The Source of Magic, page 28
This time was different. John’s hand darted out like a snake, grabbed the boy by the shirt front and knocked the lifted coin purse from his hands. The rest of the group, realising their gimmick had been discovered, bolted back down the alley and out of sight.
As John held onto the squirming boy, a number of the nearby pedestrians patted themselves down only to discover they were slightly lighter than before and spat curses down the alley after the small thieves. John knew this was a hard world, and he would have to put on a hard front if he was going to get anywhere with his new captive.
“Stop squirming or you’ll get the back of my hand," John said rising his free hand as evidence of his seriousness.
The boy stopped and shrank a little with the knowledge that he was well and truly caught. John took a moment and decided what they needed was a guide to Sandgate.
“Listen up, you’ve got two choices here. You can help me find my way around this city and earn some coin for the day or I can belt the shit out of you and throw you off the wharf. What will it be?” John said.
The boy gave the appearance of considering his options and then said, “Where do you want to go?”
John let go of him and the boy straightened out his ratty clothes. John got the impression that this wasn’t a pretence – that although the boy was poor he did have his pride.
“What’s you name?” John asked.
“Calson, Calson Little," The boy answered.
“I’m John, and this is Melanie and Chloe. Let’s get something to eat," John said and pointed to the tavern.
The Wharf Rat was fairly generic: a big dark room with long tables throughout, and a disinterested middle aged waitress with blue eye makeup. John could almost see her on the midnight shift of an all night truck stop cafe. A board above the kitchen listed a few items, mostly seafood based, with the daily special being something that looked akin to a clam chowder. John suspected that the clam chowder was the special every day, seeing as it was painted onto the board.
Once they had ordered and were seated at a table looking over the promenade John explained their need for ships.
“You’ll have a tough time hiring ships. With the war a lot of them have taken up different routes and ports. Not much profit here. I can’t remember but they say Sandgate used to be three times busier that it is now, ships unloading all through the night, that sort of thing,” said Calson between slurping spoonfuls of chowder. "Your best bet is the smugglers. They have ships and they don’t much care what they move as long as you pay them for it.”
“I don’t imagine smugglers have a big public sign and an entry in the ‘Welcome to Sandgate’ tourist brochure. How do we find them?” John asked.
“You don’t. I can help, though, introduce you to Redmane, and you can make your offer," Calson proposed.
John leaned back in his chair and scratched at his stubble while he through. The waitress brought over four bowls of watery clam chowder which she deposited unceremoniously on the centre of the table. Calson and Melanie dug right in; however, Chloe took a single sniff of her bowl and pushed the the offending meal away from herself back to the centre of the table. John took an experimental mouthful and decided that it wasn’t bad, in that it would actually have to have flavour to be bad.
John decided that he wasn’t all that hungry after all, rested his spoon back down into the wooden bowl and then took out a gold coin, which he tapped on the table to get Calson’s attention.
“Introduce us to Redmane and you get this,” John said.
Calson paused with his spoon half way to his mouth. "Keep heading down the promenade and you will come to a small dock for row boats, just beyond that is an alleyway, head up that alley until you get to a door with a painted wooden mermaid over the door. Go there tonight and you will find Redmane.”
Calson held his hand out for the coin which John put back in his purse.
“You get it after you make the introduction.”
The boy nodded, picked up his bowl and tipped it back into his mouth, swallowing the rest of his meal.
“I’ll see you there tonight," Calson said and left the table.
“Looks like we’ve got a rendezvous with the seedier side of Sandgate," John said to Melanie and Chloe.
The door with the mermaid was easy enough to find. The alleyway was devoid of any other doors sharing its space between an open gutter running down its centre to the ocean and various forgotten crates and debris of the city. If there was ever a fire, John mused as they walked along the alley, there was enough fuel here to make sure the whole city went up in flames.
John was expecting a red lamp to be marking the spot, but there was just a thick, yellow candle wedged into a hole in the wall made by a missing brick. Its feeble light sputtered and flickered against a the flaking paint of the mermaid nailed over the doorframe.
John paused at the door. He didn’t know what to expect when it opened and was cursing the lack of magical totems. A bit of afternoon delight would have given them an edge. In future he would have to plan ahead, and get down and dirty to prepare for any magical necessities.
John rapped his knuckles on the door which opened a crack to show the wrinkled face of an old woman.
“Hello, dearie, are you lost?” said a croaking voice after a moment looking at John and the three girls.
John paused for a moment and considered the possibility that Calson had given him a bum steer regardless of the cash incentive. He had expected some strong-arm bouncer, not the bundle of wrinkles in a knitted cardigan smelling of peppermint with a hint of urine.
“You wouldn’t happen to know someone named Redmane?” John asked, “or Calson Little?”
“Oh yes. Why don’t you come in?” the old woman said as if she suddenly realised where she was.
She ruffled back, half pulling half leaning on the door handle as if for support.
