Stuck In Magic

by Christopher Nuttall

  I shuddered. My ancestors had had much the same problem. I wondered if there was anyone in the city helping the serfs to run and hide. It was possible, although unlikely. Damansara would be easy to starve, if the warlord laid siege to the walls. The city fathers might try to turn a blind eye to any runaways, but if the warlords came calling with an army … I cursed under my breath. The runaways might keep wages down, too. It was quite possible they’d find themselves locked out of the local guilds, ensuring they’d have problems finding work. My ancestors had had that problem too.

  The knights finished poking their way through the caravans and headed back to the front of the convoy. I had the impression they hadn’t done a very good job, although it was hard to be sure. They’d probably made certain they’d checked everywhere big enough to hide a grown man. I frowned at the look on their faces as they walked up to us. They looked dark with anticipation. It wasn’t over yet.

  “On your feet,” the leader ordered us. “Now.”

  I stood, keeping my eyes lowered. I couldn’t understand why the Diddakoi were taking it so calmly, not even trying to put up a fight. Jasmine wasn’t the only magic-user amongst them, surely. The knights had had their fun … I tried not to grimace as they formed us up into a line, Jasmine at the front. I knew what was coming … I knew what was coming, even as I hoped and prayed I was wrong.

  “Let’s see what you’re carrying,” the knight said, with a leer. “Let’s see …”

  I felt a surge of anger as the knight started to search Jasmine, hands wandering all over her body. How dare he? Jasmine stood still, but I could tell she was shaking with rage. I’d been taught how to search prisoners, yet … it wasn’t about safety or security. It was about naked sadism and power and … they wanted to do worse, much worse. I knew the type far too well. They weren’t going to stop until …

  The pistol practically leapt into my hand. I pointed it at the leader’s head.

  “Step away from her!”

  He laughed. It wasn’t a nervous laugh. I was pointing a gun at his head, my finger tightening on the trigger, and he genuinely thought it was funny. It struck me, too late, that he honestly didn’t recognise the threat. The flintlocks and muskets I’d seen in the city were handmade things, strikingly crude. The pistol in my hand had come from another world. He probably thought I was threatening him with a truncheon.

  “Step away from her,” I repeated. “Now!”

  “I’ll teach you to threaten your betters,” the knight growled. He tugged the whip from his belt. “I think fifty lashes …”

  He shoved Jasmine to one side. I shot him, instinctively. The shot was

  strikingly loud in the silence. He staggered, then crumpled to the ground. His companion gaped, unsure what had happened, then grabbed for his sword. I shot him too, then turned to look for the third knight. He turned and fled, running for the horses as fast as he could. I guessed he wasn’t Sir Lancelot or Sir Galahad, even though I supposed a hasty retreat was the best choice under the circumstances. He’d just seen two men killed through what might as well have been magic. Even if he knew what a firearm was, he would never have seen anything like mine before. And putting some distance between us was his best chance of survival.

  I hesitated, then shot him in the back. He tumbled – I breathed a sigh of relief that the bullet had gone through his rear armour – and hit the ground. I paced towards him, keeping my pistol pointed at his head. He wasn’t dead, but –

  from the way blood was flowing out of the wound – it was just a matter of time.

  I grimaced in disgust. If he hadn’t been wearing armour, he might have survived long enough to get medical treatment. The bullet hadn’t just punched through the armour. It had rammed chips of metal through his body. He was beyond help.

  Jasmine stumbled to her feet. “What have you done?”

  I blinked at her. “They were going to rape you!”

  “I could have handled them,” Jasmine snapped. Sparks darted around her fingertips. “You didn’t have to kill them.”

  “You could have zapped them into frogs or something,” I pointed out. “Why … why did you even let them stop us?”

  Jasmine looked pained. “There are agreements,” she said. “We’re not supposed to get involved in local politics.”

