It’s Magick, Not Electricity
Torryn’s POV
This is bad. Worse than bad. Why did I think a shortcut through the enchanted side was a safe bet? I travel here every so often, after a life sheltered from it, and suddenly I’m too cocky for my boots. Carrying around a fairy-specific weapon is obviously illegal for the average citizen, now that I think about it, but I know I’m within my rights as a proxy soldier. Unsurprisingly, the sheriff hasn’t budged on that. He had me cuffed within seconds of hearing I’m with the military on the sacred side, or the Alium, as some still refer to it here. An identity coin would be handy now. If only the base wasn’t dragging their feet reissuing mine after I lost it last month in that rogue ambush. A whole month! Every time I’ve stopped in for a drink, I’ve had to hope the barkeep would be able to properly estimate my age and serve me.
The tall chowderhead of a sheriff must be assuming my defeat. He doesn’t even look up at me as he returns from –supposedly– contacting human authorities. “Well, we’ve tried to call, but we can’t get through to your headquarters.” Of course not, because they’re on the sacred side! I lean on the iron cage locking me away. My fingers barely fit through the squares. “Furthermore, we can’t let you go until one of your kind authorizes this clearance you’re talking about, unless you have someone around here to post your bail, so why don’t you just settle down.”
“Wait!” There are only two people I know on the enchanted side, and they’re exactly who I was heading to find. I might’ve already, too, if I didn’t second guess taking that street at the intersection, or the turn when I passed the public library. “Look, I have contacts here.” Sort of. I mean, they might be able to find someone who can get me out of here. “You can call them. I just don’t know how to reach them.” Which effectively is kind of the whole meaning of having contacts... I’m really not familiar enough with fae law to travel here. My bruises hurt. My back hurts. I think I’m bleeding again.
“Very well. This ought to be good,” the fae scoffs. “Where can we find your friends?”
Fiddle if I know. I traveled through the city when I left, but the only other signs I remember seeing were for waypoints with names that escape me. It was a whole month ago. “Two young mages, around North Haven. Sitara and Lennox.” Not even a last name. Will they be able to find them in a directory?
The sheriff looks at me with a new expression. Confusion? Disgust? “And just how do you know them?”
Well, he recognizes their names. That’s either fantastic news, or a shot in the foot. I’ll take my chances. “I told you, we’re friends.” We might be, anyways. Depending on how this all goes over, I can’t be too sure moving forward.
He calls out to the deputy in another room, who rushes in to respond. “Phone the residence listed in the system for Zodat Sitara in Hachito.” Zodat? Isn’t that the fae honorific for a soldier? “Tell her we’ve got a human in custody who would like to see her, and advise she bring bail.”
Well, there goes any good first impression I hoped I had on her.
The sharp pains fade to dull reminders of the fight. Fiddle. Life was going great until a week ago. Well, not that great, but comparatively great, at least. I made it out of North Haven, then went to Yaling to find the salt dealer supplying the local rogues. Too bad everybody knows somebody, it seems, since he’d been tipped off before I made it. Picked up a second assignment while tracking him down. Took care of both in one weekend by the Heights. The EFU still wouldn’t expediate a reissue for an identity coin, so they wouldn’t give me a new case yet and I couldn’t get any more work on the side. That’s when I started bouncing beyond the veil more often, just to see the different cities, sticking near the waypoints I traveled from.
Then, well, all of this.
Silence makes every minute slower, but Sitara shows up after all. What a relief. The sound of her voice carries down the hallway, overpowering the meek deputy from earlier, but their footsteps muddle the conversation.
The door across from my holding cell swings open as the sheriff yells for the pair to wait for him.
“Torryn?” Sitara’s hair is completely black now, unlike the last time I saw her. She approaches the bars hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”
I shrug, rubbing the back of my neck. “Long story?”
She turns to the sheriff as he enters the room rambling incoherently about the law. “What seems to be the issue here, Finch? Why did you call me here?”
“Do you know this human, Zodat Sitara?” he asks.
“That’s Arcani, not Zodat.” That’s what I thought. Mage, not soldier. “I’d prefer that you address me properly, if you’re going to the trouble of being formal.” She glances over at me with rolling eyes that scream, can you believe this guy? “Yes. I know this human. I could’ve told you that over the phone if you’d given me his name. It’s hardly protocol to withhold that information, in the first place.”
