Nadir walked. His footsteps fell quietly, the soles of his boots gentle on the soft cobbled roads. The thin layer of snow helped to quiet him, but he still didn’t like that it left a visible trail along his walking path. It unnerved him; he constantly wanted to check over his shoulder, to jump away from every small alleyway he passed, to bolt back to the motel, but he managed to stop himself. Being paranoid would do him no good.
He could have called August, asked for a ride, could’ve discussed the book out in the cold- but no. He wanted to walk. The crisp late Autumn air was doing wonders for his exhausted state, and letting the cold seep in ebbed away the exhaustion that had begun insidiously creeping in the moment all the disappointment of finding a useless, ink-stained book washed over him.
He let his thoughts fall away. He’d learned recently that sometimes, the best thing to do was to not tire yourself. He scanned the buildings around him, instead, taking in every detail: one brick building had a vine climbing up its storefront. Another had a windchime, sounding noisily in the gentle wind. Some buildings had wooden shingles, with their paint chipped away, and gaps between the businesses led into the dark alleyways. The streetlights were out due to a power outage, but the moon was more than bright enough to make up for it on the main road. He looked up. There was nearly a full moon tonight, and Nadir decided it was a waning gibbous—he had moved to memorize the phases, for August’s sake—before he trailed his focus elsewhere. He picked out a few constellations, but Nadir knew he missed some, and the complete lack of clouds explained how bright it was.
He smiled. Lawry would probably be able to point every constellation in the sky without ever looking up.
He returned his focus to the ground. The link between him and August itched, desperate to reunite again. He couldn’t be far, he knew that without looking, and he found himself walking a little slower. The silence was a comforting blanket for him; if they stayed, in a few hours, the birds would rise, chirping away. There’d be the gentle hum of people going about their day. It was a far cry from the constant noise of Boston, where he and August had been only a little over twenty-seven hours ago. He wouldn’t miss it.
"Take nothing for granted,” Nadir whispered. It was soft, and his words disappeared in the wind before they could travel. He looked at the ink-stained book still clutched in his hand: he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, but he didn’t think it was a particularly worrisome issue. He brought the book up to his chest and started scanning through the pages, double-checking for anything he might have missed, but each page was stained worse than the first.
Even though nothing had miraculously changed with it, he was smiling. “I should thank August when I get back,” he continued whispering to himself, “She drove me down here without sleeping. I could never,” he laughed quietly, “and Lawry, too. She never needed to help us in the first place- at least August and I knew each other before… all this.” He mumbled at the book, like by explaining this to it, the pages might magically be clean. Nothing changed. That didn’t stop him.
“I know that she chose to, I mean. She wouldn’t have helped me in the first place if she didn’t want to, and- well, she believed me about everything too. And then…” His gentle smile was quickly turned to a deep frown. It didn’t look good on him: it disrupted his otherwise round, gentle features, marred his sepia skin, and was the antithesis to the excitable, bouncy black curls on his head—streaked with an unnatural ash grey. August used to tell him all that whenever he was sad; but lately, he thought, she hadn’t been smiling much herself.
This line of thought was bad for him. He shook his head like the action itself might clear up his thoughts, before laughing at his idiotic behavior. Now was not the time to feel sorry for himself, and he knew it was just the exhaustion getting to him.
He felt better than when he’d started the walk, but the exhaustion was still only growing. He’d be able to sleep soon, as long as there weren’t any major issues. He and August hadn’t slept for real in a while, and they likely wouldn’t still: Nadir had decided that the best plan of action was to get a move on. They had already stayed here for far too long.
He focused on walking, now. Let himself feel the thumping of his feet on the uneven road, and he stared at the bright, flickering motel lights a street ahead. The motel ran off its generator and had a self-sufficient grid. Nadir had no idea why that would be the case for a motel in a backwater town like this, but it certainly wasn’t wrong, so he pushed the pointless question out of his mind.
He made his way up the street, letting the humming neon light wash over him, bathing his brown trenchcoat in a mix of blue and purple. The sign was large—likely too large to be safe, he thought—and mounted near the top of the two-story motel. In bright blue letters, it read SUNSET MOTEL. Nadir didn’t think it was very unique, especially not in comparison to the motels the three of them had bunkered in the last few days.
He moved through the large, empty parking lot. There were only two vehicles: a motorcycle, which was August’s, and a pick-up truck, which belonged to Lawry. He knew August had named her bike—it was her pride and joy—but he could never remember the name between August’s rants about parts, the make, the model, and modifications. It was simply too much, especially for a field he knew nothing about.
He passed the motorcycle while heading to the rickety metal stairs leading to the second-story of rooms. He shifted the book into his left hand and ran his right alongside the motorcycle’s chassis. August used to rant all the time about how she would never let it get scratched, but Nadir could see the markings littering its paint. There’d been no chance to work on it recently.
