by Logan Jacobs
“What the hell happened?” Darwin demanded.
“Brother Anselm is a control mage,” Sorcha explained. “I think he used reaper seed to expand his powers and control the crowd. It was quite impressive, actually, though it will probably leave him drained for the rest of the night.”
“I hate mages,” Darwin muttered.
“I think we should get back to the inn,” I suggested. “I think we’ll be far enough away from the station to be safe from whatever takes place there tonight.”
“Aw, geez,” Darwin exclaimed as he remembered Anselm’s final commands. “All those people are walking into a deathtrap. Can’t we stop them?”
I glanced at Sorcha, who shook her head.
“There’s no way I can control that many people, not without using some reaper seed myself,” Sorcha explained. “And I would have to take a large dose to get to that level of magic quickly enough. That kind of dose could kill me.”
“Then how did Anselm do it?” Darwin asked as he looked around the empty hall.
“He’s probably been taking small amounts all throughout the day,” Sorcha replied. “Slowly building up its effects.”
“I thought you said the Magesterium closely regulates reaper seed use among mages,” I mused.
“It does,” Sorcha noted. “Another reason I don’t believe Anselm has any contact with the Magesterium.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Freya insisted. “This place is giving me the creeps.”
It was rather eerie with everyone else gone. The light from the mage lamps didn’t penetrate all the way to the ceiling, so all I could make out were the dark shapes of the beams and the sound of something skittering across the wood. Many of the chairs had been overturned in the rush to leave and fliers like the one Darwin had shown us were scattered across the floor. The stage was still brightly lit, but I could see dust motes drifting in a breeze from the still open doors, and holes in the curtains. The whole place looked like it had been suddenly abandoned, and as I thought about it, I realized it had.
The sound of someone moving around backstage sent us scurrying toward the doors. We darted outside, but rather than follow the path the crowd had punched through the snow, we ran toward the shadows of an overhanging building where we could linger while we worked out the best way back to the inn.
We’d barely made it to the edge of the building when the first speaker appeared in the meeting hall doors and peered out into the street. He checked the streets carefully, as if to make sure there weren’t any stray believers still hovering nearby, then pulled the doors shut with a resounding thud.
“What the hell was that?” Darwin demanded as we watched the locals walk calmly along the street as if a mob hadn’t just left the meeting hall.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think there’s a lot more going on here than a mage rallying support for the Magesterium.”
“He’s using them just like the businessmen are using the appointed mage,” Sorcha added.
“In the old days, we’d say follow the money,” Darwin replied. “And I say Brother Anselm had plenty of that.”
“So someone’s paying him to stir up trouble for the railroad?” Freya mused. “But why would someone do that?”
“There’s no shortage of other local businesses who are afraid of what the train will do to their income,” the Irishwoman pointed out. “Though I don’t know if there’s enough money there to pull this off.”
“Someone has the money,” Darwin noted. “Though it doesn’t have to be anyone local. I can’t imagine these are the only folks who have tried to restart the rail lines.”
“Maybe your friend will know something,” I suggested. “In the meantime, I’m getting cold and more than a little antsy standing around here. I’d like to get back to the inn and figure out what we do if that mob succeeds in stopping the train tonight.”
“That’s easy,” Freya pointed out. “We leave and make our own way to Willsport.”
“You’re probably right, but so is Hex,” Darwin sighed. “And I’m all for getting out of here as well. Come on, I think I can get us back without having to go past the station.”
The ex-trooper did succeed in getting us back to the inn, though we took a circuitous route that brought us back to the doorstep from the opposite direction of the station. We could see a line of officers at the end of the street, effectively blocking the point where the road ended by the station. I noticed that the officers all wore masks over the lower part of their faces and some sort of clear cover over their eyes, no doubt to protect them from the pink mist that drifted just above the rooftops. Many of the inn’s guests had gathered out front to watch, though the atmosphere was less end-of-the-world in its feel and more like a popular town sporting event. I noticed quite a few of the spectators had beers in their hands, and one man was even taking wagers.
“This is so beyond weird,” Freya noted. “Do they even realize what’s going on?”
“I doubt it,” I replied. “And I don’t think they’d appreciate learning about it, either.”
With that, we ducked back inside the inn, where Emma and Magda were both on duty, though Magda had a strained look on her face. The clerk, at least, seemed to understand the potential dangers of the day’s events, and the smile she tried to give us was strained.
“Oh, hello again,” Magda chirruped as she looked toward our legs.
“Thank you,” I said politely. “Barnaby is upstairs still.”
Magda nodded and tried to smile again, but a loud pop from the station followed by the sound of people wailing caused her to jump. The smile vanished as she cast an anxious eye at the front door, and for a moment, she looked as if she were about to run away into the depths of the inn.
“More tear gas,” Darwin said as he cocked his head.
“Oh, dear,” Magda replied as she fanned herself with her hands.
“Will you be okay?” Sorcha asked as she studied the woman.
“Oh,” Magda uttered in surprise. Clearly, no one else had thought to ask how the desk clerk was holding up. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure this will all be over soon.”
“Soon!” Emma added from her perch. “Biscuits will be soon!”