The door open into a room that was warmly lit, with couches and arm chairs of down the length of one wall not item of which upholstered in the same material as any of the others. A series of round wooden tables and chairs took up the rest of the room.
“Hurry in or you’ll let out the cat," the old woman said.
John and the girls ducked in side and the door was shuffled closed behind them. The only cat John could see was a portly looking tabby asleep on the arm chair closest to the open fire that was set into the wall. It didn’t look as if it had plans to go anywhere in a hurry.
The walls were cluttered with paintings of ships, some large multi-deck men of war and others tiny two-man row boats, along with other oceanographic memorabilia such as oars, life rings and mounted fish.
The room’s occupants ran the age gamut from retirement to desiccated and were primarily made up of men, the youngest of whom still had enough wherewithal to notice three beautiful women walk in.
“Just head through there.” The old woman motioned at a door with her hand while she spoke and then took up station in an armchair by the door and gathered up a tangled ball of yarn and some knitting needles.
John was curious as to what would be behind the door, as if he was seeing some cunning front to discuss illegal activity and debauchery from the outside world. He pushed carefully on the door, which opened to reveal the anti-climatic view of a kitchen.
Calson was standing on a small wooden box at a sink, elbow deep in soapy water and dishes. The only other occupant in the room was a middle aged woman, read checked with a few steel grey hairs in an otherwise auburn red main bursting from under a small square hair scarf. She was sitting at a long table with a small pencil and a notebook full of neatly written rows of ingredients.
“Come in. Have a seat.” The woman who spoke without looking up from her notebook.
John held the door for the girls, who quickly filed in, filling up the small kitchen in which free space was already in short supply. Calson took the opportunity to look up from his sink, and catching John’s enquiring look, rolled his eyes in frustration and nodded towards the woman as the source of his troubles.
“I’m guessing you’re Redmane,” John said.
There was a short space of silence while the woman finished her tally, lips moving slightly as she went. She only spoke when she had then marked off the bottom of the page and looked up at John.
“Missus Redmane, yes,” she said. "Calson says you are looking to hire ships.”
“Yes, we represent a group of refugees who are looking for transport," John explained.
There was another pause while Missus Redmane pushed back a few errant hairs plastered to her sweaty brow. "Don’t mistake me for a fool, lad. I’ve a lifetime of smuggling behind me and I only work with people who are honest with me. If you want to keep secrets, you’ll have to go someplace else.”
John was slightly taken aback. He didn’t know if Missus Redmane possessed some sixth sense or if he had just come up with a bad lie. Either way he respected her candour and he decided to be upfront.
“We are looking for ships to ferry a small army of savages to an island not far off the coast," he explained.
“Helping the enemy. I’m going to need a damn good reason for that, a lot of coin too,” she said flatly.
“We have the coin,” John said, hoping that what they had lugged about with them would be sufficient. "And I think the reason is good.”
John explained the whole story as to why and how the war started and why his plan, the ships being an integral part, would bring an end to the thing. He glossed over any mention of his ability to impart magical energy. He had no intention of introducing himself as the man with the magic cock. All the way through John was being scrutinised by two fierce, dark eyes.
“That’s one hell of a story. So you escaped the wizards in the capital, escaped the savages once, and beat one of their warriors in ritual combat, and escaped some hidden fort in the swamps,” she paused as if for effect. "All in all, I’d say it's too ridiculous to be made up. You can have my ships.”
John and the girls let out a collective sigh of relief.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what is this place? When I was told to look for a door down an alley I was expecting a brothel or gambling or at least a tavern of some sort," John asked.
“It’s a rest home for old sailors. Those who don’t have family or anyone else to care for them end up here. Some of them have even worked on my ships,” she answered.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but if you have ships, why are you working here?” John asked.
“Someone’s got to. One thing about working on ships is everyone has to roll their sleeves up and get working. It’s something I try to teach the young ones,” she said, indicating to Calson, who suddenly seemed very keen on washing the pot he had in hand. “We’ve smuggled all sorts of things, but this will be the first time with people.”
John was impressed; he liked her attitude. He was a little surprised that she was a smuggler given her homespun appearance.
“What do you smuggle, drugs or illegal goods?” John asked, though he knew he had no right to be prudish given what he was hiring her to do.
“I don’t know where you get your fancy ideas about smuggling from. I transport salt. You see the tax on salt was five hundred percent, even before the war started. No one can afford that and still live.
“I can tell by the look of you lot that you don’t come from the fishing villages on the coast. But without salt people can’t preserve their catch, for themselves to eat or for sale. So I bring it in cheap because I avoid the port tax,” Missus Redmane explained in her direct tone.
“Well we have a deal then,” John said, keen to move on before she found some chore for him to do.
Missus Redmane spat in her hand and held it out. John followed suit and the shook on the deal. Five minutes later they were on their way back to the inn with instructions on where to meet her with the savages.
