by Amy Hopkins
“I’d drown the fuckin’ lot of ‘em,” Garrett snapped.
“Here, maybe. What about back in the Heights?” Danil knew the rules and regulations in Garrett’s hometown were a lot tighter than on this side of the Madlands, especially for a low-ranked guard.
Garrett pouted. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s not that different, either.” Danil raised a hand to accept a mug from Mary, forgetting to look up, though he grasped it perfectly.
She slapped his hand. “Just because you don’t need to look at someone, doesn’t mean you don’t owe them the courtesy of doing so, young man.”
Danil grinned sheepishly and turned to give her a look, letting his eyes clear for a moment even though it meant darkness fell over him. “Sorry, Mary.”
“With eyes like that, it’s no wonder that Polly is knee deep in love with you,” Mary sighed.
“I know you can’t resist my sparkle,” Danil joked.
Mary slapped him gently again before disappearing back behind the bar.
“He should have done differently,” Garrett said, refusing to let the matter go.
“Garrett, he didn’t know who was causing the trouble. He didn’t even know for sure if they were!” Danil pushed Garrett’s mug in front of him.
The rearick’s nose twitched as bubbles drifted up to tickle it. “Gut feelin’. If he don’t have it, he shouldn’t be leadin’ no one.”
“You’ve got that because you were trained well and brought up through the ranks in a structured environment,” Danil said patiently. “Patrick is a farmer who was abandoned by his lord. He’s got trust issues, a guilt complex, and a really bad dose of insecurity in his new position.”
Garrett lifted an eyebrow at that. Then, unable to resist, he snuck a sip of his drink. His eyes closed as he savored the thick mead.
“And I suppose ye’ve been searchin’ through his head, then,” Garrett said once the drink had slid down his throat.
Danil nodded. “The man is as twisted up as wool on a spindle, but he’s trying, Garrett. You can’t hold him to your standards.”
Garrett sighed. “Fine. Ye prick. I’m only givin’ in so ye stop yer yappin’, by the way.” He took another swallow of his drink. “Drink as good as this should be enjoyed in silence.”
Danil sat back, pleased he’d convinced the rearick. He spotted Mary and hailed her over.
She waved back, but stopped at the door to greet Mack, Carey, and Lewis. When she came over, Danil asked what she was cooking for the evening meal.
“Brisket and roots tonight,” she said promptly.
“I’ll take a plate, please. I don’t think Garrett is hungry, though.” Danil bit his lip, trying to keep a straight face.
Garrett was still staring in Mack’s direction, eyes smoldering. “What? I’ll eat, damn ye. A big plate, thanks, Mary.”
“Wise choice, my friend,” Danil said with a snigger.
“Garrett!” Mack spotted the two men sitting in the shadowed corner. “Come to fertilize the bushes again?”
“Get fucked!” Garrett called back, before turning to Danil. “Can’t ye make him forget that?”
Danil rubbed his chin. “It wouldn’t be a very ethical use of my magic.”
“Oh, and that trick ye did on Polly to make ye… proportions change was ethical?” Garrett waited expectantly.
Danil blushed. “How did you hear about that?”
“Polly told Bette.” Garrett drummed his fingers on the table. “I haven’t told a soul… yet.”
Danil opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed deeply. “You’ve got me over a barrel. Just… don’t tell Jules. Of either thing.”
“Aye, I’m sworn to secrecy!” Garrett said gleefully.
“And you owe me a favor. Deal?” Danil said.
“Yeah, yeah. Anything ye want!” Garrett gestured for him to get it over with.
“Hey, Mack!” Danil called. “Tell me about that time Garrett threw up in the street.” He whispered something afterwards too low for Garrett to catch.
“Sure! We were drinking, and he… um… we were…” Mack faltered and scratched his head. “What were we talking about?”
Carey snorted. “I think Danil just bamboozled you. You were telling us your fortieth rendition of the night Garrett puked his guts out.”
“Garrett puked?” Mack asked, bewildered. “Was he sick?”
