by Jamie Davis
“Where are you going?”
“We thought we’d go to Spark. A night of dancing will be fun after the last two days. I can use something to look forward to for a change.”
“Talk to your friends, Winnie. Cait and Tris have both seen things in their work that you haven’t. Tell them what happened with the shop and see what they think. Tris has dealt with people like Artos Merrilyn in her job tending to public works projects, and Cait knows what can happen when powerful people above you make decisions that affect your life.”
“They’re my friends, Mom. They’ll support me no matter what I do.”
“Talk to them, sweetie. You might be surprised by what they have to say.”
CHAPTER 7
The music was pumping loud enough to vibrate a full city block. Winnie took a sip of her drink and leaned in closer to hear what Tris was saying.
“I don’t know, Winnie. I’ve never seen Artos do anything illegal myself. But I’ve heard plenty from people I work with. He’s mixed up in the Sable trade for sure.”
“How do you know it wasn’t an honest favor for a woman who asked him a question? It could be completely innocent.” Winnie was frustrated — her friends were clearly unhappy to hear about her shop’s new direction. It was as if her mother had spoken to each of them and offered a script.
“Don’t get us wrong,” Cait shouted over the din of the music. “We’re happy that you have some sort of solution. We want you to keep the shop open. But I’m with Tris: you need to be careful when dealing with people like Artos Merrilyn. Everyone knows he’s dangerous and mixed up with the worst of the Sable trade. That kind of reputation doesn’t come from nowhere. You need to be careful.”
Winnie sat back and crossed her arms, knowing she looked petulant but not able to care. Why couldn’t they be happy for her? She wasn’t a child. She knew Artos’s reputation. You couldn’t live in the Enclave, or anywhere else in Baltimore, and not know who he was. Every time he rode by in his limousine or paraded down the street with an entourage behind him, people would mutter stories of some horrible thing perpetrated at his orders.
Winnie remembered being very young and pointing to his shiny new car while out with her mother. Elaine had pushed Winnie’s arm to her side and scooped her up, saying that it wasn’t polite to point. It wasn’t until much later that had Winnie realized how frightened her mother had been that it might draw unwanted attention to them.
She got the idea: Artos was dangerous. And Winnie was aware of the danger. She was also impressed that Artos had known about her well enough to send a customer her way on the very day she needed it the most. It made her proud of all she had achieved in her short eighteen years. She didn’t like owing anyone, but this was different. This was referring a friend to a service provided by another. She owed the woman for securing the license for her shop, not Artos.
Winnie turned back to her friends. Again, she leaned forward and shouted over the thumping bass line. “I don’t want to fight with you guys. Let’s just have a good time, alright? I want to dance. Who’s with me?”
The girls nodded, smiles returning to their faces. These were her closest friends and she was glad to be out with them tonight. Tris and Cait jumped up and joined her as she pushed her way through the crowded room to the area under the flashing, multi-colored lights that served as a dance floor. Soon, they were all jumping around and moving in time with the beat, their earlier tense discussion forgotten amid youthful celebration. The music moved Winnie, and she was so caught up in the moment that she kept on moving even after the music screeched to a stop.
Shouts of anger clashed with screams of alarm. Winnie looked up to see what the commotion was about. She saw a large force of Red Legs pushing their way into the club from two directions, knocking people aside as they made their way toward the DJ’s booth. Constable Holmes led one of the columns of officers, forcing people aside as he made a beeline to the far wall where the DJ was spinning tunes.
The DJ seemed startled by the sudden appearance of police. He was on a raised platform so Winnie — and surely everyone in the dance hall — could clearly see him reaching into his pockets. He pulled his hands free, now clenched in fists. He turned, then threw something at the closest group of advancing Red Legs as they ascended the stairs to his table.
The air lit with a sparkle and Winnie knew what he’d done.
“It’s pixie dust,” she told her friends, referring to the common practice of using regular craft glitter as a foundation for an airborne spell. Often used for things like children’s parties where you could project images and shapes into the air with the reflective particles, this was the first time she’d seen the substance used in an offensive capacity.
The first few officers in the advancing line threw their hands to their faces and fell backward into their fellows, rubbing at their eyes as if blinded.
The scattered glitter continued to spread, then hung suspended in the air. A blinding flash forced the Red Legs back. The DJ jumped over his table and sprinted away from the officers. His pursuers shouted in alarm, one of them pointing toward where he’d joined the crowd.
A hand raised, holding a weapon.
Winnie screamed, “No!” as the first officer in line pointed his pistol at the fleeing man. The DJ was running straight toward them. No matter how good a shot that Red Leg was, he would miss with at least some of his shots if he started spraying bullets in their direction.
Her attention was still fixed on the scene unfolding before her when Cait tackled her and Tris, bringing them both to the floor beneath her. Then the shooting started, followed by screams.
Winnie saw others diving to the floor around her, and figured they’d decided to take cover there as well. It wasn’t until she saw the blank stare of one girl looking back at her that Winnie knew she was wrong. They weren’t diving to the floor to avoid the bullets. They were falling to the floor because they were struck by them.
