He offered her a reassuring smile that she half believed. “I’ll be all right. I’m more interested in the kinds of things Nathan has been teaching you.”
“Sorry,” she said immediately. “I’m sworn to secrecy. Bad enough I let you get my book. Nathan hasn’t said much, but he did say that if I showed you anything I know, it would be cheating. Like looking at the other guy’s board in Battleship.”
“Of course he did,” Elton sighed.
Cora smiled at him and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. You know Nathan; he won’t be able to keep up this chase for very long. He’ll want to see you.”
“That isn’t actually very comforting, somehow,” Elton grumbled. Cora laughed and pushed the armrest between them out of the way so that she could settle on his shoulder and shut her eyes. Elton saw Chris’s disapproving stare, but he ignored it. He didn’t know anything about either of them, and whatever he’d already decided about Elton didn’t matter at all. The only thing that mattered was finding Nathan before there was any more pointless death.
When they landed in Toronto, Chris arranged for their rental car, and they dropped their bags in their Magistrate-chosen hotel. It wasn’t quite as cheap as the rooms Elton had been staying in while on the road on his own, but it certainly wasn’t spacious. It would do. Chris had the address for the local Magistrate office, so that was their first stop. As soon as they arrived, they were led into an office where a middle aged, red-haired woman sat at a desk with an open file in front of her.
“Hao and Willis, right?” she asked, briefly rising from her seat to shake their hands. “Angela Stark. And who’s this?” she added with a nod toward Cora.
“She’s our informant,” Chris said. “She’s had recent contact with Moore, and we have reason to believe he will try to contact her again.”
The woman regarded Cora for a moment, clearly taking in her shaved hair and chipped blue fingernails, but she sat back down without objecting. “Well, here’s what we have.” She spun the folder around as the three took their seats, allowing them to see a photo paper-clipped to a printed report. It showed a young man lying on the sidewalk, clearly dead, with a deep wound in his chest from neck to groin. Blood had pooled around him, and his face was slack and wide-eyed.
“Gross,” Cora winced, but she didn’t look away.
“This was last week,” Stark said with a grim frown. “Chaser Robert Park was sent to investigate a disturbance and possible magic exposure near the Danforth, and this is the result. I understand that your office in Vancouver received a package believed to be from Nathaniel Moore shortly after that.”
“That’s right,” Chris answered. “Do you have any leads as to his whereabouts?”
“It’s been completely quiet since then,” Stark said through a tight jaw. “We’ve had a few standard incidents, but nothing that would give us any reason to blame Moore. He may have moved on already.”
“No,” Elton said. “He’s waiting for me. He wouldn’t leave.”
“Well, lucky us,” Stark murmured, but she was cut off by a hasty knock just before her office door opened.
“Ms. Stark,” the young man said, and she waved him inside and accepted the envelope he offered her. “This just arrived; I think you’re going to want to see it.”
The woman frowned and waved him away as she opened the letter. Her eyes narrowed as she skimmed the page, and then she sat up in her chair and held the paper out over her desk to Elton. “I think this is for you.”
“Me?” Elton took the letter and held it open to read it while Cora leaned on his shoulder to look.
Elton,
Welcome to Toronto. I’ve arranged for a welcome present for you. Underneath the St. Lawrence Market, there is a hidden place. A secret place where our kind can trade wares and speak openly. There is a man there named Crawford who runs a shop where an item has been left on hold for you. See you soon.
xoxo,
Nathan
Elton frowned down at the paper in his hand, but Cora was laughing.
“Oh my god, he left you a clue!”
Elton didn’t answer her. He paused and brought the paper to his nose. It smelled faintly of citrus, and maybe bergamot. Cora leaned down closer to him to sniff at it.
“That’s his cologne,” she said with a giddy smile, and Elton sighed through his nose.
“I know.”
Chris frowned across at them and snatched the paper from Elton’s hand. “Where’s the St. Lawrence Market?”
Stark leaned her elbows on her desk. “I’ll give you the address. Do you want any backup?”
“No,” Elton said immediately. “The more people we involve, the more people we put in danger. He asked for me, and anyone else will be expendable. We can handle it.”
“If you’re sure.”
Elton paused, pressed his lips together, and stared over at the letter, and then he stood and moved toward the door without a word.
“Willis,” Chris called after him, and Cora trotted out of the office right behind. Elton walked swiftly through the office and out the front door, his worn willow token already in his hand. If that message had just been delivered, then Nathan must be nearby. He must have been watching the office and waiting for them to arrive. He whispered to himself as he turned the token in his fingers, scanning the bustling street for signs of magic, but there was too much pressure from the building behind him for him to get a clear reading. His shoulders slumped slightly. Cora touched his sleeve, and he glanced down at her.
“Is he here?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, but Elton shook his head.
“I can’t tell for sure.”
She looked up and down the street with a disappointment frown. “So, we’re going to this market then?”
“Moore is playing games,” Chris spoke up from behind them. “But if you think he’ll be there, then we need to go.”
“It’s our only lead,” Elton agreed. He looked down at the letter Chris handed him with excitement beginning to thump in his chest. This was what he had wanted all along. A real chase. Nathaniel Moore within his reach.
