Returning to Tonbridge was significantly less difficult than Florian had feared. They were hardly attacked overnight, and despite avoiding the hot roads and making quite the ruckus in the shrubbery alongside it, nothing tested them throughout the day. The couple of Hellwolves that did come for them were handily dealt with by Joe, who was much more skilled with magic than Florian had guessed, even after he had been saved by the boy.
In fact, entering the fortified trade outpost proved to be the most difficult process. Most of Tonbridge’s people remembered him for his failure to protect the caravan he had been charged with defending. They were nearly about to deny him entry when Jacquelyn appeared, escorting them past some very displeased gun-toting men and straight to Miss Faye’s office.
“I need sanctuary for Joe, and then I’ll leave for Dover with your people, Miss Faye,” Florian said, leaning heavily down on the desk in front of him, daring Faye to try something. Surprisingly, she agreed readily.
“That’s perfectly fine, Mister Cale. I wouldn’t want to send a boy in harm’s way; I’m not heartless.” She snapped her fingers, summoning someone to escort Joe from the office. Joe looked back at him with confusion and worry. Smiling, Florian ruffled the boy’s hair, hoping that it would reassure the kid. It did.
When they were left alone in the room, Faye leaned back and sighed. “I’m saddened to hear the news about Leeds.”
“Will it be a problem in searching for the people I’m looking for? My family and George’s?”
Faye shrugged. “I can’t be sure, Mister Cale. It could be that your old master will prove to be happy with gathering those around him that want to be there. It will only become a problem if he seeks to interrupt our trade. In that case… yes, it would be a problem.”
Florian scowled. Theo was not a magnanimous person, nor had he ever been, by Florian’s estimation. “How could he interrupt your trade? I assumed that everyone you traded with lived in places like these?”
The elderly woman in front of him covered her mouth with a hand and chortled. “Did you think that we scavenged for all of our goods ourselves? Heavens, no. While having walls is practically the only way to live in a community these days, an odd person here or there can often go unnoticed by those wretched creatures. If they up and leave for Theodosius’ magical utopia, we not only lose valuable trade goods, Mister Cale, but our information network.”
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Impossible though it may have seemed, Florian managed to scowl even more. He was surprised that anyone could live alone out there, but he supposed that most couldn’t make it to safety out in the open. It made sense that there’d be people still living in a city that once used to house millions.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Get my people to Dover and help us set up there. It will give us more bargaining power with our people. In the meantime, do you have any other information that he may have given you? Any little bit helps,” she said the last bit expectantly, her hands crossed on the table as if she were playing poker.
Florian nodded. “I’ll also pass along what he told us – his disciples – the day I left. He claimed to be a prince from another world, sent to rescue Earth.”
Now this shattered the calm look that Faye kept on her face like armor. “Has it changed how people look at him?“ she asked. Then, she held her hand up. “Don’t answer that. Of course it has.”
“He’s starting a religion,” she muttered to herself, just barely loud enough for Florian to overhear it. Then her calm returned, and she waved away the statement. “While I must admit, that is a surprise, and doubly so if it were true, I doubt that there is much merit to the claim.”
“But the magic?”
“There are many explanations for just about anything these days. Even if Theodosius’ story is false, how would you explain these monsters, these wolves and giants? I would be hard-pressed to offer anything but magic.”
Florian sat down and thought on it. The leader of the Tonbridge traders had a point, there. This world was hardly magicless. That was the only way that any of this waking hell made sense. He decided to turn the topic away from Leeds. “When do we leave for Dover?”
Now Faye smiled, pulling open a drawer at her desk. From it she pulled a slip of paper with a handwritten note on it. “I’m giving this to you in good faith, Mister Cale.”
Taking the slip of paper, Florian found that it was a coordinate, something that meant absolutely nothing to him. Even when he consulted one of the maps that seemed to have a permanent home atop the desk – Faye didn’t seem like she cared – he only found the coordinate to indicate a stretch of woods. “What is this?”
“That, young man, is your first hint as to where your family may be. We’ve found a survivor from Dover hiding away in a small village we frequently scavenge. He indicated that your Commander Taylor left Dover in pursuit of the crash site of a UN fighter.” Her eyes glinted with mirth, apparently finding amusement in Florian’s confusion.
“I know about the fighter; I was sent to go look for it. What does that have to do with my family?”
“The radios, they went silent, yes?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“We have some theories for that – magic, we presume – but the fact is that information from faraway lands is very, very hard to come by. That fighter might have had some data onboard, physical or digital. Any news the crash site may contain is news that would help us locate your family.”
The weight of the paper in his hands suddenly felt very different. It felt heavier. “When can we go?”
Miss Faye stood up from her chair, turning around to look out at the setting sun that sunk below the horizon as they spoke. “Rest tonight, Mister Cale. You leave tomorrow.”