Winnie screamed in alarm as she realized the vacant eyes staring back at her belonged to a dead teenager.
“We have to get out of here,” Cait shouted. “Follow me.”
Winnie rolled to her side and saw Cait and Tris crawling across the floor towards the emergency exit at the club’s rear. Cait was right. If they could get there, they could reach the street and make their way home. She started crawling behind them, avoiding bodies, alive and dead on the dance floor around them.
Winnie risked a glance behind her and saw another flash of magical energy, this one a flow pattern she didn’t recognize. Its power was undeniable, though she felt the wind leave her when a charm detonated behind her.
Red Legs in the lead were thrown backwards by the blast, bowling over their companions behind them and scattering their guns. Winnie looked up and saw the DJ laughing, his expression crazed as he sprinted past her companions and out the door. Casting the Sable spell that had caused the explosion gave his eyes a glazed look of euphoria as he ran. He probably felt invincible.
The three of them crawled faster. A few feet from the exit, they all rose to a crouch and ran for the opening. The shooting had started again and Winnie heard the thunder and saw the bullets pocking the walls around her.
Who were they shooting at? The man they were after had left the building already.
Outside, the world was filled with groaning from the few who had made it out ahead of them. Cait grabbed Winnie’s arm and helped her to stand. Tris was beside her.
“We need to go,” Cait said. “Are you both alright? You’re not hit, are you?”
Both women shook their heads.
Cait continued. “This isn’t a normal raid. This is going to shut down the entire Enclave for the rest of the night, or until the Red Legs are satisfied they have searched long enough for their suspect.”
The tall blonde pointed to an alley between two buildings across the street. She pushed her friends from behind to get them started, then the three of them ran toward it as sirens announced the approach of more Red L
egs coming to support their comrades. They got out of sight in the alley just as the first flashing lights turned onto the street. The three of them kept running for another two blocks, slowing only to make sure there was no traffic coming down the larger streets as they crossed. They stopped by a dumpster in the dark shadows next to a decrepit apartment building to catch their breath. The tenement looked down on them, it’s old windows like broken teeth.
“What were they thinking, shooting into a crowded nightclub like that?” Tris asked. “There must be dozens killed or injured back there.”
“They did what they needed to do to defend themselves,” Cait responded. “That DJ was too prepared for an escape. He wasn’t just another performer. He must be mixed up with the Sable trade. That last blast was an air detonation spell, like the kind I learned in the army. Powerful stuff, and forbidden to be used by anyone unless under direct orders.”
“That’s the kind of thing that allows the middlings to keep us all isolated here in the Enclave.” Winnie was angry at the DJ for breaking the law and making chanters look like criminals in the eyes of so many middlings. She remembered the look of mischief on his face when he’d seen the effect of his spell on the Red Legs.
Sirens still sounded in the distance. Winnie hoped some were ambulances and not just more Red Legs adding to the carnage. She knew the primary responsibility for starting the commotion lay with the Sable Trading DJ, but she was angry that the Red Legs hadn’t shown more restraint. With Constable Holmes leading them, it was unlikely they would take extra care of the wounded until after apprehending their target. He didn’t care about a few chanter lives if he could get his hands on a Sable trader carrying forbidden wares.
It took a few minutes for the three to catch their breaths, then they came out of the alley and started toward the nearest bus stop. Perhaps they’d get lucky and catch a crosstown bus still running despite the excitement.
It would save them a long walk home in the dark.
CHAPTER 8
Winnie woke up the following morning to find her mother watching the news, the anchorman talking about the “cowardly chanter attack on security services bent on cracking down on the Sable trade.”
Elaine looked up from the kitchen table, her eyes going from her morning tea to Winnie to the TV. She pointed to a video showing the interior of a devastated night club. “Were you there?”
“Yes, but we left before all the excitement.”
“Excitement? That wasn’t excitement. That was a gun fight in the middle of a gang war. This is exactly the kind of thing you can expect, getting mixed up with a man like Artos Merrilyn.”
“Mother, this had nothing to do with Artos and his doing me a favor. The DJ was mixed up with something — he attacked the Red Legs when they came to arrest him. They overreacted and started spraying bullets around the club, hitting anyone who wasn’t taking cover. It was bad, but it had nothing to do with me. I was an innocent bystander.”
“Are Cait and Tris alright?”
“Yes, they got out safely with me. We came home together. We’re all fine. I’m going in this morning to finish repairing that clock for Mrs. Adams.”
“You’re not afraid about a backlash against chanters and their businesses by the Red Legs? Dan Conners on the morning news said the authorities are using video surveillance footage to apprehend everyone involved in the attack.”
“Fine with me. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all.” Winnie went to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda from the shelf.
“Don’t you want breakfast?”
“I’ll pick something up on my way into the shop. I want to be there early in case other referrals come in. It could be a good day despite last night’s bad news.”
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
Winnie shrugged. “You can if you want. I guess I could use some help getting things rearranged for the new layout. I’m not selling merchandise anymore, so I don’t need all the shelves out front and the counter in back. I thought we could rearrange things to reflect the new business model.”