The sheriff’s arrogance is unchanged.
“He’s with the military on the sacred side.” I am, but I never told her that. “Why did you bring him in?”
“Oh, so he’s one of your war buddies then?” War buddies?
“I met him a few weeks ago.” Her voice tightens. “The rest is none of your business. Why did you bring him in?”
He holds out my F3. “I confiscated this.”
“Is that why he’s here?” Her eyebrows furrow. “That weapon is legal.”
“Not on the enchanted side.”
“Yes, per the Allied Means Convention. Military grade weapons are permitted on either side of the veil when carried by military personnel.” Allied Means. I always forget that’s what it’s called. Sitara is so smart. “Now, when will you be releasing him?”
“As soon as you sign his forms.” The deputy tries to show her some paperwork.
“I don’t have to take responsibility for him. If anything, this is unlawful imprisonment.”
“Well, he doesn’t look like any of the enlisted men that come through here.”
“Surely he has an identity coin to prove it.” I do not, but luckily the man just huffs instead of asking to see it. “You can look this information up in the database if you just put in his name.” Except… my military affiliation would be unlisted, since I’m considered a mercenary and generally undercover. “Why didn’t you follow any procedure?”
The sheriff falls silent. This may be an embroiled feud I’ve reignited.
Sitara slowly waves in my direction. The lock on the bars loosens. She knocks it off with a gust of wind. “Please do this town a favor, Lex Finch, and stop arresting every human you come in contact with.” She turns to me, waiting as I reluctantly exit the cell. “Grab your gun. Let’s get out of here.”
Is she aware how cool she is, or is it that natural?
The sheriff hands me my F3, and a small satchel with the bullets inside. “Good day,” I jeer before following Sitara. She gently traces the walls with her fingertips as we leave.
“Freedom!” I exclaim as we break out into the pre-sunset haze. “It tastes great.”
She shakes her head with a smile. “Honestly, I had no idea who it could’ve been, held in city prison and calling for my help.”
“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have put you through all the trouble if I wasn’t desperate.” I hope part of her is glad, or relieved, it was me.
“No, no, not trouble at all. Everyone needs a good thrill once in a while.” She leads me past streets that look vaguely familiar. I may have traveled through here in the evening last time, when it was crowded. “I’m surprised to see you again.”
Surprised? “Like, thinking-you-ate-the-last-cookie-but-there’s-one-more-left surprised, or buying-a-screw-only-to-find-out-it’s-the-wrong-kind surprised?”
Her laugh is fuller than I remember it. “The cookie, I think.” She sweeps her hand through the air and her staff appears. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be a part of the Enchanted Forces Unit, would you?”
How did she guess that? And, before, even knowing I’m with the military? Has she looked me up, or something? No, she wouldn’t have found that information. More division? Division, no, that’s not it. Divination. “Yeah, I’m under private contract for the EFU. Are you familiar with it?”
“A little.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t really matter. What are you doing back in these parts?”
I don’t know how to say I was looking for her to begin with. “Just traveling through. Thought I’d take a shortcut.” Thought I’d take what I thought was a shortcut.
She stops in the middle of the street, leaning on her staff. “You’re wounded, aren’t you?”
Is it that obvious? “What gave it away?”
“You look pretty beat up,” she admits, reaching out to touch my side. Her fingertips are red when she pulls away. “Also, you’re starting to bleed through to your coat.” The blood on her skin fades as she rubs her hands together, magick sparkling from the friction.
I got mixed up with some fay poachers a couple days ago. Took them down, but not without a fight. “Sometimes I have a hard time being able to find a human doctor who will see me.”
“Poor examples in the name of healing,” she mutters. Her eyes fall to the ground as she shakes her head. “Well, lucky for you, I just so happen to know a couple of mages who can help you out,” she jokes, pointing behind her up the road. A soft smile returns to her face. “The sakura isn’t far from here. Can you make it?”
Reassuring to know I wasn’t too off before. Just a wrong turn… or two...
“I’ll be okay. I’ve made it this far.”
I’ve made it.
The cherry blossom tree is losing the last of its petals when we arrive. Sitara explains it blooms more often here than it does on the sacred side, but only for a week or two all the same. She mumbles something about the erraticism as she opens the door for me.
