Kurt smoothed his fine hair. “Just making the acquaintance of your friend here. You both left the train in such a hurry, we never had time for proper introductions.”
“When are we going to get those drinks you promised us, Brahm?” Although he still clutched his ribs, the lanky boy had recovered enough to give Brahm a goofy smile. He seemed oblivious to the tension still swirling between us all. Either that, or he was purposely trying to defuse it.
“Name the time and place,” Brahm said.
“Tausend’s. Tomorrow night?”
“Sure. Tausend’s, it is.”
“Have you come to place a bet?” Tashiana stepped around Brahm and glared at Kurt. “If so, then get inside and quit causing problems out here. I don’t need the attention your kind draws.”
“My kind?” Kurt blinked. A smile curled at the corner of his lips, and any lingering hostility flowed away like a cool breeze. “Tashi, why must you always be so intent on breaking my heart?”
Tashiana, who looked more like a warrior than the proprietor of a gambling den—although I supposed the two trades weren’t mutually exclusive—jabbed her finger toward the door. “I’ll break more than your heart if you don’t stop talking and get inside.”
Kurt held open the door. When the last of his group had traipsed past him, he threw a flirtatious glance at Tashiana. “Coming, my dear?”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re not half as charming as you think you are.”
“Oh, it’s much less than half,” I muttered.
Brahm coughed, covering a chuckle.
Kurt clutched his chest as if wounded, gave Tashiana a pained look, and stumbled inside. She let the door close behind him and pressed her lips into a grim line. “I don’t know how you can bear spending so much time with that one.”
“Believe it or not,” Brahm said, “he’s not as dumb as he looks.”
“That’s good.” I gathered Adaleize’s reins and trailed Brahm and Tashiana down the alleyway. I presumed she was leading us to our Magician. Or so I hoped. “Because he looks dumber than a box of hair.”
Tashiana’s laughter echoed through the alley like church bells. She was physically imposing but laughed like a child. “I like this one, Brahm.” She winked at me. “Do you have a brother, girl?”
“No.” I hoped to the gods she was trustworthy, because I liked her and would’ve hated to strike her down if she betrayed us. “I’m an only child.”
She punched Brahm’s shoulder and laughed again. “Too bad for you, boy. Too bad for you.”
Chapter 11
Tashiana escorted us through backstreets to another main thoroughfare. Leading our horses, Brahm and I followed her, weaving through traffic for several miles before she turned onto a quieter street. Looming in the distance, Lord Daeg’s castle perched atop a forested hillock, lording over the city like some all-seeing, all-knowing deity. A shiver crawled down my spine and kissed the backs of my knees.
The old gods were never omniscient, Grandfather said. Immortal, powerful, but as flawed as any man. Maybe more so.
Are you trying to ease my concerns? I asked. If so, it’s not working.
Tashiana stopped at the entrance of a shop with Apotheker Laurent scrawled across the dirty window in peeling black paint. She waited while Brahm and I tied our horses to hitching posts outside. Bells rang, announcing our entrance as we followed her into a gloomy space filled with rows of jars, wooden cabinets, and drawers labeled with unfamiliar words. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling rafters, and a fine layer of dust coated everything in a grimy patina. The space smelled of camphor, stale vegetation, and dried earth. I sneezed twice and rubbed my watering eyes.
As we trailed Tashiana to the back of the shop, I kept my attention glued on her broad back, purposefully ignoring a strange collection of skulls and shriveled things floating in large jars. We stopped before another closed door possibly leading to an office or storeroom, and Tashiana raised her fist to knock but paused.
“She is fragile, this one. Like a... a balloon that has been filled with too much air until her skin is thin and ready to burst from the strain. It is not air inside her, though.” She looked up and met my eyes, and her gaze was dark and heavy. “Understand?”
Not air but Magic. I nodded.
She knocked. “Brigette?”
Receiving no answer, she banged harder, rattling the door on its hinges.
This time, a muffled moan answered.
“Brigette. Open the door. I’ve brought visitors.” Tashiana twisted the knob and shoved her shoulder against the flimsy wood. The door resisted. She shoved again, and it gave way with a squeal of protest. More of the sickening burnt-sugar-and-flower odor I’d smelled at the gambling den wafted out in a blueish haze. I coughed and flapped my hands, clearing smoke.
The open door let in enough light to illuminate a small room with a peeling and battered writing desk, a stool, and a thin cotton-bound mattress covered in a pile of fabric scraps. I swallowed a yelp when the scraps moaned, shifted, and sat up.
Tashiana eased inside and knelt beside a withered skeleton. It wore a shapeless black rag that might’ve been a dress in a previous life. “Brigette.” Tashiana removed a smoking pipe with a long, narrow neck from Brigette’s fingers and set it on the desk beside a pair of spectacles. “Come, I’ve brought some people who want to talk to you. They want to offer you a job.”
I raised my eyebrow at Brahm and gave him a look that said, This is my Magician? You must be joking.
The look he gave me in reply said, I’m just as surprised as you.
And yet...
A strange sensation washed over me—a tingling impression of energy and potential. A low hum thrummed in my veins, raising goose bumps on my arms and making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
Tashiana scooped Brigette into her arms and heaved her up, though she couldn’t have weighed much. Brigette looked like a scarecrow held together by a few fraying threads. Tashiana carried her through the shop, and as she passed, I caught another whiff of whatever Brigette had been smoking mingled with the reek of dirty hair and body odor.
“Brahm,” Tashiana said, “grab her spectacles, will you?”
In the glare of daylight, Brigette looked even worse. Sallow skin hung from her bones like a dress too big for its form. Her face was gaunt, her dark hair a frizzy nest that would make any bird jealous. She wrenched her eyes shut and groaned again.
Tashiana shushed her and looked at me. “You want a Magician powerful enough to stand up to Le Poing Fermé? Then this is your girl.”
