by A. D. Winter
I was ready to give up when I saw a mischievous grin stretching across the old man’s face.
“Which is exactly why I brought him,” he said.
9
Ivy
I winced as Igama dug the knife into my wrist.
“You want to explain this to me one more time?” I said.
“When the cells were built, they were enchanted by William the Quiet, an eccentric wizard who took great satisfaction in torturing his victims with puzzles. It was his opinion that there was nothing more amusing or wicked than trapping a prisoner for an eternity with a charm that was actually quite simple to break.”
“What a jerk,” I said.
“Indeed.”
“And taking my blood is going to fix that?”
“Partly,” he said.
“Partly?” I echoed.
“Well, first you need to die.”
“Die?”
“Only for a bit,” he assured me. “The herbs I had you drink beforehand will keep you alive after all of your blood has leaked out.”
“And then what?” I asked, already feeling myself growing dizzy. “You’ll restore my blood again?”
“Of course,” he said. “At least … I hope so.”
“Igama!”
“The blood I give you will be enough to get you out of here on your own two feet. From then on, it’ll take some time to replenish itself. But you’ll be all right. I promise.”
“I’d better be,” I said, noticing the blood pooling around my feet. “Because I’m starting to have my doubts.”
When Igama was done, he pulled the knife from my wrist and nodded. “There, that should be enough.”
I glanced at the bars of my cell, and they suddenly swung opened.
Worried, I looked to Igama. “I can leave now?”
“I believe so, yes.”
At first I hesitated. The thought of suddenly dying was frightening. But so was staying in this accursed cell. So I took another step, and when nothing happened, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank the goddess.” I fell into Igama’s arms, exhausted from the blood loss.
“We have to hurry,” he said.
He rested me against the wall of the hallway, then dragged the man who’d been lying against the wall this entire time into the cell. When he pulled back the man’s hood, I saw a thin face with long hair. “He’s a prisoner?” I asked.
“A murderer,” he corrected. “I bled him as well, promising him that I would help him escape. But don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
“You mean to tell me you took a total stranger and killed him … for me?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll try to save him before it’s too late.”
“You’re such a nice person, Igama.”
Igama hurried as he stripped the robe from the man’s body. Underneath was an inquisitor’s jacket just like mine. I guessed it was to throw the guards off when they returned.
Igama then turned the man’s face to the wall, letting his long hair conceal his face. “An extra precaution,” he said, and tugged the brim of the hood over my face.
I gave him a thumbs-up.
When he was done, he guided me out into the stairway. It took a moment for me to get my bearings, but after a while, I began to walk on my own.
“What about the guards?” I asked, barely able to keep my eyes open.
“I released one of the half-giants on the tenth floor,” Igama replied with a mischievous grin. “Trust me, they’ll be busy for a while.”
I laughed softly to myself. “You naughty shaman, you.”
“Come on, let’s go!”
I struggled up the steps of the stairway, using Igama as a crutch. As we passed by the lunatics in their cells, I was barraged by a flurry of curses. They were definitely not happy that I was leaving them. Poor guys. I met their insults with a dazed smile, waving them my goodbyes. “I’ll miss you too!” I called out.
When we finally reached the top of the stairs, Igama dragged me to the side. “You need to pull yourself together, Ivy.”
“You do know that I’m dead, right?”
He gripped me by the arms and stared into my eyes. “I’m serious, Ivy. The next couple of steps may be your most important. Can you pull yourself together? One last time?”
I gazed into his face, realizing what a strong nose he had.
“Ivy?”
“Huh?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you.” I wrenched free of his grip and turned to the door, huffing the brim of my hood from my face. “I’ve been walking since I was a bicycle. Now shut up and write the booth, Mr. Tiger.”
The walk across the entrance to the cells was short, but it might as well have been a mile long. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, checking to see if I’d been noticed.
Garlock looked up from his paperwork and frowned. “Hold on a second,” he said.
Rats!
“Weren’t you alone when you came in, Igama?” Garlock asked.
Igama was about to answer when the door behind us flew opened and one of the guards appeared. “Notify the wizards,” the guard said. “There’s a half-giant on the tenth floor.”
Garlock’s eyes flickered between us and the guard. He didn’t believe Igama, I knew, but he couldn’t ignore the half-giant either. If it got out of hand, the cells could be compromised, and his problem would go from one shaman to an overrun Tower.
With a growl, he looked away and rushed into the back, calling out to the other guardsmen.
“Hurry,” Igama whispered, yanking me forward. “We haven’t much time.”
We raced out of the lobby and up the stairs, my legs barely moving on adrenaline. When we reached the top, he led me toward the back, where he ushered me through the doors and into the alley. Once outside, he handed me the rest of the herbs he’d promised, and I quickly tossed them back.
“Don’t forget this.” He shoved a bag of coin into my hand.
“What’s this for?” I asked, noting how heavy it was.
