Chapter 34 — Hot Potato

The stone-faced magister purveyed the three prisoners before him. To a man, they were all examples of the depravity that could exist within the human soul, and it was the magister’s solemn responsibility to see that just punishment fell upon each of them.

Though already shackled, no risks were being taken as each prisoner was accompanied and now held in place by their own guard. Approaching the first prisoner’s guard, the magister leaned his ear forward as the guard whispered into it. The description of the prisoner’s deeds nearly made him spit, and without hesitation the magister swiped his finger across his own neck in a swift and final motion.

The instructions clear, the guard dragged the condemned prisoner away as the magister regarded the next man in line. Once again he leaned forward to receive the whispered tale of atrocities. And once again the magister had to master himself lest he draw his weapon and end the villain then and there. Instead he reached up above his head and gripped an imaginary rope. Then he gave it a strong upward tug and cracked his neck to the side.

In response, the second guard gave a solemn nod and dragged the prisoner off to the gallows. Finally the magister approached the third prisoner and his guard, and the misdeeds he heard a moment later cracked his stony expression. The magister shook in barely contained rage, his hand like a vice around the pommel of his weapon. His chest heaved as spittle escaped past his clenched teeth and his eyes bulged with fury.

With a titanic effort the magister reined himself in, taking a deep shuddering breath. Shooting the prisoner a vicious glare, he wordlessly addressed the guard, using both his hands to pantomime that for this final prisoner’s crimes against humanity, he was to be given… a spanking.

Rína and the rest of the crowd burst out laughing as the clown in the magister costume continued the charade, switching from spanking to hitting with a fluffy pillow to making fun of the prisoner behind their back. And soon the characters of the first two prisoners and their guards made a reappearance, with the first prisoner now sporting a fashionable bowtie and the second in a state of ecstasy from the neck massage his guard was giving him.

And on and on the performance went. Eventually the clown troupe made their final bows and a few stagehands entered into the dispersing crowd carrying donation boxes—boxes that soon jingled with the audience’s appreciation.

Rína was tempted to contribute, but was still just as broke as she was earlier that morning. So instead she just admired the temporary stage that seemed to have unfolded from an ordinary traveling wagon.

And it was hardly the only one. Indeed, in just about every spot that had enough room someone had set up a temporary business or attraction, whether that spot was a grassy lawn in a public park or just the entrance to a particularly wide alley. It gave the festivities the feeling that they had simply been conjured from thin air and would disappear just as easily by tomorrow morning.

But despite the ephemeralness of it all, Rína couldn’t help but walk around with a big grin plastered on her face. Growing up in Leighton, Sharad was celebrated more like a village-wide picnic with a bit of good food and a few competitive games. But in Westreach—in Westreach it was a kaleidoscope of… well, everything.

The food was the most obvious and ubiquitous, but oddly kind of a let down. True, even where Rína now stood, she could see and smell more kinds of food than she had ever known existed… until she had met her aunt. That wasn’t really fair to the local cooks—they couldn’t exactly just grow high quality ingredients from all around the world—but they were certainly making good use of what they did have.

And beyond the food there were the people with clothing styles and accents Rína had never seen or heard; music that was utterly alien to her, and yet she still found herself nodding and swaying to the beats; and the artworks, gods, the artworks—it seemed like every ten meters there was another small-time artist selling their work.

There was a gorgeous painting of an island whose underside was hit by the golden orange of the setting sun, which in turn made it light up like the sun itself; there was a sculpture of a couple dancing that looked almost real despite the fact that it was only half a meter tall and made out of marble; and best of all, there was a slight tug coming from Rína’s satchel that—

Rína frowned as she looked to her hip where her satchel hung and, for just a moment, met the eyes of an eight or nine year old boy. A boy whose hand darted out of her satchel… holding one of her firebombs.

Rína’s eyes went wide as she lunged but the boy was already running.

“KID!” Rína yelled as she ran after him, barreling through the crowds that the boy slipped between.

Of all the things the kid could have blindly grabbed from her bag, of course it had to be one of her firebombs. She had been planning on replacing them with something non-lethal but—but that didn’t matter now. What did was that there was no way the kid knew what he had grabbed, and given how densely populated the city was, it was just a matter of time before a lot of people…

Rína pushed the thought out of her mind and into her legs as she fell into a desperate sprint. She couldn’t see the boy, but thankfully the crowd was just dense enough that Rína could follow the wake he was making. She mirrored the boy’s own mad dash, only briefly catching sight of him as he rounded one corner after another.

He was trying to lose her, but Rína wouldn’t allow it as she forced her legs to keep going. She shouted out several more times, but she was completely drowned out by the celebrations that she had no choice but to charge through.

The kid turned a hard left at the next intersection, then a right after that, then straight, right, second left, second on the right, straight through a small park, and then—

Then Rína lost track of all the twists and turns through the labyrinthine streets they had made. Her lungs were screaming at her, but she was closing in, and nearly close enough for her to use a touch of magic without risking hitting someone else.

The boy darted into an alley with Rína only seconds behind him. She rounded the corner and—

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Woah, little lady, where do you think you’re going?”

Rína barely stopped herself before she crashed into two men that were standing just inside the alley. They were walls of flesh, both of them, sharing a kind of casual, good natured air to them. But unfortunately the two of them were blockading the narrow alley in which they stood.

“Sorry, the—” Rína took a strained breath, “—kid, he’s—”

“Sorry, no kid here, you’ve got the wrong alley.” The first man interrupted with an almost jovial lilt to his voice.

