Chapter: Danger in the Dark: 19 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Over a meal, Ambrose answers DG's questions about magic in the O.Z.
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During the hours of slow trundling it took to arrive at Central City, Jeb slept in the back of the cart, Toto curled next to him in his makeshift pack. No one stopped the small wooden vehicle with its apparently human cargo nor the oddly dressed woman who drove it. Thus, the leader of the resistance remained undisturbed in his drug-induced slumber.
Once they pulled up to the city gates, the eighteen annual old man awoke; he'd noticed the absence of the lumbering movement of their borrowed cart.
"Mariah?" Awkwardly, Jeb pumped his arms in the air to lever himself up without using his acid-burned hands. His thoughts jumbled in fuzzy confusion as he stared up at the immense city, faded green on every surface. He blinked in dazed astonishment; Jeb had never visited Central City in his life, even when his father worked there as first a police officer then the Mystic Man's Tin Man.
Naturally, with the anti-magical collar she wore, Mariah didn't answer Jeb's question. He wondered if she was mute without it, too.
"We can go around," he suggested, unsure why she'd stopped but hesitant to enter the metropolis. He focused carefully and noted that a pair of Long Coats, heavily armed, stood checking identification at the entrance . . . just like they'd done practically his entire life . . . they must have retaken the city when they'd taken the tower. Jeb didn't know about Mariah, but he certainly didn't have a passbook to get into Central City.
Leaning closer, careful not to bang his hands, he whispered, "we'll have to ditch the cart and go around on horseback."
She turned her head to study him with serious liquid amber eyes.
After several long minutes, she turned her ring around on her finger to hide the gemstone, making it appear to be a simple silver band. She flicked the reins and the pair of horses trod sedately toward the guards. They were next in line. Jeb climbed carefully onto the driver's seat to Mariah's left, balancing carefully to avoid using his hands, his mind sluggishly looking for a way to convince her to avoid the city . . . or a way to get them past the guards.
Then it was their turn, the automobile before them pulling through, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
One Long Coat waved to them in a desultory way. "Come on. Passbooks out . . ."
Rather than obeying the man, Mariah suddenly leaned over, slipping her left hand to Jeb's cheek, tilted her head, and sealed her lips over Jeb's.
Steel-blue eyes widening in total shock, the young Tin Man began to pull away, but Mariah let go of the reins and cupped his other cheek, keeping him still. She held his face as she explored his mouth with her own. Unsure why his companion had chosen to kiss him, especially as they were being challenged at Central City's gates, he decided to let her have her way and began kissing her back.
The young resistance leader wasn't used to close emotional or physical encounters with women; he'd been too busy fighting since puberty to let such a distraction happen. He definitely couldn't say the building sensations were unpleasant, just confusing and very new. Too soon she pulled away and gave him a smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners as her liquid-amber eyes shone in apparent delight. Startled, Jeb realized he'd not seen Mariah smile before.
"Uh . . ." he cleared his throat and tried again, "Mari . . ."
"Honeymoon, officer?" an amused male voice interrupted Jeb and he turned confused grey-blue eyes to the Long Coat. The other man looked as amused as he sounded, apparently not registering Mariah's simple braid in the increasing darkness, but he didn't wait for an answer. Instead he chuckled. "Been a long time since this was the place to go for romantic getaways," he winked and waved them towards the city. "Enjoy yourselves. You won't have enough time."
Mariah kissed Jeb softly again and turned back to the horses. She continued smiling in that dreamy fashion as she flicked the reins, not giving the Long Coat a chance to change his mind about checking identification. Once inside, the woman's smile fell away and she guided their decidedly provincial rig among sleek automobiles and fancy carriages, avoiding foot traffic as they went.
Jeb studied her for a long moment before her actions made sense to his drug-fogged brain. He shook his head with a slightly rueful quirk of his lips, flushing lightly at his own reaction to her.
"Distraction . . . clever . . ."
She nodded once, glancing at him, then looked forward once more.
Jeb nodded in return and began looking around them, trying to organize his thoughts and slow his racing pulse: definitely a distraction he didn't need.
