by Joe Kuster
“I’d give about anything for a book on this. I’m just flying blind until my patron can find me. Do you think the difference is because you don’t follow the same religion or god that Gerald represents?” TJ asked.
“Ah, that might make sense. I left the church once I was old enough to realize that Timarat doesn’t look kindly on women who do more than serve men and pop out babies,” she said.
TJ scrunched up his face. “They exclude you from services or something like that?”
She scoffed. “Hardly. Any woman of age who doesn’t follow their wifely code has an afterlife of being gang-raped for eternity, but they don’t tell girls until they reach their maturity. They use it to bully them into marrying early and being subservient to their husbands. It’s never mentioned in standard services, just the segregated study groups for women. I doubt my father knew about it at all.”
“Shit. That’s messed up. Isn’t there someone else you could have pledged to?” TJ asked.
She shrugged. “We used to have a priest for Ratamit as well. They are twin deities and are supposed to work together in balance. I considered converting, but Ratamit’s clergy left once most of the brick workers left town. That left Gerald as the only priest for the entire village, and he complains that he can only do so much for anyone that isn’t a follower. Cuts, bruises, and lowering fevers are about all he can manage for those that aren’t counted among the faithful.”
“Huh, I guess it makes sense in a messed-up way. His god wouldn’t want to empower those who aren’t in his dominion. It’s how they get power. Spending power to build power is their normal approach. Most of them are selfish assholes that don’t like sending divine energy where they aren’t getting something in return, from what I’ve gathered. Gerald’s magic being limited might be a kind of punishment for him trying to empower someone that doesn’t worship Timarat. He may not realize helping outsiders slowly loses him favor,” TJ replied.
Rachel tapped her lip with a finger. “That’s an interesting point. Although that poses a question. Most priests won’t shut up about their patron, but you haven’t even named yours. I don’t follow them, and I haven’t promised anything in return, but if you follow your logic, they must like me for some reason for your magic to work so well.”
The energy in his chest wobbled and swished in a way that made its motives transparent. His magic seemed to be a living thing and actively wanted to connect to Rachel. Intimately and repeatedly.
“I guess at this point it doesn’t matter, you know everything else. My patron’s name is Lady Serina,” TJ confessed.
“Serina… that’s a pretty name,” Rachel said.
TJ nodded. “While I can’t speak for her directly, my magic likes you. A lot. Although I suspect that might be due to how you make me feel and how my bindings are set up.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Feel?”
“I… uh…” he gestured to her figure and gave a helpless shrug.
“Oh,” she spluttered, then put a hand over her face, embarrassed.
Her dark hair slipped forward, obscuring her eyes completely, but he could see the red hue to her cheeks through a few strands.
After a bit of walking, she said, “Sorry about the thing earlier. I really did think they’d robbed you and dumped your body. I grew up with Bethany, and she’s a nice girl, but I wouldn’t put it past her trying to push her luck. Abby is… weird, but she seems harmless. She showed up out of nowhere on the outskirts of town last month. It happens often enough, but they usually are forbidden from talking about it. I suspect she’s from somewhere very different from here.”
“Yeah, she’s a bit unusual. The things she wanted me to do to…” TJ cleared his throat and tried to get back on track. “But, uh, if you want, I can stay away from… procured affections. If we’re traveling together, the least I can do is be considerate. That was just the quickest way to have my magic quit stabbing me over and over. It hurts, and I couldn’t think straight. I’m not saying it’s the same as bad cramps, but there are parallels,” TJ said.
Rachel seemed to chew on that and motioned across the street to a general store.
She gave a long sigh. “My family isn’t going to start throwing stones at working girls. My mother died in a riding accident when I was nine, and my father never remarried. So… he used to spend a lot of time at the Red Briar. Madam Cintra is practically family and comes over for holidays. Her and father… well, that’s tricky territory, but I wouldn’t have recommended the place if I were going to get offended.”
“You seemed pretty upset,” TJ said.
