by Logan Jacobs
Sorcha gave up and left me by one of the windows while she went in search of food. She reappeared several minutes later with some hand pies, a paper sack filled with crispy potatoes, and a cup of tea for herself and a cup of coffee for me. We sat down on a ledge in front of one of the windows and watched the lights of the city start to come on.
“I don’t care what they said in the museum,” I finally declared after I’d eaten half of my pie, “I think those things could fly across an ocean.”
“I wonder what it was like to ride in one,” Sorcha mused. “It must have been very cold, like when you climb a mountain and it’s always so cold near the top.”
“I think they could control the temperature,” I replied. “I don’t know how, but I think you could just wear your regular clothes.”
Sorcha laughed, but she didn’t disagree with me either. When we’d polished off the last of the potatoes and finished our drinks, Sorcha directed me to one of the stores.
“How much money do you have left?” she asked.
“Most of what I came to the city with,” I admitted. “There wasn’t much of a chance to spend it.”
“We can pick up some supplies, then,” she suggested. “And there’s a place where we can get a room for the night in the next concourse.”
“I guess you aren’t too keen about camping next to the road,” I teased.
“And miss out on the glamor of Liberty Mall?” she laughed.
We found some jerky and some nut mix to add to our supplies, as well as some firesticks that were guaranteed to work even in pouring rain. I paid the bill, then peered inside my money pouch.
“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as much as I thought,” I murmured as we stepped back into the concourse. “We may have to camp, after all.”
“Well, I hate to not pay people, but we really need some clean clothes,” she replied. “We’re drawing quite a few looks, and I can’t make all of them forget us. I’ll take care of this next one.”
“We’ll be fine,” I insisted. “Besides, whatever we pick up will just get dirty anyway.”
Sorcha rolled her eyes and then pulled me into another store, one that promised the latest fashions in every size. She picked up a new pouch which she filled with clean clothes for both of us, then walked up to the clerk when no one else was in the store.
“Have you found everything you need?” the clerk asked brightly. The clerk was sixteen if she was a day, and she set down the romance novel she had been reading as soon as Sorcha appeared at the cash register.
“We did,” Sorcha agreed in her magical voice. “And we’ve already paid.”
“Do you need a receipt?” the clerk asked. “For returns?”
“No, no receipts,” Sorcha said with a smile. “We’ll let you return to your novel and you’ll forget we were here.”
The clerk nodded and picked up the book again while Sorcha and I left the store. Sorcha sorted through the clothes and then handed a set to me.
“Go change,” she instructed as she made her way toward the women’s restroom.
I shrugged, though Sorcha had already turned her back on me, and I strolled over to the nearby men’s room.
Though I’d griped about the clothes, it did feel good to strip off the dirt and blood encrusted clothing we’d been wearing. I even managed to scrub off most of the day’s dirt, so I was nice and clean myself when I slipped on the forest green shirt and the denim pants. I tossed the old clothes into my satchel and wondered if the wonders of Liberty Mall included a place to do laundry.
I spotted Sorcha in yet another store as I stepped from the men’s room, and I stopped for a moment to drink in the sight. She had cleaned up as well, and she glowed in the soft mage light that lit the store. Her thick, golden hair hung in waves around her shoulders and created a halo effect around her head that only emphasized her high cheekbones and the perfect oval of her face. Her green eyes reminded me of grass on a summer’s day, and for a moment, I could have sworn I smelled freshly mown grass and a field of wildflowers. The pale yellow shirt and denim pants she’d changed into emphasized the luscious curves of her body without putting everything on full display. In short, she was a sight to behold, and I was more than happy to stand there and enjoy it.
I wasn’t alone in that sentiment either. Everyone who went by stole a glance at her, yet she remained oblivious to their stares. After drinking in the sight for several moments, I shook myself from my dream state and started toward her. Somehow, she seemed to sense my presence. She looked up from the book she held and scanned the area like someone who has heard their name yelled out in a crowded area. When she saw me, she gave me a smile that made me ache to hold her again. I nearly ran into the store, just to get close to her.
“Don’t we have enough books?” I teased when I sidled up next to her.
“You can never have enough books,” she declared. “But I think you’ll like this one.”
“Cities of New Jersey,” I read aloud as she showed me the book cover.
“It has street maps for the cities in New Jersey,” she explained. “Including Morristown.”
“How old is it?” I asked as she flipped to the page for Morristown.
“The clerk says these are reprints of old books that the owner found,” Sorcha mused. “People like to collect them, for some reason. The originals were all printed in nineteen ninety-six, so ages ago.”
“So the roads might have changed between then and the meteorite,” I pointed out.
“True,” she agreed, “but it does match with the atlas Evan gave us, so all the major roads seem to be the same.”
“Fine,” I laughed. “Let’s get it. Then maybe we can investigate this hotel.”
Sorcha smiled again and sauntered over to the register. While she and the cashier discussed other pre-magic replicas that the store carried, and Sorcha quietly worked her magic, I stepped back into the concourse. I found a spot near one of the windows where I could keep an eye on Sorcha and leaned back against a pillar to watch the shoppers as they moved from store to store.
