“Aaaahhhh,” the crowd roared. Cheers—and jeers—filled the street outside the Rotten Apple, making it all the way across the river.
Somehow he’d done it. Epik was one dart away from a win. He had circled the entire board and now just had to close it out, make one last dart.
Epik had only had to buy the ranger two more rounds.
And the whole bar was invested in the game. Coe’s three dwarf friends gave the ranger as much ribbing as the rest of the bar’s patrons, maybe more. And even Rotrick had a bit of a funny grin on his face, watching Coe’s game go to shambles. It wasn’t as if Epik had been on some hot streak. No, he’d missed a fair few shots. But so had the ranger.
“Tomorrow,” Coe said, almost pleading. “Double or nothing?”
“How do you double not picking on me?” Epik grinned. He felt inflated. He felt invincible. And he thought he felt magic. It had been there in the back of his mind, like that night on the road back in the Bog. Only this time, Epik was in control. He was sure of it.
He had beaten the ranger—at the ranger’s own game. Well, pretty much. One more dart and the game would be over.
He raised the dart to his cheek; he threw. He missed.
The crowd groaned with the agony of a halfling missing a meal.
“Never mind,” Collus groused. He stood, wickedly in one motion. “I think I better just win this game now.”
The roar had died away. The laughter ceased—if it was ever really there at all. And there had only been the one scream. A scream could be anything, Todder thought. A purse thief. A domestic disturbance. Or God forbid, a murder.
It was the roar that confused him. And the fact that it came from the direction of Jersy, perhaps by the opening of the Wall, that made Todder run.
“What about the scream?” Brendan asked; he had run several feet in the other direction before turning back, seeing Todder going the other way.
“Well, she ain’t screaming now, is she?”
“Well, none of it is happening anymore. Not even that laughing.”
“Oh, you heard it too?”
Todder picked up his pace.
“Of course. It was all maniacal like. Should I go back and check out the scream?”
The boy wasn't even winded, keeping up with Todder's giant strides as they ran over the bridge.
“Believe there’s a rule about us workin’ in pairs,” Todder said.
“Right, the buddy system.”
“I’m not yer buddy,” Todder said, unkindly. “We’ll go back and check out the scream after this roar.”
Across the bridge, in Jersy, the streets were quiet. Only the light of the occasional street lamp or the glow lights of a bar lit the street. Even most of the stars had taken the night off, only a few of them hadn’t got the memo and came out to twinkle halfheartedly. It put Todder at ease to see the road so barren, so free of anything malevolent. His pace slackened. Then slowed to a trot as he saw that even the men left at the opening of the Wall were all calm; they looked to be asleep. He’d been worried over nothing.
Brendan ran up ahead of him. As the boy passed along the alley beside the Rotten Apple, he stopped dead in his tracks.
“You,” Brendan said to the dark alley, “stop!”
An audible gasp erupted from the bar.
Collus sauntered to the mark. All the ranger did was saunter. His whole look sauntered.
“And this is where your luck changes, little half man,” he said, sneering.
He looked different now, menacing in a way that Epik had never experienced. Frank Biggle had never been scary. Not really. A bully, yes, but scary, no. With Frank, there was always a way to even an unfair fight.
A dragon, Epik thought, was scary. But not like this. This was different. On the outside, the ranger pretended this loss was no big deal. But behind his eyes, there was a fire. Something told Epik, he’d made a grave mistake.
Even if the ranger won right now, Epik had already done too much damage.
Coe stretched out his arms, making space for himself as the crowd pressed inward toward the center of the room. The split in his shirt opened. Underneath it was all pectoral, spiral black chest hair, sweat, and that scar.
Again Epik felt the magic there in the back of his mind and this time he tried to will it away. To make it stop. It’s a mistake, he thought. On the boundary of Epik’s mind, the magic intensified. He could feel it, he could taste it, but he couldn’t control it.
Coe bent down; his right eye narrowed. With the slightest jerk, the dart flew for the board fast and straight. Until suddenly, it didn’t. The dart dove straight for the floor, crashing like a chicken that had jumped off the barn roof—like all its momentum had been lost halfway to the board.
