The Left-Hand Path: Runaway

by Barnett,T. S.

  Nathan poked around the shop at his leisure, touching a few small statues and incense burners that caught his eye.

  “Nice place,” he called out, and the man at the front looked up again with a slight frown on his lips. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with a tousled mess of brown hair and a few days’ worth of stubble on his jaw. He stared across the shop at Nathan and Adelina with eyes that looked remarkably tired for a man his age.

  “Thanks,” the man answered in a soft voice, one hand keeping his place in his open book.

  “You’re the owner?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Proctor, is it?” Nathan approached the front counter with a small collection of little baggies of herbs, and at the last moment he chose a set of cat’s eye shells from a small basket. “A friend recommended you.”

  The man straightened and pushed his book aside to make room for Nathan’s selections, watching the pair with a furrowed brow and a suspicious frown. “A friend did? Which friend?”

  “Oh, back in Vancouver. More an acquaintance, really. Mentioned I was coming to Toronto; he suggested your shop as a place to stock up.”

  The man’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “I’m glad I have a reputation,” he said simply. “Just these?”

  “Yes, thanks. You’ve quite a nice selection here; do a lot of business?”

  “My share.” He did a quick count of Nathan’s herbs and tapped a number into the aging cash register. “$36.20.”

  Nathan dug in his pocket and offered him a business card he had picked up from their last restaurant stop, clearly expecting him to take it as cash, but the man spared only a single glance at the card before locking eyes with Nathan.

  “We take cash here,” he said bluntly, “not glamors. Pay or get out; I don’t have time for bullshit.”

  Nathan laughed and slipped the card back into his pocket without argument. “Well done,” he said. “No fooling you, is there?” He glanced over at Adelina. “Do you have ready money? I don’t want to leave empty-handed.”

  “You should have asked to begin with,” Adelina sighed, and she offered the man at the counter an apologetic smile as she handed him a few bills.

  “No harm in trying,” Nathan shrugged. He leaned against the counter while Adelina sorted her change. “Do you happen to know where a man might do a bit more illicit shopping, by the by?” he asked. “As I said, I’m new to Toronto, and I may be in the market for some rare and varied sundries.”

  Proctor watched Nathan with a wary eye for a moment before answering. “There’s a bazaar underneath St. Lawrence Market. The entrance is by Domino Foods on the lower level, but a Chaser guards it. The password is túathaid. You can find just about anything there. Any more illicit than that, and I don’t know about it.”

  “That’s very helpful, Mr. Proctor. We’ll look into it. On a related note,” Nathan added, tilting his head up at the other man, “do you do any other sort of work? You know. Real work?”

  “Depends on the work,” Proctor answered without looking up. He dropped Nathan’s purchases into a small paper bag and folded the end over before offering it to him.

  “Well, what sort do you do?”

  The man shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. “Simple enchantments. Lifting curses, hexes. Nothing dangerous.”

  “Well noted,” Nathan mused, and he held up his bag with a bright smile. “I thank you kindly, Mr. Proctor, and I hope that we meet again. Have a lovely day.” He hooked his arm through Adelina’s and led her back out onto the street, where he folded up his bag and tucked it safely into his coat pocket.

  “And what was the point of all that?” she asked, her arm in his shifting as he moved to light a cigarette.

  “In good time,” he said in a puff of smoke. “I’m going to need you to do something for me, kè mwen.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Proctor,” he said as they walked, glancing back over his shoulder toward the shop. “I need some personal concerns from him.”

  Adelina paused. Personal concerns—things like hair, fingernails, foot tracks, or various bodily fluids—were commonly used in rootwork, but very rarely for well-intentioned purposes. “What? What on earth for? Who is he?”

  “He’s the one who’s going to prove what sort of man Elton is.” He looked over at her wary frown. “It’s nothing dangerous; I promise.”

  “What are you going to do to him?”

  “Nothing at all. Honestly,” he laughed when she knit her brow. “I just need to bring Elton to him. Give him something that only Proctor can undo. I promise I don’t mean to curse an innocent shopkeeper.” She sighed and pressed her lips together uncertainly. “Go on,” he urged with a bright smile. “It’ll be fun. And probably very easy—he looks like rather a lonely sort of person, doesn’t he? Eager for company.”

  “I am not sleeping with a stranger for the sake of your game,” she countered, tugging her arm from his to walk separately. “Why would you need that sort of thing anyway? Hair will do.”

  “Well, I suppose if you like doing things the boring way.” She frowned at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll leave it up to your discretion, kè mwen. But you will do it, won’t you? It’s ever so important, and you’ll have a much easier time of it than I would.”

  “Yes, I’ll do it,” she said after a moment, and Nathan smiled at her and took a pull from his cigarette as they walked. She would need to keep an eye on him to ensure he hadn’t been lying about it not being a curse. She had the sneaking suspicion that Proctor and the city at large might be better off if Nathan’s plans were spoiled completely, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious to see what sort of work her father had in mind.