She sighed. “I think I was angry you made me worry so much only for you and the booby monster to have been, well… there are polite words for it, but what you were doing doesn’t rate them. It was kind of a slap to the face, to be honest. Although I think I’m starting to understand your situation a bit better.”
“Booby monster? Seriously?” TJ asked with a chuckle.
She complained, “Abby’s tits are huge! They were bouncing everywhere.”
TJ started to point out that he thought Rachel was absolutely gorgeous but somehow held his tongue. He was more of a fan of diversity in his enjoyment of the female form than having a specific body type that drew his eye, and the double handful she had looked stunning on her smaller frame.
After a moment, Rachel chuckled. “So, you really kept them both, uhm, occupied for a day straight?”
TJ blushed. “I kind of lost myself in the magic. Turns out healing works for all sorts of stuff. I’m not even sleepy.”
“Impressive,” she chuckled.
Switching topics, TJ asked with no small amount of concern, “I’ve never traveled before, and I don’t know what we need. I, uh, hate to ask, but can I afford this?”
Rachel nodded. “Oooh, yeah. It’s not enough to retire on, but around here, your half of the six hundred gold is enough to build a home and live comfortably for several years if you wanted.”
“If the bounty was worth that much, why didn’t someone else go after it?” TJ asked.
Rachel replied, “The guard wouldn’t touch those hounds, since dealing with cursed beasts isn’t in their contracts unless they attack the town itself. At the same time, their contract forbids freelance work. The Mastersons own the brickyard and low bid the first bounty contract, so no one came. Realizing that they would go broke if they didn’t do something, they had just increased it by tenfold and convinced the county to match their funds last month. You were rather lucky with your timing, I’m sure a few bounty hunters are going to be furious when they finally show up to find you’ve already collected.”
“What are you doing with your half?” TJ asked.
She gave a soft laugh. “I’ll invest it when I get a chance. I’ve been saving for a dowry for a long time. My father is horrible with money. I know he’ll try to use that as an excuse to put things off longer. The more I put back, the better my options should be.”
Shifting topics, she added, “At any rate, you should be able to afford a few mounts and kit yourself out so you can do… well, a bit of whatever you want. Really, this is only to get you to Ardsville so you can exchange your gold without causing chaos.” Rachel pulled a sheet of parchment from her satchel. “Here, I made a list of recommendations that should fit your budget. I worked on this yesterday while I was putting my things together. We can give Hesta the list, and she’ll work out deals with everyone else for a small commission. Otherwise, we’d be running around and haggling for days.”
Easing through the mercantile door, the matronly-looking shopkeeper he assumed was Hesta gave a brief wave of acknowledgment. She then resumed her conversation with a customer in the far corner. They seemed to be in a deep conversation as they inspected a thick rug. TJ took the opportunity to open the note and began skimming it.
The impressively long list covered a bit of everything for a year-long expedition. Rachel had made bulleted details for trail rations, tents, bedrolls, pots, pans, a trail stove, utens
ils, clothes, and shoes for every type of weather. She had repair equipment for horse tack, spare wagon axles, extra boards, nails, ball bearings, glue, grease, and every type of supply needed to craft impromptu repairs for clothing.
Assuming trails might be blocked, or they might need to ford a river, she had block and tackle, rope, climbing equipment, saws, and miscellaneous hand tools. She’d also added a list on the side that was simply goods that could be procured cheaply and bartered, including some furs, cheap jewelry, local jams and jellies, and some copper ingots that were produced in the nearby city of Skyridge.
At the very bottom, Rachel had circled a possible list of weapons that he might want to consider. She’d underlined the ranged ones, assuming he’d like to be out of melee distance, but she’d included backup weapons and even pouches to contain various equipment. The amount of thought she’d put into it was impressive.
“You’ve got me starting a trade expedition?” TJ asked.
