The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 24: Transfer (Give)

"Land ho!" Enrico called, and Alastor looked over as his companion pointed excitedly at a brown speck on the horizon.

For once, he shared his partner's enthusiasm - he'd never been so grateful to see dirt in his life!

They'd be pulling into port in the morning, so the captain had said. Alastor briefly debated on running off on his own to set up shop in Europe somewhere, to avoid the inevitable return trip.

If he never set foot on a boat again, it would be too soon.

It had been almost a full week, six days to be precise. Six wretched days upon the ocean.

He'd spent most of the first three days tossing and turning in bed, unable to get comfortable from the ceaseless nausea, and afraid to fall asleep lest he think on that bizarre encounter from the dock.

Enrico hadn't seen the man, and Alastor wondered if he'd imagined the whole affair. But, dream or not, the pain on his forehead had been so real, his companion had even grabbed him to see if he'd been bleeding.

He'd allowed the unwelcome contact, for no other reason than to have another pair of eyes confirm what was true.

There was no mark, and no blonde stranger slinking about. They'd both chalked up the vision to stress over the coming voyage. It wasn't as though sea travel was something people did on the regular, after all.

Alastor had eventually slept and gained his bearings, but there was little to do other than wander the deck and mingle. At least he'd plenty of time for reading, using the remaining days at sea as an opportunity to brush up on his French.

The sunrises and sunsets had been the best part of the trip, with nothing but color shining in the sky and in the sea. He'd briefly wished he had a canvas to capture the image better than Enrico's camera.

The sky was such a brilliant shade of red.

The city was a busy place, much like New Orleans proper. Alastor checked the street signage carefully to keep them on route.

Having a sister university had its perks, and the other campus had arranged secure housing for them during their stay, and they would be bringing back research materials on the return voyage, making them a carrier service of sorts. It cut down on a lot of trouble, which Alastor wouldn't complain about.

What bothered him most was the disquieting sense of familiarity to the city, he couldn't fathom, nor explain. His companion suggested it must have been the style of the architecture, which resembled much of what they had at home, but he doubted it was something so simple.

They turned down a more secluded avenue, and he spotted a large sign for their destination farther up the road.

"Al?" A young woman's voice, close behind him, practically at his ear. He turned, but didn't see anyone besides his companion.

"You alright?" Enrico asked, offering him a cigarette.

He lit it up with a shrug. "Just shadows. I hate this country already, I think!"

"Ah, you're just bothered from the boat," Enrico offered. "Let's try some of the food after we get to the hotel."

The word struck a bizarre chord in him, the shock so sudden he had to lean on a nearby building to steady himself.

"Golly, you really don't like sea travel, do ya?" The Italian laughed.

He went to take his arm, but Alastor rocked out of the way. "I'm easy, let's just get going!" he muttered.

Alastor wanted to be at their destination already, off these accursed streets, but his partner kept stopping to make notes. "They really did bring this old style to Louisiana, didn't they? But there's something about this place that just doesn't compare!"