  The next morning, Adelina sat at the elegant dining room table and sipped her coffee until she could no longer abide Nathan’s prompting stare through the doorway. Patience was not one of his few virtues, and she had only had a single blessed hour of peace before he returned from his morning swim and began to pad about the suite, periodically asking her if she had any plans for the day. She pointedly ignored his prodding, and when she finished her cup, she stood and frowned at him.

  “Now I will go. Will you be able to entertain yourself?”

  “I’m always entertained.”

  She gave a skeptical hum and went to her bedroom to change out of her pajamas. She looked at her face in the mirror as she applied her light eyeshadow and soft bronze lipstick, touching her smooth cheek with her fingertips. She was used to her new youth by now, but every glance into a reflective surface had startled her for weeks after she had first completed the spell. She would take better care of her skin this time.

  Nathan had left her detailed instructions as to the spell she could use to grow young again, along with adequate warnings concerning the risk. She had put it off for days, her mind turning back and forth at the idea—she would have the opportunity to live another full lifetime, to know her father through more than her mother’s wistful stories. But it would be at the expense of an innocent person’s life.

  Finally, she had given in to the temptation, but she had at least been able to tell herself that she’d been sent a sign. A man had tried to mug her on her way home from the grocery store, and her first reaction had been to put him to sleep. From there, it had seemed so simple to pull him into a dark alley and steal the youth from his very lips. She told herself that he was wasting the life he’d been given anyway, but his twisted and blackened face still haunted her when she closed her eyes. If she was honest, it was exciting to be young again, to feel free and strong, and to have her father—erratic as he might be—right there with her. But the cost had been high.

  She leaned back from the mirror, satisfied with her work, and reached up to touch her hair. Nathan had convinced her that her braids had seemed out of style, claiming that they “didn’t do her justice,” and he had taken her to a very expensive salon to bring her up to date. Her hair was wild and natural, framing her face in tight, dark
curls. She had enjoyed the trip. When Nathan wasn’t scheming—or drunk—he could be very loving and attentive, and he never raised his voice or spoke sternly to her. He was perhaps not someone who she would consider a good father, even if she had particularly needed one, but there was tenderness in him. On occasion.

  Adelina pulled on her leggings, long dress, and boots, and passed Nathan with an idle wave on her way to the front door. He had settled himself with a newspaper crossword puzzle propped on the arm of the sofa, his bare feet resting on the coffee table. He was so casual, so relaxed, that she could almost believe he wasn’t someone who had been on the run from the Magistrate for the past six months. He grinned encouragingly at her as she put on her coat, and she spared him an indulgent smile before slipping out the door.

  She took her time getting to the shop and explored the city instead, grateful for a chance to walk the streets and take in the sights. She’d never had any particular longing to visit Canada, but the people were mostly friendly, the countryside was lovely, and the cities were diverse. It wasn’t a bad place by any means, even if the winter seemed to stretch into eternity. She would be glad when their travels led them somewhere warmer.

  While she walked, she tried to think of how she could possibly get any sort of personal concerns out of the man who had done nothing but scowl at them the day before. There was an off chance she would be able to find something in a dusty corner of the shop, but she couldn’t take the risk of accidentally picking up some other stranger’s hair. The whole affair—Nathan and Elton, this cat and mouse that Nathan was so eager for—was ridiculous, really. If Nathan was so old that he was bored, he could have taken up a hobby of some kind that didn’t involve destroying hotel rooms and sleeping with anyone that looked at him. Maybe woodworking. He could have gone back to Haiti. They still could. The Magistrate wouldn’t follow them there, and maybe Nathan could finally settle down.

  Adelina let out a soft sigh as she finally turned the corner leading to the little curio shop, and she stopped just out of sight of the broad windows. Nathan clearly expected her to simply seduce this person. She had to admit it would be the easiest way, short of putting him to sleep and helping herself. She didn’t have to follow through. Nathan only needed hair. She puffed out her cheeks and moved forward again, the little jingle of the bell sounding as she opened the door. The same man from yesterday sat perched on a stool behind the counter with his book on his knee. He looked up when she entered, his eyebrows lifting slightly in recognition.

  “Forget something?” he asked, letting his book fall shut but keeping his place with his thumb.

  “I didn’t get the chance to properly look around yesterday,” she said with a smile. “It’s not every day you find a shop that sells more than pendulum crystals and Guatemalan worry dolls.”

  “What are you looking for?” He didn’t smile at her or seem inclined to chat, which was inconvenient. She lingered near the front counter and feigned interest in the rows of engraved pendants inside the glass case.

  “Just browsing,” she said, and she bent slightly lower toward the case and peeked up at him. He wasn’t unattractive, but he looked unkempt, hunched, and wary. Nathan had been right about him seeming lonely. “What are the carvings on these necklaces? They’re lovely.”

  “If you don’t know what they are, you don’t need them,” he said bluntly. He shifted on his stool and seemed to make a point of returning to his book.

  “Really,” she laughed, “is that how you treat your customers?”

  “Only the ones who don’t want pendulum crystals.”

  “Well, pretend I’m a mundane, then. These are lovely; what do they mean?” she tried again, lightly tapping the glass with one fingernail.