“If you’re sure…” Sorcha pressed.
“Oh, quite sure,” Magda insisted with another flap of her hands.
Sorcha nodded, which drew another wan smile from Magda. I wasn’t convinced Magda would still be at her desk in the morning, but we all smiled in return and made our way to the stairs.
Darwin turned toward the other end of the floor, and Sorcha started to follow when I tapped her on the shoulder. The Irishwoman stopped and gave me a quizzical look as I gathered my thoughts.
“Do you feel up to answering some questions about Anselm?” I finally asked. “I’d like to know more about what he did and how you were able to break his spell over us.”
“Of course,” Sorcha replied.
Freya snorted, winked at Sorcha, and then gave me one of her smirks. With a twitch of her tail, she started back to the tiny hallway that housed our rooms. I tried to insist that I really did have questions, but Sorcha started to walk away and I had to follow after her or risk getting lost in the maze of rooms and hallways.
Sorcha’s room was down a brick lined hall with an oak floor and a ceiling painted to look like a cloudy sky. The Irish mage opened the door to reveal a room with pale pink walls, a bed covered with dozens of small pillows, and a bouquet of fresh flowers that had to have come either from a mage or a hothouse. Rather than an armoire, the room held a chest of drawers and a small closet, but the writing desk was nearly identical to mine.
“Why so many pillows?” I asked as I studied the collection. Each one had a different needlepoint of a local wildflower, but as lovely as they were, they weren’t really big enough to rest your head on.
“They’re just there to make the room look pretty,” Sorcha laughed. “You aren’t really supposed to use them for anything.”
“Good thing there weren’t any in my room,” I replied. “I can just imagine what Barnaby would do with them.”
“He did try to chew on them while he was here,” Sorcha noted with a coy smile. “We had to have a talk about that.”
The Irish mage pulled out the chair at the desk and waved me into it while she sat on the corner of the bed and pulled off her boots. I watched her for a moment, then reminded myself I was there for a serious purpose. I sat down in the chair and waited for the mage to look up.
“So what did you think of Anselm?” I asked.
“He’s powerful,” Sorcha acknowledged. “And not just because of the reaper seed. He could probably hold two or three people in thrall at a time if he had to. That said, the reaper seed makes him very dangerous, as we saw tonight.”
“If you hadn’t been there, we would have happily joined that crowd,” I noted. “It was weird. I wouldn’t say he was in my head exactly, but I could feel this need to do what he wanted me to do.”
“He’s very clever,” Sorcha agreed. “That’s part of his strength. He’s definitely had Magesterium training at some point. I wonder how he got away. As I can tell you from my personal experience, control mages are usually closely watched by the Magesterium. It’s a rare skill and one they like to keep for themselves.”
“And how did he end up here in Scranton-Barre, urging people to riot?” I added.
“I think Darwin’s right on that count,” the Irishwoman replied. “I think someone is paying him to try to ruin the rail company.”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t accomplish that before we get a chance to ride it,” I sighed. “I’m sort of amazed that so many people this far away from the coasts are set against the train.”
“Remember, part of that is Anselm’s doing,” Sorcha pointed out. “And though we are far enough away from the coasts to avoid too much interference from the Magesterium, this is a large enough city that they’re probably still dependent on the Magesterium and its mages.”
“Like this Hiram Painter, who seems to be at the beck and call of the businessmen,” I mused.
“It’s hard to know how much of the accusations we heard tonight are true, but it is curious that he hasn’t made any effort to stop the railroad,” Sorcha noted. “There could be some truth to the accusations that he’s working more for the businessmen then for the mages.”
“Whoever hired Anselm knows that,” I remarked.
“I suspect the whole town knows that,” the Irish mage laughed. “It seems to be a poorly kept secret.”
“So, tell me how you were able to save us from Brother Anselm,” I teased.
The Irish mage studied me for a moment, then gave me another coy smile.
“It took both of us,” she reminded me. “And I was able to reach you first, despite the presence of Anselm and his magic.”
I nodded as I remembered the flood of emotions I had felt from Sorcha. It had drowned out the desires that Anselm had fed into my brain, especially the fear and concern for my own well being that Sorcha had been feeling.
“That link we have,” I surmised. “You used that somehow to counteract whatever he was doing.”
“I knew I couldn’t keep all three of you there on my own,” she admitted. “I had to have your help to contain Freya and Darwin until I could release Anselm’s power over them. I hope you’re not angry. I know I said I wouldn’t use the link to control you, but it was the only way I could directly interfere with his magic.”
“You did the right thing,” I assured her as I leaned forward and ran a finger along her cheekbone. “I couldn’t have overcome his magic without the link.”
Sorcha leaned in to my finger and closed her eyes for a moment. I felt another surge along our link, though this one was filled with warmth and need.
“I know we’ve only just met,” Sorcha said quietly, “but I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost you now.”
“I’m sure you’d find some way to get back to your island,” I replied primly.
Sorcha opened one eye and studied me closely. I managed to keep a straight face for a few moments, but I finally burst out laughing. Sorcha gave me a playful punch, then suddenly leaned in and pulled me into a long, slow, wet kiss that I fervently wished would never end.