The large buildings, early evening crowds, and rapidly moving vehicles almost overwhelmed the rural-bred man. Taking a steadying breath, Jeb gingerly balanced his elbows on his knees, his hands beginning to throb as the pain medicine started to wear off. Fortunately Mariah knew how to keep the horses to a steady pace in the confusing traffic. He didn't distract her concentration with unnecessary commentary.
They had driven for some times, past brilliantly lit buildings, before Jeb finally said "Are you comfortable driving to . . . our destination in the dark or should we look for somewhere to spend the night?"
Mariah glanced at him, her whiskey-colored eyes studying him carefully before she looked back at the thoroughfare.
He sighed, recalling that she couldn't talk. Trying again, he asked "should we try to go on?"
Again she looked at him, but this time she nodded in answer. She turned slightly, glancing into the cart bed, and Jeb recalled the injured dog.
He frowned and turned to see the make-shift bundle. The lights of the vast city made the dusk bright as day, and the resistance leader could see the slow rise and fall of the cloth, indicating that Toto slept on. As he turned back around on the driver's bench, he studied the crowd, the lights, and the buildings. Even at night the noise seemed overwhelming, the people unfathomable in their nocturnal pursuits. Jeb sighed: one piece of behavior worried him more than anything else in the blur of color and noise.
Softly he asked "why would that Long Coat let a royal guard into the city . . . even if we really were coming for a honeymoon?"
Mariah look at him, her liquid amber gaze as troubled as he felt.
So, she wasn't oblivious to the odd behavior or their danger. Her ruse had gotten them in, but she had knowingly been taking an extreme gamble.
Jeb nodded as if she'd answered his question out loud. "Right," he said slowly. "I think the guard may have been told to carry on business as usual and hasn't received the news yet . . ." He looked sideways at his companion then added, "maybe," on a sigh.
She shook her head in apparent disagreement.
Suddenly irritated at her inability to communicate, Jeb gripped the seat as they rounded a bend. A cry of sheer agony ripped from his lips, drawing curious looks from several pedestrians. He curled his hands protectively near his body, hunching over to vomit over the side onto the busy street, unaware of the incredulous and disgusted reactions from the crowd.
The redhead pulled the cart expertly to the side, blocking in a rather large and showy automobile. She immediately slid her arms around the blond's waist, holding him in position while he retched. Reaching into a pocket on her vest, she pulled out several small, slightly bruised, river pod seeds and popped them in her own mouth to chew quickly.
As the spasm subsided, Jeb leaned weakly against the woman, panting, raising tortured eyes to see astonished faces below. One slightly familiar, if unidentifiable, man climbed into the back of the cart and carefully made his way past the still sleeping Toto to grip the seat rail. He opened a brand new bottle of deep, dark colored liquid and said loudly "another drink to take the edge off, Lieutenant?"
Jeb looked at him and helplessly opened his mouth, unable to take or refuse the alcohol with his tortured hands.
With a nod, the stranger leaned close and poured some into the younger man's mouth. Very quietly he instructed, "don't swallow, Sir, just rinse and spit and call it a foul brew."
Confusion filled Jeb's blue-grey eyes but he did as the man instructed, letting the rather rich brandy roll around his mouth. He spit it out and in a weak voice claimed "a foul brew, Sir!"
The man grinned and raised his expensive decanture high, looking around and claiming "Aye, and a toast to you and your bride, Lieutenant!" He swung off his evening cloak and draped it around Jeb's shoulders like some sort of trophy.
As if on cue, Mariah gripped Jeb's face and turned his head, sealing her mouth over his. The crowd let out a cheer as she tilted her head to seal their mouths. Opening her lips, her tongue touched the seam of his mouth, inviting him to join in the intimate kiss.
In answer, Jeb opened his mouth, confused but recalling the way they'd gotten past the checkpoint. He also found that he enjoyed the soft press of her unexpected kiss. A bitter taste permeated his mouth and he felt her push a pulpy mass beyond his teeth. He groaned in protest and pulled back amid enthusiastic cheers and raucous comments shouted from the crowd.
