City of Broken Magic

by Mirah Bolender

  “Are you okay?” Laura gasped.

  “I don’t know.” He sounded normal enough. He looked down at himself, then back up. “I think I am. How did that just happen?”

  “I don’t know! Are you sure you didn’t break your legs?”

  “--- can’t stand on broken legs, can ---?”

  “I don’t know! You’re the one who just fell five stories!”

  He stared, then started to pat himself down, searching for anything broken. Laura looked back up at the roof but couldn’t see any sign of the other man.

  “I’m good,” Okane sighed.

  How he could possibly be, Laura had no idea, but she wasn’t going to question it too much.

  “What happened up there?”

  “I caught him.” His eyes were distracted, flitting to follow something invisible and ignoring Laura’s presence. “Managed to get the bag away … dropped it … then he pushed me over the side. And I landed.” He looked pointedly at what was now plainly an indentation in the concrete, and gave Laura an expression that clearly showed he was questioning his sanity. “And I didn’t die.”

  “If it helps at all, I’m very glad you didn’t die.”

  “That helps everything.” That was probably meant as sarcastic, but he was so out of it, it sounded genuine and weak.

  “How about we go back to find Clae? Thanks to you we’ve got the amulets, and it might be nice to have police help right now.”

  Laura clipped the bag closed and picked it up. She began walking back the way they’d come, slowing down because Okane seemed unsteady on his feet. She held out her free arm, silently asking if he needed help, but he shook his head and kept walking. As he passed, Laura caught a strong whiff of vanilla, and her nose wrinkled. It brought a sharp pang of something like jealousy, and it took her a moment to realize why. The few times she’d been close to the drapes in the shop, she’d picked up on a faint smell of vanilla. She’d connected the two subconsciously. How stupid, she thought, and crushed that down. She was happy he was alive at all.

  The more they walked the stronger his steps became, though he still weaved a little by the time they reached the original building. One police officer remained in the backyard, but there was no gunfight and not much noise from the building. The officer ran over as soon as she saw them.

  “Where did you run off to?” she demanded. “You were supposed to have a police escort!”

  “I tried to tell you we were leaving, but you were busy getting shot at,” said Laura.

  “You did?” She frowned, looked over her shoulder, and shouted, “Danny! You said you had this!”

  A blond policeman looked at them from the first-floor window and gave an exaggerated shrug. The woman heaved a resigned sigh.

  “And you, what were you thinking?” She glared at Okane.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Obviously.”

  “We got the amulets, though!” Laura butted in, lifting the bag. “The man carrying them got away, but this is important, right?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Did you get the mobsters?” Laura leaned to look at all the police moving around inside.

  “The raid was for the most part successful. There was a safe full of amulets too. Your boss is taking care of that now.”

  “I’m done,” called Clae’s voice from the third floor. He leaned out one of the windows, peering down at them like a hawk. “What are you doing out there?”

  Laura held the bag above her head. “Ten amulets purified! They looked barely formed, so they didn’t have the power or smarts to do damage yet.”

  “Good job. I’ll be right down.” He hopped out onto the fire escape.

  “Beyond that, we think we’ve got the majority of the mobsters in custody,” the policewoman told them. “If they’ve got any more amulet stores, we’ll go after those later. Once we get the locations out of the prisoners.”

  “Will you ask us to go with you on those raids, too?”

  “It didn’t look like we needed you this time, but we’ll transport it all to you as soon as possible.”

  Clae dropped from the ladder with a thump and walked over to them. “How many Eggs did you use?”

  “Two. It’s packed, so they were all caught in the attacks.” Laura undid the clips and held the bag open for him to look in. He glared at the contents, eyes flicking back and forth.

  “With ten amulets, we don’t know how much an Egg can properly purify. We’ll unload them all at the shop and examine them thoroughly. We’ve got to bring the safe-load with us too and transport it all to the Amuletory eventually, anyway.” He caught a glimpse of Okane out of the corner of his eye and straightened up to regard him. “What happened to you?”

  “Fell off a building,” Okane admitted.

  “How high?”

  “I think she said five stories?” Okane muttered, glancing at Laura. “I’m fine, though. Nothing’s broken or anything.”

  “Five goddamn stories,” Clae hissed.

  He pulled off his old coat and tossed it over Okane’s head. Okane jumped, pushing the fabric out of his face to stare.

  “I’m sorry, what is this?” he mumbled.

  “Security blanket.”

  “That’s not a blanket,” said Laura.

  “I can see that,” Clae growled. “But he fell five goddamn stories. Security blanket. Coat works just as well.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Remember what I said about fight-or-flight? How it can go seriously and completely wrong? The last thing we need is you going into shock.”

  “Really, I’m fine,” Okane insisted, trying to pull off the coat, but Clae gave him a look and he froze.

  “Please just do this. If it has any effect, you’ll need it. Anselm.”

  “Anselm. Right. Calm.” Somewhat paler than before, Okane wrapped himself up in the coat. It looked far too small on him.

  Clae rubbed his shoulders, but turned back to the building and shouted, “Hey! Hurry up in there!”