  I scowled as I turned back to the dead knight. The guards might not have been magicians, I supposed, but their master probably had magic-users under his command. Maybe Jasmine could have taken them out, easily. Their master would have sent others after the travellers and who knew where that would have ended.

  I wondered, sourly, if I’d made a mistake. The local warlord might be an asshole who made regular assholes look bland by comparison, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take care of his men. I’d seen too many warlords in Afghanistan to feel otherwise. The smart ones treated their men well. The stupid ones rarely lasted long enough to make a mark. And if this local warlord had lasted long enough to establish a dynasty …

  The thought mocked me as I searched the bodies. They weren’t carrying much, beyond small pouches of coins. I poured them into my hands and studied them thoughtfully. They were so rough and imprecise that it was impossible to determine what they were worth, not without a pair of scales and some dumb luck.

  Or magic. One of the knights had a dagger concealed in his sleeve. Jasmine sniggered when she saw it. I didn’t get the joke.

  “What’s so funny?” I turned the blade over and over in my hand. It was very well made, certainly compared to the swords. I had the feeling they would snap under the right – or rather the wrong – conditions. “It’s just a dagger.”

  “That’s a virgin blade,” Jasmine explained, as I removed a miniature scabbard from the knight’s arm. “Noblewomen carry them, in order to defend their virtue.

  It’s very rare for a man to carry one.”

  “Probably why he carried it,” I said. I knew the value of a concealed weapon or two. The dead knight might have been endlessly mocked by his comrades for carrying a lady’s weapon, but it might have saved his life. Particularly, my thoughts added, if it was something he wouldn’t be expected to carry in the first place. “He could stab someone who thought he was defenceless.”

  The thought made me smile, which vanished when I looked at the knights. They

  were walking slabs of muscle. It was hard to believe they’d ever be helpless –

  or seen as helpless. I’d seen tougher men in the army, but not many. I was strong – I knew I was strong – but I was relieved I hadn’t had to trade punches with them. I had a feeling I might have lost.

  “We’ll have to bury them, then let the horses run off,” Grandfather Lembu said.

  I tried not to glare at him. He, not Jasmine, should have spoken to the knights. “And we have to talk.”

  Jasmine looked as if she wanted to say something, but he cut her off and looked me dead in the eye. “You can’t stay. Not now.”

  Chapter Seven

  I couldn’t say I was surprised.

  Not really, not after I’d killed the three knights. Clearly, there was something going on I didn’t understand. It was a grim reminder that I was a stranger in a strange land. Jasmine could have stopped them and yet … I didn’t understand. I promised myself I’d think about it later, when I had time. The bodies were cooling, and the Diddakoi were burying them by the roadside, yet it was only a matter of time until their master realised they were missing. They hadn’t looked to be part of a decent outfit, with superiors who looked out for them, but I couldn’t take it for granted. In my experience, most warlords tended to be very aware of the foundations of their power. The ones who lost sight of what put them on top tended to lose everything else very quickly.

  A chill ran down my spine as the wind shifted, bringing with it a reminder of the encroaching desert. The Diddakoi were ignoring me – although some of the young men were shooting admiring glances at me – and I felt alone, even though I had yet to start walking. I didn’t even know
where I’d do. Heading further into the warlord’s territory struck me as foolish, perhaps even dangerous.

  Small communities and suchlike tended to be worried about strangers. The odds were good I couldn’t pass for a local. Everything from skin colour to posture shouted that I was a traveller from distant lands. I feared the worst if they decided I was a potential threat. For all they knew, I was the vanguard of an invading army.

  If my entire unit had arrived here, I thought sourly, we could have carved out an empire before we ran out of bullets.

  I put the thought aside as wishful thinking and checked my pistol. I had four rounds left in the clip and another clip on my belt. It was a relief to know the bullets could go through armour – and whatever magical protections the knights might have had – but my military superiority wouldn’t last. Once the bullets were gone, they were gone. Hell, just having superior weapons was no guarantee of victory. In theory, I could reload the gun with local powder. In practice, I feared that trying would end with the pistol exploding in my hand.