Nadir forced the distractions away. He was just trying to delay the inevitable, to delay going up to the room and explaining that all this work was for nothing. He sighed, climbed the rickety steps up to their floor, and gently padded his way toward the door. The sooner he explained, the sooner he or August—perhaps both of them—would be allowed sleep.
He raised his fist to the wooden door and recited Lawry’s special code in his head. One tap. Then two. Then one. Then three. Each knock felt louder than the last and Nadir winced, not enjoying the lengthy procedure. He could feel August on the other side, and he knew that she could, too. There was no real point for this ritual, but the last time they skipped it, Lawry chewed them out for minutes.
The door swung open with a loud woosh. He felt his face blasted with the warm air, and he knew the woman in front of him—August—felt the cold wind in return. Her ash-streaked blonde hair was stained with grease. She had a look of frustration on her face, but he could tell it wasn’t directed at him; he just felt the exhaustion in their connection.
He looked at August. August looked at him.
“Come in,” she gave in first, growling. Nadir smiled at the familiar sight, prompting her to roll her eyes before stepping to the side, allowing him entrance.
Nadir closed the door as he stepped in.
----------------------------------------
August sat up. Lawry had told her to take a nap, but between the bed being far too plush for August’s tastes, the buzzing of the bright yellow lights, the humming of Lawry sitting at the table, and the gentle twanging of her and Nadir’s connection—anxious to be reunited—that plan was never going to work. August knew that, but Lawry wouldn’t have it until she at least tried to sleep.
Lawry glanced at her. August noticed she had changed at some point, donning blue jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt. It was by far the most casual August had seen her, and she was surprised to find herself thinking it looked good on Lawry. The loose shirt complimented her ponytail and the black contrasted her beige skin and brown hair; August was impressed. She usually considered Lawry far too stuck-up for anything resembling normal clothes.
“Are you just going to stare at me, August?” Lawry asked in that short, clipped tone she always had. It was so matter-of-fact, so superior. August despised it; she decided long ago that she hated know-it-alls.
“I couldn’t sleep. I told you I wouldn’t be able to.” August answered, shriveling her nose at the woman. Lawry only hummed in response, going back to the book she was reading, laid across the small table. It was covered in sheet of paper after sheet of paper. Some were from other books, so old the pages had fallen out long ago; some were torn out from notebooks, likely the product of Lawry’s research; and some still were covered in drawings, symbols, artistic interpretations of creatures. August had begun to recognize some of them thanks to Lawry’s help- even if August was loathe to admit it.
“Where the hells is he, Lawry?” August slipped off the bed and grabbed for her boots. One of them had gotten knocked under the bed at some point, so she had to kneel to fish it out from the dark confines. The boot came out littered with dust. Grumbling, August tried to fit it on, but she struggled to slip the cuffs of her cargo pants into the tall boots. By the time she was done tying them, her hands were covered in the dry mud that stained the otherwise black leather.
Lawry watched with mild amusement. “August, again- truly, you have made me repeat this many a time now, he is presumably at the library, paging through a tome so incomprehensibly written I could not conceive his headache.” She paused, slowly closed her book, and began to gather up all the scattered papers. She didn’t think the mess was very presentable. “Or, well, perhaps Nadir is simply walking back with the script in hand. He is more likely to do that.” She concluded, nodding like she had just said the most sagely of wisdom.
“Yes, more likely to do that, my name’s Lawry, I’m so knowledgeable about people I barely know,” August grumbled in a childish tone, making for the bathroom. Whatever response she wanted, Lawry gave none, choosing instead to continue calmly organizing her stacks upon stacks of paper.
“You know we have computers?” August called from the bathroom. She got a hum of acknowledgment in response, and it became clear Lawry did not feel like discussing anything with August, so she chose to ignore Lawry in turn. She turned the sink on and splashed her face with the icy water, rubbing at her eyes until they felt relatively clean. She wiped her face down on her tank top and looked in the mirror to consider how she looked.
It wasn’t a good sight. Her fair skin made the deep purple lines under her eyes extraordinarily visible, and August swore it made everything about her seem dimmer. Her hair was an utter disaster, too: she cut it not long after they went on the run, but it’d need another trim sooner or later. Lawry said it was bad form to have long hair if you’re engaging in fights. August’s hair was streaked with a mixture of ash-grey, sweat, and grease. Grease. August swore, realizing she hadn’t showered since they started running—at least a month, since her last job.
No wonder Lawry seemed to dislike her. She looked disgusting. August decided that dwelling on it would do no good, and instead bent down to try and wash as much grime as possible from her hair with the sink water. It did little, and after a few minutes, August gave up.
She wished the motel had a private shower—she’d take a cold one if she had to—but no, this place was not nearly nice enough for that treatment. She wandered back into the main room and moved toward the minifridge in the corner, hoping to eat, but was only met with a disappointing emptiness.