“Ahh, fuck,” Garrett muttered. “Ye giant smokin’ asshole.”
Hoots of laughter filled the tavern. Lewis slapped the table. “He made you forget! Ha!”
“Forget what?” Mack wore a worried expression.
“Garrett got piss drunk one night, oh, just before the winter started to break.” Lewis rubbed tears of laughter from his eyes. “He went too hard, too fast. You caught him heaving his guts outside on Mary’s rhododendrons. Every time you’ve seen him with a drink since, you’ve reminded him.”
Garrett’s face was a ruddy, angry red. He rose, chair sliding back noisily. “Ye prick! Ye set me up!”
“Hey!” Danil raised his hands defensively. “I did what I said! He forgot!”
“Oh, I forgot, alright,” Mack yelled. “But I won’t forget this!”
Garrett collapsed into his chair with a groan. “I suppose I fuckin’ asked for that.”
Danil couldn’t hold his laugher in anymore. He held his sides, heaving for breath. “Never… never try to… blackmail a mystic,” he wheezed. “Especially not a prick like me!”
Garrett downed the rest of his drink in one long swallow, then slammed it on the table. “MARY!”
Mary yelled out from the kitchen. “Hold your horses, meal’s coming!”
“Bring me a Bitch-damned jug of that mead!” Garrett demanded.
A moment later, Mary stalked out juggling two plates and a pitcher of mead. She carefully set the plates down, then held out the jug.
“Hurry up, lass,” Garrett said.
Mary smiled sweetly, then tipped the entire jug over his head. “By the way, there’s a thirty-percent surcharge on jugs tonight, and an extra fee for bad manners.”
Garrett opened and closed his mouth like a fish, too shocked to answer before she walked away.
Danil just stared, disbelieving, his view of the events skewed from watching through Garrett’s eyes.
The room was quiet until Mack spoke up, his voice low but clear in the silence. “I don’t remember Garrett heaving his guts up, but I’ll wager this is a much better story anyway.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
George climbed into his carriage and signaled he was ready to go. Julianne leaned down from her horse.
“You’re sure you can make it from the portal road to Muir with six men?” she asked dubiously.
“One of these men is a woman,” Lord George pointed out. “I think that tips the scales.”
“I’ve been through the rest stop since it was fortified,” Sharne said. “It’s very secure, so we’ll be safe to spend the night. The bulk of the remnant trouble is down our way, anyway.”
Julianne nodded. “Let’s move out, then.”
They rode fast, stopping only when three remnant barred the road with hungry looks. Sharne slid off her horse and ran in with Patrick on her heels. The four men left in the guard quickly caught up, and the remnant were easily dispatched.
When they resumed travel, Julianne lightly brushed Patrick’s mind. He was quietly going over the fight with his soldiers, pointing out the strengths in Sharne’s technique and picking up some of the weaknesses displayed by his own men.
Satisfied they were in good hands, Julianne released her magic. The steady pace made for a comfortable ride, and she enjoyed being out in this part of the world.
Tahn’s weather patterns were different to Arcadia’s, and the trees and flowers in the countryside were slightly different. Edging into spring, this was even more obvious than on Julianne’s last visit.
Pretty blue flowers stretched over fields, and a giant fig sported glossy purple gr
owth on bare branches. Overhead, puffy white clouds drifted through a flat, blue sky.
Julianne shaded her eyes as she watched them lazily pass, casting shadows on the ground below. She wondered if Bethany Anne really was up there somewhere, still fighting to keep the people of Irth safe from dangers they didn’t even know existed.
“What are you dreaming about?” Marcus rode up behind her, startling her with his question.
“Bethany Anne,” she admitted. “Also, Hannah. That girl is turning into as much of a legend as the Queen herself.”
“It’s a new era,” Marcus said with a shrug. “We need new heroes. Spunky girls with pet lizards. Old men with scraggly beards.” He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Pretty girls with the power to bring men to their knees.”
“And who would that be?” Julianne asked primly.
