by Cyn Bagley
Mary Rose had been picking at him. She wanted him to meet a healer who specialized in magical injuries. The healer wanted to poke and prod and make him good as new. He would never be as good as new.
He wanted the magic again. He longed for the magic, but he shuddered. No, he wouldn’t sell his soul to be a mage. The image of the black mage’s ripped and tattered aura flashed in his mind.
However, if he couldn’t touch the threads of magic, he might as well become a beggar on the street. He wouldn’t be good for much with this bum leg.
He limped along, black swirling in his heart, the dancers forgotten.
***
Michael finally reached Josphine’s brothel, limping the entire way. It was the most well-kept building on the street. The bushes, their leaves brown and fallen after the first snap of winter, lined the walkway. Mary Rose had installed him here, instead of in her main brothel, hidden in the wealthy district of Delhaven.
Michael had agreed that he would be safer here than in a brothel that entertained more sophisticated tastes. Plus Lord Barton would be less likely to spot him here. There was a bounty on Hilda’s and Davi’s heads. Mary Rose wanted to keep him safe. Since she was the queen of the underworld, he indulged her.
Still it grated. He was a man now and not a young boy packed off to the university. He knew he should feel grateful that his two sisters had sacrificed much to pay the fees that had kept him there. He had taken for granted his health, his magic, and even his sisters. Now the loss of his health and magic made him painfully aware of the charity he had accepted from Mary Rose.
Their lives would have been better without the burden of his existence. His thoughts ran on and on as he slipped into the back door and into the kitchen. It was the smell of baking bread that snapped him out of his mood. His stomach growled.
The cook didn’t even ask if he was hungry. She just cut a big slice off that cooling bread, slapped butter on it, and handed him a piece. He took a deep breath before taking a bite and chewing it slowly. The texture, the taste, the way it slid down his throat, was enough. He hummed as he ate. The cook smiled.
“Want some bacon and eggs? I still have some grease in the pan.”
Michael nodded no. The cloud that was following him and graying out his emotions disappeared for a moment.
Then she came. Josephine. Woman. Whore. Madam. Businesswoman. Her touch was warm and gentle and he wanted to shrug it off. She dropped her hand from his shoulder as if she could feel his emotions.
“Come,” she said.
He sighed deeply as he finished the last of the bread. It was time to face the music. The healer was in.
He stood up and leaned on the cane, then moved after Josephine. She had corrected him many times, “Call me Joe.” But that face, that body, the way she moved like a queen. She would always be Josephine to him.
Josephine led him to one of the back bedrooms. Unlike most of the brothel it was furnished simply with a bed, chair, and desk. The healer, a man of medium height, gray hair with slashes of white, and dressed in a white robe, waited for Michael. There was kindness in his eyes.
Michael didn’t want to see it. Kindness was another form of pity. He dragged his leg, it had started hurting even more from the exertions of the morning. He slumped on the bed. The healer sat down in the chair next to him, looked him in the eye. Josephine looked at both of them, “This is Master Roffe,” then she backed out of the door and closed it.
So Michael was alone with the healer.
“May I look at your leg?” the healer asked. Michael took off his boot, and rolled up his pant leg. The healer took the leg firmly in his hands and felt the toes, traced the arch, and lightly touched his ankle. The leg looked perfectly fine from the outside.
“You walked on it today?” The tone of the healer’s voice lifted and he waited for an answer.
Michael nodded yes. So far this hadn’t been too painful, but that changed. The healer took the leg in both hands, straightened it, and pulled steadily. Michael could feel the pain start at his hip and radiate up and down his right side. He clamped his mouth shut so he wouldn’t scream. He did bite his lip until the lower lip had a little bead of blood. He could taste the iron.
The healer let go and the relief was so sudden that Michael gasped.
“You need to exercise that leg,” the healer said.
“But, I walk every day.”
The healer smiled, “Let me show you some exercises that will strengthen that leg more. If you do these two or three times a day, then you’ll be able to walk normally without the cane.”
So for the next hour, the healer showed him how to stretch the leg. Then he had him stand in a corner for 30 seconds on the hurt leg. At first he swayed and couldn’t stand on the one leg for more than a second or two. There were other exercises, but the healer told him that standing on the one leg would be the first step in getting his leg back.
Hope surged. If he could get strong again, even if the magic didn’t come back, he would be able to work. An unskilled worker on the docks didn’t make much, but then he wouldn’t be using his sisters’ handouts.
“If we can get your leg working properly, I’ll bring a mind-healer. I can’t make promises, you know.”
Michael knew that healers were known to be cautious. The next words made him shake though.
“The scars seem superficial. If that is so, you may get your magic back.”
Michael couldn’t think, couldn’t stand, and couldn’t do much. He lost control of his body and fell on the bed. His leg hurt and his brain hurt.
He might get well.
The healer smiled at his reaction, “Let’s work on the leg first. You need to be strong to take the next step.”
The healer left him there. Michael didn’t even wonder who would pay for his healing. He was stunned. His life might not be over. His feelings surged and he could feel pinpricks in his head.