The whole bar let out a gasp.
No one dared to breathe.
“What’d you find, boy?” Todder asked.
He took the turn into the dark alley and squinted into the dim gray night, just in time to see Gabby float down from a hover. The wizard had been peering into the bar from a high window.
“Stop what you’re doing now!” Brendan said, shaking.
The wizard held his wand firmly in hand above his shoulder, pointing it skyward rigidly like a fencer mid parry.
“No more magic!” Brendan said cautiously.
“Dammit,” Todder grimaced.
“What can I do for you, Officers?” Gabby said, calculated.
“You were doing magic, weren’t you?” Brendan said. “We saw it.”
“Henry,” the wizard said without pleading, “You know, I was just—”
“Just doing magic,” Brendan said. “Sarge, I saw him! Didn’t you? He floated out of the sky like a, like a bird.”
“Birds don’t float,” Gabby corrected him.
“I might’ve seen something,” Todder said, nodding.
Brendan pointed his pike at the man, but the wizard was still several feet away.
“Then we’ve got to take him in. We’ve got orders.”
“Albert,” Gabby said to Todder, still without pleading; it was a conversation. “I was just helping the halfling win a game. You were there, you know. It’s not as if I was doing high magic. I didn’t turn myself into a Phoenix and burst into flames.”
“You can turn yourself into a Phoenix?” Brendan said, amazed.
“Oh, I wish you hadn’t said Phoenix,” Todder said. He knew they should have investigated the damn scream—or even the weird laughter. Gabby was putting the sergeant in a bad position, made worse by the wizard still pointing his wand at them. On his belt, Todder wore two things: a sword, that hadn’t been unsheathed from its scabbard for at least five years, and a crossbow, loaded, without a catch. He’d somehow managed to keep it holstered there without shooting off his own foot. And now, he reached for it.
“We have to take—”
“I know what we have to do, boy!” Todder said.
“Listen,” Gabby started, “I hate to have to—”
The crowd in the bar roared again, sending Todder’s hands flying. He pointed the bow dead ahead and without meaning to, fired.
The wizard stopped the bolt in midair. He sighed. “Fine, if it means so much to you, I’ll go with you.” With a flick of his wand, he lowered the bolt to the ground, then placed his hands up in the air.
Todder holstered the bow.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “But you are under a rest.”
“It’s arrest, Sarge, one word,” Brendan said encouragingly.
“Really?”
“Really,” the boy said. He closed the gap on Gabby, pointing his spear at the wizard’s neck.
“Must go,” a voice whispered in Peggy’s ear. Though, Al was scrapping apart a building several city blocks away.
“Should leave now,” Boulder heard. He and Kelly had found they could fit many of the small humans into their sacks.
“The morning approaches.” The voice was faint in Al’s mind, almost as if he’d thought it himself.
&nbs
p; The trolls headed the warning. They left the city in haste, well before the sun began to creep its way into the heads of early risers. Few in the city had heard or saw them. Some believed the rumbling to be thunder. Others stirred slightly in the night. A couple of the older children7 (those not taken) had woken, but even they nodded back to sleep as if it had been a dream, a very strange dream.
Collus kicked Rotrick’s chair. The only problem was that the chair still had his friend on top of it. Rotrick spilled out onto the floor. The ranger started for the dwarves, who quickly leaped up, as they too went flying. Each chair crashed broken to the floor.
The ranger was in Epik’s face now, and his hand was clasped around the halfling’s small neck. His grip curled tightly like Epik’s throat was a bottle of good beer. Coe squeezed.
“You cheating little—“
Epik struggled for breath.
“Stop it!” Gerdy stepped in, and the ranger released some pressure but did not let go.
“I knew he had taken in with the wizard,” Coe growled. “But I didn’t think he knew any magic himself.” He looked at Gerdy. “Tell me that wasn’t some hocus pocus. Dart’s don’t just drop to the floor.” Coe searched the rest of the bar, pleading. “Come on! He cheated. This is bull—“
“You’ll keep a civil tongue,” Gerdy commanded. “You know it’s Dad’s one rule.”
