9 – Stories We Tell
Back at the tavern across from their inn, Ward sat in a dim corner, sipping a cold beer while he studied the spell he’d taken from Elliot. The words weren’t uncomfortable for him to look at, and he figured he had a good chance of casting the spell without any risks. He’d know for sure after he memorized it. The spell’s description was a note written in neat, printed letters. For the third or fourth time, Ward scanned through it:
A Step Through Shadows-
A clever combination of the words, a spell of convenience or urgency, a way to move without the constraints of your physical form. Move no more than your vessel can withstand—a step too far will take a toll in blood. Too much light or its absence will result in failure.
As he fastened the spell into his grimoire’s binding, he glanced at Grace. “I think this spell was a little too much for Elliot; it looked like he coughed up some blood when he said the words.”
“He was certainly desperate to get your book. Was it just greed? Why wouldn’t he simply conduct the trade?”
“Yeah. Greed, I suspect. Maybe frustration. He seemed pretty miserable.” Grace occupied the other seat at the table, and with his back to most of the other patrons, Ward didn’t feel strange speaking to her in a low voice. “You think Haley will be much longer?”
“I’ve no idea.” She lazily traced her fingertip through the condensation on the battered tabletop. “Who knows how long it takes to grasp the fundamentals of a new Gopah form?”
“Well,” Ward tossed back the last of his beer, “I’m heading up to the room. I want to try this new spell out.” Grace didn’t object, and soon, Ward was sitting on the wooden planks of their little hotel room, growling and cussing as he worked his way through the awkward meditative poses of the new spell. Like his first two spells, this one’s forms were all performed while on the ground, and though uncomfortable at first, they began to click into place for him after just a few tries.
The whole process probably took a tenth of the time it took him to prepare his first spell, but he supposed much of that was due to his improved ability to find his center and focus on the rhythm of his heart. More than that, he was familiar with the whole process; he ensured he grasped each form before trying to put them together and memorized their timing before getting started. All in all, it took him less than an hour before the new spell was there, in his mind, ready to be released.
“How does it look?” Grace asked when he stood and brushed his pants off.
“The words are dark and slippery, trying to slide away from my attention as soon as I focus on them. Yeah, they’re weird, but they don’t look dangerous.”
“Try it!” Grace jumped up and ran over to the gas lamp affixed to the wall but couldn’t interact with it. Instead, she hopped on her bare toes until Ward groaned and complied, twisting the knob until the room was thrown into deep shadow. “Wait!” Grace cried, “You don’t have any healing tonics.”
“Shit. Well, as I said, it doesn’t look dangerous.” Ward didn’t wait for another objection. He took a deep breath and said, “Dhrak Vel!” The words rolled off his silver tongue like butter, carrying a very different note than when Elliot had choked them out. As they echoed and swirled, gathering shadows, Ward’s vision changed. Instead of deep shadows interspersed with flickering orange-yellow light cast by the lamp, everything turned gray, and the shadows melted away, revealing even the deepest corners of the room.
“Ward! You disappeared!” Grace squealed, clapping her hands together. With no one else to practice on, Ward took a step, and it felt weird—like he was pushing through thick air. He held his hand up and saw strange wisps of smoky shadow drifting away from his pale, gray flesh, and as he stared, he realized he could faintly see through it. He was translucent!
Ward took another step, moving to the side of Grace, and the step felt a little more difficult than the first. Two more steps, the fourth being almost painful as he strained, put him behind her, and then he reached out to tap her shoulder. His finger went through her. “I think—I don’t think I’m solid,” he said, and Grace jumped, whirling to look behind her with wide eyes.
“You moved? Did you teleport? I still can’t see you!”
“No, I walked behind you, but I couldn’t touch you. How’d Elliot…” Ward frowned, realization dawning on him. Elliot had ended the spell so he could pull his knife and threaten Ward. How though? “I feel like if I try to move anymore, it’s going to injure me, but how do I end the damn spell?”
“I don’t know! Can you still see it in your head?”
Ward turned his attention into that weird space where he could see the words, and, sure enough, they still floated there, though far fainter than before he’d cast the spell. “Yeah.”
“Um, shoot, I don’t know, Ward. Can’t you feel the magic somehow?” Before he could answer, Ward’s vision flickered and returned to normal. As relief flooded him, Grace grinned and ran forward to punch him in the chest. “You did it!”
“Nah, the spell just wore off. Maybe it just lasted a little longer for me than Elliot.”
“Maybe, but it would be good to know how to cancel a spell at the right moment.”
