Divided by Magic

by Rebecca Danese

  "This’ll do," Lou says, interrupting my train of thought. She’s pulled into a narrow avenue and parked in the only available spot. Jer helps me out of the car and we follow her lead to a small old Nissan Micra that looks like it was bought in the nineties. A layer of grime covers the back window, and there are patches of rust here and there; a sure sign that it hasn’t had much love lately.

  "No car alarm, no GPS, and it probably won’t be missed," she explains. "I just need to reach over here," she places a hand on a lamppost and another hand by the lock on the car door. There’s an imperceptible flicker of the light, more like a slight dimming, and the door unlocks itself. She climbs in and unlocks the other doors from inside.

  "Why couldn’t you just channel energy from the car battery?" I ask.

  "Because I don’t want to drain it before we’ve even gotten it started," she explains. That makes sense I guess. Car batteries charge themselves as the car is running, so with an old model like this it could take a tiny sap of energy to drain it before we’ve gotten it on the road. Plus, Lou has to then steal a bit of energy from it just to kick it into action, as the key is nowhere to be found.

  The old car isn’t nearly as comfortable as the plush leather of the Mercedes, but I do feel like we’re invisible, just three young friends on the road in their old battered car driving across town. The suspension doesn’t handle the potholes and bumps in the road as well though, and every jerky movement makes me feel like my leg is going to fall off.

  The fact that we just stole someone’s car does play on my mind though. "Don’t worry, Curtis," Lou says, as if reading my mind. "We’ve probably done them a favour, as now they can get a nice new car on their insurance." She’s got it all figured out, I think to myself. All neatly justified for the greater good.

  It takes an hour and twenty in the little Nissan to my house, and I feel an odd excitement to be reunited with Ella. We’ve only been apart for a few hours, but it feels like it’s been longer.

  Lou wisely drives past the end of my road so that we can keep an eye out for any trouble before we park up outside, and my heart sinks when I spot two police cars parked outside my house.

  "Dammit. We’re going to have to go with Plan B," Lou says, continuing on past the turning, not daring to get any closer.

  "What if Ella’s in there with the police outside?" I ask, distraught.

  "Curtis, you forget that Ella has been an Augur all of her life. You’ve been with us just a week. She knows exactly how to run," she explains. It doesn’t make me feel any better, but I see her point.

  "What do the Augurs do that decide not to run?" I ask.

  "Depends. Some of them hide in plain sight, like the Gregorios and Federicos of the world. Most keep to themselves. Some become addicts and just try to drown out the world around them. We’re all just trying to get on with our lives, just some of us manage better than others," she says.

  "And some of us want to change the fact that we need to run and hide," Jer points out, putting his hand on Lou’s knee as she drives. It’s a simple gesture but one that means a lot even to me. People like them, the other members of the Society, even Ella and Agnes, a small group of what could loosely be called rebels trying to make things better for everyone. Maybe not the Duke though, I think to myself.

  "Does the Duke know what happened?" I ask, trying not to reveal any emotion in the question.

  "I’m not sure, why?" Lou asks.

  "Just curious, I guess," I reply and look out of the window. She seems to know her way around town, as within fifteen minutes we’re off the main road again and in the back streets that look familiar to me. Ella’s neighbourhood, I realise. Lou does the same trick she did with my street, driving down the bottom and looking upwards so that she can continue on past if there’s any sign of trouble, but the road looks clear. She turns right and into it and drives slowly past the neat houses. The lights are on in most of the windows. Tuesday night, everyone safely at home probably making dinner or putting the kids to bed. Lou pulls up outside Ella’s house and motions Jer to get out, as I’m not going to get very far without help. The house is dark except for one light in the front, and I wonder if it’s Agnes’s room.

  "Shouldn’t I be getting out too?" I ask, as if for permission.

  "Best you stay here, Curtis, just in case there’s any trouble," she advises. What kind of trouble could there be in picking my girlfriend up from her house, I wonder? Plenty, when it comes to Ella, I remind myself.

