by Logan Jacobs
“What are you trying to get rid of anyway?” one of the deputies asked with a nod toward my back.
“Ummm,” I muttered. What, I wondered, would be the least likely thing to warrant any more attention? “Well, I got my girlfriend a gift, but she broke up with me … ”
“Oh, your girlfriend,” the other deputy repeated as he and his partner exchanged smirks. “Well, son, no matter what she may have done to you, trust me, you don’t want to add to your hurt by getting a fine for littering. Now, there’s a garbage can at the end of the path where you can toss away whatever it was you were going to give her, and it won’t get you into any trouble with the law.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I tried to shuffle past them.
The two deputies continued to watch me as I moved toward the garbage can. The problem, I quickly realized, was how to do this without either of them getting a good look at the gun and without drawing any more attention to myself. I tried to casually bring the gun back around to my front as I walked away, and for a moment, I thought I’d done it. I peeked over my shoulder and saw one of the deputies had already started to walk away.
The second one still watched me though, and a frown creased his face as he stared at the silver lump in my hand.
“What is that?” he demanded as he moved toward me. His own hand had moved toward the crossbow he carried on his hip.
“Just … um … ” I stammered. “A gift.”
“It’s him,” the deputy yelled out to his partner as he pulled his crossbow into position. “He’s got the gun!”
Well, damn.
Somehow, the day had just gotten worse.
Chapter 3
The deputy in front of me was still yelling about the gun even as he pointed the crossbow at me. I dove to the side, landed behind a large tree, and dropped the gun in a pile of old leaves.
Shit.
I started to feel around in the leaves and detritus, but the only thing I found that was remotely like a weapon was an old tree limb. The sound of a bolt driving into the oak brought me to my feet again, but I knew there was no way I could outrun anything fired by the crossbow. Then I heard the deputy move toward the tree, so I grabbed the tree limb instead.
The deputy leapt around the tree like we were kids playing tag, but before he could release the next bolt, I swung the limb as hard as I could. There was a crack as the wood smashed into his face, and I wasn’t sure if it came from the man’s nose or the limb as it splintered into fragments.
“I’ve summoned the mages!” the second deputy called out as his partner took a few faltering steps before he collapsed to the ground.
I peered around the edge of the tree and saw the second deputy cautiously approach his partner. He held a glowing cube in his hand, and I smothered the curse word that leapt to my lips. I’d seen something similar at the sheriff’s office back home, though it was rarely used. It wasn’t like our little town had any crime that required magic in order to be solved, and since the average local mage wasn’t much more skilled than Peter or Preston, the sheriff never had much use for it. It didn’t take a genius to realize this wasn’t true in the city, and speedy communication was clearly the order of the day.
I had no idea how much time I had, but if the deputy had used the word gun, I would assume not much. I looked around, but there were no more handy limbs or even decent sized rocks, but I did spot the glint of silver finally. So, the good news was I still had a chance to get rid of it. The bad news was, I may not have enough time unless I could get away from the deputies before the mages arrived.
I snatched up the gun, then burst from behind the tree and simply ran straight at the man with the cube. He looked surprised I would even come at him, and he struggled to pull out his crossbow while he did something with the cube.
Then I crashed into him.
The deputy landed on his back near the edge of the walkway with his head hanging over the river below. The cube bounced out of his hand and rolled down the path.
I didn’t wait to see what would happen next. I shoved the gun into a pocket and then ran back toward the crowds at City Hall. There wasn’t really a good reason to do that, other than some vague idea I might be able to blend in with the sea of faces at the show. Besides, I told myself, the area of the park I’d just left had been poorly lit. Surely the deputies hadn’t gotten that good of a look at me?
I forced myself to stop running as I started to encounter more people. I tried not to pant, though the sweat on my face had to be a dead giveaway I’d just sprinted over from somewhere. No one paid much attention to me though, and I let myself be pulled along with the crowd while I tried to come up with yet another plan.
And it had to be a good one because I was quickly running out of both time and ideas.
Maybe I could try the tunnel again. If the deputy had summoned everyone to the walk, then surely some of those conducting the searches at the tunnel would respond to his call? I had a good horse, too. It would be easy enough to barrel past the guards and through the tunnel to the other side. I could toss the gun as soon as I was through. It was beyond crazy, but I was desperate and scared, and all I needed was one thing to go my way.
Convinced I finally had a plan that would work, I took a deep breath and started to work my way through the crowds at City Hall. This turned out to be a chore, and as I pushed myself through the mass of people, I vowed to avoid all large cities forever if I could just make it out of this one.
As I neared the far edge of the crowd, I spotted several deputies on patrol. I was ready to start running again, but as I watched them, I realized they were there for crowd control, not a gun-toting maniac who had already shot one man with a gun and bashed a deputy in the face with a tree branch. Just to be safe, I joined a pack of teenagers as they left the park and stuck close to them until I was out of sight of the park. Then I cut back toward the pens as I dodged past cabs and pedestrians at a run.