Ward nodded. She made an excellent point. “Maybe there’s a spell for that. Like, uh, dispel magic or something.”
“Maybe. You need a mentor. I wonder if Maggie would know about that.”
“I dunno, but I’m not going back to Tarnish anytime soon.” He sat back down on the floor. “Let me prepare my other spells.”
He spent another twenty minutes memorizing his Reveal Secrets spell, but when he tried to memorize Strike True, he found it impossible to concentrate on the words and forms. He kept slipping out of meditation, and, in a frustrated fit, he punched the wooden floorboards, growling. Grace had been lying on his bed, idly humming something while she studied the ceiling, but she looked up at his little outburst. “What?”
“I can’t focus. I can’t get this spell to stick!”
“Which spell?”
“Strike True.”
“What about the other? The secrets one?”
Ward sighed and flopped back, folding an arm behind his head. “I memorized that one. I’ve got it and the Shadow Step one ready.”
“Maybe that’s your limit. Maybe you can’t prepare every spell you ever learn all at once.”
“Huh.” Ward rubbed his eyes, bleary from too much concentration, and sat back up. “I think you’re right. Shadow Step and Reveal Secrets are both more difficult spells. I bet it’s all my brain can take right now. I mean, until I improve somehow.”
“Maybe your vessel capacity? Or maybe it’s something that doesn’t show up on your hemograph. Shoot! Weren’t you going to shop for a better one?”
“I mean, I did. I spent a shitload on the one I’ve got. I don’t want to dip into Haley’s money any more than I have to, so another upgrade’s gonna have to wait. I already owe her a thousand for Blazewitch.”
Grace sat up on the bed and pointed to the door. “Someone’s coming.”
The knob rattled, and Ward leaped up, grabbing his new alchemical firearm off the foot of his bed. His alarm was for naught. When the door opened wide, Haley stepped in, reaching up to pull her silky blue cowl back. “Hello! New weapon?”
Ward smiled and set Blazewitch back down. “Yeah. I owe you a thousand glories.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but her smile didn’t falter. “Is that so?”
Grace padded over the wooden floor to her. “You look happy, Haley!”
“I’ve been doing Gopah all afternoon, so, yes, I’m feeling good!”
“Well? How’d it go?” Ward pressed.
Haley’s smile broadened, and she put her hands on her hips, standing a little taller. “I have a basic understanding of the form—enough to continue practicing on my own.”
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“That’s great!” Ward stepped forward, meaning to clap her on the shoulder, but she stretched out her arms for a hug, and he pulled her close, smiling at her warmth; she was like a little furnace. “Damn, you’ve built up some heat.”
She nodded into his chest, inhaling deeply. “I had a wonderful day.” When she stepped back and looked up at him, she asked, “What about you? Was it eventful?”
Grace laughed. “Wait until we tell you about Elliot.”
That evening, over dinner at the tavern, Ward and Grace told Haley all about their encounter with Elliot and the spell Ward “acquired” from him. Ward also handed over the glories from the sale of her parents’ mine shares, and though she protested, Haley took the pouch and tucked it safely into her leather vest, but not before pulling out two hundred glories and pushing them toward Ward. She winked when he opened his mouth to object and said, “Add it to what you owe me.”
“You’re feeling so much better!” Grace laughed.
“Yes! I’m sure my detached languor will return in the morning, but I’m determined to advance through the Gopah ranks, which means I’ll need to practice often. Now that I know how much it helps, I’m much heartened about my situation.”
“That’s great, Haley.” Ward showed his approval of her attitude by tucking into his creamy pork and greens—a dish he never would have suspected would taste so good.
The next day, true to her word, Haley woke before Ward and silently began to go through her forms. Despite her efforts not to make noise, her movements and breathing were different enough from the sounds of sleeping that they woke him anyway. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to discourage her, and just laid in bed for a while, waiting for her to finish. When she padded into the bathroom, Ward got up and got dressed.
When Haley emerged from the bathroom, also dressed for the day, he greeted her with, “Good morning! How are you feeling?”
“Not as good as yesterday. Please don’t ask me that every day!” When Ward’s smile faltered. She added, “I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“Irritating when a guy constantly reminds you about a problem you’d rather forget?” Ward forced his smile back to his lips and stood up. “I get it, don’t worry. Ready to kick this popsicle stand?” The night before, in the tavern, Ward had gotten wind of a cargo vessel leaving for Westview, and the man, who claimed to be the cargo master’s apprentice, swore they’d have no trouble finding a berth if they arrived before noon—the ship would leave at the evening high tide.