She clenched her jaw. August had forgotten they left all their food behind after having to flee again. She flinched at the memory; their last encounter with the mimic had gone horribly. Her connection with Nadir twanged at the memory like somebody pulled on a taught piece of string; she knew he couldn’t be far, because it had grown stronger in just a few minutes. August looked to Lawry, who was orderly stuffing pages into her book bag.
“He really didn’t text you?” August chose to break the silence, chewing at her scabbed lips in worry. She instinctively moved her hand to her necklace, thumbing at it repeatedly. August wasn’t trying to fight—despite the frustration August felt—so she tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She knew it wasn’t Lawry’s fault, but it was still difficult for her to manage sometimes.
“No, August, he did not text me. Which is why I had promptly concluded he was on his way here.” She answered the question in an instant, clearly expecting it. August resisted digging her nails into her hand, instead focusing on staying calm.
“I’m just saying, Lawry, I have a right to be worried. We’ve already been here too long!” August continued, and threw her arms up in frustration—freeing them from her necklace—before continuing quickly, interrupting Lawry, “If anybody has a right to be worried, it’s me.” She knew that was harsh. And the death stare Lawry was giving August made it clear that she’d hit a nerve.
“I am not saying you shouldn’t be worried,” Lawry spat back, “I am but simply implying that worrying will do nobody any good. I would allow myself to be worried if it were to do any good,” venom leaked through her tone despite how she was attempting to reel it in, “but, I understand you cannot help but be worried thanks to your own mistakes.” Lawry hissed, a look of pure rage covering her face. Her nose was shriveled, her lip quivered, and she was even slightly red on the nose. August shut up.
Silence reigned, and its rule let the two calm down. Lawry looked a little guilty, which August had found supremely surprising, given she could seldom tell what Lawry was thinking. After a minute or two, August couldn’t stand the awkward silence. “You don’t need to apologize, I know you didn’t mean that,” Lawry gave August a weak smile in acknowledgment, before opening her mouth to speak and closing it again. Another minute passed in silence before Lawry finally decided what to say.
“We are both thoroughly exhausted, and fighting will do us no good. I am deeply sorry for my part in worsening our respective states.” Lawry apologized anyway, ignoring August’s hand-waive. She moved to finish packing her bookbag, slipping the last few books into its confines. Nadir used to joke about it being bigger on the inside, but that only prompted Lawry to go on a rant about her organization system.
“And I’m sorry, too,” August finally answered, her voice quiet and subdued. The exhaustion leaking out of her was evident. “You think he’s okay, though?” She asked, moving to the window near Lawry and pushing the curtain aside. Lawry hummed in thought.
“I do. In fact, I am sure of it,” Lawry answered happily, meeting August’s surprised glance with a smile. August only looked away. She had issues dealing with Lawry; she was too good at flipping from emotion to emotion. August envied her, in a way; she could never have that level of control over her emotions.
“I just… I can’t do this without him, Lawry. Yes, literally, but also…” August bit her tongue, trying to think of how to continue, “I did this for him, and I know that nothing’s a given anymore, and I know that the only reason we made it this far is because of what I did to him, and,” She cut herself off again the moment she realized she was rambling. Lawry looked patient, and serene, simply waiting for her to continue. “All I’m trying to say is, I know that we fight, but thank you. I don’t think we would have made it this far without you, and… Thank you, Lawry.” August concluded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She’d rarely been vulnerable with the woman.
“You need not thank me,” Lawry answered gently as if August was a newborn child—which, in some ways, was true—before standing up to match August’s stance at the window. Lawry was taller than her and Nadir, but extraordinarily thin. She’d rarely eaten across the two weeks of travel. “You are not being safe enough with,” Lawry continued, moving a hand up to August’s wet hair and grabbing at the ashy grey locks. She had to choke bile. Touching them almost felt painful, “The connection. Until you are a full-fledged witch, and Nadir can be your anchor, you will not need to thank me. Remember that, August.” She gently let go of August’s hair and slid back into her metal folding chair; she felt sickly.
“I know, Lawry. I never wanted this, not for him.” August answered just as gently. Lawry half-heartedly hummed in response, trying to fight the nausea. Another few minutes passed like that, with August staring out the window and Lawry looking at nothing in particular.
After another minute or so, August sighed and sat down at the tiny table with Lawry. She leaned on her elbows. “He’ll be here soon. I can feel it growing stronger.” She informed Lawry, who once again only hummed. August watched the old, amber-colored lamps flicker, occasionally suffusing the room in a gentle blue darkness. The clock on the wall ticked away, ever a reminder of the time they were wasting. But, every second, August felt the tug grow stronger.
Whenever Nadir left, the flood of energy August felt came back stronger and stronger. It would shoot through her veins like morphine, spreading a cold, gentle buzz of energy from limb to limb.
