Gerdy pointed in the opposite direction where Epik knew the river ran into the bay. “And last,” she said. “There’s the Island, Sprite Island. You can take a ferry to get out there. Lotsa elves live on the Island.”
“Oh, I’d like to see real elves.”
“Spend too much time in the sun, they do. Funny accents.” Gertrude’s own accent didn’t match her exterior. Epik thought it sounded more like how Myra should sound: sophisticated but not haughty. Nothing you’d expect from a half dwarf.
Epik ducked under a ladder. The stocky man on top of it tiptoed up to the dangling signage of the brick stone shop, tearing it away. In archaic scrawl, it read: Hagatha’s House of Magikal Herbs and Remedies.
“What are you doing?” Gertrude pulled the halfling back. “You never heard that’s bad luck?”
“What? Walking?”
“Walking under a ladder. Now you’ve just got to break a mirror and pass by a black cat.”
Back in Jersy, Sergeant Todder, weary from a hard night’s lounging by the ramparts, looked in his mirror. He found a new wrinkle.
The man on the ladder dropped Hagatha’s broken signage; from the crook of his arm, he replaced it with something new, something more refined. In Sans lettering, it read:
Farmacy
“Myra told me about these,” Gerdy said. “Her father’s latest investment.”
“What are they for?”
“If you’re sick, I suppose.”
“Sick?” Epik questioned.
“You know when your nose gets all stopped up and you’re sneezing.” Epik’s face showed no recognition. “Coughing? You know, when you have the tummy troubles. Or your heads hurting like it’s got a mine full of dwarves hammering in it. Maybe even some nasty combination of all of them. Anything ring a bell?”
Epik shrugged.
“Oh,” he confided. “I do usually get one big sneeze right at the beginning of spring when the smell of hay is thick in the air. Never really thought much of it though.”
Gerdy giggled. “That’s not exactly what I’m talking about.”
After seeing the brownstone home of Jed, Snow, and Gerdy, they headed back to Jersy, back to the perimeter of the city.
Remnants of the previous night’s festivities lay scattered across the bar: empty mugs, half-empty plates, forks, and spoons lay forgotten on the floorboards. Even Gabby’s stool still lay awkwardly on the floor where Gabby had fallen.
Where Gabby had pretended to fall, Epik thought.
Gerdy fried a pan of sausage before helping Epik clean up. “You halflings and your appetites. I think I read about it in a book once. The only thing I knew about halflings before you showed up. I’m glad Dad hired you though. Usually, it’s just me here at this time of day.”
“You read books?” Epik asked.
“That’s not a polite thing to say,” Gerdy said. “Lots of people read books. Girls and dwarves among them.”
“I didn’t mean—“
“You’re forgiven,” she said smartly.
Epik heaped a tray of plates and glasses next to the sink.
“Thanks for mentioning me to Gabby, by the way.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do. The way you went on about wizards. I suppose you’re going to be one now?” She smirked.
“It’s possible,” Epik said.
“You’d be kind of cute with a pointy hat.” Epik wasn’t sure how to feel. He liked the attention, or he thought he did. “Can I ask you something?” she said. “What do your folks think about you coming to the city? All alone. Full of humans and dwarves and elves and goblins,” she said snidely. “I can’t imagine they’d approve.”
Epik half smiled. He cleared the ranger's table. “My mother doesn’t. But she knew she couldn’t stop me, either. I never really knew my dad. He’s like one of those family secrets you always read about. Have you read any books like that?”
Gertrude had stopped collecting drinks. She stood there, looking at him. “I have,” she said. “And I think every family’s got some of them. Mom and Dad’s whole relationship is a big secret. Something to do with an evil queen, an apple, and a Prince who wound up liking other men. I never can get the whole story.”
She noticed Epik eying the dart board. “You ever play?”
“No,” he said.
“Well it’s nothing as fancy as your word game, but it’s pretty fun once you get the hang of it.” Gerdy explained the finer points of darts. “You see, the middle is called the bullseye,” she said. “And the essence of the game is to hit that. But there are other ways to play; some you try to hit these numbered parts, too.”
