by Charley Case
“What the fuck?” Mila said again, her brow rising. “I thought he was going to open a door or something.”
“He will. Probably just needs to get there. He sounded old,” Finn said, defending the creature.
Mila cocked her head up at him. “How could you tell?”
Finn shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a feeling.”
Before she could say more, the wall suddenly started sprouting bubbles.
Mila gasped. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s magic,” Finn said, pulling out the box of Charleston Chews she’d given him at her office and offering her one. She didn’t even seem to notice, but Penny tapped him on the head rather insistently until he handed her one. He tossed a few in his mouth, then put the box away and watched the show.
The bubbles at first seemed to be random, but it soon became apparent that they were forming an arched passage. Quicker and quicker, the bubbles appeared, until they were coming so fast that Finn couldn’t follow them. When the last bubble took its place in the arch, the space inside went black as the bricks faded from existence and were replaced by steps leading down. Electric sconces lined the brick walls. A quick glance showed no sign of the large-feline-eyed doorman anywhere.
“Shall we?” Finn offered his arm, and Mila slipped hers into it, her jaw open and her wide eyes blinking slowly.
He led her through the arch and down the first couple of steps.
“Just so you know, this magic is way better than your axe.”
Penny snickered, puffing smoke rings in her mirth.
“I didn’t want to start you off with the big stuff.” Finn gave Penny a sideways look. “Besides, Fragar is a much more powerful bit of magic than this whole passage. Stick with Penny and me long enough, and you’ll see some stuff that makes your toes curl.”
They descended slowly, letting Mila take in the changes. Finn had seen places like this in his time, but he appreciated the detail the creator had put into it. Each step was like taking a step back in time. The steps started out as regular old concrete, with electric lights on the brick walls. Ten steps later, the floor was covered in tiles that looked like they were from the fifties, and the electric lights dimmed with sconces that looked like they were from the twenties. Every ten steps, the materials and technology changed to some older version, until they were walking down stone steps with flaming torches on the wall.
The last section, however, made Mila gasp.
The steps were still cut stone, though a uniform design, but the wall lights were what held her focus. The sconces were now obviously of a magical nature. Blue wisps of smoke rose from the bright, constant light held in golden cages that floated independent of the wall.
Finn smiled at her reaction. He and Penny were used to this level of casual magic, but he had to admit it would probably freak him out just if he had found out magic was real only an hour or two before.
The opening at the bottom of the steps spilled warm bright light into the stairwell, and then came the sounds of people conducting business. As they stepped off the final step, Mila’s eyes were wide and swiveling, trying to look at everything at once.
This was Finn’s and Penny’s kind of place. Tightly packed booths, along with the smell of grilling meats and spices so exotic they were one of a kind. Finn’s dwarven nature told him they were exactly one hundred feet below the surface streets, and the old-style construction of the cavernous room fit with that instinct. The ceiling was a series of arches made of stone and handmade brick, painted white, that soared two stories high. The market filled every corner of the large space, leaving narrow lanes between tents and small wooden booths. Finn could see several tunnels that entered the market, but the staircase seemed to be the only direct way back to the surface.
Then there were the people.
Elves, trolls, goblins, and, surprisingly, Peabrains made up the majority of the customers, but there were plenty of examples of rarer species haggling and selling wares. This was a place where Magicals could be who they were without fear of being discovered, so no one used a concealment spell, giving Mila the full experience.
“This is unbelievable,” she said, scanning the bustling crowds. “This has been just a few blocks from my house the entire time?”
“There are usually a few of these in every city. Especially if the city is full of Nonmagicals. Come on, we need to find a Huldu.” Finn pulled her into one of the aisles and wove his way through the crowd. He stopped at a booth run by a young-faced wood elf.
She smiled and brushed brown hair over her shoulder. “What can I help you with, sir?” Her smile faltered a little when she realized he was a dwarf. “Oh my. I thought there weren’t any more dwarves on Earth. Welcome!”