  Jasmine caught my arm and pulled me behind the caravan. She looked … flushed, although I wasn’t sure why. Embarrassment I’d saved her? Or … I gritted my teeth, unwilling to entertain the thought of her family blaming her for being groped. I’d seen that before, in too many countries to mention. And … I still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t saved herself. The knights hadn’t posed any kind of threat to her. She could have blasted them all before they could react, let alone lash out or run.

  “Thanks.” Jasmine’s hands twisted for a long moment. “I …”

  I took the plunge. “Why didn’t you save yourself?”

  “There are agreements,” Jasmine said. “I could … I could have handled it. I could have dealt with them. I could have … I could have handled them in ways that wouldn’t bring a world of trouble down on our heads. But … I couldn’t do

  anything overt.”

  I reminded myself, sharply, that this was a very different world. The Diddakoi paid a price for their freedom to roam where they willed. And yet … it was hard to accept I might have done the wrong thing.

  “There are hexes of permanent impotence,” Jasmine was saying. I barely heard her. “Or other spells, all of which …”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, although it wasn’t really true. There was no point in begging to be allowed to stay. My presence was a liability now. The Diddakoi would have to swear blind the knights had allowed them to pass, then met their fate later on. I supposed it would be easy enough. The local warlord might not even realise just what had killed his men. Even if he knew about gunpowder and muskets, my gun was from a whole other world. “I …”

  I wanted to ask her to come with me, but I had the feeling it would be pointless. Jasmine was going to go back to school, leaving her people alone.

  Unprotected. I supposed there might be a reason she had so much freedom … I shook my head, trying to put the amateur speculation aside. This society had magic. There was no reason to assume it had evolved along similar lines to my own and plenty of reasons to suspect otherwise. How did society cope with some of its people were effectively weapons of mass destruction?

  Jasmine held up a hand, then scrambled into the caravan and started to rattle through her drawers. I waited, silently cataloguing what I’d kept with me.

  Perhaps I could sell some of it for ready cash … I had a bunch of concepts I could sell for money, even if there was someone else who’d snapped up the low-hanging fruit, but getting them into production wasn’t going to be easy. I didn’t even know enough to determine where best to start. God knew there’d been plenty of busybodies, from the temperance and porridge women to civil affairs officers and social justice warriors, who hadn’t even bothered to ask why things were the way they were before trying to change them. I’d hated that sort of arrogance when I was a kid. And here, trying to meddle too much might end with my death.

  “Here.” Jasmine returned, carrying a small glass vial. “Regeneration potion.

  It’s tricky to make and pretty expensive, particularly as it isn’t tuned to a single person. Drink it in a single swallow and it’ll repair anything that doesn’t kill you outright. Once. Don’t try to dilute it. You might be able to sell it, if you’re desperate, but make sure you drive a hard bargain. You’ll only be able to sell it once.”

  I swallowed. I’d done a little buying in the marketplace, back in Damansara, but it hadn’t been easy to work out how much things cost. Prices had been very variable, certainly outside the basics like food, drink and clothing. “How much should I charge?”

  “As much as the market will bear.” Jasmine’s voice was serious. Very serious.

  “I could never have paid for the ingredients myself. I had to brew the cauldron at Whitehall and I was lucky to be allowed to keep a couple of vials. I was …”

  She shook her head. “If someone is seriously ill, the potion might save their life. But if they’re desperate, they might try to take it.”

  “I understand.” I had the sudden feeling she’d given me something everyone would want to steal. She might as well have given me a gold ingot to put in my pocket. The ingot might have been safer. “Do you … do you not need it for yourself?”

  Jasmine smiled. “I can handle most things without it,” she said, with a hint of pride. “I was going to be a healer. If it wasn’t for …”

  Her voice trailed off. I found it hard to look at her. Jasmine’s smile was so

  bright it was otherworldly, as if I was unworthy to so much as glance at her.

