Wish

Chapter 13

Asha

Getting off a magic carpet isn't nearly as easy or as exciting as riding one. The carpet lands rather ungracefully, sending Idris and I skidding off and into the cobblestone street. This launches Idris away from me, and he tumbles quite painfully from the look of it into a wall. He hops up quickly enough though, to check on me.

"I'm sorry---he's still getting the hang of landings this is our first night out---it's okay boy, I'm not mad," Idris says, to the carpet which seems to be cowering dejectedly behind a dumpster.

"I'm fine, see? It was a lovely ride," I say, putting a hand on Idris again. He was quite sore from the landing and the pain in his body was already starting to return. Whatever he is infected with is fierce.

"Thanks---it looks like we're somewhere near the north end of Tira---the Temple should be that way," he says, pointing, "I've not been there but the maps show it being that way----I think."

"I have been there----you're right if that's west," I say, glancing up. I can't see the stars here. That's odd---it makes sense with all the light. But still. I don't like not being able to see the stars. I have my charts copied, and on my fine necklace---but still.

"Wait here, and don't get caught," Idris instructs his carpet. I quickly sort in my bag to get out a headscarf. Melody gave me a pretty soft purple one, and has taught me how to wrap it like the mage women do. I do that quickly, pinning it in place, before pulling my hood up. Idris adjusts his own cowl when he sees me fixing my head coverings. It's his religion, as I understand mages don't go out in public without headcovers, though in their own homes or with friends, therefore with me alone, they don't wear them. 

It's best I blend in, Melody told me to always wear one when I'm in Tira. Baz and Jensen can get away with not if they so choose, since they both look dragonborn, who do not typically wear head covers. Since Melody and I both are human, we would rather blend in as mages. Fae aren't arrested or anything, but we tend to be up to no good.

"Will he be okay?" I ask, as the worn green carpet slides happily around Idris' legs before going to hide.

"He should be, I don't know," Idris shrugs, "This is my first night out with him like I said. He's done pretty well with commands so far."

"That's neat," my parents various forbidden objects, namely their dagger which always goes back to it's sheath no matter where it gets thrown, are not sentient. Melody said that sometimes forbidden objects are, but not always. I didn't know carpets were. I kind of want one.

"Yeah, I like him, I don't want to have to die and give him to my brother," Idris says, as I take his hand and go towards the street.

"You have a brother? I have two," I say, swinging our hands.

"You don't----it doesn't hurt you does it?" he asks, looking at our hands. He has a very exact method of movement, no more than is strictly necessary, creating a lazy, arrogant air about him. He moves with calculated precision, no more effort than is necessary, especially not on a smile or any sort of movement of the face, to give off the general impression that he is already dead and is being puppeteered somehow. In reality, I'm sure he moves as he does due to the curse and the pain it put him in. But now that he's out of pain he of course retains his movements.

"I feel it pass through me---but it's just like being a bit sore. It's never as bad for me as it is everyone else---that's why I do it," I say.

"Is this---something you learned? Being Fae?" he asks.

"No it's---it's kind of just me, that I can. I'm good at healing," I explain.

"You're really good," he says, looking away from me and back towards where we are going, down the hot, empty street.