by Hanna Peach
“Alyx,” Israel hissed.
She turned her head to see Israel holding open a store door. She sprinted for it and tumbled inside the dark shop. He shut and locked the door behind him and dived after her.
She crouched behind a display cabinet, eyes peering through the dimness, so focused on the glass store window she barely registered what shop they were hiding in.
She tensed, holding her breath as the pursuers ran past the window, all wearing black leather and swords on their hips. One of them slowed. No, don’t slow. Keep going. He walked closer to the store window to peer in. She ducked her head further down behind the cabinet and found herself pressing closer into Israel.
“It’ll be okay,” she heard him whisper.
She chewed her lip, praying that this curious one would just keep moving. The door rattled. She almost let out a cry but swallowed it just in time. Her fingers dug into Israel’s arm and she felt his hand slide over hers. I’m not alone. His touch unlatched something in her and she was able to release her breath slowly. It would be okay. Israel was here with her.
The door stopped clattering. There was a moment when she couldn’t hear anything at the door. Then there was the sound of footsteps walking away. She gathered enough nerve to peer up over the cabinet. She couldn’t see anyone through the glass.
She ducked her head back down. “Do you think they’re all gone?”
“I can’t hear anyone outside, but…I think we should stay here for a few more minutes, just in case.”
She let out a long breath of relief and sank against the cabinet, trying to let her heart come back down to a normal pace. They were safe. For now.
“Alyx?”
She looked over to him, her breath hitching a little when she realized how close their faces were. They were sharing the same air as they huddled together in this dark store.
“Do you believe what the Elder said?”
“You were bonded…like you are bonded now.”
“About what?” she said, knowing full well what he meant.
“About…us. That we meant something to each other. Once.”
How was she supposed to answer his question? That she did feel…something unexplainable. That his presence woke something inside her like a phoenix, long buried in ashes but not forgotten, not willing to die. Was she expected to bare these things she felt, these things that even she didn’t understand? To expose herself to him? To give him the power, the weapons, to get past her walls and cut her where she was weakest? How was she supposed to answer him?
She licked her lips, trying to buy herself some time. His eyes fell to her mouth and she felt her world tilting. “Maybe if we…” He started forward then stopped, pausing, his eyes darting up to hers, searching, asking. “Maybe we’d feel something, remember something, if we…” His eyes fell to her lips again and in a mutinous response, they parted for him.
Oh God. He was going to kiss her. Her heart became a hummingbird with violent wings. He was going to kiss her. And she couldn’t move…
“There you are,” came a deep male voice behind them.
She spun around, leaping to her feet, her sword in her hand before she knew she had unsheathed it, half thankful, half furious at the interruption.
A man stood in the midst of a jumble of hangers and materials.
“Who are you?” Israel demanded from her side, his own sword drawn.
“I am Francois, at your service.” The man dipped into a low bow with a flourish. He straightened and raised an eyebrow at the weapons still pointed towards him. “Come now. You can put those hideous things away. I am no harm to you.”
“How do we know that you don’t have any weapons hidden on you?”
He snatched something from a puffy pad strapped onto his forearm and held it up. “The sharpest thing I wield is this.” Neither Alyx nor Israel moved. Francois sighed. “It’s a needle to sew clothes.”
Now that she looked closer she didn’t think he looked dangerous. He had a slim build and was wearing a tailored jacket with coattails and slim-fitting cream riding trousers. His dark eyes sparkled with fervor over a large, regal-looking nose, his long, dark hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
Now that she had a moment, she took in their surroundings. Rolls of different types of cloth were shelved across the walls, interspersed by hanging zips, fringing and lace and clear drawers filled with colored buttons like candies. Scattered about the place were mannequins wearing various dresses, all with sequined and feathered masks across their faces as if they were going to some kind of ball. Or ceremony… Entwinement.
She blinked in confusion. What was entwinement?
“Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Israel said to Francois, breaking through her thoughts, “I’ll keep my sword handy. We’ll be out of here soon and won’t bother you anymore.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “I’ve been expecting you both.”
“You have?” Alyx and Israel said together.
“Indeed. I have your uniforms ready for you to wear.”
“To wear?” She frowned and looked down at her black pants, shirt and jacket. They were dirty and scuffed at her knees and elbows. They weren’t exactly made for sword fighting and running through strange dream-cities.
“I worked tirelessly on them. For hours and hours. I used only the best materials. ” Francois’s speech sped up until his words were tumbling over each other. “They’re masterpieces. Masterpieces. Built to perfection and to specification. And you won’t even try them on?”
“Alright, okay.” She glanced over to Israel. “I guess we could try them on?”
“Yeah, sure,” Israel said, but his sword arm didn’t relax.
Francois’s distressed features dissolved into a beaming smile. “Excellent. Right in here.”
Francois walked to the back of the store and held the curtains aside. Alyx couldn’t see much from this angle but it looked to be a large dressing room.
