Next they bought six beef-and-potato hand pies apiece from the baker’s, wrapped up and ready to stow next to the jerky. They moved on from shop to shop and stand to stand, but Jinn kept a watchful eye out for trouble and tried her utmost to keep their steps and transactions on the same path that she had chosen to foresee. After new boots had been purchased – Quick’s were wearing thin – they refilled their waterskins at the well in the middle of the town, paying the well-keeper for the water and giving him a few coins beside.
“Looks to be a fine day,” said the well-keeper after first biting the coins that had been handed to him.
“Mm,” was all Jinn could think to say in response. It would be a finer day once they had put this town safely behind them. She swore as some water splashed onto her front. It was a warm enough day, she reassured herself; her shirt should dry before nightfall.
The well-keeper seemed to sense her agitation as he said, “Things can’t be that bad.”
Quick laughed in disbelief, and Jinn shot him a warning look. “Dark,” he said. “Night is very dark.”
Smile faltering, the pudgy old man nodded. “Oh, yes. Night can be, erm, very dark indeed.” Perhaps a salesman in a former life, he then asked them if they had been to the candlemaker’s. “They use the finest beeswax, none of that rendered-fat garbage.”
The thought of tallow made Jinn’s stomach turn sour. The cave that she and Quick had lived in most of their lives had been lit only with tallow candles, which they would sometimes eat when Mother forgot to send food. “Beeswax is lovely,” she replied.
“I used to keep bees,” said the man fondly.
Jinn smiled and nodded. “That’s lovely.”
“They’re good creatures. Very gentle…except when they interbreed with wattlewasps.”
Quick’s ears perked up and he nudged Jinn. “Wattlewasps.”
She hushed him. “Yes, wattlewasps. Where is the candlestick maker?” Jinn asked out of politeness.
That brought a large grin to the well-keeper’s face. “Oh, it’s just across from the sweets stand. Birk’s sells the finest candles in all shapes and colors. And the wicks are high quality; they’ll burn for hours.”
Having finished filling their water bladders, Jinn thanked the man, took Quick by the hand, and started to leave. But Quick was having none of that.
“Candles not a bad idea, Jinn.”
Jinn gave him a shrewd look. “You just want sweets from the shop across, don’t you?”
Quick nodded. “Yes.”
For a moment, they stood there, Jinn worrying her lower lip as Quick swung their clasped hands. She had looked down this thread, but hadn’t seen Quick’s request coming, which made her at once uneasy. It wasn’t quite a hole, though, was it?
“We’ll buy you a small package of sweets –” Before her brother could rejoice at his triumph, Jinn squeezed his hand and said, “– but no candles. There just isn’t time or need for them.”
That took the wind out of Quick’s sails. He didn’t exactly pout, but there was a slowness in his step that made Jinn aware of his displeasure.
“You were the one who was worried about the bad man chasing me.”
Quick tightened his grip on her hand. “You see bad man?”
“No,” she admitted and then was quiet about the matter. There was no point in getting him all worked up again. Besides, after the last few weeks they had endured, Quick deserved a treat.
The sweets stand was just closing as they stepped up to it, and it took some convincing to keep it open just five more minutes so they could make their purchase. A little extra money thrown in did the trick, and the confectioner was all smiles and even offered Quick a sample of a new product. Quick liked the treat so much that Jinn gave in and bought a large packet of it. “That will ruin your teeth,” she warned him as they left the stand.
Quick said nothing but gave her cloak a tug. They were standing just feet away from the entrance to the candle shop. “Go inside?”
She groaned. “I told you, we don’t have time.”
“Quick has good feeling about it,” Quick said, his face lighting up like a child’s on its birthday. “Please, sister?”
Jinn couldn’t say why, but the candle shop suddenly sounded like a marvelous idea. Why hadn’t she thought so before? It would seem they weren’t the only ones with the notion: left and right, people were dropping what they were doing and heading for the candlemaker’s. No one pushed, no one shoved. In fact, everyone smiled and was polite, even letting Quick elbow a path through their ranks without reprimanding him.