He finished chewing the medicine and swallowed. Instantly he felt the narcotic rush of lethargy and pain relief: this dose had been more than the original she'd fed him at zenith.
The stranger in the back of the cart led the cheers but, between hurrahs, said in a low whisper "drive on, Lady, and don't stop until you've gotten clear of this city. And hide that uniform if you value his life." He stood, took a long drink from his bottle, and raised it again, calling loudly "romance and sex in the capitol!" The man jumped from the cart amid laughter and catcalls then waved them off.
Mariah obediently pulled back into the flow of traffic without looking back, though her face had once more lit in that alluring smile.
Jeb barely registered the expression, finally recalling who the man had been: the brother of his former resistance commander, and the man who had insisted to the others that the over-zealous Jeb Cain had been the best man to lead them at their former leader's demise. Groaning softly, Jeb tried to fight the lethargy the medicine brought with it. "Mari . . ."
She pulled over at once, turned, and wrestled him into the cart bed next to Toto. Tucking the cloak over his tell-a-tale, if long damaged uniform, the woman slid back onto the driver's seat and kicked up the horses, pulling back into traffic without a backwards glance. Jeb sighed and gave into sleep, trusting she could get them safely to Shiz Academy and his gathering fighters.
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From the shadows of the clock tower, Raw watched as a two-horse farm cart drove up to the closed gates of the old university. His dark brown eyes took in the lone figure sitting on the driver's bench. Stepping away from the five story building, Raw studied the resistance guards as they spoke quietly to the driver then headed around to the bed of the cart. One of the guards pulled back some cloth and jumped as if shocked. The other guard turned and hurried to the front of the wagon, fumbled the gates open, and waved the driver through.
Nodding, Raw left the shadow of the tower completely and cut across the old, decrepit campus to meet the incoming wagon with the apparent victim. As the only person there that night able to heal, he would be needed. The viewer wondered briefly if he should wake Kalm to use this moment for teaching.
With a nod, he ran off to get the twelve annual old viewer. This was an important lesson for the coming battles.
Inside the main dormitory, Raw hurried to the first large open bay sleeping area of males. The two pallets closest to the door had been assigned the pair of viewers for the night. Reaching over, Raw gripped Kalm's shoulder firmly and gave the boy a shake. Brown eyes shot open and the boy whimpered, not fully awake and apparently lost in the nightmare of his long-term imprisonment from the witch's reign.
"Kalm, come." Raw didn't explain; their people used little words to express themselves. Viewers communicated through deeds and the heart. He gently wrapped a strong hand around the boy's arm and helped him to stand, simultaneously sending the frightened child soothing images and feelings of love.
Without a word, Kalm nodded, his eyes growing calmer, his fear disappearing. He accompanied the older viewer willingly, not asking why Raw had chosen to awaken him just after midnight.
Leading Kalm into the smaller one-story building set up for administration and a temporary infirmary as the resistance fixed the larger edifices, Raw nodded to the guard standing watch at the door. The man waved them in, and Raw paused in the entryway, sniffing lightly at the air. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of human sweat, alcohol, vomit, and the bitter river pods often used as a strong narcotic, Raw guided Kalm down the echoing hall and into a well-lit office with two raised pallets.
On the bedding to the right of the door laid the almost unrecognizable figure of Toto in his dog form, fur and skin peeled off leaving great raw patches. The small canine also had an odd heavy, smooth collar locked around his neck. An older woman with steel grey bun and colorful skirts tended him with strips of linen dipped in river-pod ointment.
The left-hand pallet contained the unconscious form of Jeb Cain, pale with sweat-drenched blond hair and dark smudges around his eyes and across his cheekbones. His hands looked like raw meat, much as Toto's body did. Beside him sat a young, red-haired woman in trousers, vest, and similar collar to Toto's, also using medicine-soaked linens to wrap the wounds.