  Jer unfolds himself from the cramped passenger side and I watch him intently through the window from my seat at the back, striding up the path to the front door. He rings the doorbell and waits patiently. I don’t know why, but my palms are sweating again despite the cold, and I feel oddly nervous, worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. No one comes to the door, but he tries the door handle and it opens, which surprises me.

  "That can’t be good," I mutter.

  "It is odd," Lou admits, as Jer turns around to us to give us a signal that he’s going in. The few minutes he’s gone I count in my head, like a timer waiting to go off. When he finally does reappear, I exhale and realise that I’ve been holding my breath. He climbs back into the car and shrugs.

  "Weird. The TV’s on in Agnes’s room as usual, but there’s no one there. It’s like they nipped out for a pint of milk and were planning to come right back. Ella’s room is empty and there’s no Augur signature to speak of, so there hasn’t been any magic in that house for at least a day or two."

  "What do we do now?" I ask, the fear in my chest threatening to rise up and make me hysterical at any moment.

  "Ultimately we need to stick to the plan," Lou replies.

  "And before that," Jer interjects, "we need to get fixed up. Curtis is no good to anyone hobbling around like that, and I look a right mess with only one eye in action." He makes a good point.

  "What hospital is going to take us in without asking questions though?" I ask. Lou laughs, a sort of cackle but it suits her.

  "We ain’t going to a hospital, dummy. They’d be on to us in a second. We’re going to a healer."

  I heard the Duke mention healers before but didn’t think anything of it. Now I realise that these are probably Augurs capable of fixing people up, mending broken legs and so on. I imagine they’re hard to come by, otherwise we’d have them in every doctor’s surgery and emergency room in the country.

  "Honestly, guys, I want to find Ella before we do anything else. My leg can wait," I plead. If this is what I feel like when I know full well that she can look after herself, imagine what’s been going through her head the whole time I’ve been missing.

  "We’re going to fix you up first, Curtis. Ella’s fine, wherever she is. Especially if she’s with Agnes," Lou says and pulls the car out and back onto the road.

  "They’re a formidable team, those sisters," Jer explains, trying to ease my concern. "Really, she’d be more mad at us for not sorting you out before going to find her."

  "Fine, fine," I say, leaning back on the seat and trying not to sulk. "How long will it take to get to a healer?"

  "Mumbe will be able to help us with that," Lou says, looking at me from her rear-view mirror, "and I know exactly where to find him."

  CHAPTER 14

  The building we pull up at forty-five minutes later is a tall red brick town house shrouded in darkness.

  "Looks like no one’s home," I whisper, leaning forward in my seat, although I’m not sure why I’m whispering.

  "Ah, looks can be deceiving," Jer says, hopping out of the car and helping me out of the back. The Nissan is one of those two-door cars where the front passenger seat has to fold down to let the backseat passengers out, which is awkward when your leg has expanded to the size of a balloon. He throws my arm around his neck, and I hobble up to the solid front door, all polished brass and varnished oak.

  There are several apartments in this building, and there are five names to choose from on the panel of doorbells. Lou presses one
confidently, and I listen to hear it ring inside, but there’s nothing. Must be somewhere upstairs, I think to myself and grimace at the thought of having to climb what could be four floors. The doorbell panel serves as an intercom, and I notice a small CCTV camera set into the top of it, and I imagine that somewhere upstairs Mumbe is looking at a small grey screen with our three faces in it, wondering whether or not to let us up. Rather than talk to us through the speaker though, I hear a quiet buzz as the door catch releases. Evidently, he’s made his decision. Lou pushes it open and hurries us inside, making sure it shuts firmly behind Jer as he helps me through.

  The interior is smart; dark wooden panels along the walls, clean carpets in the hall and up the staircase that is almost dead in front of us when we come in. There is one door on the ground floor that has a brass number one nailed to it, recently cleaned.

  "This way," Lou whispers, and guides us up the stairs. I guess that Jer has been here before, so she’s saying it for my benefit. The walk upstairs is awkward to say the least, and I hang onto the banister on my right whilst Jer helps support me on my left. Despite the cleanliness of the place I can’t help but notice how impersonal it all feels. Like none of the neighbours probably speak to each other if they can help it other than perhaps a polite nod in passing.