“If this is a trap,” Israel waved the tip of his sword towards Francois’s nose, “you’ll be sorry.”
“Francois only deals in clothes, not traps, I assure you.”
Alyx entered the dressing room, a large room big enough to fit at least twenty standing people, the walls crammed with framed mirrors in all sorts of sizes, a bench running along opposite walls and a regal-looking gold and purple satin chair in one corner.
Francois pointed to a pile of folded black clothes laid out on the bench, boots underneath, and a jacket hanging from a hook. “Those are yours, Madame Alyx. And those are yours, Monsieur Israel.” There were a similar pile of clothes on the other bench along with boots and another jacket.
“I’ll just give you some privacy while you change.” Francois closed the curtain behind Israel.
Change? Both of them? In here? Together?
Alyx sheathed her sword, walked over to her pile and studied the folded items: a black shirt and black pants. She fingered the black leather jacket. It was lighter than it looked. There were thin strips of a strong yet flexible metal sown into the fabric of the forearms and the collar and across the front of the double-breasted jacket, almost like a kind of built-in shield.
She glanced over at Israel, and her tongue caught in the back of her throat. He was standing there shirtless, his golden torso, firm chest and six pack on display. Holy hell. Her body began to simmer from the inside, like a small fire had been lit in her lower belly. She couldn’t stop herself from tracing every firm bulge with her eyes, her fingers itching to follow the same route. Daniel didn’t look like that. And Daniel didn’t make her feel like this when he was half naked in front of her.
Israel zipped up his dark pants and glanced up, catching her gaze.
Oh my God, Alyx, shut your mouth, you’re drooling.
She clamped her lips together and tore her eyes away from him. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed, forcing herself to remain staring at the thick dark carpet. In the corner of her eye she could see his half naked figure movi
ng as he continued to change, teasing her, taunting her. Don’t look, dammit, Alyx. Don’t you dare look again.
“You act like you’ve never seen a man undress before.”
“I,” she spluttered, “I barely know you. You can’t just drop your pants in front of me.”
“You don’t have to look if it makes you too hot and bothered.”
“I am not hot and bothered.”
“Do you want to help me do up my buttons?”
“I— You—” she spluttered.
He laughed, a warm and rich sound. “Relax. I was only kidding. I’m dressed now.”
Her gaze drew back to him before she could stop herself. He was fully dressed now in his black uniform. It fit him perfectly. And damn him, he looked good, the dark pants snug across his strong thighs and his slim hips, the jacket emphasizing his broad shoulders, the ends of his hair curling over the high collar. It was tough yet regal. And ridiculously sexy.
He shot her a half-grin which, to her annoyance, made her knees tremble. “Like it?”
“It does…fit you.”
“I wasn’t talking about the uniform.”
Alyx sniffed, trying to ignore all these inappropriate feelings. “I guess some girls might find you…appealing.”
“Are you some girls?”
“No.”
“Could have fooled me.” He raised a dark eyebrow and it disappeared into the mess of hair sweeping across his forehead, the mess that was so frustrating she wanted to sweep it aside. “Are you going to change?”
“I’m hardly going to change in front of you. What kind of girl do you take me for?”
“You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.”
Alyx made a noise in her throat as she snatched the jacket to her chest in indignation. “You have not seen anything of me before.”
“I’m just saying. I’ve been around enough girls before that it’s no big deal.” She felt a stab in her belly. What girls? How many girls? Did he actually like those girls?
Did he like her?
Gods, why did she care if he liked her?
“I’ll turn around if you’re really such a prude.” Israel made a show of facing the other wall, his back to her. He stood with his weight on one leg, his hands in his pockets. It made the material cling to his muscular ass. Jesus, Alyx, stop being such an ogling freak.
She narrowed her eyes at his back. “You better not peek.”
“I promise you, I can be a perfect gentleman. When I want to be.”
Alyx shimmied out of her clothes and slid on the black pants and shirt. It was stretchy and thick yet light, and there were more sections across the thigh and calf of the pants where that thin, lightweight metal had been sown in. She glanced over at Israel. He was still standing there with his back to her. He didn’t look like he was peeking. But he was humming something, his hips swaying slightly, like a pendulum. It was mesmerizing.
Snap out of it, Alyx.
She tore her eyes away from him and pushed her feet into the boots, a perfect fit. Wait… She knew that song: “You Can Leave Your Hat On.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Humming that song.”
“I thought you’d appreciate it.”
She glared at him. “Are you always this annoying?”
“I think the word you’re looking for is charming.”
She shook her head and hid a smile as she did up her boot laces. He was infuriating.
She slid the jacket on. It felt warm and comfortingly strong yet lightweight and it had a faint leather smell to it. “You can turn around now.” Finally she buckled her sword sheath back around her hips.
She looked up and caught Israel staring at her. “What?”
“Wow. You look…deadly.”
“Deadly?”
“Badass.”
She snorted. “Why do I never quite know whether you’re giving me a compliment or not?”