  “Yes, sir!” came a hurried response.

  After a minute the blond policeman came out, carrying another large bag. Clae took it from him.

  “I’ve been ordered to remind you that there’s some paperwork to go along with all this. You need to have it signed and turned in to the station by the weekend so it’s not delayed too long. We need it all taken care of as soon as—”

  “I know the drill,” Clae snapped, hefting the bag into his arms.

  “Just what I was ordered to say, that’s all.”

  17

  THE GIN CYCLE

  Okane wore the coat all the way back to Acis Road. Every time he acted like he’d remove it, Clae turned to look at him. It wasn’t like he was giving the stink eye or anything, just a blank look, but considering Okane’s reaction he might as well have been; he pulled the coat tighter every time. They walked back to the shop in relative silence, but as they passed the Keedlers’ bakery Clae spoke.

  “I want you to work this weekend.”

  Laura pulled a face. “Are you planning to follow along on the next raid?”

  “No. You’re my apprentice and you should know how this works.” He stepped up to the shop door.

  Her reluctance faded in favor of curiosity. “How what works?”

  “We’re going to another city.”

  That didn’t shed much light on things. Nevertheless, Laura perked up at the idea. The wilds outside the walls were dangerous and transport was expensive, so few people traveled on a whim.

  They entered the shop. Clae deposited the briefcase and the amulet bag to lock the door behind them. Okane began to fidget.

  “Clae?” Laura couldn’t remember a time when Clae had locked the door during business hours. “What do you mean, we’re going to a different city? What does that have to do with Sweeping?”

  Her unease grew as Clae went to the windows. She’d never noticed blinds there but they were obviously present, as Clae pulled them down to block out the light. Laura and Okane
shared an uneasy look.

  “We’re going to Puer for a trade,” Clae explained. “It’s supposedly an act of goodwill between cities, but more importantly it’s a Sweeper gathering.”

  “Sweepers have gatherings?” said Okane.

  “Once a year we travel to specifically chosen locations to exchange Gin.”

  Laura’s brow furrowed. “Gin? We exchange our amulets?”

  “Not quite.”

  Clae pushed aside the black drapes and walked behind them. Laura immediately brightened—was she finally going to see what was back there, what he was so protective of? The drapes wavered at his passing, and there was a shuffling sound before he came back out, carrying a rock. The sight made Laura’s shoulders slump again. Really, a rock? He might as well have been keeping a collection of marbles. The object in question was a big, strangely shaped, light gray rock at least the size of a baby. The light from the Kin caught it and caused its surface to shimmer.

  He set it down on a stool and beckoned them over. Laura approached cautiously. There was something strange and warm about this thing, and she couldn’t help but relax as she got close. Light winked across it, and she swore she could faintly hear a child giggling. She glanced at Okane to see his reaction. He was entranced; this must’ve been completely different from what he’d been shown back there.

  “This is Gin.” Clae’s voice snapped Laura back to attention. “I’ve told you before that Gin is a magic source. Amulets made from it never need to be refilled. That’s because Gin is an individual strain of magic. It is the thing that regenerates other amulets.”

  “So that’s the rock that’s way under Amicae?” Laura remembered her father and how he talked about his work. We have to be careful not to disrupt this silver rock. The chimneys and the silver, you don’t go near those if you can help it.

  “This one is actually from under Vitae.” Clae rested one hand on it. “Almost all of the cities are built on top of a Gin strain. It leaches energy into the earth around it, and people back then decided it had to be blessed or hallowed ground. Thought it was good luck to build homes on it.”

  “It winds through the earth like a snake,” Okane whispered. “I remember it.”

  “You probably lived in the caves alongside it.”

  “--- know where that is?” Okane peeled his gaze away from the rock to peer up at him.

  “Gin strains are found all over the main islands. You’d need an expert to locate a specific one.”

  “But you know where this one comes from.” Laura didn’t quite follow where this was going.

  “The ones owned by Sweepers are registered and kept track of very closely. Part of the trading.”

  “Are you giving this back to Vitae, then?”

  “We have a system going. Each city has two Gin stones like this. One is the Gin from under our city or region, and the other is rotated throughout the cities. Every year, Sweepers carry their foreign Gin to its next destination. Last year this one was in Avis. This year, Amicae. For the next year it’ll be in Puer. There’s a Gin stone from Amicae floating around somewhere in Ruhaile.”

  “So this is like a ceremony? A holiday?”

  “Not the kind of ceremony you’re thinking of, just part of the job. And networking. Some experts found subtle differences in the magic of each region and got scared that the monsters we hunt might be able to become immune to specific strains. The rotation is so the monsters won’t be exposed to the same thing long enough to develop immunity. Stupid, but they’re convinced.”

  “Stupid?”

  “Gin is pure magic. Unfiltered magic like that wards off any monsters; it’s instant death to them. You’re not about to get immune if the essence of death comes down on your head. That’s that.”

  “It’s true. The Silverstone caves were always the safest place,” Okane agreed.

  Laura wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Had he really lived underground?