“You can be such an ass sometimes,” the Irish mage declared when we finally came up for air.
“Some people just bring it out in me,” I replied with a wink.
“Just for that I should send you back to your own room and let you spend the night with Barnaby,” Sorcha responded. “I suspect you’ll be sleeping on the floor while the dog enjoys the comforts of the bed.”
“You wouldn’t want me to sleep on the floor,” I protested. “Not when there’s so much room in this bed.”
“I also have a very large bath tub,” Sorcha announced. “Big enough for two people.”
“I’d like to see that,” I chuckled. “We’d have to test it out, see if it really can hold two people.”
“Wait here,” Sorcha commanded as she stood up and sauntered toward the bathroom. “I’ll call you when the bath is ready.”
My erection was already hard, and I nearly hissed in disappointment when the Irish mage vanished into the bathroom and closed the door. Still, I decided I should be ready once she invited me in, so as the sound of running water penetrated the door, I started to strip off my clothing. It turned out to be colder than I’d realized in the room, at least if you didn’t have any clothes on, and I bounced on my feet while I tried not to lose my erection in the chilly air.
At last, the bathroom door opened and a puff of steam filtered out. It smelled like rose petals and maybe thyme, but Sorcha didn’t appear.
“Come here,” Sorcha called out in a sultry voice.
I skipped across the floor and peered around the edge of the door. There was indeed a very large porcelain tub in her bathroom, one that looked like it had been designed to hold about four people. She had filled the tub with steaming water and bubble bath, and the sudsy bubbles threatened to spill over the edge of the tub while others drifted lazily in the air. The mage herself was already in the tub, though all I could see was one long arm along the edge of the tub and her head, the hair already wet and slicked back from her face.
With a loud chuckle, I bounded across the tiled floor and tried not to slip ungracefully into the tub as I clambered in after the mage. Water sloshed over the sides, but then I was in the tub and soaking in the hot water and the rose scented bubble bath while Sorcha’s other hand found my erection and started to stroke along its length.
“I thought we should get cleaned up after spending so much of our day slogging through the mud and dodging dangerous chemicals,” Sorcha explained.
“Mmm,” I agreed as I pressed against her and started to nibble at her neck, then slowly worked my way down toward her nipples.
Now I could smell the jasmine and peach scent that I knew was hers, and I growled as I took in a lungful of the aroma. She squealed as I grabbed one of her breasts in my teeth and gave them a gentle nip, but she wrapped her legs around my waist and tugged me closer. I felt the link between us spark again, and the scent of roses, jasmine and peach was joined by my own scent. I’d never given it much thought before, but through our link I realized it was a clean but musky odor, something that reminded me of pine and sage, as well as the cold air along a mountain ridge.
“I’m burning up,” Sorcha moaned, and I knew it wasn’t just the temperature of the water that was causing so much heat.
I pressed my erection against the edge of her vagina and the blonde mage growled in anticipation. Her whole body was hot and slick, but the heat I felt from her pussy was feverish. My rod throbbed painfully, and as I soaked in the luscious body beneath me, all I could think about was being inside her.
Sorcha grinned as she felt my need, and then she spread her legs as wide as they could go in the tub. I wasn’t entirely convinced we could manage this without a few bruises, but I no longer c
ared. With a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan, I plunged inside the blonde mage and drilled hard against the walls. I felt her muscles clench against me as she pushed herself closer, and then her own ecstasy sparked along my nerves.
I lunged harder and matched my rhythm to the Irishwoman’s pulse. She soon found my pace, and the two of us moved as one. As I rocked, Sorcha rode against me and changed her position just enough to make sure I found the spots that were guaranteed to drive her wild. The link between us was fuel to the fire and as we both reached our breaking points, I couldn’t tell who was who anymore. All I could feel was the overwhelming desire to keep driving into the mage and the mage’s need to feel me inside her body, like one big torrent of sexual desire.
“You are amazing,” Sorcha declared as she tried to meld her body against mine. “I’ve never enjoyed sex so much.”
“I can’t believe anyone would pass this up,” I teased as I held her on the cusp. “If I was a poet, I’d spend the rest of my life trying to find the words to describe this.”
“My cowboy poet,” Sorcha said breathlessly as her body tensed and clasped tighter to my erection.
When Sorcha’s body began to quiver from the mix of tension and desire, I pulled her to me for one last, long drive inside her, then finally released.
“Ohhh,” I gasped as I poured into her, but as soon as I felt like my climax had ended, another spasm shook our bodies, and my cock sprayed a second, third, and forth volley of seed deep inside of her.
“Ohh, Hex. That is so good.” The Irish mage wound her limbs around me so tightly that she didn’t touch the porcelain again until my sac was empty and I slowly lowered her back into the water.
“Amazing,” I panted.
“We don’t seem to have much water left,” Sorcha observed as she traced her fingers lazily along my spine.
“Good thing the floor is tile,” I replied as I peered over the edge of the tub.
“Is it bad?” Sorcha murmured as her fingers began to work their way toward my groin.
“I think we could leave it for now,” I replied as I felt my erection start to spring to life again. Damn, she drove me wild.