“What ‘ave we ‘ere?” the man asked, standing. A big fellow, his nose bigger still. The others stood with him, each pulling a knife or club from their coats.
“Lost your way, ‘ave you?” the man asked, hefting a brick in his hand. “Tell you wha’, give us all you got, and we’ll handle you real gentle-like.”
“You don’t want to do this, gentlemen,” I said, gathering will. They’d disregard my words, but honor demanded I allow them the chance to walk away.
“Oh, I think we do. Get ‘im boys,” Mr. Brick shouted. His men roared and charged me.
“Tempestas.” I kindled the spell and sent a funnel of wind at him. It struck him full in the chest, sending him flying into a wall. He grunted, then collapsed unconscious on the ground.
One with a knife came in low, trying to drive the blade into my belly.
“Prohibeo te,” I shouted.
The man stopped as if his feet abruptly rooted to the ground. I spun my will in a glove of air around about my fist and struck him in the face. The first spell collapsed, and he sailed into the other two men, bowling them over.
Have you lost your mind? Vex screamed in my head. You cannot use magic like this in front of normal humans.
They attacked, I responded, gathering will as the last two tried to clamber to their feet.
They are normal humans! Put them to sleep for heaven’s sake!
My ears burned red at the simplicity of Vex’s solution. I kindled will and said, “Dormite.”
The spell settled over the last two like a blanket. Their eyes rolled back in their heads, and they collapsed. Moments later, their snores filled the little courtyard.
And you wonder why the Synod thinks so little of you, Vex hissed, his anger smoldering. You say you want respect, but you show nothing but poor judgment and cause nothing but harm. No wonder the Archmage calls you the wickedest man in England.
His words pierced deeper than any blade.
I took in the sight before me. Our fight left four men strewn about the courtyard. Two slept peacefully without a scratch. The other two…well, I might as well have been a champion boxer fighting a toddler. I knelt by the man I had thrown against the wall and opened my Second Sight. My assault had fractured multiple ribs and broke his elbow.
If I had said nothing, you would have left him here with injuries he could never recover from, Vex said, digging the knife deeper.
I kindled will into a healing spell and laid my hand upon him. Once I put him back to right, I did the same with the second man.
Fortune favors you that these men hold no societal standing, Vex said after I healed them. Word will not likely reach the Knight Mages. Think before you act.
“Shut up!” I shouted into the courtyard, not caring who heard. “I understand that I erred, but they attacked first. I defended myself, and I put them back together.”
No reason existed for breaking them in the first place. Remember, you held their lives in your hands. Not the other way around. He fell silent.
I screamed a curse at him but received no response.
It took a moment to calm myself and clear Vex’s final words from my mind. I needed to get back to my hunt. Checking my finding spell again, I found Jones closer than ever before. In fact, he raced toward me. I hurried from the little courtyard toward my mark, the pull of the spell growing stronger with every step.
I entered another small courtyard. Windows lined the walls of this residential section. The finding spell pounded in my head like tribal drums. I almost stood on top of him. Straining my ears, I listened for footfalls but heard nothing.
Opening my Sight, the swirling eddies of magic permeating the ancient city lit up the courtyard. I cast about, looking for the man I lost my day searching for. I saw nothing, and no one. But still, the drums beat on.
Something solid landed on my shoulder, causing me to stumble, and a furry head rubbed my face. The drums ceased as it continued to rub against me, purring loudly, and I realized what I had spent the day chasing.
A damn bloody cat.
5
The Salisbury
The sun had westered while I had chased my feline friend around the city. The cat in question rode my shoulder as I emerged out of the alley and back onto the street proper. In my Second Sight traces of magic rested upon her, but nothing out of the ordinary. Cats possess a natural magic, mostly for protection and mischief, which makes them desirable as familiars. I reached up to scratch her chin, and she extended her neck, purring against my ear.
“What a bloody thorn in my side,” I said.
She purred louder in response, and I found it hard to remain angry.
God help me, I had wasted the day chasing a cat. I felt like a fool for not realizing the hair in the envelope wasn’t human.
I dropped my hand, and the tabby leapt from my shoulder. She raced across the street, darting between legs and carriage wheels toward an establishment on the far corner. Through the failing light, I read the name upon the brick façade. The Salisbury. A public house from the number of patrons bustling into the place. One particularly well-dressed gentleman opened the door, and the cat slipped inside. At least the place came with a recommendation from my new friend.
The lure of a good drink persuaded me to follow rather than hail a carriage and return home. When the way cleared, I hurried across the street, wind whipping at my scarf. I ducked inside, removing my hat,