What would I give to hear those hushed remarks of hers?
Several fairies are walking through the shelves on the small shop floor, browsing the herbal supplements and candles. Some eye me as Sitara greets them, but I don’t blame their curiosity. She leads me toward the back room, her wired hand gently guiding me by the arm. “Lenny? Can you come here when you have the chance?”
I can’t hear the younger fay’s reply past the shutting door.
“Why don’t you sit?” Sitara pulls a chair out for me and helps me take off my coat. “Are you in pain? I have something that can take the edge off for now.”
Pain? Well, it’s been worse, but… who am I trying to kid? “My back’s bothering me most.”
“Alright. Wait here just a second.” She heads back out, pausing in the threshold. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“No, not that I know of.” I wonder if she was hesitant to treat me last time, not being able to ask that.
Lennox’s voice rings through the air as the mage walks away. “Sitara? Where are you?”
“Over here. Just got in. Can you grab a mint salve from the floor?”
“What for? Who was looking for you at the jailhouse?”
Sitara has a small jar in her grasp when she returns. “The traveler that came through last month.”
“Torryn!” Lennox bounces in wearing a vibrant orchid robe, her hands covered in excess fairy dust. She holds one out to shake, quickly retracting. “Ah, sorry, I’ve been enchanting for restock. How are you?” Her eyes wander down to my bloodied shirt before I can respond.
Sitara stops her, gesturing back out to the store room. “Don’t worry. We can catch up after close.” They trade expressions I can’t read. “Standby in case I need assistance?”
The younger fay nods. “I’ll light a few more candles.” She’s halfway gone before Sitara can thank her.
More candles. They help stabilize energy. I remember that from last time.
“Ah, here. For the pain.” Sitara pulls a little wooden slab from a sealed container in the cupboards. “This is an edible salve.” She stirs the olive-colored contents of the jar and scrapes out a spoon’s worth. “Open your mouth, please?”
I’m hesitant to comply.
She smears the overwhelmingly flavored paste on my tongue. “It’s made of mint and rosemary. Try to ingest it slowly. Don’t chew it.”
I can’t help but squint my way through swallowing it, which she gets a kick out of.
“It has healing and energizing properties, with anti-inflammatory agents.”
That’s good and all, but it tastes like everything and nothing at the same time… and what I imagine a handful of grass tastes like, too.
“Your back hurts, you said?” She motions for me to stand and move over to one of the beds. “Can you take your shirt off?”
Damn thing’s probably ruined. The dressing I applied only absorbed so much of the blood.
She sets my button up on the counter and ties her hair behind her neck. “So, how long have you been with the EFU?”
“About three years.” Sounds wrong coming out of my mouth. Has it actually been this long? “Whatever rumors you’ve heard about them are probably false, though.”
“Is that so? Well, such is the case with rumors,” she laughs, beginning to remove the gauze I’d wrapped around my torso. “What have you been up to the last month?”
Feels like a blur. Just been trying to figure things out. “Lots of work and travel. The usual.”
“The usual, huh?” She circles the bed to get a view of the lacerations stretching from my side up my back. I wince as she gingerly lifts my arms. “Your stomach has healed nicely, but this wound is a lot different than the ones you had before.”
This gash was made from a farther range, with less precision. The fairy was already dying when he fired his weapon. “It’s from a...”
“Twin fluke grapnel,” she interrupts. “You were hit head on. It sliced you once on the shot and once on the retraction, but didn’t pierce through.”
I turn to face her. “How do you know that?” How does she know everything she’s said today?
She blinks at me. “There’s fairy poison in your wound.” There was a lot of it. The sparkly residue came from the hook that sliced me open. I washed a good amount off, but had to focus more on stopping the bleeding. “It’s most commonly used for fay poaching equipment, because it’s a mildly corrosive substance that targets magick receptors.”
It’s technically illegal, but those fellas weren’t the least worried about the law, I bargain.
“I knew you weren’t shot from behind because grapnels are designed to expand when the line is retracted. The flukes clearly scraped your back, and most of the blunt gash is on your side.”
Is this common knowledge for fay? Well, maybe. Human poaching and fae poaching are a lot different, because of their wings.
“The poison doesn’t have any known adverse side effects on humans, so you don’t have to worry.” She comes back around to stand in front of me, holding her wired hand against her body. “The damage isn’t too deep. You’re lucky.”