He was too tired so he stretched out on the bed and watched the afternoon light flicker against the walls and ceiling of the room. A few hours later Josephine walked in with a tray containing meats and cheeses. He ate until he was full, about half the plate. Josephine sat with him for a few moments as he babbled the good news.
She smiled, patted his shoulder, then left him to sleep. He didn’t hear the screams of passion from the patrons or the music and dancing. He was exhausted, body and soul, drifting through the darkness of sleep.
Chapter Three
The forest village
Davi Dracson
The little men with knives in their hands and bows strung across their backs surrounded Davi as he held the reins of the two horses. Davi stood still, holding his breath. One of them poked him and Davi’s breath whooshed out of him. The little man pointed to where Hilda had disappeared. Davi walked in that direction, whispering to the horses to keep them calm. When he reached the bend of the road, he saw Hilda being threatened by a small woman with a bow.
When Hilda didn’t react, he watched the interchange and then walked behind her. The two of them had been left with their weapons. If the situation got any worse, Davi would call the she-dragon. The she-dragon had been helpful in the past, although forests did not make for good flying or landing.
The small village was quiet. No children played in the courtyard. He couldn’t hear any animals except the quiet blowing of the horses at his back. Several villagers with knives, swords, and bows stood in the courtyard waiting for their arrival.
This was too reminiscent of the mage’s village. He looked around for signs that the adults had gone crazed. But the courtyard was clean. There was no filth spread across the streets. The houses looked like they had been built only a few months ago. The disrepair that Davi had seen in the other village was not here. He breathed a sigh of relief.
A gray-haired woman stepped through the crowd and toward Hilda. “Welcome, to our village, Hilda.”
“Why are we here, Elita?”
“You do remember me,” Elita laughed, although
it sounded forced. She waved her hand toward the villagers and they left silently.
Davi felt a chill down his back. He knew that they were being watched. This was an armed camp. Something had gone very wrong, but it didn’t feel like magic. Whatever it was, he wanted to strike at something or someone. Elita didn’t feel like the target though.
The she-dragon had told him that when his dragon was ready to surface, he would feel emotions that were more passionate and more dangerous than what he felt as a human. Hopefully he wasn’t ready to turn. He wasn’t ready to be a dragon with no human friends. He was the first dragon to make human friends. He wanted control of his other form.
Plus he took his job as scout very seriously. Anything he learned about the humans and the way they thought and acted would be added to the lore. If he did a good job, he might become a dragonmaster.
He pulled away from the passion that rumbled in his chest. He went from high emotion to coldness. He needed to see and feel the emotions around them because something wasn’t right.
“Why are we here?” Hilda asked again. “We are on a mission and you have diverted us,” she continued. “What is so important?”
“As you wish.” Elita’s head went down and her shoulders slumped. “We have been raided. They took our valuables and our children.” Davi wanted to shout, “Well then, fool, why didn’t you follow them?
Elita may have read his thoughts or actually Hilda’s thoughts because she said, “There was magic. We cannot find the trail.”
Davi could see that this disturbed Hilda. Who was Elita? Why was she disturbed at Elita’s inability to find a trail?
“Show me.”
Davi kept his mouth shut and followed Hilda and Elita to the edge of the woods. There was a well right at the edge of the woods. It was well-maintained and had been used recently. The bucket used to lift the water was wet.
“The trail ends here,” Elita said.
Davi had gotten used to seeing with his physical senses. This time he needed to feel with his dragon senses. He closed his eyes and opened them again. His eyes had turned yellow-gold with a black slit in the center. He looked. A blackness swirled at the place where the trail disappeared.
He looked at Elita. In amongst the red and yellow there was a strand of light blue. The wind played softly with her hair. Suddenly he knew that the reason Hilda could find trails was that she had a weak air talent. Plus the wind loved her. It caressed her hair, face, and shoulders. He saw her shoulders relax.
Elita must have known this because she looked at Hilda with hope in her eyes. “I know you can find them,” she said.
Hilda asked, “Davi, do you see something?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “There is a black swirl where the trail disappears.”
“Can you see if you can pick up the trail somewhere else?”
He closed his eyes this time and felt his mind search down the path. He felt his mind stretch one and two miles. Still he didn’t see the trail in his mind, he searched in other directions until he was exhausted. After awhile, he opened his eyes. “I don’t see anything past that dark swirling thing.”
“Show me,” Hilda ordered. She placed her hand on Davi’s shoulder.
Davi felt her gasp. She could see the blackness as it swirled and looped in place like a knot in the fabric of time. The taste of the magic was bitter. Maybe black magic tasted this way. Davi filed this impression for future use.
Hilda took her hand off his arm. “Michael told me about this magic. It’s a loop.” She looked at Elita. “Whatever you see, don’t touch it or anyone in there.” She then threw a rock into the swirling mess. It began to slow down and they could see the children inside. The children were climbing trees and beating on rocks. One was looking back at them.
Elita cried, “My baby,” and rushed toward the loop.
Hilda grabbed her before she could rush into the loop. Elita struggled against Hilda, trying to escape and to save her daughter. Hilda yelled in her ear. “If you run into the trap, you will die there and so will your baby. Let me fix this.”