A cold sweat had formed on the back of Jinn’s neck but she forced away any trepidation she felt as she followed Quick through the iron doorway with four words painted above it: ALL SALES ARE FINAL. The door itself was wood painted black and it shut behind them as if by a gust of wind. Outside the crowd stood, backs pressed against the exit, forming a solid wall.
“Odd,” Jinn muttered. Hating crowds, she moved away from the door and toward a display of soothing oils that made all sorts of ridiculous claims. Bald no more! Regrow a full mane – two sniffs will do! read one bottle. “Sell a lot of these?” Jinn called out. There was no immediate answer, just a calm silence. Fatten up! Slim down! Wake up! Sleep some more! Warts-be-gone! All the bottles were stoppered with cork, but were attached to an iron charm and a prayer printed on parchment to ward off fey. Jinn stiffened. So, magic-haters did dwell this far south. “Quick, maybe we should think about leaving.”
Quick laughed, an unnatural sound. “You worry too much.”
Jinn turned and was about to accuse him of drinking too much small beer, but the edge went out of her anger and she found herself blinking sleepily. She fought against the sensation, only for it to hit her again. I’m worried for naught. The soothing words entered her mind, but their tenor was not her own. Jinn shuddered. She lived in her thoughts more often than in the real world, and she knew what her own voice sounded like. The intrusive thought tried again. All is well. Peace. I am at peace.
Yes, she was at peace…until she realized she was not. They were fleeing this town, desperate to escape the darkness to come. So why did Jinn feel the sudden urge to lie down and sleep?
Something or someone was trying to charm her. It had worked on Quick, that was certain.
Even now her brother was smiling stupidly at the mediocre-looking wax candles that lined the wall. “Pretty,” he said, waving his hand a little too wide and clumsily. A freestanding candle fell from its display and thudded onto the ground.
Jinn looked around for the proprietor. “Quick, we need to leave.”
Behind the counter there sat a wisp of a man with an oiled salt-and-pepper moustache, and wire-rim spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He smiled languidly at Jinn as if he thought it perfectly fine and normal for a giant to crash around his store and knock things over. “Isn’t it a fine day?”
She didn’t bother answering, but grabbed Quick’s hand and gave him a tug. “There’s an enchantment, Quick. I don’t know how or why, but we need to leave.”
Quick smiled down at her. “Sister, all is well.”
The words settled on her shoulders and tried to work their way into her veins, but Jinn was on to the spell now and fought against it in earnest. “Quick, be a dear and look at me. Look into my eyes.”
“Pretty Jinn has blue eyes.”
“Yes, Quick. Look into Jinn’s pretty blue eyes.”
Staggering as one drunk, Quick turned to better face her. “Why so worried? You’re worried for naught.”
“Quick,” she said firmly. “We need to leave. There is danger. Someone is trying to keep us trapped here.”
But her brother wasn’t listening. With a big grin, he ambled away from Jinn and plopped down in front of the door as if he meant to take a long nap.
Panic roiled in Jinn’s veins, and her b
reaths came with increasing difficulty. She closed her eyes. One minute ahead – they remained in the shop and Quick had started to snore. Two minutes ahead – the candlestick maker laid his head down on the counter and began to drool all over his brown wrapping papers. Three minutes, four minutes, five minutes – they all showed the same things: everyone in Jinn’s vicinity was falling unconscious. There was no time to look ahead to ten minutes even; by then goodness knows what else the enchantment would do to Quick and all these poor people.
So Jinn did the first thing that sprang to mind: she screamed. She screamed obscenity after obscenity at Quick, trying to get him to wake up and tell her to stop swearing. But Quick just gurgled and sniggered where he sat, until Jinn’s voice cracked and she lost him again to his dreams. Quick was hard enough to rouse when he was in a normal sleep, but an enchanted sleep? Jinn had no idea what to do. She tried slapping him, once, twice, soft, and hard. Nothing. She shouted in his left ear. Her brother stirred for a moment, before leaning that ear onto his great left shoulder and then falling back asleep. Knowing she couldn’t truly hurt her brother, Jinn ignored the snoring shopkeeper and began throwing candles at Quick. They cracked and crumbled against his chest and thudded onto the floor, but drew no reaction.