Epik took a dart in his hand. It took up his whole palm.
“Just try for the bullseye for now.”
Epik centered himself with the board. He narrowed his eyes, bringing the dart to beside his cheek. He threw.
Luckily, someone had seen fit to put a wall behind the board and a roof above the bar. Otherwise, the dart would have cleared the ramparts. It landed deep inside the wall several feet high and wide of the board itself. There were other random holes, places where men had done similar, but Epik's was the furthest from the board by far.
“Not bad,” Gerdy laughed. “Honestly I wasn’t sure you’d make it to the wall. This time, let’s try less power, and maybe a bit more accuracy. You don’t have to give it everything, just enough that it’ll stick into the board.”
They played for a while until Epik was consistently hitting the board and not the wall. Time did one of those annoying things where it passes hours in only a few minutes, and they hurriedly cleaned the rest of the bar before Jed and Snow arrived. Like the previous afternoon, the Rotten Apple began to fill. At dusk, it met capacity. And again that night, Jed seemed eager to hand off his duties tending the bar to Epik, though Epiman and Myra never showed. Instead, the dwarf disappeared to the kitchen, and then the storeroom, and later out of the bar completely.
Drinks flowed, and food was ordered. Epik kept the bar running like the machine it was, keeping a close eye on pints, refilling them before their owners had a chance to reconsider and leave the pub.
Gabby made a brief appearance, then left. Sergeant Todder came in and sat at the bar. His large frame overtook Epik’s view of the crowd. It was beginning to look like a quiet night at the Apple. That was, until the ranger made his presence known.
“Halfling,” he called. “We’ve been wondering. Is there still a plant man down in those swamps by the Bog?”
Epik nodded, unsure. “There is,” he said. Epik knew more about the swamp man than most. But the memory of it kept slipping away like a dream.
Rotrick eyed Collus and the dwarves. “I told you,” he said. “There’s money to be had there.”
Coe smiled at his friend. “There’s no money in the Bog. Is there?” The ranger looked at Epik like he should know. “No,” he said. “We’ll stick to proper folks. Humans. Dwarves. I’ll even help an elf out in a pinch. But these things,” Coe waved his hand toward Epik. “Not worth it.”
“Coe, come on. Time to lay off,” the black bearded dwarf said. His skin was only a shade darker. And of the three of them, he looked the most well-kempt, his beard braided neatly and his hair shaved on the sides in tight angles.
“No,” Coe shook his head, “not yet. I’m just wondering if the halfling has figured it out yet—you don’t belong here in the city. It won’t be long and you’ll find your way back home. I’m sure of it.”
There was a grudge there that Epik did not understand. But Coe’s friend just looked away, knowing not to press him anymore.
“I don’t understand your problem,” Epik said, tension rising in his belly. The new and somewhat familiar feeling of anger was bubbling hot from the inside out. A slight desire to runaway hovered in the back of his mind. But he pushed that away—something he was getting better at by the day.
“No,” Coe said. “You wouldn’t. Just get us another beer.”
Back at the bar, Epik evened hi
s breath. The heat on the back of his neck cooled, and he realized why most halflings never fight—they’d never met a man.
13
Invisible Monsters
Hidden behind the cloaked figures, amongst the shadows dancing along the walls, there was another, smaller figure. One even smaller than the dwarf. And silent. No one else seemed to notice his presence at all—just Nacer, who prided himself on noticing the small details that others overlooked.
“Big news, big news,” Master Investor said. “Our man—“
“Not a man,” the cloaked figure of the dwarf said.
“That is, our operative, says the trolls are in place. They’ll be arriving tomorrow night. Let me be extremely clear; we should take caution. Do not be out after nightfall if at all possible.”
“So, no meeting then?” Nacer said snidely.
“You, my friend, were optional even tonight.”
“And you’re sure these trolls have the back-terra?” a hooded figure at the back of the table inquired.