Her mother stood and started hobbling back to her bedroom. “Give me a few minutes to freshen up and get dressed in something presentable. Then I’ll go in with you. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the place.”
Winnie started clearing the breakfast dishes, worried as usual that her mother would over exert herself. Her arthritis was caused by an immune system quirk that caused Elaine’s body to attack her joints as if infected. Medicine helped, but Elaine only had so much energy to expend each day. If she did too much, she’d pay for it days later. Stress also caused flare-ups — like seeing the shop empty and dealing with the worry of Artos Merrilyn’s involvement in Charmed.
Winnie pulled out her phone out and sent Cait a message. Maybe she could come in to help. There would be a lot to do, and if Elaine was coming in, she’d want to help her daughter with any physical work that needed to be done. But if Cait was there, her mom might let the two younger women take care of the heavy lifting.
She hoped Cait was awake. Winnie considered sending a similar message to Tris but changed her mind. Tris had her own job, and had already called in sick once to help Winnie out at Charmed a few days before. She returned the phone back in her pocket without texting Tris — it was hard enough for chanters to find a good job.
Elaine emerged from the bedroom dressed and almost ready to go. Winnie walked over to her mother and helped her finish the buttons on her dress. The fine motor skills required by even the most mundane task had surpassed her mother’s abilities long ago.
“You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this. No mother wants that for her daughter.”
“Nonsense, Mom. Do you hear me complaining?” She finished the final button and gave her mother a hug. “I love you. Where else would I be if I didn’t stay here with you? Now let’s get going. We want to make sure we catch the early bus, so we can get to the shop in enough time to open at nine.”
Winnie picked up the box with the clock in need of repair, then they left their Enclave apartment and walked to the bus stop. Elaine’s limp slowed them down, but they made it just as the bus was pulling to the curb. That was lucky — missing the bus would have meant waiting thirty or forty minutes for another one.
The bus dropped them at the stop about two blocks from the shop. When Winnie and her mom turned the corner, it was already nearing nine o’clock. She saw Cait already waiting outside the door, a few feet from a limousine. An unusual sight for this neighborhood — as she and her mother approached, Winnie noticed Cait trying not to look at the limo.
She fished the keys from her pocket then unlocked the door, giving the limo a sideways glance before going inside with her mother and Cait. There was a lot of work to do today, and Winnie was excited to start.
The goal for the new layout was simple: to dismantle the shelves and move the counter closer to the front door. She no longer needed the space out front. She could only sell her services, and only to repair existing magical goods. Winnie planned to erect a few of the shelves towards the rear where she could hold items left for repair and block access to her work area where she would cast the spells and charms to mend the broken items.
Winnie and Cait started taking the metal shelves apart and stacking them against the back wall. They were taking a load of dismantled shelving back when the front door opened and a short, balding man entered, holding the door for a tall, gray-haired man in a black overcoat and hat. Winnie knew right away who the tall man was. Even after only seeing him from a distance once or twice in the past, there could be no doubt it was him: Artos Merrilyn.
She and Cait set the shelves down. Then Winnie brushed the accumulated dust from her blouse and walked over to greet him.
“Mr. Merrilyn, I’m so honored to have you stop in my store, though I am sorry about its present state.” She offered her hand, but was shocked when instead of shaking it, he leaned over to brush the back of her hand with his lips.
&n
bsp; “The pleasure is mine, Miss Durham. I know we’ve never met, but I have been paying attention to your hard work here at Charmed for a while now.” He looked around the store, then back at Winnie. “How goes the transition so far?”
“Transition? Oh, you mean the new license for repair of magical goods?”
“That is correct. I wanted to make sure you received the license so that you can stay open. It is important for chanters like us to stick together, don’t you think?”
His smile made Winnie uneasy. Had this been what her mother meant when she’d warned her about him? When Mrs. Adams had come by with her clock and a license, it had seemed like an innocent customer referral. Now, Winnie wasn’t so sure.
“I am a simple shop keeper, Mr. Merrilyn. I’m grateful for the chance to provide my customers a legal service for a fair price.”
“A simple shop keeper, indeed.” Artos walked over to the counter where Elaine sat on a stool and inclined his head in a small bow. “You must be Mrs. Durham. I understand that you’re ill. I do hope you’re feeling better today?”
“I am as well as can be expected, Mr. Merrilyn.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Please promise to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you. Anything at all.”
“I don’t see that it will be necessary, but I thank you for your kind words.”
Artos nodded to Elaine then looked at the clock, still sitting in the box on the counter. He reached in, removed the fine china, and turned it in his hands, peering at the clock’s face before turning his eyes on Winnie.
“Is this Mrs. Adams’s family clock?”
“It is, Mr. Merrilyn. She brought it in yesterday. I’ve started working on the underlying charm. There was a fault with the original weave of the flows. They’ve unraveled over time.”
“What did you do?” He held up the clock, inspecting if further, now from underneath. “I can barely see the charms. They’re nearly invisible, and believe me, it takes a great deal to hide a charm from me.”