  It was suddenly very hard to even stand so close to her. Jasmine dropped down from the caravan and stood next to me. She barely came up to my shoulder, yet she seemed taller. A crude joke ran through my head, only to be instantly dismissed. She was something … different.

  Jasmine touched my chest with a single extended finger. I felt a faint tingle, which vanished so quickly I thought I’d imagined it. My heart seemed to skip a beat, just for a second. She leaned forward, reality itself seeming to twist around us. I felt another tingle, a stronger one, as her lips kissed my forehead. It was hard, so hard, to keep my mind focused. She couldn’t kiss my forehead without my cooperation and yet … my head span. It was all I could do to remain standing. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t speak.

  She stepped back. Reality shifted, one final time, and snapped back into place.

  My head ached in confusion. What had just happened? I couldn’t quite remember

  …

  “I replenished the translation spell,” Jasmine said. She sounded more … normal now, less of an untouchable goddess. “And I gave you a little protection.”

  My forehead tingled. “What did you do to me?”

  “I gave you a little protection,” Jasmine repeated, patiently. “It won’t last forever, as you don’t have magic yourself, but it’ll give you a chance. I think you’ll be able to withstand one hex, perhaps two, before the protection is rendered useless.”

  “And then someone will be able to turn me into a toad,” I guessed. “Is that likely to happen?”

  Jasmine frowned. “It depends where you go,” she said. “And what you wind up doing.”

  “Ouch.” I tried not to shudder. I’d seen books listing curses and hexes … how many of them were actually real? “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jasmine gave me an odd little smile. “And thank you for riding with me.”

  I took the rucksack and a proffered gift of water and food, the latter little more than hardtack and salt beef. I’d never thought I’d miss MREs, but … I wished, not for the first time, that I’d known I was going to fall into another world. I could have assembled a platoon of army buddies – I knew a bunch of people who’d be up for an adventure – or simply crammed a van with trade goods before driving down that road. Hell, there were people who’d been raised in more traditional communities who had far more useful skills. I wished –

  suddenly – that I’d spent some time on the farm. I’d had a
friend who’d invited me. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  The remainder of the Diddakoi ignored us as we walked to the edge of the convoy.

  They’d finished burying the bodies, leaving the graves covered with sand and soil. It was hard to tell the ground had been disturbed, let alone turned into makeshift graves. A few hours – or days – would see the wind sweeping away what few clues remained. By the time the bodies were discovered, if they ever were, the Diddakoi would be long gone.

  “Don’t wear your pouch too openly,” Jasmine advised. “And be careful what you say or do.”

  I have no friends here, I thought. I’d never been so alone in my life. No one to come to my aid, no one to …

  Jasmine kept talking. “Make sure you keep practicing the language,” she warned.

  “That spell won’t last forever. Once it goes …”

  “I understand,” I said. I’d practiced already – and I had a great deal of experience with foreign languages – but I was going to have to do more. It would be tricky to explain to a sorcerer what I needed if I couldn’t speak his tongue … if, of course, I could find a sorcerer I could trust. I’d heard so many horror stories that I wanted to keep a safe distance from magic users … it didn’t help, I supposed, that I had no idea what a safe distance actually was.

  “I …”

  Jasmine gave me a tight hug. “Take care of yourself,” she said. “And may the gods go with you.”

  I shivered as I returned the hug, then took one last look at the convoy. The Diddakoi had been friendly, but distant. I’d known I would have to decide, sooner or later, if I wanted to become one of them or leave … I hadn’t thought it would come so quickly. The thought churned in my mind as I turned away, readying myself for the walk. It wasn’t going to be easy returning to the city, but I knew I had to be there before dark. The city gates would be closed and locked as soon as night began to fall, leaving me in the open. I had the feeling it would prove hazardous to my health.