Elita still struggled as Hilda held her. Her struggles lessened as her brain caught up to her emotions. “You can fix this?” Elita was out of breath.
At that point Hilda let her go. “Yes,” Hilda said firmly. She looked at Davi who correctly interpreted that look. It wasn’t a sure thing. The children had already been in the loop for a few days. The loop may have hardened. If they didn’t get the children out soon, they would die.
“We need to find a quiet place,” Hilda said. “Have someone guard this place. We’ll use moon magic to give us more strength for the ritual.”
Elita frowned at Hilda. Still she did set a guard on the time loop and found an empty cabin for them. Davi wasn’t sure what Hilda had planned. After all, she was an untrained mage and Davi only had instincts—and the instincts were predatory at best.
***
Elita escorted them to the cabin and then left a warrior to guard the door. “For your protection,” she murmured and then she was gone.
Hilda groaned and slid to the bed. Soon she was flat on her back. Instead of asking what was wrong, Davi grabbed the liniment from the saddle bags he had carried into their room. He would have stayed with the horses, unsaddled, groomed, and fed them. At the very least he would have checked to see if the young stable boy had groomed them. The guard at the door stopped him from wandering.
Hilda bit her lips as Davi helped her pull off her leather pants. Her cheeks reddened as he bared her legs. He ignored her embarrassment and checked to see if any of the saddle sores on her thighs had broken open. “You wouldn’t have these,” he said quietly, “if you walked instead of rode.”
She groaned-laughed. “True, but I can’t walk as fast as you can. I’m an old woman, remember?”
He just snorted at her.
At least the sores hadn’t burst open yet, although they looked ready to burst. He put the horse liniment on the huge blisters and then wrapped them with a cloth he found hanging near the wash basin. The horse liniment had a strong smell that cleared his sinuses.
He pulled out a pot, poured water in it from the wash basin, and then, with the help of Sassy, heated the water. He made a cup of willow bark tea for her. She sighed after drinking the tea, closed her eyes, and was soon snoring lightly. He wanted to laugh because she fell asleep like an old woman. He would have to tease her about it.
He pulled a blanket over himself and curled up on the floor. He had a small hard pillow to cushion his head. Then he was asleep.
A few hours later Davi woke up to candle light. Hilda smiled a little as he groaned and stretched. His back and joints ached from lying on the hard floor. He stretched and then sat on a small chair. Hilda moved her fingers in elaborate patterns over the candle. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Oh, just an exercise. It helps me hold the sword better. Damn.” The candle light flickered and she looked solemn.
There were two glasses of light ale and some hard bread on a small wooden table. She handed him a plate with pieces of hard bread on it. He took a piece off the plate, soaked it in a little ale, and sucked on the bread until it was soft enough to chew. His stomach grumbled a little as he ate.
He was still fully dressed. He felt itchy and nasty. There was dust on his clothes and hair. He could tell that it was getting close to midnight.
Davi spoke, “How are we going to break that spell?” There were a few crumbs on his chin.
“We aren’t.” Hilda stretched. She looked rested and not so stiff. She stood up and bent over until she touched her feet. She did this a few times until she was warmed up.
“But- but-” he wanted to protest. They had promised to help the children. He felt a little stab in his heart. Hilda must have seen the hurt in his eyes because she tried to explain.
“Shhhhhh,” Hilda said. “You remember the rock I threw into the time loop?”
Davi nodded his head yes. “Did you see that little girl? Elita’s
girl?”
Davi had seen a girl that looked a little like Elita. She was the only one touching the barrier.
Hilda continued. “She looked smart enough to break the spell. I just gave her something from the outside world to help her.”
But it was just a rock.
“You’ll see.” Hilda pulled on her pants, and as she strapped on knives and her sword.
Davi glared at her weaponry. Hilda smiled, “Always be prepared,” she said.
Two things didn’t sit right with him. Hilda assumed that that little girl had enough magic and knowledge to break the loop. Second she needed to be armed. He strapped his knife to his side and pulled out the cane sword he had been using for practice. If she was armed, he would be armed.
He wished he hadn’t eaten so much of the hard bread. His stomach fluttered as he waited for Elita to come for them.
Chapter Four
Delhaven, port city
Michael Ordson
Underneath his feet, Michael could hear the music and laughter from the main room. After his healer’s appointment he had been so exhausted that he had collapsed on the bed. He was now wide awake. He stretched his leg and felt a twinge. He could hear his joints pop as he slid to the side of the bed, put his feet down on the floor, and stood up.
He was dressed in a nightshirt. Someone must have put him in these clothes, because he couldn’t remember anything after the healer’s visit. He could feel the vibrations under his feel. Someone was having a huge party. Normally in the face of such merriment, he would hide or find somewhere else quiet. He looked out the window and the moon stared back at him. He had slept the afternoon and evening away. His stomach grumbled. Food would be good right now.
Michael snapped his fingers at the candle, but once again he failed to light it with his will and magic. He sighed, picked up the brass candle holder and walked into the hallway. The brothel made sure there was at least one candle in the hallway at all times. The shadows slid back and forth in waves around and in front of him.