“Bribes,” he said. “You’ll need them when you get to where you’re going. Warlocks, you’ll find, are difficult to locate.”
“Where I’m going?” I asked. “I don’t even have a lead.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “Look in your hand.”
I glanced down at the purple vial, its image just a fuzzy outline. “The potion?”
“It could’ve only come from one place,” he said.
“And where’s that?” I asked.
“Why, the most dangerous part of the city, of course.”
10
Ivy
It was close to morning when I reached the Forgotten Quarter.
It would’ve been earlier, but with all the blood that I’d lost in the cells, I had to take a couple of breaks along the way. Still, I needed to hurry. I only had twenty-four hours to prove my innocence. And the first step was hunting down this warlock.
The Forgotten Quarter was a grimy world of bedlam, a place where every outcast, criminal, and two-bit wizard could peddle their expertise to the highest bidder. Everything you wanted was here. Illegal potions. Magical weapons. Heck, they even had electronics smuggled in from the human world. It was my kind of place.
Desperate for energy, I searched for the nearest coffee shop. I stood in line, taking in the delicious scent of roasted coffee as machines smuggled in from the human world steamed and hissed.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a triple espresso with fairy cream and some black cinnamon from Hispala, along with a chocolate chip muffin sprinkled with caramel shavings from Nouvelle Lumière.
I devoured the cake, washed it down with my drink, then headed back into the street.
Somewhere among the crowd, a beat-up speaker was playing music. It was “Closer” by Nine In
ch Nails. One of their best. I’d learned about the group on my first mission into the human world. They’d been my favorite ever since.
Faces watched me from the crowded sidewalks as I strode up the street. They stared at me with menacing eyes, their cracked hands slithering toward the weapons hidden beneath their coats.
But I ignored them. I wasn’t an inquisitor anymore, and I didn’t have the time nor the weapons to deal with them.
But there was one figure that caught my eye.
From the darkness of the alley, I saw a pair of blue eyes glowing in the night. They watched me with starving intent, like the wolves I’d seen in the High North. My heart began to race, and I was suddenly aware of how defenseless I was. Yanking the hood of my jacket over my head, I turned away. When I looked again, they were gone.
Danu help me.
I hurried up the street, hoping to go unnoticed. But I quickly learned that I wasn’t so lucky.
On the corner of the street was a group of dark figures. They crowded around a trash can filled with fire, trying to warm themselves against the bitter cold. Looking closer, I saw what they were. Orcs dressed in baggy jeans and oversize jackets. But in the background loomed a monster.
I clutched my robe as I glared at the troll. He was a frightening sight, at least seven feet tall, with curved tusks for teeth. And his blue skin was tattooed with a plethora of magical spirits that vibrated with a menacing green glow whenever they sensed danger. They flashed when he saw me, then dimmed as he looked away.
I lowered my gaze and sped by them. The last thing I needed was to start a fight that I couldn’t win, so I kept my head down and moved on.
When I reached the end of the street, I stopped to look back. They were looking the other way.
That was a close one.
Up ahead I heard the sounds of bargaining and knew that I’d reached my destination.
Little Spell was the heart of the quarter, a slim street that stretched for a mile between rows of apartment buildings. It reminded me of the farmers markets from the human world, only not as safe, and definitely not as honest.
It was said that anyone could find whatever they wanted in the Spell. All you had to do was bring a sack of gold and the deed to your soul, and your deepest wishes could be fulfilled. Sadly, there were many who did.
I strolled through the bustling throng of customers, studying the kiosks that lined the street. Everywhere I looked, I saw witches and wizards peddling their wares, promising great things for only a couple of coins.
“Make yourself beautiful!” a wizard called out.
“Make yourself thinner!” another yelled.
They were all so wickedly charming and slimy, desperate to catch my attention.
“Missing that special man?” a woman yelled.
I turned around to find a middle-aged woman with dark hair and olive skin. Her eyes glowed blue with power, and I felt the chilling breeze of magic in the air.
It was a witch—and a powerful one at that.
She waved me over, and I saw that she was holding something in her right hand. When she opened her palm, a tiny butterfly sprang into the air, flapping its yellow wings around my face.
Dust sparkled in its wake, and I felt a comforting warmth along my cheeks. When the witch held up a mirror, I saw a healthy glow on my skin.
“I have an entire kaleidoscope,” the witch said, hefting a large cage of butterflies from beneath her counter. “Only a couple of coins, and you can have them just in time for the anniversary celebration.”
“What celebration?” I asked.
“The Battle of Soiled Ground?”
I shut my eyes, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course. The battle that had ended the Dark Uprising and sentenced the Minstrel of Woe to an eternal prison. I’d been so consumed with my own ordeal that I’d completely forgotten.
“Think about it,” the witch continued. “All the pretty little children standing around the great fountain, waiting to hold hands, as you stand there looking beautiful.”
“I’m not here for that,” I said.
“What are you here for, then?” She leaned across the table and shot me a wink. “A man?”