Finn laid on the charm. “Well, hello there. This is quite the booth you have.” He fingered a few dried flowers that hung in bunches. She was selling reagents for potions, and the smell of the fragrant ingredients overpowered even the smells of cooking meats from the street vendors. “I’m pretty new in town and could use a little help. I’m looking for a Huldu to make a deal with.”
She grinned. “I can help you out. For a price.”
Finn nodded. Turned out, every world worked the same, even the ones lost in space for time immemorial.
“I have a little coin.”
The elf glanced at Penny and jutted her chin. “I was thinking something a little simpler. Maybe some saliva from your faerie dragon friend?”
Penny narrowed her eyes. Spit from a dragon was a powerful reagent, but from a faerie dragon, it was even more so, considering how rare they were. Penny dug one claw into his shoulder, one of their shorthand signs that she agreed, regardless of what her face said. It was a good way to keep negotiations going.
“We can do that, but in exchange, I’ll need you to throw in a few healing potions,” he said, spying the rack of pre-made stock she had on a small shelf in the back.
“Deal.” She quickly grabbed a paper bag and began wrapping test-tube-style vials to keep the glass from clinking together.
“Did you say ‘healing potions?’” Mila asked quietly, standing very close to Finn to keep the aisle clear. “Like, you drink it and, what? You just heal?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “It’s like magic.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re hilarious.”
The elf turned back around, having wrapped four vials and stuffed them in the bag. She produced a small empty glass bottle and handed it to Penny, who took it in her front hands and sat on her haunches. Finn watched the dragon work up a good wad of spit before stuffing her muzzle in the bottle’s opening and letting it dribble out.
It was a little gross, and Finn decided he didn’t need to watch from such a close distance.
“So, you know where I can find a Huldu?” Finn asked, snapping the elf’s attention away from Penny.
“I can do you one better. I’ll send a message and have them come meet you here. Should only take them twenty minutes or so. Their station is close.”
“Sounds good.”
Penny held out the small stoppered bottle, now half-full of bubbly saliva. The elf reached for it, but Finn grabbed it first.
“I’ll take the potions now, and leave the saliva here.”
He lifted the bottle over his head and, with his finger, drew a few quick runes that glowed softly with purple magic. He set the bottle down, and there was a very dim flash of purple light from under it.
“I’ve sealed the bottle to the table. As soon as the Huldu show up, I’ll release it. Insurance, you understand.”
The elf woman gave him a sly smile. “I can live with that. Come back in twenty minutes. I’m sure the Huldu will want to talk to you.”
Finn held up the paper bag in salute. “Pleasure doing business with you. See you in a bit.”
He led Mila away from the booth and moved deeper into the market.
“What was that?” Mila asked. “The thing you did with the bottle.”
“Oh, that’s just a simple holdi
ng spell. It’s called rune magic. Only dwarves practice it. It has varying degrees of potency, all based on handwriting, and the amount of energy the writer channels into the glyph.”
“So that bottle will just stay stuck to the table until you release it?” She glanced to their right and saw a stall selling roasting meat on a stick.
“No, I didn’t really power that one all that much. It was more of a formality. I’m guessing the magic will wear off in about twenty or thirty minutes. That whole thing was for later interactions with her.” He shook the bag with the healing potions in it. “Her potions looked particularly good, and if I’m honest, I can go through quite a few of them. It would be good to have a dealer I can trust.”
“Can we get some of that?” She pointed at the meat on a stick. “It smells amazing.”
Penny clapped her hands excitedly. “Chi, chi!”
“I know you’re hungry, Penny. You’re always hungry.” He laughed and turned toward the stand. “Sure, let’s do it. I could stand to eat as well.”
The person tending the cart was a tall, gray-skinned mountain troll with short tusks protruding from his bottom lip and continuing just past his top lip.
