Chapter 4

Snow allowed the baker a long moment to wrap his mind around the miracle before suggesting they conclude the transaction. With the girl awake, it was time to make his exit before more emotionally charged demands fill the air.

He turned towards the bedroom door and found it quietly closing. Apparently, it had been hanging open just an inch, for how long he couldn’t tell. Snow immediately knew Titus had silently watched or at least listened to the resurrection rather than standing quietly outside in the hall. While it was a clear violation of his command, Snow couldn’t help being a little sympathetic. If their roles were reversed, he would be just as curious about the magic.

“Let’s step out into the hallway,” Snow suggested to the baker. Once out the door, he found Titus standing with his back to the far wall like a good soldier. He eyed him briefly in the dark before turning to the baker, who awkwardly pulled out a second purse of coins from his pocket.

“Thank you,” the baker managed to say. His voice was distant though and still ripe with awe. His eyes kept turning back to the sight through the open doorway. His wife was holding their daughter and rocking her as if she were a small child again.

“My pleasure. We’ll see ourselves out,” Snow replied as he accepted the coins and gestured for Titus to make his way out. Snow watched Titus’s eyes also linger on the open doorway before they both made their way down to the bakery and out the front door. He didn’t address his new bodyguard until they were climbing back into the waiting carriage.

“So, how much did you see?” Snow asked with a dry tone.

Titus hesitated to reply. “Enough.”

“And?” Snow waited for more as he looked down and counted the second half of the payment by touch. He was sure Titus would make up some awkward excuse or simply refuse to be a part of this terrible business. In his mind, Snow was already telling himself that this whole bodyguard idea was a complete waste of his time.

“Why did you ask her if she wanted to speak with her parents?”

The question made all those thoughts fade. Snow turned to look into Titus’s half shadowy face as the carriage started to move. They sat across from each other but in the darkness of the evening, it was hard to tell Titus’s mood.

“Because the resurrected should have some choice. I bring them back at the request of their loved ones, but there have been times when a soul did not want to be returned. While I could force them, I believe that to be wrong. The resurrected are just as much my clients as those who hire me.”

“What happens when the dead don’t want to talk?” Titus asked and Snow heard the genuine curiosity in his voice this time.

Snow let out a breath. “I regretfully inform my hosts that their dearly departed don’t wish to be brought back and that I must let the soul go. Sometimes, they understand. Sometimes, they don’t. Regardless of their reaction, I only keep half the pay.”

A long silence enveloped them as the carriage road down the stone streets. The trees were casting foreboding shadows across the cab thanks to a bright, full moon. Snow went back to wondering if he would find Titus gone in the morning – after breakfast, of course.

Again, he began to chide himself for bothering with this idea in the first place and he wondered if the doubt would ever leave him.

By the time the carriage pulled up to the Fraeling, Snow had counted out Titus’s one-day wage from the baker’s purse. After paying the carriage, he turned to Titus and offered the coins with an outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” Titus asked without reaching to accept it.

“Tonight’s payment. In case you reconsider in the morning.” Snow continued to hold out his hand and even fanned the silver coins so the inn’s lamplight could catch on them. Titus hesitated for a moment longer before taking them.

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“Are you reconsidering?” he then asked as he pocketed them.

Snow’s brow lifted with the notion. “That all depends if you insist on poking your nose in again when I tell you to wait outside.”

He was sure that comment would garner a sour look, but Titus only grinned. “Com’on Snowflake,” he replied, “I can’t help being curious. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” Snow shot back coldly before turning towards the inn. “And it’s Snow.” He corrected before turning his back and heading inside.

It wasn’t until Snow got back to his room that he found himself mulling over that smile and those curious questions all over again. He found it odd that Titus seemed open to everything as if nothing that happened tonight was remotely frightening. A self-proclaimed would-be hero who had no trouble being a part of what most considered ‘dark magic’? Unfortunately, telepathy and clairvoyancy were not part of Snow’s gifts. He would just have to wait and see what the morning brings.

✵✵✵

The first thing the morning brought was bright sunlight that beamed in through Snow’s sheer cotton curtains at an early hour. It was a welcome sight after the recent gray clouds, and the magician hoped it meant fair travel for the next few days. Today he would be leaving for Folfern, a quiet farming valley just up the coastal road. It was a distant suburb to Erbin with access to a tiny port that helped to sail its goods up and down the coast. While its inn wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the Fraeling, it was a beautiful area and he looked forward to seeing it again clad in autumn colors.

Snow was dressed and in good spirits by the time his breakfast arrived at his room. A quick inquiry with the wait-staff informed him that Titus was still there and devouring a robust offering of sausage and eggs.

Well, Snow thought to himself, you knew he would stay for breakfast.

Snow then continued with his morning as he usually would. Payments were counted in full, expenses were paid to the inn, and a small portion was allotted for new clothes in case Titus was waiting for him in the lounge when he came downstairs.

To his surprise, Titus was there, but so was the baker.

The sight of them chatting close in intimate whispers put a tension in his body. He had hesitated in his stride upon seeing them, but Titus soon looked up and his brow lifted nervously at the sight of Snow at the bottom of the stairs. Titus then said something to the baker who turned back to see Snow before quickly turning for the door.

Snow didn’t bother following the man. He walked right up to Titus with a confused glare.

“What was that all about?” he demanded.

“He, uh, he found out what happened to his daughter and came to ask if we would… help him.” Titus rubbed the back of his neck as he said it. Snow was starting to get the feeling that it was a telltale sign that he wouldn’t like the response he’s about to receive.

“Help him?”

“He wants justice for her,” Titus said with a sympathetic look. Snow did not share such inclinations in the least.

“And you said?”

“I said it wasn’t something you do,” Titus replied. Snow could feel himself breathing again, but the anger wasn’t done.

“Next time, you do NOT speak for me. If a client comes looking for me, he can sit and wait for me to address him. Understood?” Snow’s reply was sharp and loud enough for the innkeeper to hear him. In his mind, this incident was as much a failure of the establishment, and he wanted them to know that. The baker should have been stopped or told to wait in a side room.

Titus nodded in awkward agreement. “I’m sorry. He was… he was pretty upset. I thought he could use someone to talk to.”

Snow felt the urge to launch into a lecture. All his clients were ‘upset’. They all suffered a loss and had a need desperate enough to pay him top price to bring the dead back to life. Of course, he carried a degree of sympathy for their situation, but he could not and would not involve himself in whatever drama befell them.

Instead, he took a breath and collected a more civil tone before saying, “I understand, but we cannot get involved like that. Period.”

“Does that mean there’s still a ‘we’?” Titus asked with single brow lifting curiously.

Snow sighed. “I suppose so.”

“Are you going to sit in the lounge again?” Titus gestured towards the now sunny room.

“No. We will be leaving Erbin after lunch today, but before we go, we’re going to sort out your… sorry state of affairs.” Snow gestured to Titus’s threadbare tunic and hole-ridden trousers.