She frowned at him, perhaps puzzled by his colloquialism, but her response indicated she got the gist: “I’m ready to leave, personally, but I don’t know what to do about the horses. If there’s a chance they won’t be allowed on the living ship, I’d hate to put them through a sea voyage for nothing.”
“Yeah.” Ward reached for his hat, setting it atop his head. “I was thinking about that yesterday. I wonder if one of the farms outside the city—”
“That would be fine for Nutmeg, but Wind Queen was bred to run. She’s a racer!”
“Well, wouldn’t she want to be with Nutmeg?”
Haley sighed, slinging her cloak over her shoulders. “Probably. I’d sell them for a discount if the buyer would promise to keep them together. Wind Queen’s worth a pretty glory.”
“Let’s go talk to the stable guys. They might point us in the right direction.”
“Ward, we only have the morning! What if we miss the ship?”
“Hey,” Ward chuckled, shaking his head, “relax, would you? If we miss this ship, we’ll get the next one.”
He slung his backpack on, watched Haley pick hers up, and then led the way downstairs and out to the stables next door. Haley had been the one checking on the horses, and she knew the stable hands better than Ward did, so he stood back and let her do the talking. She nodded her cowled head at the boy on duty, taking and fetching mounts, but gestured toward the closed door in the back of the tack room. “Is Roy in?”
“Yes’m. I’ll fetch him.” The boy ran off, tapping at the door, and a few seconds later, a stocky fellow with a grizzled beard that seemed to blend into his hair—all the same length of about an inch—stepped out, adjusting the straps of his stained suspenders.
Haley waved. “Hi, Roy.”
The man brightened visibly at the sound of her voice and hurriedly approached. “Miss Haley, ain’t it nice to see you this morning.” He looked Ward up and down, not an ounce of recognition in his eyes. “Sir.”
Ward nodded, but Haley was done with niceties. “Roy, we’re bound to Westview, and I’m not sure I want to put the horses through all that. Can you recommend someone who might want to buy them? I’m loathe to leave them behind, but I want what’s best for them. You understand that, right? I want someone who loves horses to ride Wind Queen.”
“Oh, dear me, Miss Haley! Wind Queen’s the finest horse I’ve had stabled here in a good long while. I’d offer to buy her myself if I could afford such a fine mount. You’re right, though; that’s a horse that needs to run. She’s been giving Tommy a run for his money when he walks her ‘round the lot. There’s a couple big horse families in Port Granite, folks who travel to races and whatnot. I’d steer you away from Dame Traven ‘cause I’ve seen her boys working them horses, and they ain’t gentle. Mr. Lansden would be who I’d sell to.”
“He’s kind to his horses?”
“Oh, aye! They live better’n I do!”
Haley smiled, nodding. “Could you tell me how to find his stables?”
“My pleasure!”
Ward tuned out the rest of the conversation, figuring Haley had things in hand. After a few minutes, Roy and his assistant brought the horses out, and Ward saw the grizzled stablemaster’s eyes light up when Haley gave him his payment. He thanked her profusely, and then they rode the horses out of the city and toward the country estates they’d passed on their way into town. Haley set a leisurely pace, and Ward had the feeling she was taking her time, savoring what was probably going to be her last ride with Wind Queen.
“Maybe we can just pay them to board her. I mean, maybe you’ll want to come back here someday and—”
“No, it’s okay, Ward. I love this horse, but I rode her less and less over the last couple of years. Gopah and my preparations for the challenges took priority for me. She deserves better. She’s only got a few of her prime running years left. Maybe she’ll win a race. Maybe Mr. Lansden will find her a proper stud, and she’ll foal.”
Ward saw she wasn’t upset when she glanced at him, so he nodded. “Hopefully, Nutmeg will be happy too.”
“It’s beautiful country around here. He’ll be happy as long as he gets to roam a bit. He’s a proper gentleman’s horse, so maybe they’ll take him into town on occasion.”
“You think there’s a chance he won’t want to buy ‘em?”
“If he’s a horseman, he’d be a fool not to want Wind Queen. Nutmeg’s a bonus.” Haley sounded confident, and it turned out she was right. The stablemaster at the Lansden farm tried to buy Wind Queen before Haley had even dismounted or made her pitch. They never met Mr. Lansden, but the farm was idyllic, the stables were clean and well-staffed, and Haley didn’t bargain hard.