August shivered in response. She was stifling her reaction, despite how amazing it felt. It was better than anything else she’d tried; like a comfortable blanket wrapped around her shoulders, it filled her head with notions that she could do anything. It made her want to run, to dance, to leap from building to building. But she also knew that’s what would get her killed.
It was one of the first things Lawry told her; it was like an addiction, the pact, and August was quickly forced to learn how to manage. It became easier when the reminder of what could happen sat before her, a stark reminder of what using that power would cost. Lawry, while she looked kept on the outside, hadn’t had time to keep up with her routines; her brown hair dye was fading, and the tips started to reveal a pure grey, identical to Nadir and August’s.
August didn’t like the thought, even if it was a good reminder. She turned her focus away from the magic buzzing inside her and to Nadir. She could feel his heart, beating like a drum. She could picture him in her mind, slowly ascending to the second story of rooms.
She swore she felt it when he stood in front of the door and rapped his fist on the wood. Each knock hit her like a freight train, and August wanted to slam the door open and let him in. Lawry glanced at August, who was shaking with excitement, before slowly pulling a revolver from her waistband. August didn’t notice.
Lawry watched the door. Listened to the knocks. She made sure they were right, before nodding and allowing August to slam the door open. She slipped the revolver away before either Nadir or August could notice its presence. It was no secret that she was careful, but people rarely liked having guns aimed their way.
Lawry observed them. August and Nadir simply looked at each other. Lawry assumed they were letting the energy regulate, and the reminder brought phantom pains. It was an itchy tug from somewhere around Lawry’s lungs, forcing her to take deeper and deeper breaths in an attempt to scratch it. The exchange couldn’t have lasted more than a moment, but it still made Lawry feel like an unwelcome observer; a voyeur spying on people she should never have known.
“Come in,” August growled, though Lawry could tell it was more out of concern than annoyance. Lawry knew what an annoyed August sounded like. When Nadir stepped inside, shutting the door gently, he had a warm smile on his face. It felt brighter than the lights and brought a small smile to Lawry’s face. Her pains started fading. Nadir was a calming presence for both August and her.
Nadir looked about the same, Lawry considered. He still wore his clothes, and his grey trenchcoat looked unblemished. Lawry tried to let her nerves slide away. They were ever-present, even though he was not the mimic. She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to loosen them, and then she exhaled deeply, calming her nerves in a final effort, before putting back on the mask and looking up at the pair standing together.
“What have you two gotten yourselves into…” She muttered, mostly to herself, before meeting Nadir’s eye. She spoke first. “Well, Nadir, you look positively glowing. I assume it was a success, then?” Lawry hummed, giving him a gentle, encouraging smile. She was ever the mother, but she also knew Nadir didn’t need the treatment. He was the only thing truly stopping her and August from tearing into each other. But his smile dimmed, instead turning into a deep frown. He put the book on the small table, silently, his movements slow and careful, like it might explode if he were too rough.
“First off,” Nadir began calmly, “you two were fighting again.” He looked between them. It wasn’t a question, but a fact. He could always tell: August and Lawry both looked a little guilty. August had a look of slight shame, like she was a puppy being scolded, and Lawry only glanced away in admittance. Despite how obvious it was, they both went to deny it at the same time.
“We weren’t fighting,” August answered with a whine, and Lawry in annoyance. Their heads snapped to each other in surprise, and they were only met with each other's piercing stares. Nadir chuckled.
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“And my point stands,” he put a finger up in front of August, a habit he had learned from Lawry, “and no, August, it does not matter who started it first. Just stop doing it, you two. It helps none of us, and it helps me the least. You two don’t know what it’s like to be between your bickering.” He stated it firmly, enough to tell them that was the end of it. August and Lawry both nodded, too exhausted to argue more.
Nadir continued speaking. “Onto more important matters, so we can get a move on,” Lawry quirked an eyebrow at the implication—they hadn’t planned to move if the book told them how to kill the mimic. “And get some sleep. The book. It’s useless. Absolutely,” he had tapped on the book's cover for emphasis, “useless.” He had to spit the word out. It disgusted him. The word echoed in the small motel room, and both August and Lawry were utterly silent. The kind of silence that is deafening, so loud breaking it feels like a mistake. But it was the calm before the storm. The next instant, the room erupted in noise.
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“What do you mean it’s useless?” August was practically shouting, still riding the high of the magic, and she stumbled toward the wall. Nadir caught her, but only barely; his small frame made catching the woman difficult. She pulled herself away from his grip and chose to lean on the wall instead, breathing deeply. “You’re really fuckin’ telling me that we came all the way out here, for a goddamned useless book?” She asked, jamming a finger in the direction of the book with so much force that Nadir thought it might promptly burst into flame. It’d fit the look of utter rage marring August’s face. Neither Lawry nor Nadir answered, not wanting to enrage her further, so they just stood there.