Rachel replied, “That’s not too far from the truth. If you’re ok with it, anyway. To be honest, you’ve got the funds, and I got a deal on the last wagon anyone was willing to part with and three horses. The wagon is a bit manky, but I think it’ll hold up until we get to the city. We’ll either have it repaired or replace it. There wasn’t anything better to be had. The guard operates out of this backwater village because it’s in the middle of the county’s biggest three cities. There’s not much else here other than the brickworks.
“Once that shut down, most of the merchants left. What’s still here is the stuff they didn’t hire extra wagons to haul with them and can be gotten on the cheap. If you don’t use it, you can always offload it and probably make a bit of profit. If we end up heading north to the elven lands, goods to barter are better than the coin. They get touchy about anything being minted with our king’s image. They welcome traders, but aren’t big fans of his.”
“Huh. This is incredibly well planned out. I’m impressed; I wouldn’t have thought of most of this stuff. How’d a guard commander’s daughter end up with such a head for business?” TJ asked.
Rachel blushed at the compliment. “I’m no prodigy, but father never learned numbers, so he hired tutors for me. I’ve been doing our finances and helping manage the equipment and pay for the guard for a long time. We rotate guards into other cities after they are trained here. Criminals always think they can become a crooked guard to help their sketchy friends or accept bribes, but relocating them and cycling out their patrol members means they get caught pretty quickly and can’t keep a grift going. The logistics of keeping them fed, housed, and paid when they are moving around is way more complicated than you’d expect. That and I’m expected to run a household someday. We’re at the lowest strata of the landed nobility. No one cares what I do for now, but there are certain expectations down the road.”
“Nobility?” TJ asked. It seemed every transplant into the Meadow had a different take on that word and what it meant. He’d taken to automatically tuning out whatever Archduke-so-and-so insisted on debating with a newly arrived Fon-Fon-Ru over who was higher in status. It usually got ridiculous as they tried to upstage one another and resorted to claims of being sought after by over ten thousand suitors and such. After they lived together long enough, they too stopped bringing it up.
They all drank the same watered-down beer, shat in the same wooden outhouses, and were equally likely to end up dying due to the whims of their hosts. Abject poverty and the looming threat of a messy death were startlingly good at bringing high-borns and lowlifes together around a pint of ale.
She shrugged. “Father earned a House and title after leading fighting men in a few wars, but it is only a minor manor in the middle of nowhere. It also means I’d have to move to a city to begin courting anyone. It’s kind of complicated, and he’s dragging his feet. I suspect father keeps us out here because he’s already scared off anyone in my age grouping. If he has his way, I’ll die an old maid. I’m already three years older than my mother was when she had me. So, I don’t really have much else to do but wander around with the guard and prepare for the inevitable.”
“Well… thank you. I get the feeling I was incredibly lucky to run into you,” TJ said.
She beamed. “It’s nothing. I already owe you my life, after all.”
TJ felt a familiar pressure surround him. Something about it made him cringe as it poked around in his essence well. His magic tried to reach out, but he mentally slapped its knuckles and jerked it away. It had the same feel as when she’d said something similar when they were stuck in the tree.
He didn’t know what would happen if he let it connect, but he wasn’t going to risk that casually. The last time he’d felt the pressure this strong was when swearing his oaths.
Memories of Serina’s tear-streaked face as she pushed him through the portal flitted into his mind, and he found himself amid a tidal wave of loneliness and grief. He might never see her again, and if he did, she might have moved on by the time he could find her. He’d found love, only to have lost it in the most painful way he could imagine. She was out there somewhere looking for him, but he couldn’t get to her.
Unaware of TJ’s inner turmoil, Rachel continued, “I’d have been monster scat if you hadn’t turned up. It’s hard to believe that the only reason you came to my rescue was that I remind you of some exotic and beautiful woman from another realm.”
She closed her eyes and held her face at an upturned angle that exposed her neck. She’d put both hands behind her head, running her fingers through her hair. It was an eerily accurate pose to something her Deva doppelganger might have done.