Raw turned to Kalm and gestured towards the dog, whose acid burns were far more life-threatening than the resistance leader's. He led the boy to that bed and squatted down, ignoring the chair offered by the startled older woman. Kalm sank to his haunches, turning wide eyes to his mentor. Raw took some of the treated linens and began to massage them through his hands, letting his magic flow into the bandages. Carefully, with one hand, he reached over and guided Kalm's hands to join his on the linen, letting Kalm know what to do through their connection.
As they worked, Raw slowly brought their joined hands, clutching the bandages, over the magical dog's ravaged body. Lowering their hands, expecting to wrap the poor canine in warmth and healing love, Raw instead felt a ripping, burning pain shoot up his hands and straight to his heart. He screamed out, falling into convulsions on the hard cement floor, vaguely aware that Kalm, too, reacted violently to the soul-searing pain from that unnatural mechanical abomination choking the poor animal.
Raw's next conscious thought was when a mass of ice cold water poured over him followed immediately by a soft kiss to his lips. Opening confused, pain-filled brown eyes, he felt this woman's spirit, her light and laughter. He blinked as the unknown woman with the violet-black hair and completely white eyes shifted to kiss Kalm, also soaked from a tossed bucket of water. The redhead stood there, gripping an empty wash bucket, the nearby wash basin empty and discarded at her feet. Raw blinked up at the pair of women, trying to catch his breath; the pain had been far worse than any energy prod the witch's torturers had used on him.
The dark-haired woman reached over and took the pitcher of fresh water that still sat untouched on Toto's night stand. She placed the pitcher on the floor next to Jeb's bed and shoved one hand into it. Looking to Raw, her free hand lightly covering her own throat, a liquid blue light formed under her fingers where skin touched skin. Her voice echoed softly as she said "those collars seem to reverse and twist magic."
The middle-aged viewer nodded, exhaustion pouring through him much as the washbasin's load had covered him and soaked his furs. He lay there, sliding a hand to touch Kalm's, linking fingers of comfort with the child's trembling ones. Silently, fascinated by this woman, he watched as he was privileged to see an Aquam healing someone; having never met an Aquam, Raw had never seen their specialized method of healing.
Keeping one hand totally immersed in the cold water, the woman leaned over Jeb's unconscious form. She slid one hand to cup his cheek and slanted her blue-tinted lips over his. That liquid light began at their lips and her hand then slowly spread down his body. Glowing softly from most of his body, the blue intensified as it reached and covered his injured hands. Mere seconds passed before the glow faded and the woman sat up, her body trembling, her eyes drooping.
Raw sat up gingerly and reached out to catch her just as she fell into a slump.
Her hand had not yet left the watcher pitcher so she put her free hand to her throat and said, "drugged. I should have known." She yawned and curled against Raw's damp fur, collapsing into his surprised embrace. "Arista," she murmured then let go of her throat, her other hand slipping from the water.
Quickly, the red-haired stranger knocked the nightstand next to her, gaining their attention. She gestured towards the old hipbath stored there in case someone needed major cleaning when injured. She pointed to the unconscious Aquam then back to the tub.
Without a word, Raw nodded and scooped up the lady in his still trembling arms. He stumbled to the bath and placed her gently into the empty wooden vessel. Raw looked to the redhead who gestured to the water pitcher and then the bath. Understanding, Raw pour the water over the woman then went for more: Aquams needed to live under the water; this woman would sleep, and even breath better, under water.
Kalm and the older woman caught on quickly, grabbed the bucket and washbasin, and joined in retrieving water for their erstwhile guest and healer.
Finally, when the tub was filled almost to over-flowing and the Aquam had slipped comfortably below the water's surface, Raw turned to the red-headed stranger once more. She nodded, her expression serious, as she leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, still situated next to Jeb's bed. The now healed resistance leader slept on unawares while the grey-haired woman began to bandage the very injured canine. Raw sighed and turned his eyes to the slumped figure of Kalm.
Nodding to himself, the viewer scooped up his ward and carried him from the infirmary and back to bed. He knew there would be much to occupy them in the morning, not the least their continued travel to the lands of their people. Raw welcomed the comfort of the simple pallet, falling to sleep quickly as his mind revolved with all he had seen and would see.
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Continued in Chapter Twenty: News Most Disturbing
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