“I’m going for a smoke,” August said, pushing past Nadir to the door she had just welcomed him through. Nadir nodded, though he was unsure if August saw it; he wasn’t too concerned. She wouldn’t go far, not so soon after reuniting. He knew she was frustrated with the situation, not anyone in the room.
Lawry watched the exchange, no hint of amusement or frustration on their face, and simply looked at the book. Then, she looked at Nadir. “May I examine it?” she ran a hand over its amber-yellow cover. In the matching light, Nadir thought it glowed, but realized it was a trick of the light.
“Knock yourself out, Lawry. We need to head out soon, though.” He answered, moving to the bed and flopping dramatically into its plush comfort. He just wanted to sink in and drown in the sheets. To forget about everything. He wished they could save the discussion for the morning, but he knew they’d need to get ready soon. Nadir pushed away the drowsiness once again ebbing in, choosing instead to sit up and lean on the headboard.
The minutes ticked by, and the sound of the clock was giving him a headache. There wasn’t anything to distract himself with, either; he could hear a cough or two from August, who was outside. Nadir didn’t particularly feel like checking on her, he hated the smell of cigarettes. Lawry said nothing, but Nadir watched it flip page after page, each one no better than the last. She turned each page in time with the clock ticks, and Nadir found it a little amusing. The minifridge made an odd clunking sound, and the overwhelming hum of electricity suffusing the building seemed to get worse. It mixed with all the noise into a great cacophony of buzzing. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes in an attempt to block the flickering light.
“Yes, well, this is useless,” Lawry stated, having managed to flip through the entire book in record speed. She snapped the book shut with an odd finality, leaning back in the rickety folding chair she claimed. She removed her round glasses, wiping at her eyes—Nadir knew she was tired, too.
“I did warn you, Law…” Nadir mumbled, only half awake. He shook the exhaustion away. “Lawry. I did say so. Did you discover anything?” He asked, glancing at the odd book. He concluded the moment he looked at it that it wasn’t a normal book. He didn’t need magic to know that.
“Well, it’s an enchantment, I suppose. Quite promptly, Nadir, because of these ink blotches,” she continued, and Nadir nodded. He had concluded that earlier. “But with a copy of such ancient writing… Well, it could be a curse placed on the original manuscript, to forbid copies, which I consider the most likely.” She continued, raising a finger as she listed off the idea. That meant she had a few, and Nadir motioned for her to continue.
“It may be natural, and we are both wrong. I imagine you would not consider it normal, either. But, I consider this extraordinarily unlikely because, well, nobody has this much ink on hand. This could not be somebody accidentally spilling an inkwell.” Lawry continued, almost laughing at the thought. Nadir smiled in turn, happy to see that she seemed at least a little amused by the situation.
“The third and final option, which I consider to be somewhat viable, is that, well, a spellcaster of some manner or another,” Lawry looked to the door, where August stood outside. Lawry couldn’t be sure, of course; August had stopped coughing a while ago, but Nadir could still feel the thread connecting them, freely spilling energy back and forth. “Chose to delay us by casting upon the book a spell.” Lawry finished, putting down her hand dramatically. Nadir watched her for a second, considering what she said.
“Lawry, you don’t mean to imply that you think August had a hand in this, do you? I would have been able to tell long before-” Nadir began explaining, but Lawry hushed him and waived one of her hands in a silencing motion. Nadir bit his tongue and waited for her explanation.
“No, Nadir, I do not think our amateur witch cast a curse upon this manuscript that is deeply important to both you and her. That would be foolish,” Lawry shook her head, “and while she is certainly stupid, she is not foolish. I frankly don’t think she would have the power to do this,” Lawry stated, opening the book again. “Even with my knowledge of enchantments. Not yet. Now, I could either conduct a rite to tell what kind of magics were cast on this, or August could do it with a little instruction.” She gently closed the book just after opening it, like it might be dangerous.
Nadir looked at the woman. Without her glasses, she looked less imposing. She had wrinkles along her cheeks and heavy crow’s feet. For being only a few years older than Nadir, she looked ancient. But there was no malice in her face, nor hatred or disgust, just an awful and ever-present exhaustion. Nadir sighed. He knew what she was asking, even if she didn’t say it.
“I’ll go fetch her. Help her calm down, or… whatever she needs.” Nadir agreed, and Lawry nodded. He hadn’t taken off any layers, so he simply grabbed August’s leather jacket and pulled his coat tighter before stepping back into the lightly snow-peppered cold. There was still the faint smell of cigarette smoke in the air, and Nadir shriveled his nose in turn at the reminder. She had dropped the habit a while back, but after everything kicked off it started up again.
