by A Clarkson
Straightening his ruffled appearance, Magnus quickly removed all evidence of their passion from only moments before. “I can’t work with people who are trying to get themselves killed, Ira. It puts others at risk. Others who depend on me and my judgement to keep them safe. What you did tonight was reckless. You could have been killed and Margo almost was. It was selfish and irresponsible and I can’t risk it happening again.”
“You’re right.”
Ira straightened off the door, anger clouding her eyes as she stared down at him sitting calmly at his desk, as though she was some recalcitrant child in need of scolding. How dare he? How dare he flip so easily from hot to cold, as though it didn’t faze him. As though it didn’t matter. As though she didn’t matter.
“I’m out. Because I clearly can’t trust you either,” she seethed, hurt leaking out of her voice. “You know more than you are telling me. You have since the start. And unless you start talking, we’re done. I’m done.”
Moving as quickly as she could on her injured leg, Ira turned and limped out the door.
Ira wanted to leave the barge the moment she left the office. He had been such an ass.
Yes she had gone out, but she had taken backup. Isn’t that what he wanted? Isn’t that why she was given a bodyguard? Why did he think that wasn’t enough? Did he know about the Brotherhood? Did he know why they wanted to attack her? Was it really just because she looked like one of these Ravens?
And the way he kissed her, with all that heat and passion, only to switch it off like a light burned out. How could he make her feel this way? How could he make her feel so many things at once? Once again she was embarrassed and angry and so very frustrated!
But Ira couldn't leave, she needed medical attention, and pronto. She was barely able to walk back into the barge on her leg, only doing so out of the sheer pride of not wanting to be carried in from Magnus’ horse. And that little stint in the office didn’t help. She thought it was likely dislocated again, so she wasn’t going anywhere straight away.
Limping down the hall, Ira went in search of Lee.
The surly man grunted at her in disapproval for getting so beat up, but cleaned her up, and fixed the makeshift bandages she applied at Francis’, as well as lathering her various cuts and bruises in that incredible ointment.
Ira sighed in relief as the pain instantly began to subside. That stuff really was magical.
Chapter 20
The Confession
The cottage was quiet. It always was a quiet and peaceful space, neither Bill nor Clarisse were particularly loud people. But now it held a different kind of silence.
Rather than the quiet of a calm sea, the cottage now held that strained stillness that came with uncertainty and fear. It felt more like the silence in the forest when a predator was nearby and the eyes and ears hidden by the trees tensely held their breath as they waited for the threat to pass.
Moving through the deserted rooms Ira felt as though she were walking on a tightrope and the smallest misstep would lead to a catastrophe.
Silently, she climbed the stairs and opened the bedroom door.
Just as she remembered, the small wooden jewelry box sat on the dresser. Hidden in plain sight for all to see - should anyone choose to look, Ira supposed.
Picking up the box, Ira moved to sit on the bed, as she had the other day with Magnus.
Everything had gone wrong. In the past two weeks everything in her life was ripped apart, sewn back together, and then torn apart a second time for good measure.
Ira didn’t know what was going on anymore. She was tired, she was angry, she was hurting. But most of all she was sad.
She was so terribly sad.
Clarisse and Bill were the only two people in her life that she ever really cared about, and she still hadn’t given herself a moment to pause and grieve them.
She feared that if she let herself succumb to the sadness that had slowly been crawling up her back, she would fall to pieces. And without Bill and Clarisse to pick her up, she wasn’t sure she would be able to put herself together again.
Ira knew he was standing in the doorway long before he spoke. She wasn’t surprised he followed her here. She hadn’t tried to hide her movements, not silly enough to risk disappearing and being caught out again by someone trying to kill her.
But she also didn’t ask his permission, or fill him in on her plan. She was pissed at him.
She hadn’t done anything reckless or intentionally dangerous last night. She spent her whole life moving around this city late at night, and murderer or no, she thought it would be safe enough to dart to the cottage and back, especially with backup.
She had clearly been wrong, and Ira felt a huge weight of guilt pressing down on her chest for the harm she caused the other woman.
But without all the relevant information how could Ira be expected to make the best decisions? She couldn’t plan for an enemy she didn’t know existed. And Magnus had clearly been withholding information.
“There is a hit out on you,” he said simply
She didn’t respond, feeling like he owed her more of an explanation than that.
“That attack on our party back in the Blue Desert,” he paused to let out a heavy sigh as though this admission lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders. “They weren’t thieves taking advantage of a wealthy party passing by, they were a hired crew with a contract to take you out.”
She remembered thinking at the time that they hadn’t looked much like your average highwaymen, too well armed for sure. They also attacked in a much more aggressive way than other bandits, trying for multiple kill shots, rather than just attempting to subdue and rob the small caravan.
But a hit squad? For Ira? Were they hired by the Brotherhood? Based on the men she fought last night it certainly didn’t seem like they needed any hired help.
“Why?” she asked in a weak voice.
She wasn’t sure what she was asking exactly. Why were they after her? Why had he lied? Why was her world falling apart? Why would someone want her dead?