“Wha?” Rína wheezed another breath as she tried to squeeze past him, “No, I saw him—”

“Nope,” He sidestepped to block her, “I definitely haven’t seen any kid, ain’t that right?” He said, looking to his friend.

“Yup, nobody’s come through here, that’s for sure.” His friend said cordially.

“See? So why don’t you just move along?” The fist man said, making a shooing motion with his hand.

“Look,” Rína tried again, “the kid swiped something really dange—”

“You know, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a kid.” The second man said, each word dripping with snark.

“Oh, wow,” the first man’s face lit up with surprise, “You know, come to think of it, neither can I.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Rína scowled as her lungs continued burning, “Look, I’m really sorry about this.”

Rína extended her aura, giving the two souls she felt in front of her a light touch. Then she sidestepped just in time to dodge the two men’s vomit as they collapsed to their knees.

“Don’t worry, it’ll pass in a minute…” Rína said as she forced her legs back into a run. Though just a second later she realized she didn’t need to. The alley was a dead end and completely empty save for a few barrels and discarded crates.

“…it’s gotta be a puzzle box, right?” Came a winded murmur from behind one of the crates.

Rína rounded it to find the boy, seemingly oblivious of the altercation at the alley’s mouth as instead, as all of his attention was focused on fiddling with the—

A lash of kinesis launched the partially armed firebomb out of the boy’s hands and into Rína’s. She might have put a bit too much power into the cantrip, with the bomb nearly ricocheting off her palms. But nevertheless Rína caught it and breathed a sigh of relief as she began unarming the incendiary.

“Do you have any idea how close you were to getting yourself…” She berated before seeing the boy’s face.

The curiosity he held towards his prize had, in the span of a heartbeat, turned to shock and then terror. Suddenly, the boy was frozen stiff; he didn’t move, he didn’t blink, he didn’t even breathe.

“Oh. Shit, look, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Rína lowered herself into a crouch to match the boy’s eye-level. For all his petty thieving, scaring the kid was the last thing Rína wanted. And more than anything, his response reminded her of small animals that had been caught in a trap and knew they were about to die.

“But you really did almost get yourself killed,” Rína continued, “Here, what’s your n—”

The boy shot up to his feet, shoving past Rína and knocking her onto her backside.

“The hells,” Rína cursed. Looking to the alley's mouth, she just barely caught sight of the boy in a dead sprint, disappearing back into the crowds a moment later.

Running after the kid wouldn't have accomplished anything, so Rína just got to her feet and brushed herself off. For the life of her she couldn't imagine why he was so scared. True, if some random person suddenly pulled out some magic, it'd be surprising, but…

Rína shook her head. She had no way of knowing, and she somehow doubted that he'd be any more talkative if she chased him down a second time—not that she had another sprint left in her.

Instead, she walked back to the alley’s mouth and looked over the two quickly recovering men.

“Again, sorry about that,” Rína winced, still remembering her first soul poke all too well, “but the kid really was about to get himself hurt—or worse.”

The first of the two men managed to push away the mental fog and focused his eyes on Rína.

And there it was again, that sudden fear. The man was staring at her as if she were some rabid animal, but unlike the boy, he didn’t go running off.

“Uh, yeah, I, uh, suppose he must’ve,” he began uncertainly, “And, uh, that was incredibly gracious of you ma’am, letting him go.”

Rína narrowed her eyes, “Is everything alright? I mean besides the nausea and all that.”

“Yes, ma’am, everything’s just fine,” the man nodded emphatically as his friend finally came to, “And, uh, our apologies for the misunderstanding. You know things can be.”

Rína had no idea what he was talking about, but it was obvious her just being there was putting the guy on edge. So without a better option, she just returned the nod lamely and walked around them, back onto the street.

“Ok, well, Happy Sharad, and sorry again,” Rína said.

“Uh, yeah, Happy Sharad.” The spokesman of the pair said uneasily.

Rína then just continued walking down the street, sparing a glance over her shoulder to see the two men quickly getting to their feet breaking into a half run in the opposite direction she was going.

Rína could feel a small pit in her stomach; something was wrong about that entire exchange, but at least for the moment she didn't have a good way of figuring out why she’d gotten that reaction. So for now, all she could do was place the firebomb back in her satchel and keep one of her hands pressing the bag’s flap closed at all times.

From there she tried to return her focus to the celebrations, but looking around, she didn’t have the slightest idea where she was. During the chase she had lost track of where they had gone, and the street she now found herself on was a bit strange. At first glance, it was lined with storefronts, each of which with a large display window beside the shop’s door. However, all the displays looked more like stages and were completely barren, save for a few with a single shop worker pacing atop them. Strangest of all, the empty displays were still somehow attracting the attention of people walking by.

“You wouldn’t happen to be spending the holiday all alone, now would you?” Came a sultry voice from the nearest shop.

Rína turned to see that from the shop’s display stage a truly gorgeous man was addressing her. He had soft dark eyes and wavy black hair, both framed by a playful vulpine smile. But what seemed to be most on display were the chiseled muscles that decorated his bare chest and arms.

Rína frowned, more than anything surprised that a shopkeeper, or even one of their employees would be walking around shirtless. In fact, giving the other store fronts a second look, Rína noticed that none of the shop workers were wearing anything that could be considered modest…

“Oooooooooh,” Rína widened her eyes, “Uh, about that…”