Collus withdrew his hand. He fixed his shirt and put on his jerkin.
“The deal’s off,” he said, struggling to get out the words. “I don’t care how this last dart ends.”
Epik’s insides twisted, at odds with each other. If this was magic, he thought, couldn’t it do so much more than one win at a dart game? Couldn’t it protect him? Coe had all but confirmed it. Epik had done magic. He was sure of it now. He no longer cared about the ranger and his threats.
All Epik cared about was magic.
He aimed high at the board. And the moment the dart left his hand, he knew. He’d won.
The bar roared.
A short time later, it emptied. With it, a bit of Epik’s euphoria died away. He had done it, sure; he had beaten the ranger. He’d also succeeded in making many of the patrons happy or rich—the odds had been ten to one at the beginning of the match. Even the losers walked away with smiles on their faces. A halfling had bested an asshole.
Both Myra and Gerdy seemed elated, too. They’d been there behind him, encouraging him the whole time. And they stayed, talking and letting everyone out to the street, replaying the best parts.
“Did you see Coe’s face when the dart hit the floor?” Gerdy said.
Epik nodded, feeling guilty.
“Never seen somethin’ like that before,” Myra said. “Was it magic?”
Epik began to shrug, but Gerdy filled in the space. “Serves him right,” she said. “I don’t understand why a man who can slay dragons wants to pick on someone half his size.”
“Oh, I think I get it.” Myra winked. “You know, I heard a sayin’ about men with big feet. And Epik here’s got bigger feet than any man I’ve ever seen.”
“What was the saying?” Gerdy asked, skeptically.
“Was it that they wear big shoes?” Epik asked. “Because I normally don’t wear shoes.”
Myra rolled with laughter. “Somethin’ like that.”
Epik began to gather mugs and dishes.
“That can wait for morning. Let’s celebrate.” Gerdy stopped him, touching his hand. A tingle ran up his arm.
“You could walk me home?” Myra said suggestively.
“Right, I can.” A bit of elation came back into Epik’s red cheeks.
“I’ll come too,” Gerdy said briskly. And she filled a growler from the bar, taking it with them. “You get the first drink.”
She handed the ale to Epik, who took a large gulp. He smiled halfhearted. A walk, alone with Myra, would have capped off the perfect night. But he would take a walk—with ale—with friends any day.
The three of them headed for Madhattan, crossing the Sudden River, then north along Fifth Thoroughfare, which was still lit up like Christmas. Their talk centered on the dart game and how stupid Epik had been for suggesting it in the first place. Gerdy warned how dangerous Coe could be, but that was a problem for tomorrow. There were no problems tonight.
“You could have easily lost your whole week’s wages,” Gerdy scolded.
“I’d manage.”
“You think that. But I’ve seen how fond you’ve become of those pastries.”
“What the bloody hell happened?” Myra asked.
A broken cart lay half in the road and half on the roof of a butcher shop. The candle store, beside it, wasn’t as lucky. The whole storefront had caved in, a hole was punctured through the showroom wall and into the private bedchamber of the owner behind it. The scene was ghostly quiet for the loud city.
“Hello?” Gerdy said softly. “Anyone inside?”
Epik stepped over crumbled debris. “Hello?” he called.
“Let’s just go,“ Myra whisper yelled.
“Shhh,” Epik put a finger to his lips, “I think I hear something.”
The contents of a chamber pot were splattered and reeking across the walls, but nothing else was disturbed.
Epik looked around the room. He stooped, only a little, to see under the bed. Meow, the soft purr of a cat. “Only a kitty,” Epik said. With that, a gray tabby came scuttling out from under the bed; it jumped into Epik’s arms. “Oh,” he said. “Hello.”
He climbed out of the rubble. Gerdy took the cat lovingly in her arms. “Hello love,” she said with a nurturing tone. “Do you have a name?”