They climbed into the rental car, and as soon as Chris turned the ignition, the radio skipped through a few stations of static and blips of commercials before landing on a slow, new wave keyboard melody and a woman’s longing voice.
I’ve been lonely…I’ve been waiting for you…
I’m pretending, and that’s all I can do…
“What the hell?” Chris snorted, but Elton reached out a hand to stop him from turning it off.
You’ve been hiding…never letting it show…
Always trying…to keep it under control…
Elton’s jaw tightened, and he opened the car door to stand back on the sidewalk, searching the crowd of people walking by. The willow in his pocket was lifeless, showing no response to the seeking spell he whispered. He cursed and looked over when Chris tapped the top of the car to get his attention. The other man was leaning against the roof with a questioning look while the radio continued to blare “What About Love” from inside.
“It’s Nathan,” Elton snapped. “He is here. Somewhere.”
“What?” Chris straightened and looked around as though he might see something Elton hadn’t, but Elton was already slumping back into the car with a frustrated snort. Chris bent down to stare at him through the open door. “Are you kidding?”
“He’s taunting me.”
Chris frowned as he climbed back into the driver’s seat. “By…playing you a love song?”
“Trust me,” Elton sighed while Cora laughed behind him. “He thinks this is hilarious.”
“At least you know he missed you,” Cora offered, but Elton only sighed through his nose and kept watch out the car window while Chris tried in vain to turn the volume down.
7
Chris parked in a lot just down the street from the market, and the three of them made their way inside with the crowd. Cora drifted slightly at the smell of cooking crepes,
but Elton tugged on her sleeve and kept her walking.
“There must be a basement here, like at Granville Island back home,” Elton said as he scanned the broad corridors. “But this seems too simple. We need to be on our guard, and you,” he added with a pointed glance at Cora, “need to stay close at hand. No wandering off. And if you see anything suspicious, you don’t go looking, you tell us right away. Right?”
“Right,” she agreed, but Elton knew better than to believe she wouldn’t take off running if she happened to spot Nathan before they did.
They wandered the bottom floor of the market, taking their time and looking between stalls until they came upon a man leaning against a wall near a quiet back corner, and Elton nudged Chris with his elbow and nodded toward the silver ring visible on the man’s right hand. The man looked up from his phone when they approached and gave them a quick glance up and down.
“Afternoon,” he said as he pushed away from the wall.
Chris held out his hand to make his own ring clearly visible. “Chris Hao. This is Elton Willis. We’re out of Vancouver. The girl is Cora Daniels—she’s a guest. Looking for a place to do some shopping.”
The man shook Chris’s hand, but his eyes didn’t leave Elton’s face. “Willis, huh?” he murmured. He looked back down at his phone and flicked his thumb across the screen. “Nope; no can do. You’re on the list, Willis.”
Elton frowned. “What list?”
“The no-entry list. Straight from up top as of yesterday. You’re on probation, and the Magister doesn’t want you getting into places where you can make trouble.”
“You’re joking,” Elton scoffed. “Stark might have mentioned.” Chris reached out to tap Elton’s arm with his knuckles.
“Give him some money,” he said.
“What?”
“Money. He’ll let you in.”
Elton’s lip curled as he turned back to the man by the wall, who shrugged and smiled blithely at him. “What’s the point of having a guard, then,” he muttered under his breath, and he took his wallet from his pocket and passed the man a $50 bill. As soon as it was in his hand, the other man reached out behind him and touched the wall with a softly spoken word, revealing a doorway to a dark staircase.
“Nice,” Cora grumbled as they passed. She frowned up at the guard. “Real nice. Real straight-shooter.”
“Don’t complain,” Chris said, nudging her forward by her shoulder. “We got what we needed.”
They walked down the stairs and into a far grungier part of the market. It was dim and crowded and dirty, with booths and shops piled on top of each other and men and women chatting and laughing as they sat at an open bar. Cora stuck a little closer to Elton’s side, though she did lean around him to get a better look as they passed a stall stacked high with skulls and jars of sticky-looking animal parts.
“On the lookout for gifts?” Elton asked, and she smirked up at him without answering. Chris was ahead of them, asking the shopkeepers they passed if they knew Crawford, and soon he looked over his shoulder and waved to Elton and Cora to follow him.
Crawford’s stall was small and cramped, and the table looked inexplicably sticky. Crawford himself was definitely not human— he was pudgy, white-haired, and squinty, but his skin was a dull and grimy green, his pointed ears long and low on his head. He scratched at a bit of crust on his face with thick, yellowed nails and wiped his hands on his filthy apron as the three of them drew close. Cora didn’t know if the word “goblin” was considered a slur or not, but if she hadn’t known any better, she would definitely have called Crawford a goblin.
“Crawford?” Chris said, leaning over the table to make sure the creature could hear him through the noise.
“That’s me,” he answered in a voice that somehow sounded like he hadn’t brushed his teeth. “What are you gentlemen looking for? Oh—gentlemen and lady, excuse me,” he added with a crooked grin in Cora’s direction. She tried to smile but was certain it looked more like a grimace.