Sorcha had finally finished her business in the replica store when I noticed a shift among the other shoppers. People started to whisper, and a few looked back over their shoulders. Several people scurried down the concourse as quickly as they could, so I bolted toward the replica store and snatched Sorcha’s hand just as she stepped into the concourse.
“What--” she started to ask.
“I’m not sure, but everyone coming from that other building looks unhappy,” I replied as I started to look for an exit. “And it’s gotten rather quiet. I only know one thing that can cause a reaction like that.”
“Red robes,” Sorcha hissed as she glanced over her shoulder.
“This way,” I said as I saw a mall employee duck through a service door tucked behind a plant.
It was hard to believe that in a hall filled with doors, it was almost impossible to find one that still worked or wasn’t alarmed. Most of the doors that had been used to load the flying machines had long since been sealed, and those that were still open led to flying machines that had been converted to dining establishments. The service door was our best option, and judging by the level of panic from our fellow shoppers, possibly our only option.
The service door led into a narrow hallway with a glass wall on one side and plain concrete on the other. The floor was covered with a hard, black material that reminded me of some of the plastic on display at the museum. Flat, round shapes had been molded into the flooring for some reason, but I didn’t have time to contemplate yet another oddity of the pre-magic world.
We followed the narrow hallway to a juncture point where several service hallways met. Mall employees moved up and down the hallways, intent on their own business. There was also a pair of stairs that led down to a lower level. There was only one small light down below, and it was hard to see anything that might be hiding in the darkness.
“Which way?” Sorcha asked as we looked at the identical service ar
eas.
“Let’s try down,” I suggested.
“We don’t know what’s down there,” Sorcha protested.
“There’s got to be an exit,” I replied as I started down the stairs. “One the mages probably don’t know about.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sorcha sighed as she followed after me.
At the bottom of the stairs, Sorcha conjured up a small flame. It barely illuminated the surrounding area, but it was enough to keep me from crashing into the pre-magic vehicles that were parked in the area. There were dozens of them, and some even had wagons attached. Suitcases littered the floor as well, and we had to give up on moving quickly. On the plus side, the mages wouldn’t be able to move any faster if they somehow figured out where we were. I snickered at the thought of a slow chase through the pre-magic rubble, then reminded myself we wanted to be quiet.
Near the far end of this weird parking lot, I spotted what I’d hoped to find: the ubiquitous Exit sign that so many of these old buildings seemed to have. Now I just had to hope that the doors I could see hadn’t been sealed like the ones upstairs.
As we approached the doors, I could see that they were heavy and made of metal, with a long horizontal rod in place of a handle. The door on the left also had doorstops at the top and bottom that looked like they were rusted shut, but the door on the right had no such problems.
I climbed over the last suitcase and tested the right side door. It moved, ever so slightly, then stopped when it encountered something on the other side. I stood back for a moment, took a deep breath, then pushed against the door as hard as I could. The door moved maybe another two inches, but it refused to do more than that. A swift kick couldn’t budge it either. I finally put my shoulder against it, as did Sorcha, and together we pushed with every ounce of strength we could muster.
The hinges screeched, and I heard something on the other side of the doors topple to the ground, but the door slowly gave way. We squeezed through when there was just enough room for us to fit and found ourselves on a hard patch of concrete surrounded by flying machines and an assortment of abandoned luggage.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Well, we’re outside. Now all we need to do is figure out where seventy-eight is.”
Sorcha pulled out the new book with a triumphant wave. She flipped through the pages until she found one that showed the roads around the Newark International Airport. She turned the book a few times to try to orient it with the surrounding scene, then pointed toward the left.
“That way,” she declared.
“Are you sure?” I asked as I squinted into the darkness. There was just a field of concrete as far as the eye could see, and very little light to see by.
“I’m sure,” she said as she tucked the book back into her satchel.
“Better douse the light,” I suggested. “No reason to make it too easy for them to follow us.”
“Right,” Sorcha agreed as our paltry little flame flickered and died away.
There was a crashing sound in the room behind us, followed by the sound of luggage being tossed to the side. I shoved the door closed, threw some of the suitcases in front of the exit, and then bolted after Sorcha as she ran across the endless concrete.
Chapter 2
The old highway was well lit in the area around the mall and for a stretch just west of there. The road remained busy well after the sun had gone down, and we dodged among the other travellers with one eye over our shoulders. When no red robes appeared behind us, we agreed that we should find a place to stop for the night.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said we could camp by the side of the road,” I suggested as we took in the inn where many of our fellow travelers had stopped.
The inn was lit by beams of mage light that swept across the sky. On either side of the door were statues of large-breasted women with flowing gowns, and over the door was the statue of a well-endowed and very happy looking man. The building itself was a rambling affair, and it was clear that the inn had been expanded over the years. None of the styles used in the additions meshed very well, so the whole thing had a thrown-together look.