“What’d’ya think happened?” Myra asked.
“Don’t know,” Gerdy and Epik said as one.
Further along the street, it became apparent that the candle shop had not been a singular incident. The city had been under attack. Here the drunken idiots meandering out of bars were now the drunken idiots marveling at splintered poles and crumpled architecture.
“I left my cart right here,” one man said drunkenly.
“You’s too drunk to drive it anyway,” another yelled at him.
“But it was right here.”
“Could swear I had a shop window, yesterday,” said another.
“Just a thought,” Myra said. “Hear me out. But maybe we should be heading back to Jersy.” She grabbed Epik’s wrist, pulling him back. Another tingle shot up his arm, then to other places.
“Right,” he said without thinking.
“We could go back to the bar,” Gerdy offered.
“We could,” Epik said.
“Couldn’t we go back to your place?” Myra asked Epik.
“My place,” Epik said. “It’s just a closet, really. Not much room.”
“Sounds cozy,” Myra said. And Gerdy coughed.
It would have been cozy, but the girls shared Gabby’s empty bed. Epik wondered where the wizard had gotten off to. He curled up beside his new cat friend.
Epik’s dreams were plagued with dark images. Both Collus and Gabby made appearances. Finally, cozy morning light burned into Gabby’s upstairs apartment. The hot summer morning sent a pang of longing for the coolness of the Bog down Epik’s spine.
The girls had found a way to take every inch of Gabby’s bed. Gerdy snored with both legs wrapped around the sheet but out of it, while Myra slept almost entirely under it, up to her neck. The cat hopped up and took the last remaining sliver of space between the two. As she nuzzled there, Gertrude’s left eye popped open. Then she squeezed them both shut.
“Is it morning already?” She whispered softly around a yawn.
“It looks like it,” Epik said cheerily.
“Five more minutes.” She yanked the covers more to her side. But she was out of bed in three. They left Myra there asleep with the cat, both of them eager to figure out what they’d seen the previous night.
18
Arrested Development
Rumor spread through the city like w
ildfire, just a lot less green and flamey. Some stories claimed a legion of troops from King’s Way stormed the castle only to be fought off in the night by the Palace Guard. Others said a dragon swooped into the city, and after setting everything a fire, it dove headfirst into the loch.
“You mean the Bay?” Gerdy said.
“It’s what I heard,” said the seller, of what he claimed were fire retardant cloaks. “I’ve got a deal on them all day. I’m cuttin’ me own—“
“Neck?” Gerdy offered.
“Nah, me own arm. Cuttin’ me own neck would jus’ sound silly.”
“It doesn’t look like there was a fire,” Epik said observantly.
“Jus’ what I heard,” the seller said again.
In the dawn light, the dust had settled. Rumble was strewn in the streets; some streets were shattered. It all looked still in time. Epik searched again the apartment where they had found the cat.
“Denise,” he called. “Hello?” But Denise was gone.
Up the street, they found a more accurate account of the carnage.
“Trolls is what I heard,” said Carnie Brewer, the coffee seller. “But they’s got a wizard up on charges at the castle.”
“I thought they’d closed you down?” Gerdy said. “I came by the other day, and you were gone.”
“Aye, they did,” Carnie said. “It’s my first day back. The Grand Counselor reinstated me himself. He says I’m not to call ‘em magic beans anymore.” She shrugged. “Don’t change the product though. These are magic beans. Well, they are once they run through those magical cats of the Molar Mountains, mind.”
“The magical cats?” Gerdy winced, disgusted. Carnie had scratched the word magic from her cart. It now read Magic Coffee Bean & Pipe Leaf.
“This wizard,“ Epik started, “do you know who he is?”
“Oh, ya know, the fella with the supply shop over in Jersy… Could I interest ya in some brew? On the house this morning. I offer to all sizes, tall or short.”
“Gabby,” Epik mouthed.
“No, thank you,” Gerdy said. She made a quick face of revulsion, and they both hurried toward the castle.
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