  We make it all the way up to the top floor, passing another three doors; just my luck that we need the apartment in the attic. The door is opened as we arrive, and the concerned face of Mumbe appears, looking quickly from Lou to Jer to myself.

  "Is David here?" Lou asks without so much as a ‘hello’. He nods and gives us a gesture that indicates we can come in. A man of few words, I’ve noticed.

  A loft apartment with probably only three or four rooms opens out before us. We walk directly into a tidy living room space which would be dark except for the candles lit everywhere. A hatch in the wall leads to a kitchen and I can see the shine of worktops and kitchen appliances from where I stand. There are two doors, one at the far end of the room and another to the right, plus a glass wall to the left that opens out onto a balcony. Everything is cosy and feels right where it should be, the kind of home I’d like to have with Ella one day if things ever get back to normal, although I realise I’m not sure what normal is anymore. The thought of Ella pulls at me, and I must pull a face because Jer gives me a concerned look.

  "You alright?" he asks looking down at my leg.

  "Yeah, sorry. It’s not the leg, it’s Ella. I don’t think I’ve been away from her for more than a few minutes at a time this past week," I sigh. It sounds stupid even to me, but I can’t help it.

  Lou seems to be comfortable no matter where she is, whether at the Duke’s house, in a secret government facility or here, in another person’s flat. She sits herself down in an armchair like she owns the place and Jer sets me down on a long sofa carefully.

  "I’ll get David," Mumbe says, and leaves through the door in the back of the room.

  "We’ll find her, Curtis. I’m like a human bloodhound when it comes to Augurs, so as long as you stick with me we’ll be fine," Jer says, and pats me on the shoulder gently. I smile and try to push the thought of her out of my head for the time being.

  "He doesn’t say much," I nod towards the door that Mumbe has just left through.

  "Comes from being all the wrong kinds of minority in the eyes of everyone else, I guess," Jer shrugs. I’m not sure what he means, but Mumbe comes back in with a man that I can only assume is David. He’s as tidy and well-kept as the apartment is. Nothing is out of place, and his straw coloured hair is combed into a perfect parting. A good-looking guy. He and Mumbe make a nice couple, and I realise that’s what Jer means.

  "God, you are a mess," David says to Jer, who gives him a lopsided grin.

  "Ah, barely a scratch, Dave. Can you mend my friend here first?" he says, gesturing to me.

  "Nice to meet you. I’m David, never ‘Dave’," he says, holding out a hand which I shake whilst he gives Jer a harmless eye roll.

  "Curtis. Thanks for helping us out," I say.

  "All in a day’s work," he says and asks me to hitch up the leg of my jeans whilst he inspects what’s under the Doctor’s bandage. I think of Lingham suddenly and feel a little sorry for her. I hope that whatever I injected her with doesn’t have lasting effects. She was a nice lady when you take all the working-for-the-evil-government out of the situation.

  David unwraps the bandage and I wince when I see the black and blue splotches on my leg, which has clearly swollen. "This is going to feel a little unusual," he warns as his hands put the lightest of pressure on the bruises. At first it feels like a gradual heat running up and down my leg, then like the worst case of pins and needles I’ve ever felt. I make a strange noise, somewhere between a yelp and a cough as I try to hide the sudden outburst. It doesn’t break his concentration, but the corner of his mouth turns up as he attempts to conceal a smile.

  "Don’t move the leg for at least ten minutes," he says and then inspects my cheek, turning my chin so that the light catches it. He tuts and then does a similar thing; a gentle pressure right on the swelling, the heat rising in my face, the feeling of pins and needles as the tissue must be healing itself.

  "Any other ailments?" he asks once finished.

  "He punched me in the stomach, but honestly other than a bit of bruising it’s not worth bothering about," I say, patting my abdomen. It’s still a bit tender, but there are no broken ribs. He nods and turns to Jer, whose eye is almost closed with the swelling that the black eye has brought on.