August was leaning against the frosty metal railing. She swayed back and forth, clearly worried. The sun was just peeking over the buildings in the distance, despite how early it was. Nadir moved to lean with her, first holding out the brown leather jacket for her to take. August grunted before slipping it on, shivering at the touch of the warm leather. “Can’t have you getting sick, August. Not yet. Soon, you’ll be able to get sick as often as you want, and I’ll make you all the chicken soup you could want, okay?” Nadir asked unprompted, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and using the other to prop himself up on the railing.
August didn’t answer, not immediately. She played with her necklace instead, staring at nothing. Nadir joined her in the looking, but he chose to be more productive than her empty stare. He kept an eye out for any vehicles they might recognize. There were none.
“What are we going to do, Nadir?” August finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. She turned to look at him, her lip trembling. Nadir felt a pang in his heart at the sight: he thought she was just angry, but this was something far worse. He rarely saw her like this. “I mean, without the book, how are we going to…” She seemed to be struggling to talk, and her voice was quieter than the sound of her shuffling to face him. “How are we going to get rid of it? We haven’t had time to sleep, to research, we haven’t even had time to eat. This book was our one shot at figuring things out. I mean, even Lawry has never dealt with one of these things.” She continued, looking at Nadir with her piercing green eyes.
It made him a little uncomfortable, and he was reminded of what Lawry had asked when they first met. He wiped away a bit of grime on August’s face instead of responding. He didn’t know what to say.
“Until we get rid of this, we’re fucked.” August gently pulled his hand away. Nadir only nodded and contemplated what to do next. August became used to his silence long ago. He was always thinking. August wished she could do the same.
“I know, August. I know,” he answered after many long moments. She was chewing at her lips, which were already covered in scabs. The admittance, in turn, made his exhaustion worse. “I don’t think we’re going to have any issues convincing Lawry to stick with us a little longer. I don’t think she’s even considered leaving, even though we’ve already stolen her away for an extra week.” He answered calmly. While Lawry could be patronizing with her explanations, Nadir was anything but. He was gentle, composed, a comforting force to be leaned on.
“She said it’s an enchantment. Either by another spellcaster or more likely, a curse caused by copying the original work. She’d need you to help with figuring that out, though, and then circumventing it,” he explained, “and I want to get us on the road. We’ve already been here too long, and it’s not like you can stay on your feet much longer anymore. Do you think you could..?” He ran a hand up and down her shoulder, covered by the leather jacket. It was as much a soothing gesture for her as it was for him.
August bit her lip. “Nadir, I… Yeah. With her help, it should be doable, yeah. But to do this quick, I’d need to…” August trailed off, not daring to proffer the question. Her stomach twisted at the thought of leeching from him further—their connection was already strained, and more stress might kill him. “I’d need some supplies. For the ritual, to circumvent it. I’m not sure we could get the stuff here anyway, Lawry will know what we need. A larger city would probably have anything we need, but after Boston, I think we should stick to smaller towns.” Nadir nodded in agreement. He didn’t feel like asking Lawry for a list. Not now. They could deal with it in the morning, or whenever they woke up.
“Should we head back inside? You’re shivering.” Nadir asked, gently moving her hand from her necklace—August hadn’t noticed she was touching it. He posed it like a question, but August knew him well enough to understand it as a demand. She nodded, and he began turning away to go inside, but she wasn’t ready.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back, gently brushing a lock of curly grey hair from his face before pulling him in for a tight hug. He responded in kind, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her shoulder. He could feel the tickling of her wet hair on his nose, and August released some of the tension to match his gentleness.
They couldn’t have stood there for more than a moment, but it felt like an eternity to them. It was safe and comfortable, and the most real thing they had felt in a week.
When August pulled away, her eyes were teary. “Whatever happens, Nadir, just know that I don’t regret any of this. I don’t regret that you came to me for help, or that I gave it to you. Nothing, I regret nothing except the fact that you got mixed up in all of this in the first place. I mean,” she laughed solemnly, “me, a witch? I would never have guessed. It feels right, though, and… I have you to thank for that. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” She asked, and Nadir nodded. It wasn’t good enough for her. “Please just say that you hear me.” She begged, a slight whimper slipping into her voice.
“I hear you. I’m not going anywhere, either. You’re the best thing I could’ve asked for during this shit.” His voice was sad, deeply laced with sorrow. Whether August regretted it or not, he wished he had never gone to her for help, never involved her. He gestured toward the room with his head.
“Yeah, yeah, inside. Where it’s warm,” she shivered, “I need to talk with Lawry anyway.” He hummed in response—a habit he had begun doing occasionally, thanks to Lawry—before opening the door and allowing them both to retreat into the warm motel room.