“A fuckin’ dwarf. Didn’t we wipe you out? I thought all you bastards were dead ages ago,” he rumbled in a gravelly voice.
“I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” Finn joked, not rising to the bait. “I’m neutral in the whole conflict. Too much to do to worry about who said what to who a few thousand years ago. Today, I would just like to purchase some of your delicious meats. My friend here has never had Skak, and I said yours was some of the best smelling seasoning I’ve ever come across.”
The troll stood a little straighter and showed a flicker of a smile. “It’s me dear ol’ gran’s recipe. Brought it all the way from the old world, she did.”
“Well, it smells delicious. How much can I get for a half-Thul?” Finn asked, tucking the bag of potions in his jacket pocket with one hand and fishing in his pants pocket with the other.
He pulled out a small handful of silver balls of various sizes, each with a tiny runes stamped into them. He fished out a medium-sized ball and held it out.
The troll’s eyebrows rose, and he reached out to grasp the dense metal in his meaty fingers. “I haven’t seen a Thul in ages. My great-grandfather had some that were passed down to him, but the family sold them ages ago. You know we don’t use these for money anymore. Where the fuck you from, dwarf?”
“Oh, I just have a pretty good stash that my family kept,” Finn said, backpedaling. “What do you take, then?”
The troll shrugged. “Local currency, mostly. Bartering when it’s an unusual item.”
“Oh, well. I don’t have any local currency. Just got into town, you know how it goes.”
The troll nodded. “It’s fine. I’ll take it. Mind you, this is worth quite a bit, so pick whatever you want.” He waved a hand over the cart and its many selections.
“Excellent! Ladies? What will you have?” Finn glanced at Penny and Mila. Mila was staring at the troll and not paying attention.
Penny, on the other hand, was on it. Her taloned pointer finger began jabbing at different cuts. “Chi, chi, shrip, shir, chi…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a second. “Chi, shi.”
The troll most likely hadn’t understood her words, but her finger had done most of the talking, and he quickly piled her selections into a paper basket and handed it to Finn.
“Tell you what, just give Mila and me a couple of your favorites. Can’t go wrong with the cook’s selections, I always say.”
The troll smiled, revealing yellow teeth, and began piling up two more paper baskets. Finn thanked him, and they found a small area set up with tables for patrons of the several food carts in the vicinity. They sat down next to a couple of witches, who were leaning together and looking at a phone and laughing.
Mila seemed to be coping pretty well, all things considered. She glanced around at the tables full of various races that, up until an hour ago, she had thought were nothing but the works of fantasy writers.
Finn took a bite of the juicy meat, letting the exotic spices linger while he slowly chewed. Skak was one of his favorite street foods, and it was pretty hard for him to find, considering it was traditionally a troll food.
“What was the deal with that troll, by the way? He didn’t seem to like you very much at first.” Mila asked, taking a bite, her eyes going wide as a moan of pleasure hummed out of her. “Holy shit, this is amazing.” She stopped chewing, and a look of horror crossed her face. “This isn’t, like, rat or something gross, is it?”
Finn laughed. “No, it’s beef. Well, the one you’re holding is. That one is lamb, and that one is buffalo.”
“Good. I would hate to suddenly become addicted to rat. That’s not something you can easily explain to your friends.” She took another bite and rolled her eyes in pleasure. “This is so good. It’s like if curry and fried finger steaks had a baby, then that baby figured out soy sauce.”
Penny was nearly halfway through her basket, and showing no signs of stopping. Finn knew a few of his skewers were going to disappear to her sneaky fingers before they were done.
“To answer your first question, us dwarves and trolls haven’t exactly seen eye to eye for a very long time.” He took another bite and thought about how to put it best. “A misunderstanding happened a long time ago, and it sort of turned into a war. It’s been going on for a few thousand years, and it makes things a little dicey when we interact. I’ve declared myself neutral, and have no intention of keeping the stupid conflict going. At this point, though, it’s nearly ingrained in all dwarves and trolls from birth.”