“A potion maker.” I showed her the vial that I’d been keeping in my pocket, and she shrank away faster than a rat on an orc ship.
“Why would you bring that here?” Her gaze shifted nervously down the street, checking to see if she was being watched. “I only sell love potions. That’s all.”
“So you know what it is?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “Death—for anyone connected to it.”
“If you know something, you’re bound to tell me.” I parted my robe to reveal my uniform.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied my jacket. “If the Order wants to investigate the Thorns, they should know better than to send just one inquisitor.”
“Where are they?” I demanded.
“I already told you,” she said. “I want no part in this. Now leave.” She stepped back, drew the curtains of her stand, and disappeared.
After a moment, I ventured a word. “Hello?”
“I’m on a bathroom break,” the witch replied. “Now go away.”
Rats.
The Thorns had everyone frightened. How was I going to get the answers I needed?
I checked the timepiece on my wrist. It had already been a couple of hours since Barton had signed my excommunication. I needed to hurry. I needed to find the warlock.
I was just about to turn away when I felt something watching me from behind. I glanced over my shoulder and studied the street. There were creatures of all sorts, buying and selling. But nothing else. What was that?
As quickly as I could, I ducked into a nearby alley. It was dark and empty. I pressed my back against the wall and waited. Whatever this thing was, it was bound to show its face.
But it didn’t. Instead, I saw something else.
The figures were tall and wide. They lumbered from side to side, like giant statues, and it was in that moment, as their meaty faces appeared in the moonlight, that I realized who they were.
The orcs, the ones who I’d seen when I’d first entered the quarter. They must’ve followed me into Little Spell and were now boxing me in.
Rats.
“Hello, hello.” The orc’s voice was deep and amused, heavily weighted with a thick, hackneyed accent that made me think of switchblades and dirty ale. “We just want to have a talk.”
“I’m a mute,” I called out from the darkness.
His laughter was a rumble. “You’re a cute one, ain’t ya? Look, love, we just want to have a look at you. Nothing else.”
I stayed still, thinking. From the other end of the alley, more figures were appearing. I glanced up at the surrounding buildings and wondered if I could leap up to the switchback stairs.
No.
To reach that high, I’d have to activate my spirit. And even then, who’s to say that I wouldn’t get a bolt in the back by some crossbow. It was too risky and with no chance of protecting myself.
I only had one choice.
I stepped out of the shadows and faced them.
They stared at me in confusion, as if they couldn’t believe that I was just standing there. They were probably used to chasing after prey who ran. But I was no prey.
A toothy grin spread across the leader’s face as he sized me up. His gaze lifted from my tight leather pants to the bag of gold on my belt, and I could see the sparkle of greed in his yellow eyes.
“There,” I said. “You saw me. Now leave me alone.”
“Oh, come now,” the orc crooned. “A beautiful girl like you? You seem like the type who likes to knock back a couple of Goblin Slews with a pack of fine gents.”
“Sure,” I said. “Just show me the fine gents, and I’ll be on my way.”
The orcs burst into laughter, even the troll looming in the background. But not the leader. He wasn’t amused. He punched the orc at his side, causing him to stumble into the w
all, and they were all quickly silenced.
I swallowed.
Orcs might be slow and clumsy, but they were incredibly strong and could take a punch like a drunk dragon wearing a helmet. Without my nunchucks, the best I could hope for was to run. But with so many of them around me, it would be nearly impossible to escape.
I held their glare, my heart thundering as I gave them my best poker face. “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Seeing as you’re such fine gents, I’ll allow this tiny misunderstanding to pass and let you go on your way.”
“Will you now?” the orc asked.
“Sure.” I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Well, maybe because we have you outnumbered. Or maybe because we don’t want playtime to end just yet. Now give us the gold, and we might not eat you alive.” He lumbered out and reached for the gold on my belt. But I caught his hand before he could tear it away.
As I held his glare, I felt the weight of his fingers curling around my tinier hand. He was strong; there was no question about it. But I wasn’t going to let myself get ripped off by anyone, least of all this jerk.
I batted his arm away and roundhoused him across the face. The force of my kick would’ve smashed in a brick wall, but he merely looked back at me and spit out a tooth.
Rats!
He wiped the blood from his mouth and gave me a terrifying grin that made my skin crawl. He was definitely not going to let this go.
“You know,” he began, massaging his jaw. “For a moment there, I was only interested in the gold, but now I’m interested in something else.”
11
Ivy
“Leave her alone,” warned a voice from the darkness.
A young man with piercing blue eyes and a confident grin strode out of the shadows, and I was suddenly struck by a powerful sense of magic that nearly stole away my breath.
It was the presence.
The one that I’d felt earlier.
The one that had been stalking me.
I stepped back to study him closer and saw a tall figure with long blond hair and a chiseled face. He reminded me of one of the angels I’d seen in the human world, an image of terror and beauty all at once. But the rest of him was pure rock and roll.