The source of magic, p.5
The Source of Magic, page 5
Melanie had frozen in place, shocked with the assault on the city guard, a human no less, and the speed with which it happened. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung open and even her normal expressive tail was motionless, paused in mid-swish. John grabbed her by the shoulder and gave a shake, snapping her back into action.
Two more guards showed up at the end of the alleyway blocking the path they were taking. John didn’t like his odds of crossing the distance and then taking out two armed guards, especially if they had crossbows like the first one had.
John led Melanie down the intersecting alley and he could hear the shout of the guards as they gave chase. He didn’t have any time to stop and ask her where they should go and he didn’t want to put the responsibility of evading the authorities on her. Though she was obviously okay with engaging in illicit trade in contraband items, it was obvious that dealing with getting caught was a whole other matter.
Without a specific destination in mind, let alone any idea of the city layout, John chose the back streets based upon whether it put more distance between them and Storm Street. The streets continued in their industrial flavour with more and more warehouses, sheds and workshops taking over the cityscape. Humans were also becoming more abundant and the ratio of Nekovolk shrank. Unfortunately the humans were far less able and willing to nimbly dive out of the way for the escaping couple and while Melanie was able to duck or hurdle any obstacles, John’s pace was slowing as he had to shove inattentive pedestrians out of his way, or skirt carts and wheelbarrows.
There was a small part of his brain that noted that the city’s outer wall was starting to loom a little bit bigger than it had before, and the sounds of the guards were getting closer. He was cognisant of the dangers of running out of streets to run down and that doubling back could result in them being surrounded. So when an opportunity to hide presented itself, John took it.
A seres of study wooden crates, nailed shut and ready for transport to some other part of the city were stacked by a high brick wall. John shouted his intention to Melanie and once again she gracefully leapt over the barrier while John was left to climb in ungainly fashion up the crates and haul himself over the top of the wall. It was prime example of how, in the flight or fight dichotomy, John was more suited to stand and fight.
John stood on the other side of the wall taking large, purposeful breaths, unsure of how soon he would need to run or fight. God, let it be fight, he thought to himself.
Melanie, being built for speed, was less affected by the physical aspect of their escape and looked to John with a worried expression painted across her face.
“Why did we run? They'll come for us now,” she said.
“We were in the middle of the sale of illegal goods and had just assaulted a shopkeeper. We were for it anyway. Half measures get you caught or killed, so if you want to play the game you go all in and don't pull your punches. Otherwise don't play at all, you'll never win and only get hurt.”
John had regained his breath and was listening for the sound of pursuit over the wall while he looked around their new surroundings. A wide aqueduct of bluestone brick carried water from under the city wall past where they were standing and continued back around a bend following the city wall. There were offshoots and pipes syphoning off water to the city, which explained the location of the manufacturing centre of the city.
“I can’t hear any guards. I think it’s safe to head back over,” said John after a short pause.
“No, they are there. I can hear the armour.” Melanie pointed to her ears by way of explanation.
“Fuck.” John looked around for options.
The high wall followed the aqueduct and the fact that they were now standing on a small platform was pure luck. The platform was intended as an access point and led to steps that disappeared underwater. John could see that large door could be lowered across the openings to the aqueduct’s entrance, presumably to let the water drain and allow for maintenance and repair. He only saw one option.
“Can you swim?” John asked in hushed voice.
“I don’t like anything bigger than a bubble bath,” Melanie wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she whispered back.
“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re not going to like my idea. I’ll keep you afloat, you just lay back onto me and keep looking up. You’ll barely even get you hair wet with me under you.”
Melanie looked worried and she pursed her lips as John led her to the steps down into the water.
“We can’t make any noise. No squealing or splashing. Everything will be okay, trust me. I’ll be right here," John whispered, his two large hands enveloping her small shoulders.
As John took each step down the brisk cool water inched its way up, first filling his boots, then soaking his trousers. It was a small shock to his body still hot from the sprinting, but he kept a warm smile on his face for when Melanie looked around at him. Given his significant height advantage John was able to keep his feet on the steps until she was deep enough to slide back into the water. John kept his powerful hands under her head and in the small of her back so she felt supported. If she lost her nerve and started flailing her arms in panic – or worse, called out or screamed – the jig would be up.
He saw she was settling into the water, getting used to the feeling of her natural buoyancy he moved behind her and lay back so her head was resting on his chest just below his and his body supported hers. They began to silently drift with the current.
Even with the cool water, proximity of danger, and adrenaline coursing through his veins, John noticed the warmth of her body agains his. She was soft and feminine and he knew she trusted him when she gave a long outward sigh as if she was holding her breath and the tension started to leave her body.
The current was significant and as it carried them further out of danger John started to relax too. Moving his head slightly to the side he could see the aqueduct narrowing. An interesting piece of engineering, providing greater water pressure to those who tapped into the supply the further along they went. The wall changed as well lowering so that it would only be waist height with someone standing on dry land. He saw the reason behind the change. Intake pipes turned to outlets and there were people upending bins of refuse into the aqueduct.