Minutes had passed. Jinn could feel the nigh-irresistible call of sleep intensifying. She knew nothing of enchanters. Did they even still exist? But there was no good reason for one to be after her of all people; she was near kin. Lights, but this was difficult. Desperate for an idea, she closed her eyes and was about to peer ahead, when she backed up into a display and heard a few bottles clink together. Again she swore, trying to right herself. The sight of the glass bottles gave her pause. Perhaps if she really tried to hurt her brother, drawing blood even, that might wake him. She shuddered and was about to turn away from the vials in revulsion, but froze and looked at them more carefully.
Love potion! See like an elf! Shrink your feet! Odor-be-gone! Jinn tossed those bottles aside. Catch more fish! Smaller thighs! For people who had special prayers to keep away the fairies, these strange folk had some pretty magical-sounding oils. “Ridiculous,” Jinn snapped at a bottle of Blondes are best! She knew from her reading there was something to be said for the ancient art of oils, and she could have sworn she had seen— “Yes!” She snatched the bottle of Wake up! off its precarious position on the edge of the display and ran to Quick’s side. But when she went to unstopper it, Jinn was hit hard with a vision, which overlaid the images in front of her. Quick stood lost and alone, calling her name. The rest of the vision was darkness. Jinn jumped. The vial shattered unused on the floor.
It took her a moment to realize that Quick was stirring and that she scented the strong odor of greens-baro and tanderine blossoms, plants with potent healing and anti-hex powers. She could have cried in relief, but the vision of imminent doom was not fading, even though it had changed by a degree. “Quick!” she shouted, tugging on his hands with all her might. Her giant of a brother grunted and pulled his hands away, scrubbing his eyes in apparent confusion.
“Why is Quick on floor?”
“I’ll explain later.” She looked out the shop window, where dozens of townsfolk were dozing in their way. Jinn swore. “We need to find a way out. Here, let’s wake the shopkeeper and ask him.”
By now Quick had stumbled to his feet, causing the floor to shake and the boards to creak in an ominous manner. “Should we bring stinking oil?” Even now the aroma was fading, and Quick swayed on his feet. There was no time to rouse the shopkeeper.
Jinn took her brother by the hand and led him behind the counter. The workspace opened into a small backroom where sat vats of oil and wax for dipping. No doors or windows there. She pushed Quick out of the room and led him through the rest of the tiny shop, and in each tiny room, they ran into the same problem: no windows and no doors.
“What wrong?” he asked as Jinn began pacing.
“How are we going to get out of here?” She pointed at the front of the shop. “There is only one door and one window, and half the village must be in the way.”
Quick chuckled. “That easy.”
She frowned, and he grinned.
“We make door.”
* * *
Once Quick had pounded a hole in the back wall, the twins ran through the shop abutting it: a sewing supply store. From the woman behind the counter to the ladies next to the calico, everyone was fast asleep. “Why they so tired?” he asked as Jinn and he pushed their way out of the shop and ran through the back streets.
Even as they fled, Jinn felt a strong need to return to the candle shop and sleep. “There’s some sort of curse. Or spell…or something.” Panting, she handed her sack to Quick; strength was not with her at this moment.
“Bad man,” Quick said after a moment.
They ran to the edge of town in silence, and everywhere they were met with sleeping bodies, still and defenseless. Anyone could storm into town and attack the villagers. Jinn shuddered. Should they stop? Find more oils to wake at least a few people?
“What Jinn doing?” Quick asked as they finally reached the border wall. He cupped his hands together, meaning to give her a step up, but she stood undecided.
“What if he hurts all these people?” she asked. “It would be my fault.”