“You seemed to handle that pretty well back there. I thought he was going to kick you out at first.”
Finn shrugged. “I’ve had to get good at smoothing over hostile interactions. Being a dwarf can be a hassle when dealing with other races.”
“Yeah, but being a prince probably helps quite a bit.” Mila smiled, finishing a skewer and moving on to the next.
Finn sighed. “You would think so, but usually, it just means I have a bigger target on my back.”
Chapter Eleven
Twenty minutes and several meat skewers later, they made their way back toward the elf’s booth.
“What is a Huldu, exactly?” Mila asked. Now that she had some food in her, she seemed to be taking the whole experience in stride, which impressed Finn quite a bit.
“They’re gnomes.”
“Gnomes? Like, the little guys with the red hats?” Mila cocked her head.
“What? No. Well, I guess they could wear red hats, but they aren’t particularly known for that. The Huldu are the mechanics of the ship. They take care of all the systems, but especially the engines.”
Mila’s disbelief was written across her face. “Earth has engines?”
“Yeah. Organicum Industria Core engines. They were the most powerful engines ever created and were the catalyst for the design and construction of the terrestrial-class supercruisers like Earth. Very expensive, though, so only six were ever made.” He pointed down the aisle. “Looks like our elf friend came through for us.”
Standing beside the booth with the elf woman were two short, old-looking men with rather large heads. They had on brown jumpsuits that looked like they had been covered in grease, then washed in more grease. They were talking to each other excitedly and didn’t see them approaching.
Finn stepped up and towered over both of them. Mila was about the same height, maybe an inch or two shorter, but her confidence had returned after their meal in this alien place, and she naturally adopted a power pose that gave her gravitas. The two gnomes took a step back at the sudden appearance, then their eyes went wide.
“Holy shit. You really are a dwarf!” the first one said.
The second leaned to the side and looked up at his rune tattoos. “And a royal to boot.”
The first smiled, showing bright white teeth that
contrasted with his grease-stained skin. He put out a hand. “I’m Garret, and this is my partner Hermin. Boy, are we glad to see you.”
“Hello, Garret. Hermin.” He shook both hands, giving them nods. “I’m Finnegan, and this is my partner Penny. This lovely young woman is Mila. It’s a pleasure to meet a couple of the fellows who have kept this beast running well past her decommission date. Well done, sirs.”
The two gnomes looked at one another, then Hermin spoke up. “Well, ‘running’ is a relative term. The Elemental fixed her up for now, but the work is never really done. Speaking of, if you’re here on Earth, that means you have a ship, right?”
Finn waggled his hand. “Sort of. I have one, but it crashed, and I need some parts to get her running again. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He dug the list of parts from his pants pocket and handed it to Garret. Both Huldu leaned in and read down the list.
Garret began nodding. “I think we can get you what you need. You’re flying an asteroid-class, then?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bare-bones, but the ol’ Anthem gets the job done. Mostly,” he added, considering the ship was currently in pieces on the side of a mountain.
“It’ll take us a few days to get the parts, and they won’t come cheap.” Hermin’s eyes twinkled. “We have a leaking magma valve under Yellowstone that we need to shut off soon, or the whole thing might blow again.” That made Mila stiffen, and Hermin waved away her concern. “Don’t worry, lass. We can contain it if we need to, but it’s going to be a hell of a job. If we had one of those handy dwarven artifacts to protect us, it would make the job a whole lot easier.”
Finn frowned. “Aren’t the truly powerful artifacts still in storage?”
Garret and Hermin both barked a laugh. “Those were raided and emptied out long ago,” Hermin explained. “A faction of us decided they knew better and tried to take things into their own hands. They call themselves the Kashgar, the tall bastards.” It sounded like the “tall” in “tall bastards” was more the curse than the other way around.
“Kashgar?” Finn raised an eyebrow. He had never heard of such a group.