“We were sent to you,” Elton explained. “By a mutual friend. I’m supposed to pick something up.”
“Ah, it’s you, is it?” Crawford cackled. “He said you would be by.” The goblin struggled to turn his plump body around in the limited space behind his table, but he bent down and jostled a few things around underneath, eventually reappearing with a shoebox-sized wooden chest in his wrinkled hands. “Now, normally I don’t just hold onto things, you know,” he pointed out, still holding the box close to his chest. “This was a special favor. Now this was paid for, but it has just been sitting here taking up space in my shop.”
“You want to be compensated?” Elton said with a faint curl of his lip.
“I am running a business, Mr. Chaser.”
“Of course.”
“Does everyone around here run entirely on bribes?” Cora sighed, folding her arms across her chest.
Elton kept his eyes on Crawford. “How much do you want?”
“Oh, I’m just trying to be fair, Mr. Chaser,” the old man said, and Elton held up an impatient hand to stop his justification.
“How much?”
The man eyed Elton’s long coat and his neatly dimpled tie, worrying his bottom lip in his crooked teeth as he considered. Elton could see the rusted gears turning in the shopkeeper’s head. “Oh,” he finally said, “I suppose a hundred would be fair, wouldn’t you, Mr. Chaser?”
“Fair? With water hemlock in that pot behind you?” Elton asked, lifting his eyebrows toward a plant on the shelf behind the other man that was blooming with clusters of delicate white flowers.
“Just a bit of gardening, you understand,” Crawford grinned. “Nothing harmful about a plant, is there?”
“It’s a poison, and it’s banned,” Elton answered simply.
“I can hardly be said to be poisoning people, can I? I just sell a pretty potted plant, Mr. Chaser,” the old creature sneered. “What anyone does with it once they buy it is out of my hands.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Crawford. I could shut down this whole shithole you call a shop.”
“Now, now,” he said in a rush, huffing as he pulled up the sagging belt underneath his gut. “There’s no need to be rash.”
“How about you give me what I came for, and in return, I won’t drag you into a private cell and leave you there to think over the wisdom of trying to screw over a Chaser? You look like you could stand to skip a few meals.”
“No cause for that, Mr. Chaser,” Crawford grumbled. “Deal’s a deal, after all.” He offered Elton the small chest, digging in his pocket as he glared up at the taller man. He passed Elton a rumpled envelope that smelled sour, and the Chaser held the chest under one arm and turned Cora by her shoulder to urge her away ahead of him.
“What a total creep,” she muttered. “He said straight out that Nathan paid for it already.”
“People will get whatever they can get,” Chris said as he shouldered his way by a group of people lingering in front of a stall.
“And you’re just gonna let him off? Isn’t it, you know, literally your only job to keep witches from doing illegal shit?”
“He’s not our problem right now,” Chris said, “and he isn’t actually poisoning anyone just by having it.”
“So you’d rather wait for someone to actually die before you do anything about it? How are you okay with this?” she asked as they passed the guard at the entrance, prodding Elton in the arm. “You guys are going to report him or something, right?”
“This is how it’s always been,” Elton shrugged. Neither he nor Chris showed any sign of stopping on the way out.
“We can report him,” Chris added, “but he wasn’t exactly keeping a low profile. Chances are somebody at the Magistrate already knows about him. They probably get a cut. In the scheme of things, a guy selling some plants isn’t that big a deal.”
“Jesus Christ,” Cora laughed. “No wonder nobody trusts you guys.”
Elton lagged behind them, taking slow steps as he op
ened the newest envelope.
This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d–see here it is–
I hold it towards you.
-John Keats, 1819
Do you read a lot, Elton? Toronto has a beautiful library. You would like Keats, I think. Make some time for yourself.
Yours,
Nathan
P.S. Don’t open the box.
He frowned down at the paper as he slowed to a stop. “Don’t open the box” meant that Elton most definitely should open the box. He didn’t like the thought of keeping something with him that Nathan had clearly charmed in some way—especially when it looked so distressingly similar to the curse box he had used to bind the lich back in Yuma. He looked up when Cora called back to him and walked swiftly to catch up with his companions.
“I think he wants us to go to a library next, or a bookstore,” Elton said in answer to their questioning looks. “He’s not subtle. Probably whichever library is the biggest.” He offered the letter to Chris and waited while he scanned it. When he looked up, he stared at Elton with a suspiciously curled lip.
“You’re sure you and Moore didn’t have anything going on,” he said, not really asking a question.
“This is just how he is,” Elton sighed.
“This is like a scavenger hunt!” Cora laughed. “This is the best. Where’s the library?” She shook Elton by his sleeve.
“You really want to play his games?” Chris said with a sneer. “He’s jerking us around. We should forget this and try to find him the usual way. The Magistrate must have some kind of lead.”
Elton shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “If we don’t play his game, we’ll never find him. If he thinks we’re too close, he’ll disappear, and we’ll have to start over again somewhere else. He’ll kill someone else to lure me there.”
The Left-Hand Path: Runaway Page 6