Her mind flashed to the angry eyes of the man she killed last night. Well, one of the men, she thought sadly. Ira had never taken a human life before this week. And now? Now she had killed five men. Six if you counted the one Margo finished off last night.
Ira couldn’t understand why he had been so angry. Was he angry that he was dying? She could understand that. Ira would have been angry to die too. But she felt as though that wasn’t it.
Was he angry that he failed to kill her when she succeeded? Angry that he gambled with his life and lost? Or, was he angry at her? What could she have done to deserve such hatred? Did he believe that she really was tainted with evil from the dragon eye like Francis said? Were these men so corrupted by the venom Alto fed them that they truly hated a woman they had never met before, purely because she was in possession of a pretty rock?
“We don’t know,” Magnus answered simply. Unknowingly responding to several of her internal questions all at once.
They didn’t know. Wasn’t that the crux of the matter? They seemed to be chasing their tails in circles and moving no closer to understanding what was going on.
And now Ira had the added threat of random contract killers trying to get the jump on her when she least expected it.
“All we do know is that the hit was first put out by a Citadel messenger.” She looked up at him in surprise, “And that the same messenger was found dead that very afternoon. Whoever put out the hit, cleaned up his tracks,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re working with Pete to look further into it, but so far nothing.”
“That was some stupid macho bullshit to keep that from me,” Ira told him, “You can’t do that again. If something involves me, I need to know about it. No matter what.”
Magnus nodded his head in acceptance, and she left the topic there. There wasn’t anything else to say until they knew more about what was going on. She considered telling him about the Brotherhood, but decided to
leave it for the moment. Whatever the reason they were after her, Ira didn’t feel as though it was connected to their investigation. It seemed personal.
“Is that it?” she asked in a tired voice.
Magnus nodded, his eyes unsure and filled with uncertainty of his welcome.
She gave him a sad smile and patted the bed beside her, inviting him to sit with her as he had the other day.
“Ok,” he said with a sigh of relief as he joined her on the bed, “Your turn. What’s with the box?”
Looking down at the small wooden box she still held in her hands, Ira took a deep breath, and told Magnus about her dream.
“It seems crazy, and honestly, I’m not really sure myself what to think about it,” she said after recounting the odd exchange, and the realization that the man in her dream was real. “I just have this gut feeling that it’s more than just a dream.”
“And you think that is the same box you saw Alistair give Clarisse?” he asked, as though it really happened, and hadn’t simply been a figure of her imagination.
She nodded. Unable to voice her deep heartfelt gratitude that he didn’t simply dismiss the idea as madness. His faith in her meant a lot more than she realised.
“You could have told me this, you know. I wouldn’t have dismissed it.”
She looked into his eyes and could see only sincerity shining there. Was he right? Would he have believed her last night if she approached him saying she dreamt of a wooden box that may or may not be the reason behind these murders? Ira wasn’t sure, and couldn’t bring herself to accept or deny his claim.
“So? What’s in there?” he asked, flicking a finger toward her hands.
“I haven’t been able to open it yet,” Ira confessed. She looked down nervously at the wooden box in her hands. “What if something terrible is in there?”
“You won’t know until you look.”
Nodding reluctantly, Ira took a deep breath, and lifted the lid.
It was empty.
***
Magnus and Ira found a kind of peace after their conversation in the cottage. Ira was still annoyed that he kept the information about the attacks from her. But he acknowledged that it was the wrong move, and she accepted that his contrition was genuine.
He hadn’t actually apologised, but she understood that. She hadn’t either and had messed up and kept things from him too. Together their combined lack of honesty resulted in Margo getting hurt, and she knew he felt just as guilty as she did about it. It was written across his face plain as day. She didn’t need to compound that with her own hurt feelings.
They decided to head back to Flor’s where they could wallow in their mutual guilt over beer.
The bar was crowded with the usual mix of people from the city’s different rings. Flor always had a knack for bringing people together in a casual and comfortable way, and her bar was a prime example of that.
Merchants and intellectuals sat alongside dock hands and maids, having heated discussions over inexpensive beer and delicious food. It was an easy place to disappear and be absorbed into the crowd, something that Ira regularly took advantage of when she was looking to drink away her sorrows.
A familiar giggle announced the presence of Suzie. Ira couldn’t hear what the girl was saying, but based on the eyes she was flashing Magnus’ way, she guessed it had something to do with the General.
“Do you want to tell me what happened back at the barge?” Ira asked after a moment of silence stretched between them.
To say there was a new awkwardness between them would have been an understatement.
There was a tension simmering in the air that had not been there before, a strained pressure that burned with heat with every furtive glance and accidental touch.
Ira wasn’t sure they could go back to how they had been. She had seen the passion Magnus bottled inside. Felt the power when it was unleashed. They couldn’t continue to work together without addressing it. Ira didn’t know what she wanted to happen, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand this building pressure for much longer without exploding.
She was also pissed with the way he turned from burning hot to arctic cold. He dismissed their moment of passion as though it was nothing. At the very least she deserved an explanation for his bipolar behaviour.