His heart sped up, but then Rachel opened her blue eyes. TJ’s smile faltered, and he had to look away as the crushing disappointment hit him like a hammer to the face.
Swallowing hard and fighting against confusing impulses, he fished in his robes and pulled out his bulging coin pouch. He pocketed a handful, then dropped the remaining amount on the counter.
His voice wavered as he said, “The list is fine. Just… pick me up a crossbow or something. I… I need to find somewhere to think for a bit.”
Rachel started to say something, but he quickly turned away and walked out the door.
He had a sudden and burning need to start drinking. Heavily.
Chapter 11
TJ’s feet dangled over the edge of the stone bridge as he dropped pieces of bread to the ducks below. Three empty whiskey bottles lay scattered around him. In between tossing crumbs, he held his hand over the water and shook it, as though he was expecting something to happen.
Giving up at his failed attempt to summon the sparkling fire again, TJ rubbed at his temples. He’d been trying to force his magic for so long that it had given him an intense headache.
The local booze wasn’t helping. It was harsh, abrasive stuff, but somehow still hadn’t gotten him drunk. Well, perhaps he was drunk, but not nearly enough to counteract his frustration. He felt ready to burst with magical potential but couldn’t even get the glittering thing from the day before.
The thin stuff from before had moved with relative ease compared to the much denser essence he held inside himself now. Intuition was telling him that hadn’t been a spell; it felt far too forced. He’d lost track of time, but it was past sunset, and he’d been at this long enough his backside was numb.
Soft footsteps on the nearby boardwalk pulled him from his attempts to create mallard à la flambé. Glancing over, he noticed Rachel approaching with a leather pack slung over her shoulder. She was still in her fancy blue dress, but she’d added a series of pouches and a dagger in a leather sheath.
“I take it my savior regrets coming to my aid,” Rachel hedged.
Letting his head drop into his hands, he grumped, “Couldn’t have what I want, even if I hadn’t. Until I get some sort of help with my magic, there’s no way I’ll ever get back to Serina. Bring her here… whatever. I’m stuck in this fucked up world, and I don’t think she will find me anytime soon
. I could have gone anywhere in that portal. Literally any paradise I could dream up, but here I am.”
“I was beginning to suspect as much,” Rachel said.
She eased down next to him, her skirt fluttering in the soft breeze next to his dangling feet. She pulled at her long black braid so that it rested in her lap, then inspected him.
“It sounds like you need to make the best of a bad situation then,” she offered.
TJ grumbled, “Something like that.”
Rachel picked at the stale loaf of bread between them and pulled a chunk free. Taking careful aim, she plopped it into the water next to one of the birds. It dove at the crumbs, gobbled it down, and quacked happily.
He patted his chest. “I hated where I came from, but I miss it. The azure skies. The tall trees and lush grass. The sun had this kind of warmth that I don’t feel here. It’s… hard to explain. I feel like I’m withering bit by bit the longer I’m away, and I have no idea what to do about it.”
Rachel tossed another crumb, then brushed her hand off on her dress. “You’d have no way of knowing this, but my mother wasn’t from here, either. She had a geas on her so she couldn’t talk about it. In her journal, she complained about not having these moving drawings with sound. She’d write for pages about cats with bread around their head, or them jumping when you put a cucumber behind them. She spent a dozen pages on this meal made from bread, mashed tomatoes, and topped with cheese. It never made any sense. It looked like insane rambling, but really, she was just homesick.”
TJ bobbed his head. “She might have dealt with the same thing, but I think it’s more than that. The portal changed me, and now a big part of me is missing. I feel like my magic is the answer, but I don’t know how to unlock it. I don’t know what to try or even how to get started. Healing works, but it doesn’t scratch that itch. Thinking back, that might have been a latent talent I already had but didn’t have enough magic of my own to put it to use. Once Serina started putting essence in me, wounds mended faster than normal if I focused on them. Meanwhile, whatever that hole in me is waiting for, it’s something else.”