Quick groaned. “Jinn, bad man not after them.” He jabbed a finger at her chest in emphasis. “He after you.” And with that said, he grabbed Jinn by the back of her trousers and hoisted her up onto the wall, though he could only just reach it with his fingertips.
“All right, all right,” said Jinn, bracing herself so she could help Quick up after her.
But Quick stepped back, got a running start, and threw himself at the wall. The momentum carried him up high enough to get his hands on the ledge, and Jinn helped him the rest of the way over. Panting and cursing, both of them tumbled over onto the other side and into the woods.
Chapter Ten
Jinn
The wind shifted, and the sky darkened. Lightning flashed as Jinn and Quick ran into the bracken, not daring to hesitate lest the enchanter catch up with them. Scratched and sore, they had run three miles when the rain began to fall in earnest.
“We can’t go much farther in this,” Jinn shouted above the roar of thunder. “We need to make a shelter.”
But Quick wouldn’t stop running. Rather, he scooped his sister up by the waist and ran with her another three miles, nearly dropping her five times and knocking her twice against solid oak trees.
Jinn didn’t complain though, she was happy to put more distance between them and the sleeping town, especially since she didn’t have to move under her own power. The previous night’s vision had interrupted her sleep, and her nap in the bathing tub only left her wanting more.
When Quick set her down, they began to scout for a place to settle. Sheltering beneath a tree in a thunderstorm was far from ideal, but the rumblings and flashes of lightning had grown farther off and farther apart, leading Jinn to believe that the worst of it was over. Still, they looked around for the shortest tree they could find, and began to make camp.
It was past midday now and well into the late afternoon, though the sky seemed to say otherwise. Quick ripped a section of bark from a tree twice the thickness of his own girth and leaned it against where they would build the shelter. Jinn directed him several times, while looking for twine in her pack to secure the materials together.
In forty minutes’ time, they had the beginnings of a mediocre shelter but not the energy to finish it. Shivering, the twins crawled beneath the lean-to and huddled together for warmth.
“Remind Quick of the cave,” Quick said, sticking his head out from the shelter.
A tremor went down Jinn’s spine. “Let’s – let’s not talk about home.”
Quick grunted, and she took that to mean he agreed. After a moment he said, “Any food?”
&
nbsp; Jinn suppressed a groan. “Do you think you could hold on a little longer?” The rain had died down to a drizzle, and a fog crept in over the forest floor. She pulled her hood over her head and stared into the haze.
“S’pose.” He fidgeted, jostling the shelter and thus letting in a few extra chilling drops of rain.
The droplets pattered against the crown of Jinn’s head. Not that it mattered; she was already soaked through. “You should get some rest,” she said through a yawn. “We didn’t get proper sleep last night.”
“You slept none.”
“True.” Again she yawned. “Still, I don’t mind taking first watch.”
Of all things, Quick let out a rumbling laugh. “Sister thinks Quick will eat while she sleeps?” Again he laughed.
“I guess I will take a rest.” She blinked against the sleep tugging at her eyelids. “Oh, don’t forget your sweets.”
“Mm,” he said, smacking his lips together. “You want some?” He sounded hesitant, if not entirely unwilling to share.
The laugh slipped out before she could catch it, so she disguised it as a small cry of pain. “Must’ve sat on a bur.”
He let out a deep sigh. “So you don’t want?”
“It’s all yours, Quick.”
* * *
After finding the sweets for Quick and telling him to drink rainwater if he got thirsty – they needed to save their waterskins – Jinn leaned her head against her shoulder and closed her eyes. The constant drip, drip, drip atop her hood was mesmerizing and could have lulled her to sleep had it been a warmer day. As it was, she was shaking in her boots. Jinn tried pulling her cloak closer, but as that was waterlogged, it didn’t do much good. Now the cave that they used to call home didn’t sound so bad.
A loud crunching noise shattered any illusion of peace. Perhaps it had been a mistake, buying the sweets, as Quick was chomping on them with vigor. But they had only bought half a pound, and Quick was a fast eater. Soon the crunching ceased, and Quick began to hum.
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