Heat flashed in Magnus’ eyes at the memory of their shared kiss in his office. He managed to hide it quickly, but that was all the confirmation Ira needed to know he had been just as caught up in their shared passion.
“I’m sorry I lost control,” he said calmly.
Ira glared at him. “Bulltshit,” she hissed. “What the hell is wrong with you Magnus? What is your deal?”
His eyes flashed with a different kind of heat, one filled with anger as he growled, “I’m trying to do the right thing here Ira.” He rubbed his brow, a gesture filled with frustration. “You just lost your parents. I am not going to take advantage of you right now.”
She stared at him for a moment before she laughed bitterly and said with a sneer, “What kind of patriarchal bullshit is that? You don’t want to take advantage of little old me? I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Magnus. Even if they do turn out to be a mistake.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to be a mistake!” he exploded in return. “Maybe I don’t want to be taken advantage of either! Did you ever think of that?” he hissed. “Maybe I want to know that you are with me because you want me, not just some faceless person to distract you for five-damn minutes!” The passion in his eyes was so blatant now that it caused Ira to catch her breath.
“You’re hurting,” he said more calmly, “I know that. And I want to be here for you. I like you.” He took a deep breath before adding. “If you need to lose yourself in someone’s skin, that’s fine, you won’t hear any judgement coming from me. But it won’t be mine.”
Ira was speechless for a moment. She hadn’t expected that his rejection was an act of self-preservation. Ira certainly hadn’t expected to find herself comforting him!
But here she was, reaching her hand across the table to clamp his, as she said simply, “Ok. I get it.”
Bringing her other hand to her heart in a gesture that mirrored his from just a few days earlier, she echoed his words back to him. “This will keep.”
They sat silently like that for a few moments, eyes locked together, before she slowly pulled away.
There was still a palpable tension between them, but it was better somehow. Ira didn’t feel as hurt or rejected by Magnus anymore. Their feelings were bared open for each other to see.
In an effort to bring them back to lighter topics, Ira cocked a brow at him and asked in amusement, “Five minutes? Really?”
Magnus just laughed and stood to get another round of beer.
The moment he left Suzie came over from the bar and moved to take Magnus’ seat. Clearly the hand holding was the girl’s breaking point.
“He can do better than you, Slug Grub,” she said with a sneer.
What had Ira done to deserve this tonight, of all nights? The one time she was really not looking for a fight.
Internally Ira groaned in frustration, but externally she merely looked up at the girl in feigned confusion.
“I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree on that, because I’m incredible.”
With an air of nonchalance she knew would grate on the young woman’s pride, Ira looked away, effectively dismissing her as she said, “You can go now.”
“I know what you did,” Suzie replied with a large amount of gloating, settling more comfortably into Magnus’ seat.
In response to Ira’s questioning brow, the young girl continued, “That necklace you’re wearing. The one you were playing with the other night, I know you stole it from Ms Pierce’s place.” Suzie wore a very satisfied smug grin, “You should be ashamed. I ought to tell the General.”
Ira scoffed and flashed a hand toward Magnus’ approaching figure. “Be my guest. I have no idea what you’re talking
about. I’ve owned this necklace my whole life.”
Wearing a determined expression, Suzie leapt to her feet, and ran off to intercept Magnus.
Ira watched in dismay as he turned curious eyes toward her, and felt her hand move subconsciously to cover the amulet around her neck. Silently she scolded herself for her old habit of playing with the amulet as Francis’ warnings came back. She already had a target on her just for owning the damn necklace. She didn’t need to make things worse by flashing it about all the time.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled under her breath as Magnus and Suzie began to move back toward their table, Suzie’s face filled with a victorious smirk.
“Suzie here just told me the oddest story,” Magnus began, but Ira cut him off.
“You cannot possibly believe -”
Magnus interrupted her, “That you stole the necklace you are wearing from Ms Pierce’s home? No. Of course not.” Magnus turned toward Suzie, whose face began to lose it’s smug expression, “But I am very keen to know why Ms Wilson here thinks that you did.”
Suzie looked suddenly appalled at having her accusations turned around, and crossed her arms in a wonderful impression of a petulant toddler. “I know that belongs to Ms Pierce! I saw her wearing it! She wore it every day for weeks! Never took the damn thing off!”
Magnus nodded his head, “And I believe you.”
Suzie’s frown softened, “So you know she” - this was accompanied with a firm point toward Ira - “must have stolen it!”
Ira threw her hands up in frustration. “She’s an idiot Magnus, she’s just making things up to stir trouble because she doesn’t like me.”
Magnus gave Suzie a thoughtful look, as if considering Ira’s point, before shaking his head slightly. “No, I don’t think so.” Suzie was looking smug once again until Magnus continued. “ Suzie here is a gossip, not a gambler. She couldn't have known for sure where that necklace came from, so making up a story like this could have easily backfired. What if it was a gift from me?” He shook his head again, “I think she is being honest, which means the real question we should be asking is why was Ms Pierce wearing your necklace?”