  “But it’s also networking?” she pondered. “So you are in contact with a bunch of other Sweepers?”

  “Haven’t you seen all the letters going in and out? We talk about techniques and equipment mostly. Exchange of ideas.”

  Laura liked the sound of it. She wondered if the other Sweepers could give her tips. Maybe they gathered and talked about their experiences; that would be fascinating. Were the other places set up like Coronae, the way it had been presented in that old book?

  “That takes place this weekend?”

  “Yes. We’ll be taking a train.”

  “We’ll have to pack, then!” Laura turned her giddy smile on Okane.

  “Oh, not you,” Clae amended, and for a moment she was baffled.

  “I’m not going?” asked Okane.

  “What? Why not? You’re an apprentice too!” Laura protested.

  “He’s not going because someone has to stay and watch the shop.”

  “Can’t you get Brecht to do that? Or just keep it locked up?”

  “We’ll be gone several days and the Pits still need to be maintained. Besides, I’m not leaving that crone all access to this place.”

  “But—”

  “Laura. We have a permanent Gin here. It’s the key to making kin, and without it we’re sunk. Look at this.” He clapped his hand on the rock again. “Imagine what would happen if someone found out about this. How many amulets could be made from this stone? How much would even one of those little amulets go for in an auction?”

  Just one Gin amulet had a massive price tag, and it would only need to be the size of a marble. She gave a low whistle. Even if Gin wasn’t the big bad mystery of the drapes, Laura could see why he was so protective of them now.

  “Exactly.” Clae nodded at her understanding. “I’ve had wannabe thieves try to get in here before. I’m not risking this being unprotected.”

  “--- can’t really think I can protect them,” said Okane. “I’m just one person, and if the Sullivans—”

  “The Sullivans aren’t going to set foot on this street.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m not the only one here they’d have to look out for, and I’ve made it very clear to my esteemed neighbors that they have free rein over anything suspicious. Mr. Keedler is an ex-military man with a collection of guns, and the pawnshop owner is very handy with baseball bats. They’ll take care of the outside. You just have to make this place look inhabited.”

  Okane still looked dubious but nodded. Clae eyed them both, strummed his fingers on the rock again, and went to pick it up.

  “Clae?” Laura piped up.

  “What?”

  “I’m more experienced with how things work here. Are you sure I shouldn’t be the one staying?” She glanced at Okane as she spoke. A little demon in her gut railed at her to shut up, this is the kind of big job you’ve wanted, but she tried to quash it. She wanted to be an amazing Sweeper, be significant, but at what cost? She didn’t like the idea of him being left alone, especially not when Sullivan might be waiting to catch him again. To her he still seemed woefully inept, in need of guidance.

  “I’ll be fine,” said Okane. He didn’t look terribly confident, but sent her a small smile. “I know I look like a goldbrick, but I’ve been learning a few things. I won’t let the place burn down if ---’re gone a few days.”

  “But—”

  “He’s right. What he said at the temple. I need to pull my own weight. Stop pulling --- down.”

  “It’s because you’re more experienced that you need to go,” said Clae, pushing past the drapes again. “It’s part of the requirement to become an actual Sweeper instead of apprentice.”

  “I’m moving up?” She stared at the cloth, baffled.

  “You’ve been functioning like a regular Sweeper for a while now. The trip will just make it official. We’ll be gone at least four days. Two traveling, two or more in the city. Make sure you’re ready to go.”

  * * *

  When she went home, Laura was excited to share the news. M
organ would probably dread her leaving, but both she and Cheryl would be excited at the same time. It was late notice, but still. Maybe if she dug out her savings Laura could buy them a souvenir.

  “I’m back,” she called as she came in.

  “Great timing,” said Morgan. “Could you grab the pepper?”

  Laura did so without question. Morgan was busy putting diced chicken and soup into a pan, and shook the offered pepper in without even pausing to measure. The kitchen was already full of rich and wonderful smells, and dishes like fish croquettes, creamed potatoes, and steamed apples were set on the table. Cheryl hovered by the door in a very Okane-esque way, eyes set on the apples.

  “Looks like a tasting night,” said Laura. “Are we your testers, or have you invited people over?”

  “We’ll be eating with some coworkers,” said Morgan. “The boss wants a new menu ready by spring, so he’s given us a bit of extra budget to experiment with. If I can get some of the other workers on my side, I might be able to contribute.”

  Laura laughed. “You’re still trying to get into the yearly cookbook, aren’t you?”

  Morgan smiled. “It’s only a matter of time. Much as they don’t want to admit it, I’m a perfectly good cook.”

  “Well, if I have anything to say about it, this is the year.” Laura sniffed at the air. “What are you making now?”

  “Chicken soufflé.”

  “I thought soufflé was dessert,” said Cheryl.

  “This one will taste so good, it may as well be. It’s a shame my coworkers could only work today into their schedules, or I might’ve been able to share all this with your parents.”

  Laura stiffened. “My parents?”

  “Of course.” Morgan switched over to a new bowl and a veritable army of eggs. “Remember? They’re on leave starting this weekend.”