Nacer looked to the Shadow, still somewhere along the wall with the others, hoping it would step out and speak. He assumed this was the operative of which Master Investor had spoken.
But the dwarf butted in. “Oh yes, Mister Advertising, as I understand it, all trolls have some. Grows on ‘em as natural as toe fungus.”
“See!” Mister Apparel said loudly, “I told the wife toe fungus is natural.”
“Right natural,” another said.
“As natural as ear cheese.”
Nacer gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time for this. “Will the trolls come in by way of the Wall?” he asked. “It’s just... the king’s decided to station a fair of bit of Watch there. I’m afraid they might—”
“Kill the trolls?” Mister Apparel said.
“Um… no… I was thinking the other way around. I don’t see why we should risk the city’s protection for—”
“Protection?” Master Investor cut in. Nacer despised being interrupted. And here it was, twice, in short succession. “Is that what you think the Watch provides? Talk to your king, the one sending the Army on an intercontinental march for no reason.” The tall man under the cloak didn’t give Nacer the time for a response. “These are mountain trolls,” he said. “Much larger and meaner than the cave trolls we're used to. They’ll overtake the Watch quickly. Without a problem.”
“Through Jersy?” the dwarf said. This was obviously news to him. “But they’ll cross the river, won’t they? Before they get to the pillaging.”
“Can a troll cross a river?” Mister Advertising asked.
“Well, there’s a bridge, ain’t there?” the dwarf said.
“Yes, but do trolls know how to cross them? I thought the tradition was to live under them.”
“They do both,” Master Investor said knowingly. “And will you two idiots shut up,” he said abruptly but quickly corrected, “I mean, conspirators. We’re getting off track.”
Nacer studied the man. It wasn’t his first slip-up. The word idiot was like a lemon drop circling Master Investor’s mouth. Tonight was the night, he thought. Nacer would find out who this man was. And what he was after.
The meeting of the conspirators adjourned, possibly due to the lack of refreshment. No cakes, no punch, or donuts had been placed out on the table as they had prior. And Misters Alchemical suggested they all go out for burgers and beer. A division formed over the best burger joint in town and several groups splintered off from there.
Nacer followed the tall man out into the street. The smaller Shadow slipped close behind them. And Nacer wondered if he too was being followed, one after the other.
The streets were loosely crowded with the usual riff-raff of a summer night. Nacer followed the tall man, his cloak almost a head height above the others, but somehow he lost Master Investor somewhere between 7th and 7th streets. He pulled off his hood and searched. But what he found wasn’t the tall cloaked man. A Shadow slipped back from behind, down an alleyway—the small figure from the meeting. Nacer ran to catch up to it, his footsteps echoing on the cobblestoned street.
Stopping at the mouth of the alley, he looked down to find nothing. Just a dead end, save a lonely Shadow, out of place among empty boxes.
“Hello?” Nacer said, on edge.
“He’s tricked us. I know you know it.” The voice was high and echoed strangely in Nacer’s ear. “He’s tricked all of them. He’s making a play for the throne.”
“He is?” Nacer found himself whispering back.
“He is.” Was that just an echo?
“Do you know his name?” Nacer asked.
But the Shadow was gone, and there was no answer.
14
Lock and Key
Aside from the watchmen, the street was barren this time of night. Epik could see them there, lining the expansive opening of the Wall, protecting the city. No, lining wasn’t the right word; it was more a gaggle than anything. And protecting… also the wrong word.
Sergeant Todder leaned against the wall asleep, until one of the lads kicked the leg of his chair as a joke. Roused, the sergeant kicked all three of the men next to him. The others were spread across the span, also lounging.
Epik had seen Gerdy and Snow off after they closed and locked up the bar. Jed had never come back. Epik imagined a walk from Jersy to Brook Glen wasn’t very safe at this time of night. Somehow, he knew Gertrude could manage. The girl could not only lift a full beer barrel. But three times now, he’d seen her throw herself into the middle of a bar brawl, taking punches and kicks before the assailants realized she was there, and they’d made a mistake.