  "Walk into another lamppost?" David jokes, and Jer laughs.

  "Hey, you should see the other guy," he replies.

  "To be fair, the other guy suffered more at the hands of Lou than you, Jer," I point out. Lou gives her devilish cackle and winks at us. David works his magic, quite literally, on Jer’s face, and a finger that had apparently been broken but that he’d not complained about or even mentioned. The fact that he’d been wandering around all afternoon with a broken finger and hadn’t said anything makes me feel bad for making such a big deal about my leg.

  "It’s going to take a little while for the body to finish repairing itself, so I suggest you stay right where you are for now. Is that everything?" David stands up, hands on hips to assess his work.

  "Would have been a whole lot worse if Lou hadn’t turned up," Jer admits.

  "Typical luck of the Irish," Mumbe adds, speaking for the first time since David came into the room.

  "You can say that again, mate. But now for another matter. If Curtis and I were picked up by these ATU people, then I imagine they’re going to start pointing fingers and arresting anyone who even looks like they might know an Augur."

  "Miss Banks said she arrested me because I was seen going into the Duke’s property," I say.

  "So, London isn’t exactly the safest place for us to be right now," Lou chimes in.

  "We’re not going anywhere," David says, and stands next to Mumbe as if asking for back up.

  "You don’t have to, but I would say it’s the smart move. Our problem is we can’t find Ella or Agnes and we can’t go running around town looking high and low for them either," Lou explains.

  "The last time I saw her she was looking for me outside the press offices in Kensington, just as I was being kidnapped," I say. All four pairs of eyes turn to me inquisitively, and I realise that they have no idea why I would be at a press office in the first place. Is it really my place to even tell them?

  "The Duke asked you to go to the papers?" Lou asks. She tries to make it sound non-threatening but it’s difficult for her to control her voice, I can tell. I didn’t think she of all people would have a problem with it, but maybe the simple action of being asked to do something with that level of responsibility has caught her off guard.

  I run my hand through my hair nervously. Why would the Duke not tell them?

  "He asked me to leak the info on Carlton Munday to try and have him removed from his position. But that was befor
e he was made Acting Prime Minister."

  "That’s pretty big. Why would the Duke ask you to do that?" Jer asks me and I shrug in reply.

  "More importantly, why wouldn’t he get one of us to do that?" Lou asks.

  "All I can say is that when Ella and I went to see him he said that a Normal needed to drop off the stick and Ella was to stay as far away from the office of the newspaper as possible. Of course, she didn’t, she stayed across the road and waited for me, but just as I stepped out I was picked up by that thug, and the rest is history." They look troubled, and I understand why. They don’t want to hear that the Duke wouldn’t trust them with something as simple as dropping off a USB stick, but now that I know what’s on it I can see his logic. The Duke was effectively giving away their private lives, their identities. I doubt he intended for me to even see what was on it, more like a dump and run, and I feel bad for not telling them what I know but I only think it will upset them if I get into it. Besides, I don’t think they were all lucky enough to get a new identity after the facility went under. They simply picked up where they left off and tried to piece their lives back together.

  "There’s something up with that," says David.

  "Too bloody right," Lou says, crossing her arms and looking away.

  "Look, I’m sure that just like with Ella he was trying to protect you guys, to stop you from getting too close to the action," I try to reason. I’m not sure why I’m trying to defend him really, but I don’t like the feeling that I’ve acted as some kind of exterior influence that is secretly pitting them against each other.

  "None of that really matters now," Jer, the voice of reason, comes to my rescue. "The point is we need to find the girls and get the hell out of here as soon as we can." Everyone nods in agreement.

  "Well, we can get some feelers out," David says looking at Mumbe, who nods in reply.

  "I’ll make some calls," he says in answer to my perplexed look that comes from wondering what ‘feelers’ he could possibly put out at this hour. Without another word, Mumbe leaves the room through one of the doors. The one on the left must lead to other rooms, whereas I’m guessing the one on the right is a bathroom or utility room.