“You, of course.”
Julianne rolled her eyes. “Marcus, I don’t deny I can bring men to their knees… but it’s not because I’m pretty.”
He laughed. “Well, your stunning good looks bring me to my knees.”
She did allow herself a chuckle at that. “You’re such a romantic. Still, I’d rather have well-honed skills than a nice face. What happens when I get old?”
“What does happen when you get old?” Marcus asked seriously.
“What do you mean?” Julianne asked.
“Well, Ezekiel was, like, a thousand years old. Will you live that long?” He let his gaze drift away.
“You’re worried I’ll leave you when you’re old and grey, and I still look twenty?” Julianne pulled her horse closer to his and reached out to grab his hand. “I’ll still love you. Even if you get ugly.”
“Gee, thanks,” Marcus said.
“Besides, Ezekiel is not a thousand years old. Just a couple of hundred. I think.” She frowned, trying to remember if he’d ever given her an exact number. “And he doesn’t look twenty. I might live to a thousand years old, but spend nine-hundred and seventy of them looking like him.”
Julianne’s eyes misted over. Suddenly, she looked like Ezekiel—though she added a few touches to make him look even older than when they’d seen him last. Marcus recoiled in mock horror.
“Will you still love me when I look like this?” she asked, her voice ringing out clear and bright despite her decrepit appearance.
“Uhh… yes?” Marcus didn’t sound at all confident. “I mean, old-Julianne I could love. If you actually turned into an old man? Not so sure about that!”
“I knew your love was only skin deep!” she teased, not dropping the illusion.
Marcus didn’t answer right away. “Jules, I love you… but, I’m sorry, that’s just disturbing.”
Julianne giggled and finally dropped the spell. “It’s ok. I think I’d have a hard time making out with you if you suddenly looked like Annie.”
Marcus sniggered. “I’ll keep that in mind. Next time I have a headache and need the night off, I’ll ask Bastian to spell me up.”
Julianne squealed in outrage and slapped his shoulder. “You beast!”
“You started it!” Marcus laughed.
“Fine! No more Ezekiel mask!” Julianne said. “I like your cute, curly locks just the way they are.”
Marcus ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. “They are quite cute, aren’t they?”
“Adorable,” Bette called from behind. “Just the right length to grab a hold of and lop yer head off, though.”
“She’s right,” Julianne said. “You do need a haircut.”
“What?” Marcus protested. “You just said they were cute!”
“They are!” Julianne assured him “But they’re also a health risk. We can ask Annie to do it next time we visit. She loves cutting your hair.”
Marcus sighed. “I’m not gonna win this one, am I?”
“Nope,” Bette called as Julianne shook her head.
Marcus sighed and nudged his horse ahead, leaving Bette and Julianne to ride together.
“Ye look nervous, lass,” Bette said gently.
Julianne considered the question. “Just… not sure what to expect. Usually when I’m walking into something, I’ve seen the important details from someone else’s mind. This time, it feels different.”
“Ye can’t wrap yer head around it, can ye?” Bette nodded to herself. “Aye. Took us all a few visits and a few more drinks to believe it was real. It’s not like a fancy buildin’ or a new breed of mountain cat. It’s an impossible thing, hangin’ in the air like nobody’s business.”
“I think you’re right,” Julianne said. “My mind keeps trying to come up with explanations, refusing to grasp that the images I’ve seen are real. And I’ve seen a lot of things, real and false.”
“And ye’ve made a few of them yerself,” Bette reminded her. “But just because ye’ve seen a lot, doesn’t mean ye’ve seen it all.”
“That’s the beauty of it, though.” Julianne glanced at the bright clouds drifting across the sky again. “No one person ever will see it all. Not even the Queen herself.”
“The Queen?” Bette asked. “She’s seen everything! All those stories, they make it sound like she’s been everywhere!”
Julianne raised a finger. “She’s not here, is she? She didn’t see us free Tahn or fight off Adrien. She doesn’t know about his flying machine or our magitech weapons.”
