Fused in Fire
Page 27Confident much? I had a feeling the other side of the river would cut that right out.
“That mage pair no longer exists,” Darius said, still not advancing. “One of them, the older of the brothers, died somewhere in Europe. He was on the council of the Mages’ Guild, but it’s rumored he didn’t like the direction the guild was going. He tried to amass support to reject certain changes. Soon after, he went on a business trip with a few of his followers. He never came back.”
“And his followers pled ignorance?”
“Only one follower lived. You can guess which position he now occupies.”
“Yikes. I barely know those crooked bastards, and I hate them.” I braced my hands on my hips, because I needed to make a move soon. I was stalling. I knew it, Darius must’ve known it, and the deaf-mute in the boat probably knew it. The faker.
“The younger brother, Emery, went off the grid after that. He went rogue. He pops up now and again, but when he disappears and doesn’t want to be found, he can’t be.”
I thought back, because this sounded familiar. “Is he a handsome guy?” Darius’s look darkened. I threw up my hands. “Not that I’m interested. I just remember Callie mentioning a powerful mage that was off-grid.”
“Why did she mention it to you?” Jealousy tinged his words, and I couldn’t help a laugh. Learning to feel again came with some unpleasant side effects, it would seem.
It occurred to me that the troubles in the magical world were much more strained than I’d originally thought. Each magical faction was at odds with another. I didn’t like that Darius was making plans to get involved, even if I knew he’d attempt to be stealthy. There was no way I wanted anything to do with any of that. I needed to keep my head down and get out of here without getting discovered, now more than ever.
After that, I could work on talking Darius into a nice, quiet life without demons and intensely powerful mages. I didn’t want to set off a magical war like a powder keg.
As always, that was easier said than done where it concerned me. I was a bad idea playing out at the best of times.
“So I could snap a picture if I ever saw him and pin it up on my wall. No biggie,” I said. “Anyway, let’s do this. We can’t stand here all day.”
Darius’s stare held mine for a moment before he finally tore his gaze away and directed it at the boat. “At some point,” he said, “one of these boats must be gone when someone arrives to use it.”
I walked forward. “Yeah, I don’t know how that works.” I hadn’t thought to look when I was messing with things. “We can ask Mr. Patient, there. Assuming he can hear at all.”
I stopped beside the boat, which did not bob or move. A rope attached to the side of the boat had been looped around a metal tie down on the dock, though maybe that, too, was just for show.
That was English, Darius thought.
I didn’t know how to speak the demonic language on cue. Or even if there was more than one.
“Can I have a ride?” I stuck my thumb out like an idiot before ripping it back down.
The creature in the boat continued to stare straight ahead.
I stepped into the boat. It rocked like I’d expect from a normal boat, and didn’t at all expect from the magical boat. My weight tilted it, sending me sprawling. I banged my knee on a wooden seat and fell against the side, getting splashed for my efforts.
I wiped away the water—which felt normal, if dirty—and sat up quickly. “My bad. I wasn’t expecting that.”
The creature continued staring straight ahead, right past me.
Darius stepped in a moment later, annoyingly graceful even when the boat pitched. He smoothly sat down.
The creature came to life, if that was what you would call it. Its head turned slowly until its eyeholes pointed at me.
“Who are you?” the creature asked in a flat, sandpaper voice.
“I am the egg man,” I said seriously.
Darius slightly shook his head. He probably also rolled his eyes.
“Egg man,” the creature said. Its head slowly turned to Darius. The suit wasn’t hiding him from the boat captain. “Who are you?”
Darius stared at him for a beat. “I am the walrus.”
“Walrus,” the creature said, ignoring my soft singing. It switched its sightless gaze to staring between us. “Where do you go?”
Before I could say “Across the river,” Darius said, “East shores, regio Festum.”
“I really need to look at that map,” I said softly, then snapped my mouth shut, in case mentioning a map was as much of a tell as pointing a huge arrow at my head with spy written across it. It wasn’t like this was a theme park and people went around handing out maps.
The creature reached out with a bony hand—and I mean bony, as in “not covered with skin”—and unstrung the rope. The boat calmly drifted away from the pier, but I felt a subtle rocking and bumping that didn’t match the smooth expanse around us. But I’d seen what these waters really looked like; the magic was strong to keep us this level.
“Do you ever throw anyone overboard?” I asked the creature.
It didn’t answer.
We drifted away from the dock quickly, reminding me of the fast-moving current I had seen. No other docks showed themselves.
“Because you lot don’t seem impressed with strangers,” I continued, analyzing it. The eyeholes weren’t gory. They reminded me of a doll’s eye socket after the marble had fallen out. Creepy, sure, but not necessarily icky. “If someone died in that fog, you’d get up and toss them over, wouldn’t you?”
It continued to stare.
The nose was tiny, a little button that wouldn’t be much good for smelling. The lips, full but leathery, curved halfway across its face, the mouth too big. When it threw on a smile, if it ever did, the effect would no doubt be startling.
The dock fell out of sight and the fog evaporated into the air. Barren beaches seemed to stretch on forever on either side under the limitless gray sky. The boat hung in visibly motionless water, yet I continued to feel the minuscule bumping and rocking.
My body said, You are floating. My eyes said, You are sitting still. My social perception said, Mr. Undertaker is making things awkward.
A drop of liquid splatted against the creature’s forehead. As though we had run into it. As though we were going at high speed.
It didn’t react to the projectile water splat. Like it had never happened.
Just like before, I received no answer.
Darius reached over and took my hand. Like a hound dog salivating over a bone in its master’s hand, I watched his thumb trace across mine. Then slide back. Over. Back.
It wasn’t the touch that was a comfort, so much as seeing his finger move while feeling the movement. That made sense.
I had to keep myself from looking around at everything that didn’t make sense.
“The boatmen are insane.” I jumped when a drop of water hit the back of my head. “They have to be. I’m well on my way, and I haven’t been here long.”
You will get used to this, mon ange. Have patience. New vampires go through a similar mental culling.
Mental culling?
I didn’t ask for specifics. It wouldn’t help. I needed to get out of this damn boat. It was bending my brain in terrible ways.
Time ticked by. Too slowly. I watched Darius’s thumb and focused on the movement, until I noticed a change. It was subtle at first, a slight movement in my peripheral vision. Shortly thereafter, I noticed we were drifting closer to the opposite bank.
Hell, maybe the bank was drifting toward us. Anything was possible in this horror show.
I looked over my shoulder, relieved to see a pier like the one we’d left. The boat stopped at the end, waiting patiently for Mr. Undertaker to come to life and refasten the rope.
The creature’s head turned to me. “Safe travels, Egg Man.” Then to Darius, “Safe travels, Walrus.”