Overall, the stablemaster acted like Haley was doing him a favor by selling Wind Queen for a “paltry” nine thousand glories. He bought Nutmeg for twelve hundred and a promise to let him exercise with Wind Queen a few times a week. Haley wrapped up the negotiations by saying, “I’ve done your stables a favor today, Mr. Gilroy, so I expect you to return the favor by treating these two horses like family.” Her voice was grave, and her eyes looked hard and severe in the depths of her hood.
Still, the man looked at Ward, glancing up at his luminescent eyes beneath the brim of his hat as he slowly nodded. “Aye, ma’am. I can assure you that we treat all our horses better than most folks treat each other. They’ll be well cared for.”
As he and Haley shook hands, Ward cleared his throat and jerked his thumb toward the distant city wall. “Any chance for a lift back to town?”
Mr. Gilroy was all too happy to have one of his hands drive them back to town in a wagon. It had passenger seats, but it bumped and jostled Ward so badly that he hopped out before they even got to the gates and walked alongside it. Haley didn’t look any more comfortable, but she waited until they passed into the city to climb out and toss a silver, five-glory coin to the stable hand.
Ward looked at her face as she watched the man’s wagon trundle away. She didn’t seem overly sad, but he couldn’t imagine she was happy to see Wind Queen go; the horse was one of her last links to her parents. He put an arm over her shoulders and steered her down Main Street toward the center of town. He figured the street probably went all the way down to the docks. “You good?”
She shrugged under his arm. “I think so.”
“They’re going to be happy out there. You saw all those pastures and exercise rings.”
“I know, but I’m going to miss her. Even when I stopped riding her regularly, I always knew she was there.” An involuntary shudder ran through her, and she reached up to rub at her eyes. Ward knew she was thinking about her parents, but he didn’t want to say something that might make it worse.
“Hey, you know what the great thing is about leaving friends behind?”
She sniffed and looked up at him. “What?”
“Well, you get to write the rest of their story in your head. I’m pretty sure, come spring, Wind Queen’s gonna win a few races. Then, if I’m not wrong, I bet she’s going to have a baby—What do you call ‘em? Foals?”
Haley sniffed and forced a small smile. “That’s right. They don’t ‘have babies,’ they foal.”
“All right, well, she’s going to foal a little boy horse.” Ward was being purposefully obtuse, hoping to get a better smile out of her. It worked. She barked a genuine laugh and elbowed Ward in the ribs.
“You’re so strange! The word is ‘colt,’ Ward!”
“Okay, well, she’s going to foal a colt, and that colt is going to grow up to be a mighty stallion named Wind King!” He squeezed her shoulders again, pulling her into his side, then let her go as she inhaled deeply and sighed a long, shaky, cleansing breath.
“I like that story. Promise me you’ll tell it to me again, but next time, let’s have a few more details.”
Suddenly, Grace was walking in front of them, backward, of course, so that she could look at them. “I liked it too, but I think you’re right. Next time, we need details about the races she wins, and I’m very interested to know about the lucky stallion that gets to be Wind King’s dad!”
“Sire, Grace!” Haley laughed.
Grace winked at Haley. “I know, but Ward doesn’t. I’m trying to keep things simple for the poor old guy.”
Ward groaned. “If I buy a steamer trunk for the passage, do you think I could put you inside it, Grace? Is there any way to do that? Like, can I put a circle of salt around you to keep you in place?”
“Ward!” Haley punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t treat Grace like that!”
“Don’t worry, Haley, that won’t work on me. I’m bound to Ward. Honestly, if I didn’t have a host, salt would disrupt my ethereal form. It works on lots of entities lacking a vessel.”
“Seriously?” Ward had just been joking. He couldn’t even remember where he’d heard about salt circles—probably some movie or campy TV show.
“Seriously. Also, bodies of water with any sort of current. I couldn’t make this journey if I weren’t bound to you.”
As they spoke, they crossed through the Main Square, and the street gained a decidedly downward slope. After they rounded a slight bend, Ward paused and pointed. “Look at that.”
Ahead of them stretched the endless-seeming dark blue waters of the Cobalt Sea. Much closer, past hundreds of brick and wood buildings, were the warehouses and piers of the port that gave Port Granite its name. Ships of all sizes and types crowded the docks, with the largest, steam-driven vessels far out from the others on mile-long boardwalk piers.
Even if his eyes hadn’t improved with his “refinement,” Ward believed he could have seen the ship they were looking for. It was an enormous black and red-painted steamer with the words “Crab’s Bounty” painted on the gunwales in giant white lettering. “Well,” he said, starting forward again, “there’s our ride.”