Chapter 19
Before heading up the coast to the fishing village that would be their rendezvous point, they had stopped off at a hill far outside town which overlooked the road. There they met two savage messengers who had been waiting for them. John didn’t recognise them, they were two generic blue faces to him. They had no armour, only small hand axes for protection and knapsack for the their food and water. John gave them a short recount of his successes and instructions as to where the gathered forces should meet and they jogged off to deliver his message to the savages’ camp.
“I think we can take our time on the journey, unless you have some overwhelming urge to see a fishing village,” John said to the three girls.
They kept a leisurely pace along a road that ran parallel to the coast. The road looked as if it would be a major thoroughfare during peace time, it was wide enough for carts to pass each other if they met going in opposite directions. However, given the war, they encountered little traffic and no travellers while they progressed along the road.
The weather was fine and they got to enjoy the seaside air and watch birds, not dissimilar to sea hawks, gliding in the warm updrafts coming off the land. They would seem to hover in place before pulling their wings in to dive into the ocean and emerge seconds later with a fish in their talons.
John was feeling a little unsettled. It came from a voice at the back of his mind which was telling him that everything was a little too easy. No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t shake that feeling.
That night they camped on a grassy glen that led down onto a sandy beach. John collected driftwood to build a fire. The gnarled white branches looked like bones and when they burned the salt in them gave off green and blue flames.
Melanie and Chloe stripped and went running down the sand into the water for a swim. John sat by the fire admiring their naked bodies, Melanie bouncing and Chloe sleek, as they ran and dove into the small waves that were rolling into the shore. He felt a twitch in his pants, but for all the distractions, he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling.
Selphie sat with her books. She had bought some ink, quill and large blank notebook at Sandgate and was making her own notes from Blackmore’s tomes. She made for an odd figure to watch. She would be reading, sometimes moving her lips as she went, and then would stop to wave her hands in odd patterns, or to stare off into the distance, then suddenly scribble something down fervently as if she was afraid she would forget it.
John cooked up some fresh tomatoes and salted fish into a passible stew and called the still frolicking Melanie and Chloe back in from the water. Melanie’s fur on her tail and ears was slick with water, she stopped and fluffed her ears whit her hands while her tail did whiplash strokes to shed excess water. They draped towels across their shoulders and huddled close to the fire to eat their dinner.
By the firelight John could see their tits still adorned with a few droplets of salt water. Their skin had turned to goosebumps against the cold water and evening air. Melanie’s aureoles, large and dark has noticeably scrunched into enticing ripples up while Chloe’s nipples stood up like tiny top hats. John found himself day dreaming about sucking on their tits, and feeling the stiffness of their nipples on his lips and tongue.
Suddenly, there was an explosion of light and a cloud of dirt billowed up from a nearby patch of vacant grass. Everyone froze and John looked over at Selphie who was breathing heavily and sitting with her hand outstretched looking at it as if were some creature that could turn and bite her at any moment.
“I’m s-sorry,” Selphie whispered when she saw everyone looking at her.
“Did you just do that?” Chloe asked.
Selphie nodded slightly, a look of shock still on her face.
“You cast a spell, that’s amazing!” exclaimed Melanie, bursting up from her spot and bouncing over to hug Selphie, oblivious to the fact that she was still naked.
When they had all settled back down a bit and were sure that no more beams of energy were forthcoming, John asked, “What was that spell, exactly?”
“It didn’t have a name. I had translated something about transfer of energy,” Selphie said.
“What did it feel like, to cast a spell?” Chloe asked.
“It’s hard to say, it was like an orgasm but not sexual. For the tinniest moment it was like my whole body was on fire, but in a good way,” Selphie explained.
“Was that all the magic you have in you?” John asked.
“No, I’ve still got more. And I can feel it running through me now, like it wants to get out whereas before it was just like a warm glow that was sitting in the background. It’s hard to explain, but I just really feel like I want to cast more spells,” Selphie said becoming more enthusiastic as she spoke.
“You should do it again,” Melanie said, jostling Selphie’s arm excitedly.
“Let’s just make sure you’re facing away from everyone this time,” John said with the thought that having a conversation about range safety wouldn’t go astray.
Selphie nodded and started revising her notes and the page in the tome she had just red. Melanie got into her clothes again, only Chloe stayed undressed with a towel around herself.
They all gathered on the beach facing the water with Selphie standing out front of the rest of them.
The weather was clear and a vast array of stars, thicker than anything John had ever seen on Earth, were laid bare on the inky night sky. The alien twin moons were just starting to rise as if coming up out of the black ocean and sent a beam of moonlight across the waves to them on the shore.
Selphie’s shoulders raised and lowered as she took a deep breath to ready herself. She held out her arm and made a motion with her hand. Nothing happened. She reset and tried again. Still nothing. Each time she tried she made a small adjustment until on the sixth attempt she a blast of white light the size of a baseball shot out from her hand and splashed into the ocean, causing the water to sizzle and froth for a second.