The magic shop was shuttered. The lamppost outside was extinguished, giving this part of the block a look and feel like it could not be trusted. As Epik neared the door, he heard Gabby’s nasally draw humming behind the door.
Epik tested the handle. It was open.
Gabby looked back at him, surprised. Shadows seemed to dance off the walls of the dimly lit shop. One even appeared to bounce out into the street.
“Quitting time already?” Gabby asked.
“Yeah, it’s late.” Epik yawned. “Were you just talking to yourself?”
“No, not voices,” the wizard said. “I was just talking to myself.”
“That’s what I—“
“It’s what they don’t tell you about becoming a wizard. The mind won’t stop whirring. Nonstop. It helps if I vocalize it.”
“It sounded like baby talk. High pitched. Farmer Tuck used to talk to his cows like that. Funny halfling, farmer Tuck.”
Gabby disregarded him. He strode across the room to a counter and looked at it apprehensively. His wizard’s hat sat limply on his head like the collapsed dorsal fin of an orca. Even his beard seemed out of place.
“Can I ask what you were talking to yourself about?”
“What’s the rule about questions?”
“Um. Not to ask them?”
“Then there you have it.”
“But—“
All of Epik’s thoughts were cut off by Gabby’s action. First, the wizard marched over to the shelf of wands, searching until he found a box he seemed to like. Gabby procured the wand from inside it, and without another thought, he handed it over to Epik.
“You’re… you’re giving me a… a wand?” Epik said dumbfounded.
“Well, I thought maybe you’d like a key. It won’t always be open, you know.” Gabby pointed at the door.
“That’s not to say you can’t flourish it about a bit,” the wizard said. “Go ahead, give it a try.”
Epik knew he could do something. He felt it in the back of his mind, like a throbbing ball of fire, back there eating him away5.
He flourished the wand.
Again, nothing happened.
“Very good. Perhaps one day you too can run a supply store as grand as this one. Have you heard the saying ‘those who do, do, and those who can’t, teach’? Well, running a magic supply store is a step below teaching an
d just a smidgen better than technical writing.”
“But you’ve done magic. I’ve seen you.”
“It’s true. But I’ve also said magic is hard work. It takes the feelings you’ve buried deep inside, and it employs them. I’m simply coming to the end of my well. I probably only have a few vanishings left in me.”
“Feelings,” Epik said, feeling out the word. Something in him stirred halfheartedly and then skulked away.
Gabby crossed the store in just a few steps, and peeked out the curtained front window.
“What do you think about this business outside?” he said. “Should probably call them The Expendables. The only real Guard in the city is at the palace.”
“Tell me what you think is going to happen,” Epik said boldly.
“The way you framed that, not exactly a question. You’re getting better.” Gabby shrugged. “I think we should be ready for anything. Something’s bound to happen in the next couple days.”
“So, are you going to teach me magic… something a bit more useful?”
“More questions,” Gabby said. “And you were doing so good… Tomorrow, I want you to stand up for yourself. You do that, then I will teach you something useful.”
“How do you—“
“I know a lot of things,” Gabby said. “And in exchange, I’ve got some work around the shop for you to do.” Gabby explained, “There are some books upstairs collecting dust. Rare items. I’ve been saving them for myself, but now I believe it’s time to put them on the shelves. See if I can’t drum up some business.” Gabby began to pace, his hands folded behind his back. “Now,” he said. “You get some rest. I’ve got a long night ahead of me… with my thoughts.”
“I could—“
“With only my thoughts,” Gabby said, not unkindly.
“Oh,” Epik grumbled, dejected.
He took the stairs up to his closet. In his small space, Epik cradled the wand. He flicked and spun it. He arched it lazily through the air. Still nothing. He wondered how many wizards had got their starts in tiny closet crawl spaces like this. But something nagged at him, like remembering a dream. Perhaps he’d known it all along.
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