you too.”

  “But that doesn’t matter, does it, Elkan? Each of the three kingdoms was meant to remain separate. That’s what the Golden Law says and Quinn is a sorcerer. Even if the binding has somehow been broken I am still a human and he isn’t.”

  Elkan withdrew his hand and sat back in the chair, sinking into the fabric.

  “Sometimes it is best to just wait and see what your future will bring rather than worrying about things that may never happen. The binding is broken, and I’m sure an explanation of how that happened will be revealed in its own time and way.”

  Chapter 25

  The fire burned low and hot; there was no wind to disrupt the constant, chaotic rhythm of the flames. Two days, it had only been two days since the group has left Haversy, but for Quinn it had been a long two days. Quinn had settled to rest feeling rather comfortable, or as comfortable as someone could be sitting on hard, dry ground leaning against a tree three times his own diameter with bark peeled away in long coarse strips. Quinn wondered if it was those strips of bark, that hung from various spots on the tree, which were making his skin crawl each time he brushed against a piece. He shivered at the thought of what secrets, or creatures, those strips of bark kept hidden.

  The cloudless night was providing more than enough light to see, though the fire hid much of the surroundings that were out of its reach. From his position against the tree, Quinn studied Prater.

  For the better part of the journey to Riejan, they had not spoken – at least Quinn hadn’t. Occasionally Prater had interrupted the monotony of riding to offer unsolicited advice and thoughts on anything he felt like. Quinn watched as Prater kicked out his foot to prop himself up against the tree.

  “You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you? All these days and I’m none the wiser about you or where you’re from. Is there no one waiting for you?” Prater’s words were casual as he pulled a knife from his boot and started cutting a stick.

  “Just an empty house,” Quinn replied but felt guilty omitting Cashel.

  “You’re not eager to return home?”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  Prater leant forward. “You follow me for a horse. Why would you have travelled so far without one to begin with?”

  Quinn broke eye-contact and linked his fingers together behind his head. He focused on the stars twinkling in the night sky over head.

  “I didn’t think it through.”

  “You don’t come across as being a stupid man.”

  Quinn smiled, “Neither do you, and yet you are pursuing a man clear across this land for the purpose of...”

  “At first revenge, to save face, but now, now it is just answers,” Prater paused. He leaned back and rubbed his jaw. “...and revenge as well.”

  “Revenge doesn’t accomplish anything.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  Quinn looked over at Prater. “You don’t always learn from your own experience – sometimes seeing what other people do and go through are enough.”

  “Perhaps that’s why you are returning to an empty house. You really have no other family?”

  Quinn hesitated before replying, “I have family.”

  “Must be nice having a family. It’s been a long time since I had one. When I look around Tiani it’s like a constant reminder that families ceased to exist for us years ago.”

  “I saw many families.” Quinn glanced over to Prater in time to see the creases form on his forehead.

  “You saw the remains of families. Empty shells that once were families. It’s never been like it was before.”

  “A family isn’t always just parents and children. It can be strangers with a common purpose, a community – family is a sense, a feeling – not a thing.”

  “An interesting idea, but family is the flesh and blood that is formed from one generation to another. No bond will ever be stronger than blood.”

  “Not even love?”

  Prater laughed. “If I ever had to choose between love and blood, I know which would win every time.”

  Quinn watched Prater shake his head before closing his eyes. The spoken conversation had ended but what Prater said continued to turn over in Quinn’s mind. He’d never separated thoughts of love and blood; Cashel and Cecilia were equal to him as family, yet he wondered who he would choose if he had to. The feeling unsettled him as the answer evaded him even as he drifted off to sleep.

  THREE DAYS OF TRAVELLING passed without incident until on the fourth day, Prater’s horse kicked a shoe. A small village a short distance away provided Quinn and Prater with the chance to pause. Quinn surveyed the village. It might have been the same size as some of the villages around Tiani but it wasn’t the same. As he looked around Quinn could see smiling faces of people, children everywhere and strange inventions and things – like children running along while something flew in the air.

  “It won’t be ready until tomorrow,” the blacksmith informed Prater after looking at the horse’s hoof.

  “Why such a wait?” Prater replied impatiently.

  The middle-aged blacksmith smiled, showing slightly yellowed teeth beneath his red moustache.

  “Young man I believe that everyone must wait their turn for what they want, others are before you so you must wait.”

  “But I’m in a hurry.”

  Quinn shifted in his own saddle before dismounting. His feet were pleased to be back on the ground but his legs felt stiff from the long stretches of riding. He watched as Prater paced back and forth in front of the blacksmith whose face didn’t falter even when Quinn saw him look his way.

  “There has to be some way to expedite this matter; name your price.”

  “Boy, I value all my customers, and I demonstrate that by doing them in order of when they come to me. Unless it’s a matter of life and death. Impatience is not a matter of life and death in my humble opinion, so if you’re in such a hurry you’re welcome to reshoe the horse yourself. After all, it would also cost you less.”

  “Fine,” grumbled Prater and the blacksmith whistled. A young boy appeared and took the rein from Prater’s hand.

  Prater walked back towards Quinn. “All good then?”

  “I want you to ride ahead to Riejan; I need to try and counter this delay somehow.” Prater patted the horse as it drank from the water trough before he turned back to Quinn and pulled him aside. “We’ve bonded the past few days, but don’t think you can just ride off with my horse without keeping your end of the deal. I know your name and will track you down. I’ll wait here for the remaining men and I’ll catch up in a day or so.”

  “And what is it you want me to do in Riejan?” Quinn felt Prater’s hand connect hard with the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?”

  “What do you think you should do? Find out where the manor is. Find out any information about this Michael, I suspect there’s a wedding being organised to take place as we head there. I need to make sure Mary stays put at the book building in the city until I finish the other business I have.”

  “Right.”

  Quinn whistled and rubbed the back of his head as his horse turned away from the water and trotted over to him. Quinn nodded once more to Prater before he mounted the horse. His legs immediately objected to the familiar position, but he hoped to find somewhere sheltered th
ey could both properly rest for the night. Clicking his tongue, Quinn flicked the rein to urge the horse on. He headed down the road in the direction of Riejan. He wished he would find Mary at the book building and hoped that his task could somehow be resolved without any more consequences.

  The thundering of the horse’s hooves on the hard-packed earth announced Quinn’s presence on the road. He hoped the opportunity to be there first might slow down Prater’s plan at least. Quinn had passed by Michael’s home, but the thought that Mary might have chosen to go to Michael was something he hadn’t anticipated.

  As the night drew around Quinn, he had little choice but to stop. Allowing his horse to rest and graze nearby, Quinn lay down on the dry grass and stared up at the darkness. He wondered at the simple scene of a dark sky scattered with diamonds as he knew it was all far more complex than that.

  Closing his eyes, Quinn felt tired, but his mind continued to turn over everything from the past few weeks – his life as a sorcerer seemed far in the past. His mouth curled into a half-smile at the thought of the past and the future that he felt he could reach out and touch.

  Chapter 26

  “Can I assist you?”

  Quinn dismounted his horse and walked up the steps two at a time to where the old man stood unlocking the door.

  “Mary; is Mary here?” he said while attempting to catch his breath.

  “Why yes, she’s inside, and who might you...” but Quinn was already heading past the man and into the book building.

  Quinn’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimmer light inside. He leaned through the nearest doorway but found only empty chairs and books scattered on the table. Turning, he headed across the hall to another room and again looked inside. He hit his hand against the frame in frustration before he headed further down the hall.