In spite of the build-up of water pollution, John made the decision to continue drifting just a bit farther. They were passing by where Storm Street would have met the aqueduct and he saw a number of guards milling about and they were talking to their lieutenant who just so happened to be the same lieutenant who had arrested him the night before.
Further around the bend, when John deemed that they were safe and clear of sight from the guards he gave two large frog kicks to bring them to a similar access point to that from which they had left. A small jetty had been constructed out of spare and discarded wood. John felt he recognised the architectural signature, and sure enough, there was a host of Nekovolk dangling homemade fishing poles into the water. From this point it was easy for John and Melanie to haul themselves over the low wall and onto the street.
They drew a little attention from passersby, standing soaked to the bone, trying to get some of the water off. And of course, the children nearby were snickering and making comments to each other behind their hands. John supposed children must be the same the world over, miniature monsters and sadists.
Melanie was drawing the attention and leering looks from some of the older boys and John could appreciate why, if not the way in which they expressed their interest. Her clothes were made of a flowing cotton that, now wet, clung to her every curve. Of particular note was the way her breasts were on display, two perfect globes swaying freely as she moved, her nipples rock hard from the cold water as if threatening to tear right through the fabric.
John made a move to grab one of the boys, a teenager of about fifteen, who he overheard make a particularly lurid comment. The whole group dashed off laughing raucously, easily escaping John’s wrath. Melanie, used to the comments and attention she got from men, had barely even registered the comments that were being made about her.
As they wrung themselves out, John reflected on how someone so graceful on land, who seemed to be able to change direction in mid-air, was so lacking in skill in the water. He considered that the Nekovolk, as a species, had an inbuilt fear of swimming, though if the aqueduct was the only large source of water in the city, lessons may not have been an option.
He noticed that there was some blotchiness to her eyes, and he suspected at some point in their river cruise she had been crying silently. He cupped the side of her face in his hand and wiped a tear away with his thumb.
“You did great. You kept your cool under pressure. I’ve known trained men who didn't do as well facing their fears as you did.”
His words were having a positive effect ,and Melanie gave one of her broad smiles and started to return to her regular good mood, making manic pixie dream girls seem like emos.
They were still sopping wet, though the warmth of the late afternoon sun had dried their skin and got to work on their hair. John ran his fingers back through his hair trying to replicate a comb and Melanie was attempting to fashion her dripping mop into something stylish. John needed a change of clothes badly, though, and Melanie’s patched-up second-hand outfit had seen better days.
“With three gold saved for your grandmother, is there any way the two gold left could would be enough to buy some clothes?” asked John.
“Some of the finest around. That's a lot of money," Melanie responded.
John suspected as much; contraband doesn’t sell cheap. He could only guess at the mark-up Greegson was planning on giving their totem if he still had it.
“Good to know. I don't need the finest, just decent hardwearing gear. Do you know of any shops that could fit me out?” John said.
Melanie nodded vigorously, and the pair set out putting the industrial district to their backs, however, John kept eyeing off alleyways and potential hiding places where guards could be lurking.
As they waved back through the Nekovolk district, there was time for Melanie to give a brief overview of the monetary system in the City. It was fairly basic, three-tier decimal system of bronze, silver and gold coins. The silver and gold coins were actually made from those metals and the penalty for shaving coinage was harsh: loss of a hand for the first offence and death for the second. The bronze coins were an indicator that the value of currency wasn’t solely based on the material worth of the metal used. John’s knowledge of economics was not particularly deep but he did know that there could be major issues when the value of the coins dropped too far below what the metal was worth, and the presence of a barter system made the whole currency system even shakier.
Before the war, when the city was the capital of a larger kingdom and had it not been reduced to a city state hiding behind a protective shield, the currency was strong enough that even free clans and foreign kingdoms would recognise it. She explained that even the savages might have accepted the kingdom's currency.
From questioning Melanie about the price of various goods and services, John was able to get a feel for how much a coin in each denomination was worth. It wasn’t a straight conversion because technology and the global economy was so different on Earth, but a single gold coin seemed to be equivalent of about one thousand dollars, give or take a hundred or so, depending on the commodity.
The shop in question was located near one of the gateways between the outer and second city zones. The buildings were nicer here with very little haphazard building extensions. The citizenry were mostly humans and the Nekovolk who were going about their business were attired in a far more elegant clothing than those deeper in their district. John noted that there wasn’t a sewn patch or stitched tare among them.
When they entered the store they were greeted by the store clerk who, while a Nekovolk, didn’t have the same level of deference to John being human that his kin did. John found it refreshing. He guessed that it was in part due to associating with human clients but also that he and Melanie looked like half-drowned rats, as his great aunt would have put it (right before reaching for a leather strap she kept hanging in the kitchen for just such occasions).