“I happen to think badass is sexy. Especially on you.”
Alyx fussed with her jacket as she tried to hide her flaming cheeks. “Um, thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He grinned wider.
“What?”
“I think I’m growing on you.”
“You are not growing on me.”
He raised his hands so that his thumb and forefinger were about in inch away from each other and nodded. “Just a little bit. Go on, admit it.”
“I admit nothing.”
“I take that as a full admission.”
Alyx rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”
They exited the dressing room to Francois cooing and ahhing as he fussed about them both, tugging at hems and flicking invisible lint of their shoulders.
“Thanks, Francois,” Israel said. “Sorry about the threatening you with swords thing earlier.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”
“Before we go,” Alyx said, “we were wondering if you could help us with some directions.”
“Certainly.”
“We need to know where the Mapmaker’s store is.”
“Why,” he said, clasping his hands together before he pointed out the front window, “it’s just across the road.”
“Across the road?” exclaimed Alyx. “No, it’s—” she trailed off when she saw through the store window a large golden sign decorated with a brass compass entwined with a globe that read Mapmaker.
That definitely had not been there before.
Chapter 7
There didn’t appear to be anyone in the street. At least, not for now. Israel slipped out of Francois’s shop and strode with light feet across to the Mapmaker’s store, his hands holding to the hilt of his sword, Alyx close behind him.
It was strange enough that this store just appeared without warning. Blood-red curtains had been drawn across the windows so that he couldn’t see in. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. What would they find inside? And who was this mysterious Mapmaker?
He reached the door and froze. He grabbed Alyx’s arm and placed his finger to his lips, telling her to keep quiet. She frowned. He pointed to the door of the Mapmaker’s store. It was cracked open.
With one hand holding his sword handle, he toed open the door so it swung open wide. The warm air from inside hit him in the face, and under the smell of must and paper there was a faint metallic smell he couldn’t place. There were no lights on so at first all he could see were irregularly shaped shadows. He stepped into the dimness, letting his eyes adjust, cringing slightly when his first step caused the floorboard to creak.
This place was a mess: a jumble of wooden bookcases and flat display tables, some of them toppled over. Drawers had been pulled out and contents dumped in piles, and half-rolled-up maps were scattered on the floor. Metal compasses, binoculars and other metal instruments on the shelves had been knocked over.
“What happened here?” Alyx whispered from behind him.
There was movement and a noise from the back.
“Hello?” Israel called. “Mapmaker?”
Something moved from the shadows and a large figure in a hood stepped out from a short corridor. “Who are you?” his voice boomed out, deep and stern.
“I’m Israel and this is Alyx.”
“What do you want?”
“Are you the Mapmaker?”
“Of course I am.”
“We need your help.”
“Help?” The Mapmaker snorted. “I can’t even help myself.”
“What happened here?” Alyx said.
“What does it look like happened?” he said, his voice laced with bitterness. “I just got here and found the place like this.”
Israel glanced around. Someone or several someones had ransacked the place. Was this a random break-in? He noticed the cash register tipped on its side; coins and paper money were scattered around it. His skin prickled. This hadn’t been a robbery. The thieves had been looking for something. He turned back to the Mapmaker.
“They weren’t here for the money. What did they take?”
“The only thing of any real value. They took my globe. It’s not where it should be.”
Israel squinted. The Mapmaker’s hooded face was still swathed in shadows. He would feel better if he could just see the Mapmaker’s face. He had learned as a police officer that you could tell a lot about a person from their eyes. “What did you two want again?”
“A map of this city,” Israel said. “We need to find our way out through the mountain in the north.”
“Do you have gold to pay for the map?”
“Gold?” Israel looked over at Alyx. She shook her head.
The Mapmaker made a noise under his hood. “I’m sorry but I don’t run a charity here. As you can see, I’ve already lost a lot today just in damages. Some of the items in here are irreplaceable.”
“But we need that map.” Alyx’s voice came out strained.
Israel placed a hand on her arm to comfort her. “We’ll figure something out.” But what? How would they buy the map they needed with no gold? They needed to get some gold. Maybe there was a jeweler’s or something around here. He could put his…particular talents to use then.
“Is there anything we could give you instead?” she asked the Mapmaker. “Something else that you want besides gold? We could help you clean up.”
“No. But I will make you a deal.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a papyrus scroll. “Whoever took my globe left this in its place.” He held it out.
Israel stepped forward and took it, noticing that the Mapmaker wore black leather gloves under his long-sleeved hooded jacket.
“What is it?” Alyx asked. Israel felt her presence at his side.
Israel unrolled the scroll. “It’s some kind of riddle.
In a place of memories old,
Of distant lands and lessons told,
With stiff spines and arms fold’d,
That can be borrow’d but nev’r sold.
There ’neath the spiral stars of gold,
Lies a world within a globe.”
He frowned as he read the riddle over again in his head. “What does it mean?”