Briefly, an image flitted across Julianne’s mind. Amongst the barrage of information Hannah had sent, was a view of a large, scaly beast that flew through the air. The emotions that came with it had immediately brought Sal, Hannah’s magically-altered pet, to mind. That flying monstrosity couldn’t be the tiny creature Hannah had back in Arcadia… could it?
Unable to solve that particular mystery while on the road, Julianne banished it from her mind. With all the revelations they’d had in the past few days, nothing seemed impossible anymore.
And if monsters from other worlds and portals through space are possible… what things are we capable of? Things we’ve never dreamed of? Julianne sat deep in her saddle, allowing her mind to wander for the rest of the journey.
When they turned off the main road to Muir, Julianne forced her mind back to the present. They wove through the forest, taking the newer, wider path that Francis had ordered built.
They passed the school, and Julianne insisted they stop.
“Master! You’ve come for an inspection?” Bastian took her hand and helped her off the horse.
“I didn’t realize you’d made so much progress,” Julianne admitted. To be fair, she hadn’t been keeping up to date with the new build—too busy with more pressing matters to give the school the attention she wanted to.
“It’s going well,” Bastian said. “Though, we’ve had two accidents. No one was hurt, thanks to Jessop’s help.”
“Jessop?” Julianne hadn’t realized the old man was involved in the build.
“He’s the only one who knows as much as Francis when it comes to building,” Bastian explained. “He insisted on extra bracing in a few areas. That saved lives when a platform came loose one day.”
“That doesn’t sound normal,” Julianne said with a frown.
Bastian shrugged. “We still have no idea how it could have happened. Jessop thinks maybe a beam was flawed or damaged somehow.”
“And the other accident?” Julianne pressed.
Bastian blushed. “That was me. I was up top—” he pointed to a narrow boardwalk near the second floor, which was still under construction. “I tripped over my own damn boots and slammed face first into the safety railing.”
Julianne shook her head at that. “I’m glad you’ve got someone to help. I know that construction isn’t exactly your area of expertise.”
Bastian chuckled. “You mean, you know I’m a klutz, and completely ignorant of the intricacies of building.”
Julianne grinned. “I was being polite.”
He led her on a brief tour, pointing out gaps in the stone walls that would ser
ve as windows or doors, and showing her the layout of the lowest floor.
“You know,” she said, turning a slow circle in the roughly-framed room that would become his office. “There’s not a lot of space in here.”
“I don’t need much to be comfortable,” he said.
Julianne laughed. “You may not… but if you remember the gigantic piles of paperwork I had sent to me every day, you’d know why a big office is a gift from the Queen Bitch herself.”
Bastian winced. “But you ran a whole Temple. This is…”
“Just a school?” she teased. “You know that’s not all this is. You’re going to become a center of education, a bastion of all that Arcadia could have been if Adrien wasn’t so short-sighted. Combined with talent training? You’re breaking new ground, and the whole world will want to know how it’s going and will look to you for leadership and advice.”
Bastian was pale. “All l wanted was to teach some kids, Master. I’m not cut out for that kind of responsibility.”
She patted his shoulder. “Too late now, my friend. I have faith in you, though. I think you’re exactly the right person to do this.”
He blew a puff of air through his lips, then mustered a grin. “You’ve never been wrong before!”
“And you’ll have Tansy beside you to keep your feet on the ground. Right?” Julianne looked around and found the performer hanging upside down, legs wrapped around a beam as she secured a rope to it.
Bastian glanced at her, then quickly turned away. “It doesn’t matter how many times she does that, I can’t watch.”
Julianne laughed. “I trust in you. You need to trust in her.”
He sighed, then forced himself to watch as Tansy tested her knots, then dropped down onto the rope, grasping it with one hand. She swung out over a wide space, kicked off a beam on the other side, then leveraged her momentum to land on another beam with a quick bow.
A smattering of applause from below made her grin, before tossing the end of the rope around a post. She bent down to secure it, then yelled to a builder on another platform. “Ready!”