I came to a halt not far from the corrals. Gas lamps kept the area well lit, even at night, but it was still early in the evening so there were still quite a few people around. Most looked like drovers ready to head out for the night, and I spotted Gibson’s security crew as they lounged near the pens. I started to walk toward the stables, but a hand grabbed my arm.
“There are deputies and a mage on the way,” a woman’s voice warned me in a soft lilt. “They will be here before you have a chance to saddle your horse.”
I spun around and found myself staring at one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Her golden hair glittered in the lamplight as it poured over her shoulders, she had wide green eyes that watched me from a sculpted face, and her full lips parted just a hair as she stared into my eyes. Unlike most of the women I’d seen in the city, she wore a simple dark blue blouse beneath a gray jacket and a pair of brown pants. The plain garb only emphasized her natural beauty, though, and I found myself momentarily mesmerized.
“Please,” she begged quietly. “I know you have no reason to believe in or to trust me, but whatever your plan is, you can’t do it. The deputy told them you looked like a drover and that you ran back toward City Hall. They’ve guessed you have a horse here, and they’ve sent people to watch for your return.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied as I tried to ignore the lovely sound of her soft voice.
“You’re the gun mage,” she hissed under her breath. “You triggered your power when you picked up the gun at the museum, and every searcher worth his salt felt it. The search picked up steam when you used the gun, and now everyone is out looking for you.”
“Including you?” I asked suspiciously. I didn’t mean to snap at the beautiful woman, but alarm bells were sounding in my head, and the need to escape had taken over everything.
The woman nodded, then stepped closer as a couple walked by.
“Our searcher was one of those who felt you hold the gun,” she explained. “I was sent here to bring you to safety before the Magesterium can find you.
”
“Who are you?” I demanded. “And why would you want to do that?”
“I’ll answer all your questions,” she replied, “but not here. I have a safe place where we can wait for our portal mage’s arrival.”
I was all set to tell her I would prefer to find my own safe place, but I felt her stiffen as she glanced past me, so I looked over my shoulder and saw a mage and several deputies arrive at the corrals. The deputies spread out in a search pattern, and some headed toward the bunkhouse while two more started toward the stables. The rest wandered among the pens and peered into the faces of everyone they encountered. The mage stopped near the center of the area and peered around. I could swear he was sniffing the air, like a cat testing the air for the scent of its prey.
“It won’t take him long to find you,” the blonde whispered in an urgent tone, “even with all the magic around.”
The woman tugged on my arm and gave me a pleading look. I looked back at the mage, who now stood stock still and looked in our direction. My options had just narrowed down to one, and she tugged on my arm.
“I’m all yours,” I told her as another couple walked by.
I had no idea if I could trust this woman, or whether this option was really my only one, but the one thing that was clear was that I needed to get away from here. If worse came to worse, I could abandon her before we met up with this portal mage of hers and find my own way off the island.
The blonde looped her arm through mine, then led me away from the corrals. We made our way a few blocks east to a busy intersection packed with revelers, restaurants, and every imaginable form of entertainment. We picked our way through the throngs of people and ended up outside one of the old buildings, a strange circular place that occupied several blocks. Part of it was still in use, and people streamed inside to see the latest show, but my guide led me past the brightly lit entrances to the far side of the building.
It was less busy along the stretch where we were, and it was obvious even in the little bit of light that this part of the structure hadn’t been rebuilt. Crumbling walls still left bits of brick and concrete on the ground, and a hefty padlock had been placed on the doors.
My guide led me around the edge of the building, into a narrow space between two walls.
“It’s just up here,” she said quietly as I tried not to stumble over the junk that littered the ground.
“What’s just up here?” I asked as I stubbed my toe on a lump of metal.
“The entrance,” she replied.
“To what?” I pressed.
“A safe place,” she said.
She suddenly stopped, and I nearly plowed into her. Then she knocked twice on what sounded like a piece of metal. There was a moment of silence, and then a mage light blinked on for a moment. My companion waited patiently while the light went through a rapid succession of colors, then it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. A moment later, I heard gears grind against a track, and the metal slab slowly opened.
My guide stepped inside without hesitation, then turned around and looked at me when I didn’t follow. She cocked her head to one side and raised one eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t I at least know your name first?” I asked as I poked my head around the door and peered into the space. It looked like another tunnel, one that led into the bowels of the circular building.
“Sorcha,” she replied. “Sorcha Callan. And you?”
“Hector Theriot,” I said, “but most people call me Hex.”
“Why?” she asked with a curious frown.
“Kids I knew growing up gave me that nickname,” I said as I peered into the tunnel. “Guess it just stuck.”
After a moment, Sorcha held out her hand, an invitation to enter the tunnel.
I frowned, then looked back toward the street.