“We need some new clothes,” said John, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” said the clerk dryly.
John didn’t blame the clerk for being suspicious based upon their appearance. Fortunately, he knew how to win the clerk over and fished the two additional gold from his zipped pocket.
With their ability to pay established, the clerk’s demeanour became far more helpful and saccharine.
John was quick to make decisions and had selected his clothes based on practicality and workmanship. In spite of the clerk’s encouragement to try a wide variety of options and insistence that the latest fashion at court was for gold pseudo-military adornment, John had a tendency to pick out rather plain options. Regardless of whether or not he would fit in with a crowd of high standing, the heavily embroidered and tight-fitting doublets that were in fashion and therefore most common amongst the racks made John feel ridiculous. Their bright colours and cut-glass beading made them easy to avoid and from the limited options remaining he was able to assemble a wardrobe he was comfortable with. He selected calf boots and dark blue breeches with a cream shirt – apparently to get true white linen was so expensive only the wealthiest people wore it – and brown leather vest for day wear.
Melanie had informed him that at this time of year it was still warm during the days but would start to grow cool at night over the coming weeks. The only coat he could find that suited him and was in his size, being larger than most of the stock, was a justacorps: a dark brown long coat that finished just above his knees.
Melanie took longer than John, not because she was fussy or insisted on trying everything on, but because it took some work for John to convince her that she was entitled to the gold coin he pushed into her hand.
“Listen, you went through the same danger I did and you've been an invaluable guide. If you don't value your work, no one else will,” John explained.
Melanie selected a long blue skirt which clung smoothly to her hips then falling with wide vertical undulations to the floor. Her blouse was near-white with puffed sleeves and a bodice which pushed her bust tantalisingly upward. It was cut so as to leave her shoulders bare and skimmed her breasts on the exact line that separated tasteful from lewd. She selected soft leather shoes, which were secured to her feet with two long straps that crisscrossed up her calves. They were perfectly suited to complement her agility. She also invested in a small leather pouch which she secured at her hip with a strap.
Once they had each paid with their gold coin and received a sizeable amount of change and arranged for spare sets of some of the items to be sent to Melanie’s, they exited the shop dressed in their new purchases a fair sight more presentable than when they entered.
The evening was setting in, and with the day’s work over, small crowds of people milled about waiting for friends or were already on their way to taverns and inns throughout the city.
“I bought something extra,” John said.
“Hmmm?” Melanie said only half paying attention as she looked down at herself swaying her hips and watching the pleats and folds swish, flow and cascade over her tail at the back.
John suspected that these may have been the first truly new clothes she had owned and he got a great deal of enjoyment out of watching her. When she had twisted so that she was facing away from him John stepped in close, taking up the space behind her. She got a small start when continuing her turn she bumped into him. She felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck and herd him inhale the sent of her hair.
Raising his arms up around her, John held aloft his gift in front of Melanie's eyes. It was a choker made from wide black silk over a thin silver chain. In the centre of the silky blackness was a single white pearl.
Melanie gasped in surprise and forced herself to hold still while John fastened it around her pale, sleek neck. When it was in place, she raised her fingertips to feel it the smooth pearl at her throat.
For a moment John was unsure of what Melanie thought. Other than when they were escaping in the water he hadn’t known her to be still for two seconds together. Then she burst upwards with a jump and spun on the spot to clap him tightly around the neck.
“Thank you so much, I love it,” she squealed in his ear.
“Okay, I’m glad," he said as he toppled forward slightly, thrown of balance by the sudden addition of her weight around his neck.
Eventually she let go and as they stepped off down the street. Meanwhile Melanie kept bringing her hand to her throat and humming happily to herself.
“It’s time for dinner, or at least my gut thinks so,” said John.
“Yeah, it is. The moons are new tonight. We can go to the wall and grab something on the way. I think you’ll really enjoy it,” Melanie suggested, with no explanation of what was so special about the wall was or why it would be a place to eat.
John assumed that the wall may have been a bar or perhaps the name of a park or public amphitheatre of some kind. He decided to wait and see and followed Melanie as she led him back towards the outer wall of the city.
There were other groups of people who seemed to have the same idea. There was a main atrial street running from the main gate to the city straight to the bailey wall around the castle. Street vendors had set up shop along the peripheries and the smell of food coming from a number of them was increasing John’s hunger even further. With a new eye for the city’s dress codes and fashion, John could tell that there were people from the upper echelons as well as the lowest-rung humans mixed in with the Nekovolk, heading to the same place they were. He even spotted the grey robes and outfits of members of the Academy of Light.
Along the way, Melanie darted off into the crowd without a word. She moved silently in her new shoes and a moment passed before John even realised she was gone. However, she was back so soon with two bread rolls – one six inches in length for herself and a ten inch for him – that her absence was self explanatory.