Lawry began the moment they entered, not bothering to look up from the amber journal she was examining again. “August, sit down, let’s go over this quickly so we can leave. I well, don’t know what Nadir told you, so I might be repeating him,” she continued, nodding when August sat in the chair across from her. She was paying attention to this: August absorbed magical knowledge like a sponge. “It is a spell, that is a surety. I examined it twice over, and I detected magical influence both times—which also means it is a strong one since I haven’t had ability regarding that field in years. It is much better suited to a witch, like you.”
August piped up at that. “Lawry, you could have just asked. I can feel magic radiating off that thing like truck exhaust.” She grabbed for the book, but Lawry tutted and pulled it away from her, not done with her explanation. August glared at her, but Lawry only raised an eyebrow in reaction.
“I do not think it was a spellcaster who did this, either. It doesn’t make logical sense. I am the only one who knows about you two. This means, well, it is a curse employed by the original manuscript to ward off mimicry. It is somewhat common with these older texts, thanks to superstition—whether it is valid or not, I cannot say. But, this means it could be worked around, despite how strong the curse appears to be. I doubt we could dispel it, but there are ways to manage it.” Lawry finished explaining, sliding the book toward August. Nadir watched with curiosity, despite his lack of magical ability. Understanding his ally's strength was part of being a good teammate.
August glanced up at Nadir, almost asking for permission. The last time they dealt with a cursed object, its effects had simply passed through August’s connection and into Nadir, leaving her unmarred but him retching on the floor. It was part of the deal, as her anchor. He nodded, and August feverishly grabbed at the book and began flipping through it.
“Which disciplines does the spell fall under?” August asked.
“You should tell me, first. If you miss anything—or turn out wrong—I will correct you,” Lawry answered, and August nodded, satisfied with the deal. She understood that she needed to practice, but a witch’s way of examining magic was also far more thorough than the naked eye of the magically attuned. August doubted she’d be wrong.
A gentle hum filled the room, and Nadir winced. It was different from the buzzing electricity. This felt more like a pull all around him. The connection between him and August grew taught, and her eyes began to glow a gentle green, forming rings upon rings of intersecting bands in her iris. It was easy to tell when a witch used magic; they weren’t subtle.
Nadir had begun to recognize the shapes in August’s eyes, and he recited what he knew from attempting to memorize it all: there are ten intersecting lines and loops, each representing a different discipline of magic, and a different ‘elder.’ They were called many things, he’d learned, but that was the most common one in the modern age—they were forces so powerful they dictated the rules of magic.
August began to speak, her voice intermingled with Nadir’s, even though he wasn’t talking. It always creeped him out, having his identity subsumed like that whenever she began casting. “Ninth. Fourth. Fifth. Eighth.” After a few more moments, the light began to fade, and she was seemingly content with her findings.
“In order of potency, August?” Lawry asked, and August confirmed. “That means we are dealing with something quite unique. And it’s not an illusion?” Lawry asked again, and again, August confirmed. “Then we are dealing with something that was able to manifest the effect with no outside input. In a way, the curse itself could be considered a living, magical creature. Or virus. This means it can adapt, but it can also be killed. I am not sure yet how, although.” Lawry answered, picking up the book and stuffing it in her book bag, which still sat under the table.
“Are you two done, then?” Nadir asked, and they both confirmed. It surprised him at how quick it was, and for all the mystical bright lights, that took little to no energy from him. “Okay. Then, August, I want you to go throw your bike into the bed of Lawry’s truck. Take a bag or two with you,” he gestured at their backpacks, which sat near the foot of the bed, “And then I want you to climb into the backseat and get some sleep.” He knew August was about to protest, and so he didn’t pause, “And I don’t want to hear any complaints. You need to sleep more than any of us.” He grabbed his bag and held it out to her. She huffed in annoyance but did as asked after a second.
“And, Lawry,” he began, waiting for the woman to look at him, “I assume since you haven’t protested about that plan, you’re joining us?” He asked. There was a long silence, and Lawry simply looked at him. He looked at her stormy eyes, flecked with gold. When he first asked her about the odd color, Lawry simply explained that all spellblades shared the same color, and he had taken it as a joke. He knew now that she was entirely serious.
“Of course. Why would I leave now?” She finally answered, breaking the quiet tension. “I thought it clear that I’m not simply leaving after we kill the mimic. I, frankly, have a vested interest in your well-being, and I am only going home if you two are joining me.” Her lips curved downward, despite the growing smile on Nadir’s face. “You will be sleeping. I will be driving. Bring out our bags; I will check us out, Nadir.” And now he was glowing in response. He thought about how wonderful sleeping would be.
“Okay, Lawry. Thank you,” he said, the words suffused with so much grace that Lawry looked a little shocked. The scowl finally disappeared, in place of her atypical grins. “I’ll get the rest of our bags. Oh, do you have the bookbag, though?” He asked, grabbing the two backpacks and the duffel of supplies, which was tucked away behind the bed.