“And miss out on the entertainment?” Sorcha chuckled as she pointed to the sign that promised entertainment to appeal to every taste.
“Do you suppose they all perform on the same stage at the same time?” I laughed.
“I really don’t want to find out, but this is the only inn we’ve seen for a while,” Sorcha sighed.
“And it will be the first place the mages look,” I pointed out.
“You’re probably right about that,” Sorcha agreed. “It’s not like we’ve seen any other options.”
“The healer did say that there were plenty of places along this road,” I said as I squinted into the growing darkness.
“Let’s go a little further, then,” Sorcha suggested. “If we don’t find another inn, we’ll just make use of one of these abandoned buildings.”
“As long as it doesn’t have rats and snakes,” I added, which earned me an elbow to my stomach.
We didn’t have that far to go, it turned out. There was another inn just a short distance down the road, though we nearly missed it. It only had a single lamp outside, and a simple sign by that door that had a picture of a bulldog and the words ‘Rooms to Let’. The building itself was a plain two-story structure with narrow windows and a tile roof.
When we walked inside, we were greeted by a long, dark reception desk manned by an older man with a potbelly, and the crackle of a fire in a large stone fireplace. The man looked up from the box he was tinkering with and gave us an inquisitive look.
“We’re looking for a room for the night,” I said as we stepped up to the desk. Despite the fire on the other side of the room and the mage light behind the desk, the place was still dark. I realized that all the wood and stone in the room was dark, as were the few bits of furniture. It was pleasant, though, and gave the inn a homey feel.
“Two silvers,” the man replied as he slid the registry across the desk. He set the box aside and opened a drawer in the desk, then selected a key. “Do you have your tickets?”
Sorcha handed over our Ikea guest tickets, and the man glanced at them for a moment.
“Special guests of the church,” he mused as he looked at the tickets. “Nice to have you. You two here for the special service?”
“The special service?” I asked as I dug two silvers from my pouch.
“The mage tribute,” he explained as he looked up.
“Oh, that,” I said. “Yes, that’s why we’re here.”
“Of course,” Sorcha agreed. “Looking forward to it.”
The man nodded in approval, then placed the key in front of me.
“Room two ten,” the clerk said. “Top of the stairs, to your left.”
“Left, got it,” I said as I took the key.
“There might be something cold still available from the kitchen,” the man added as he nodded toward the room behind us. I could pick out several small tables, another fireplace, and a large bar. There were a few people scattered around the room, and most had a drink in front of them.
“We ate at the mall,” Sorcha replied. “But thank you.”
The man shrugged and then turned his attention back to the box. It had two slots on top, but he had opened up the bottom so he could see something inside. We left him to his work and made our way up the staircase at the back.
We found our room about halfway along the hall. I opened the door to reveal a comfortable looking room with a wide bed, a chest of drawers with a porcelain bowl and a pitcher of water, and a small table just big enough to hold two glasses and not much else.
“It’s nicer than Frenchie’s,” I commented as I took in the ivy pattern someone had painted on the walls.
“And much quieter,” Sorcha agreed. “I wouldn’t mind some tea before I go to sleep.”
“He did say there was a kitchen,” I mused as I dropped my jacket and satchels onto the bed. “Shall we see if they c
an put together a pot?”
“Sounds good,” Sorcha agreed as she piled her jacket and bags on the tiny table.
We stepped back out into the hall, and after I’d locked the door, we strolled back downstairs. The clerk looked up when we reappeared and gave us a friendly nod.
“Tea?” I asked.
“Just ask in the dining room,” the clerk replied as he nodded toward the room he had pointed out before.
We stepped into the room and were immediately enveloped in the scent of burning hickory wood and the clink of glasses. There were two other couples in the room, two men and a woman drinking on their own, and a group of men gathered around the largest table in the room. Someone had produced a pack of cards at that table, and the fwip-fwip of the cards joined the buzz of quiet conversation and the crackle of the flames.
I realized there were a few more tables than I had realized, though they were all small and tucked into the corners and nooks in the room. We found an empty one close enough to the fire to keep us warm without getting us too hot. Not long after we sat down, a skinny young woman with a mane of dark gold hair appeared from behind a swinging door. She sauntered to our table with a basket of rolls and promptly flashed a smile at me and a less friendly look at Sorcha.
“We just need some spearmint or chamomile tea,” Sorcha stated as she ignored the woman’s frosty look.
“We have some maple-nut pie left,” the waitress suggested as she smiled at me.
“We can share a slice,” I suggested to Sorcha.
“Sure,” Sorcha agreed.
“Tea for two and a slice of pie,” I told the waitress.
She returned to the kitchen with the basket of rolls, and I tried not to laugh as Sorcha rolled her eyes.
“It’s a good thing you’re having tea as well or I’m sure she’d add something of her own to the pot,” Sorcha groused.
“I’m sure she’s perfectly friendly,” I declared with a straight face, which earned me a light jab in the arm.