This was it, I realized. I could step through this door and follow this beautiful woman into a different life, or I could stay here and take my chances with the local authorities, who at the very least would arrest me and “lose” me in the deepest, darkest cell they could find.
“You said you had a portal mage working for you,” I mentioned as I turned my gaze back to the blonde.
“Garth,” she replied. “Please, I promise he’ll be here soon. We’ll be able to move you then, somewhere the Magesterium can’t find you.”
“Is there such a place?” I scoffed.
“There is,” she assured me, “and if you come with me, you can see it for yourself.”
I glanced toward the street again and made my decision. There wasn’t a life here I wanted to come back to, one where I would be hunted because of my magic.
So, if this mysterious woman could provide me with an alternative, then I would take it.
I stepped through the door and nodded to the woman. The door started to rumble closed, and I glanced back, since it was my last chance to stay in my old life.
“Don’t worry,” she noted with a smile. “It will open automatically if you decide to leave.”
“So, where are we?” I asked as she moved forward. The tunnel twisted gently downwards, which made it impossible to see too far ahead.
“You probably guessed the building was one of the pre-magic ones,” Sorcha answered. “It was called an arena, and it was used for all sorts of events. When the city decided to rebuild it, they only did the main hall. This section was part of a vast underground network used to move everything around in the original structures, but the city decided not to use them.”
“So, why didn’t they tear it down?” I asked as I tried not to look nervous. I patted the gun, just to make sure it was still there and that it was easy to get to if the woman’s friends turned out to be less friendly than promised.
“It would cost too much,” she shrugged, “but every so often, someone creates a plan to reuse the rest of the structure. So, the city holds out, hoping someone will finally find a good use for the building.”
“In the meantime, you and Garth just hang out here?” I questioned.
“Not Garth,” Sorcha replied with a straight face, though I could see the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “He’s only coming here to help with your escape.”
“So, is this like a big honor or something?” I teased as I glanced back up the ramp.
“Or something,” she agreed before she caught my glance toward the door and gave my arm a gentle squeeze.
I nodded and tried to smile, but my nerves were still on edge. Then I realized the tunnel had leveled off, and we were in a vast room. I could hear water dripping somewhere and the hum of voices. There was a soft yellow light near what I judged to be the center of the space, but it was hard to be sure with all the oddities that filled the room.
“What is all this?” I wondered aloud as we picked our way past colorful statues, giant signs, a red sleigh covered in dust, giant balls painted with polka dots, and large black boxes with an odd funnel embedded on one side.
“It’s all from the pre-magic days,” Sorcha explained. “It was used during some of the shows.”
“Must have been some interesting shows,” I remarked.
“Sha, is that you?” a man’s voice called out.
“It is,” she replied as we reached the last row of artifacts and stepped into the light.
A table had been set up in a cleared out space, and two men sat in a pair of rickety chairs as they sipped coffee so strong I felt a buzz just from the smell. Both were old enough to have seen the pre-magic world, which probably explained why they had one of the boxes with a funnel sitting on the table between them. A collection of wires trailed behind it and left a jumbled mess on the floor.
“So, this is the one,” the shorter of the two men announced. His pale, freckled skin was still mostly smooth, but his beard was white, and the lines at the corners of his eyes were deep.
“Hex Theriot,” I offered as I stepped forward.
What the hell, I figured. Might as well at least go for the calm routine. I might even s
tart to believe it myself.
The taller man stood up to shake my hand, and I realized the shorter man was probably close to my height, but we both looked like children next to the dark-skinned fellow. He had a solemn air, and he held my hand for several seconds while he peered at me.
“I’ll make some tea,” Sorcha offered. “It looks like there’s some coffee left, Hex, if you would prefer that.”
“Coffee would be good,” I admitted as the tall man waved me into an empty chair.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone named Hex before,” the man with the white beard declared.
“It’s short for Hector,” I explained as I sat down.
“Hmmm,” the man mused. “Well, I’m Arthur, and my friend here is Bunda. I have to say, you caused quite a stir when you picked up that gun.”
“So, you knew about it?” I asked. “As soon as I touched the gun?”
“The searchers did,” Arthur explained. “The best ones can detect every mage as soon as they discover their power, but yours is so unusual that even the blind bat the locals use was able to sense you and your magic. After that, it was just a scramble to see who would find you first.”
“That mage at the stables,” I realized as my stomach clenched, “he was looking for magic.”
“Farrell,” Sorcha sniffed as she placed a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of me before returning to the darkness.
“He’s good,” Arthur acknowledged. “He’s not a searcher in the sense that he can sense a specific mage when he or she comes online, so to speak, but he can sense magic and differentiate between the different kinds. Being the only one with your … gunslinger ability around, you would have been easy to pick out.”
“What does that mean?” I asked with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word before.
“Gunslinger?” Arthur clarified. “It’s a term from the Old West. It was used to describe someone who was good with a gun.”