“I will take the book bag,” She handed him her keys, and then more quietly, “It has my wallet, anyway.” Nadir laughed quietly, awkwardly shuffling out the door with the bags. He moved toward the rickety stairs and slowly carried the bags down, careful not to collapse the rusty steps. He thought that’d be just his luck.
August was waiting by the truck, half asleep standing. She’d managed to get the bike into the bed, and laid sideways it wasn’t nearly as wide as the bed was tall. Nadir heaved the duffel into the bed and closed the back, pulling the black tarp over the contents. August grunted in recognition, suddenly awake enough to realize he was there.
“Is Lawry checking us out, then?” She asked, motioning for him to unlock the truck. He clicked the button on Lawry’s keys, and the vehicle made a loud beeping sound. August nodded in thanks and clambered into the passenger seat to begin moving the backpacks into the back seat, behind the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, she is. You can get comfy, she shouldn’t be too long. Even if she is, it’ll just give time for the truck to heat up.” August nodded, and he handed the next backpack for her to fit in place, and then the next. After that, August climbed over the seats to lay in the backseat—which was more of a bench—and maybe get some rest. It had become the closest thing to a makeshift bed that they could make; the seat was littered with moth-bitten blankets, a relatively new sleeping bag, and it had a yellowed pillow on one end.
August pulled off her leather jacket and wrapped it around the passenger seat headrest. She then clambered into the sleeping bag and pulled one of the blankets over her, letting the rest cushion the bench seat. Nadir hummed, fumbling the keys into the ignition and getting the truck started.
He messed with the heating and vents, making sure they were blowing vaguely toward August’s direction. He’d turn the heating down once the truck warmed up, but it still needed to defrost first. He got comfy in the passenger seat, fished his phone out from his pocket, and hit the power button for the first time in a few days. He itched to check it, but it needed to charge first, so he plugged it in.
He hit the radio after that. He would love to listen to his music right now, but with nothing downloaded, he couldn’t. His subscription ran out a week ago. His card was declined, which was expected. He had ditched it in a random trash can.
“You’re listening to,” a record scratch sound effect played, “96.5 blood radio!” The man on the radio rambled for a bit before something wholly generic began playing. Nadir hummed along with it, watching as Lawry gave him a small wave from the stairs and began heading toward the office they checked in at.
Nadir doubted the kid they checked in with was still there, but it shouldn’t matter. Lawry just needed to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind and return the keys. By the time he blinked, she was already making her way to the truck.
She moved to the driver’s seat, gently opened it, and hoisted herself up into the seat. She was more familiar with the size than they were—it was her truck—so it took much less effort. She closed the door just as gently, glancing at the backseat, where August lay. She looked peaceful, bundled up in the warm sleeping bag. She left one arm out of the blankets, and Nadir knew she got too warm otherwise.
“Is she asleep?” Lawry whispered, and Nadir had to consider for a second. August rarely passed out that quickly, but she hadn’t slept in over twenty-seven hours. She could be faking it, or simply trying to sleep, so Nadir shrugged.
“Yeah, I think so,” he whispered back, reclining his seat just enough to be comfortable, but not enough for it to disturb August. Lawry slid the book bag in near his feet before beginning to adjust her mirrors. She always fussed with them, and would often rant about road safety.
“What did you put on?” She asked in amusement, still whispering but with a small smile on her face. The radio DJ had begun talking again, ranting about country bumpkins and horses. It might have been the worst DJ Nadir had ever heard.
“Just some random FM station. I didn’t want to sit in silence.” He shrugged, grabbing at his phone to check for any important notifications, but Lawry slapped it out of his hand. He grumbled in mild annoyance, but he also understood why. Lawry was always motherly about the screens. She didn’t like tech.
“No screens for you, Nadir. The blue light is bad for you, especially because you need to sleep above all else. Join your friend, go to bed. I’ll get us on the road,” she looked at him, suddenly realizing they had no real destination, “West?” Lawry shrugged. Nadir agreed.
He let the sound of the truck’s tires on the pavement soothe him, along with the awful music. He used to hate the feeling of cars, but now the ever-present sensation of moving was a comfort. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pulled his trenchcoat tighter around him.
He was asleep by the time they were out of the parking lot.
Lawry felt happy, oddly. Things hadn’t worked out with the book, yes, but at least they were still relatively safe. August and Nadir were getting some much-needed sleep, too. She turned the radio off after a bit—she never listened to it anyway—and drove in silence. The sun continued to rise, and light filled the sky. She would drive until the next stop, refuel, and likely continue driving until she couldn’t. Or perhaps until a roadside diner. The other two needed to eat.
Lawry glanced at them, and neither stirred. They continued sleeping calmly. Lawry thought about how similar they were to her, but they were also something new. A second chance for her, maybe. She tried not to think of it that way. Lawry knew it was bad to get your hopes up, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.