I haven’t felt lucky… until today, anyways.
“I’m going to take a similar approach to the last time you were here, because your body responded well to it. Would you prefer to be unconscious while I work?”
I might prefer to be unconscious all the time, in general. “Is it easier that way?”
She slips her robe off and busies herself with bottles from the cabinets. “It makes no difference. You clearly have a high pain tolerance, so I’m sure you won’t scream if there’s a pinch or two.”
Fair enough. I’m too curious to forfeit the chance to see what she’s doing, anyhow.
Magick healing.
She lays a cloth on the upper half of the bed and asks me to lie on my stomach, washing her hands in the corner of the room. “First priority is to cleanse and purify. Poison is still poison, and there are only ever a few reasons to risk infection.” Her hands move quick as she pulls pink and yellow candles from the air, scattering them around the workspace. She lights a fire across the room and heats a small cauldron above it. “Then I can catalyze tissue repair, and use a soft seal to close the rest of the wound from there.”
Sounds good to me, I think? I trust the fairy mage. “Second time’s the charm,” I joke.
“You know, I didn’t want to press you before, but, wounds like these during peacetime…” She sets up a small folding table beside me and rearranges her workspace, probably according to some hierarchy of efficiency I don’t understand. “It’s clear you’re a bit more than just a freelancer, right?”
A fair enough question. What does it look like from the outside? Maybe exactly what it is. “I’m a bounty hunter. I was contracted by the EFU to help take down rogue fay.” I can’t see how her expression changed when I said that.
“Since when did the EFU start cracking down on poaching?” she breathes, maybe rhetorically.
“They didn’t.” The organization can’t afford to add more to their task load, especially seeing as they’ve already gone so far as to hire an outsider who refused to be recruited.
“How did you get mixed up with them, then?”
“Just saw some criminals and did something about it. Stumbled across them in a small town I was passing through.”
A soft white light glows from her hands as she kneads the skin around my wound. The pain radiates through my core, but I refrain from moving while she works. “I’m going to apply a linen fomentation. It’s been soaked in a rain water infusion of basil and lavender.” She retrieves the cauldron from the fire and removes a folded slice of fabric. “The rain water promotes regrowth, and the herbs aid in purification and stability.” I expect it to be boiling hot, but the heat is subtle instead.
“Can I ask how you know so much about the EFU?” I can’t help wondering. Who is she, really?
“Ah, well… I was part of the EFU about twenty-five years ago.”
Twenty-five years? Well, fairies do age differently, and they live longer. I bet Sitara and I are pretty close in human years, but I’ve hardly been alive twenty-five years. More importantly… “Does that mean you, um, fought in the Grand War?” A faerie mage with the human military. That must’ve been why the sheriff kept calling her Zodat the way he was.
“I did. I was a frontline medic and a munitions engineer.”
Impressive. Hard to believe, even. “How long?”
“About eighteen years. Recruited young.” Explains how she recognized the F3, and probably assumed the rest about me being in the military. Did her tour have anything to do with her hand?
“How young is young?” Twenty-five and eighteen… minus whatever her age is now…
“Half of my fifth decade, just about? Fifty-six, I think.”
Except, in human years… What’s the multiplier again?
I look back at her over my shoulder. The conversion works out to fourteen. Fourteen. She was a child solider? How desperate was the military? Or was she that special to be performing surgery before she could legally drink?
“Sorry, I’ve probably said too much,” she whispers. “I don’t mean to freak you out.”
I’m laying on her table, bleeding from a grappling gun wound, after having been arrested this afternoon, but she doesn’t want to freak me out? “I find it interesting, actually.” Same goes for all the magic she taught me about when I was last here, like the herbs I forget the names of and the symbols that still don’t make much sense. “I’m not freaked out at all.”
She removes the linen from my side and cleans the area with a cool cloth. “This next part might be uncomfortable. Your only priority is to remain as still as possible.”
“Is this the tissue growth thing?”
“Yes, the tissue growth thing,” she laughs. “I’m going to catalyze the cell division and close this gash up a bit.”
Nothing the wound wouldn’t do naturally, just a lot faster, probably. “Sounds painful.”
“It’s magick, not electricity.”
Not electricity?
Strange. I thought I was seeing sparks for a second there.
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