  “In that case,” he snorted, “they’re Tibetan good luck charms, hand engraved by monks in Nepal, and they’re on sale for $30 a piece.”

  “Are they really good luck charms?”

  “Of course not. But they won’t hurt anyone hanging around some reg’s neck.”

  “That’s something, I suppose.” She straightened and leaned against the counter to keep his attention. “You run this place all by yourself? No one to help you?”

  “It’s hectic, but I get by,” he said dryly, glancing out over the otherwise empty shop. “Can I help you find something, or…?”

  He certainly wasn’t being very cooperative. It didn’t help that she was severely out of practice as far as flirting was concerned. She would have to push slightly harder. “Good luck or not, these are very pretty,” she tried. She looked down into the case and glanced back up at him with what she hoped was an inviting smile. “Which one do you think would look best on me?”

  He stared at her for a moment, his lips turned into a slight frown, and then he set his book face down on the counter and stood to move closer to the case. “Which one do you like?” he asked instead, not taking her bait. “None of them are actually dangerous, reg or not. It won’t matter if you don’t know how to use them.”

  Adelina slid her coat down her shoulders and laid it aside on the counter, her fingertips trailing across her collarbone as she inspected the selection of pendants. “This green stone here; could I try it on?”

  He sighed through his nose but said nothing as he slid open the back of the case. He reached under the counter to take the necklace she’d pointed out and offered it to her, but she smiled at him instead of reaching for it.

  “Oh, I never can work those clasps without looking,” she said. She turned away from him and brushed the ends of her hair away to expose the back of her neck. “Won’t you do it for me?”

  “This isn’t a boutique,” he grumbled, but he stepped out from behind the counter and reached around her to loop the chain around her neck. He had to reach up slightly to fasten it, as she was a bit taller than him. She waited patiently until he was finished before turning to face him, and she leaned purposely close to him on the pretense of looking into the small mirror at the edge of the case. He seemed to tense when her arm brushed the sleeve of his shirt.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, and as she rose, she moved closer to him and tilted her head with a slow smile. “Does it suit me, Mr. Proctor?” When he hesitated to answer, she reached out to slip a hand down his arm, urging his hand up to her neck and letting his fingers brush the skin at her collar on the pretense of inspecting the necklace. “What do you think?”

  He pulled away after only the faintest touch, holding his hand to his stomach as though it had been burned. “Does your boyfriend know you’re here asking someone else’s opinion about your jewelry?”

  “My boyfriend?” She almost laughed, but instead she reached out a hand and ran her fingers suggestively through his mussed hair, teasingly grazing her fingertips over the back of his neck as she leaned in to whisper against his ear, “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

  He pushed her hand from him more forcefully than was really necessary, his brow furrowed in what almost looked like mild panic, and retreated back behind the counter. “If you aren’t going to buy anything, I think you should go,” he said without meeting her eyes.

  She smiled at him, letting out a soft sigh of disappointment, and she reached into her purse with one hand and offered him enough cash to cover the necklace. She hadn’t anticipated such a shy response, and she was almost tempted to tease him a bit more, but she decided not to push her luck. She accepted her change, thanked him politely, and stepped back out into the street, clutching the few strands of his

  hair in her palm. It would have to be enough.

  4

  Nathan had been more than pleased with Adelina’s success, but instead of explaining himself, he had only tucked the procured hairs away in a plastic bag and hidden them in his suitcase for later use. They had more work yet to do, he said.

  They stayed in Toronto for a few weeks, and Adelina was surprised how well-behaved Nathan was for the duration of their stay. He still occasionally came back to the suite drunk and trailing some laughing man o
r woman along behind him, but nothing caught fire, and she didn’t hear any news reports that sounded like his brand of trouble. She was actually able to get out and enjoy the city while he gallivanted around plotting whatever traps he had in store for his chosen Chaser. She had offered to help, and she had accompanied him while he explored museums, parks, and various tourist attractions, but had been left none the wiser as to his actual plans. He seemed content to sightsee with her and buy her trinkets and scarves from Kensington Market. For a brief time, she thought that maybe he would forget having a nemesis, and perhaps they would be able to enjoy themselves without the need for wanton destruction.

  He had still invited her out drinking with him, and he even agreed to avoid starting any fights—at least for that single evening. The hidden bazaar underneath St. Lawrence Market had been easy to get into, since Nathan had simply hidden himself and followed Adelina through the secret passage in the wall. She’d been concerned that the Chaser would recognize her, but apparently she wasn’t yet as famous as her father. He’d let her in without question when she’d spoken the password Mr. Proctor had given them.

  Inside, the market was cramped and humid, filled to bursting with shop stalls selling various spell groundings and ingredients, as well as some more unsavory items. Everything a witch could want seemed to be on sale, whether it was legal or not, and a number of the shops they passed clearly weren’t catering only to human witches. Adelina wondered whether the Chaser at the entrance ever bothered to actually look inside—the Magistrate certainly didn’t appear to be keeping a very close eye on the offerings here. Nathan seemed to have the time of his life exploring it. He used up a fair bit of Adelina’s money gathering curiosities that caught his eye, so that by the time they looked for a place to sit down, his arm was laden with bags.