Smoke and Fire

Chapter 7

It'd gotten colder since Asha had chased Bjorn and Joan through the streets hours ago. The air felt harsh rattling in her lungs and her skin burned. She huddled in her thin coat and thought about ways she could get a better one. Going to work at a consulting firm as a healer seemed the most obvious but she was doubly afraid now. Would she ever make it out on her first job, or would she go to register as a Calatrava, as all mages that wanted to work for a consulting firm had to do, and be pulled into some dark, forgotten corner of the council building by armed thugs and never return to her old life?

Her life was hard as it was, she decided, but it was her life. She was free to do what she wanted with it. If she went to the Mage's Council, they'd probably give her to the military, and she'd be no better than a slave. She'd stay poor and free, thank you very much.

The wind gusted and a paper bag not yet soggy from melting snow whisked by, crinkling.

"How did you know I was waiting by Dierdre's apartment?" Asha asked suddenly.

Joan squeezed her hand. "I felt you. Your magic. I always do."

He said it like a premonition, leaving Asha hungry for more of an explanation. "What does it feel like?"

"Like..." he paused thoughtfully. "Like the humidity before a thunderstorm you didn't expect, when the air is just about to cool and it's electric when you breathe in, but soft, and quiet. Pre-storm."

It didn't feel entirely like a compliment, but her heart fluttered with the knowledge that they were connected in some way. They were meant to be together.

Joan paused at Wallace's intersection and leaned around the side of a building, waiting for any sign of the Crimson Guard. The wind howled through the narrow street, whisking up the last of the snowsquall and pushed at the gas lamps, making the flames, what few were burning, flicker. Asha shivered well after they'd steadied.

Wallace Avenue was generally a place that gave her pause, reminding her that this part of the city was dangerous even for people that called it their home, but tonight, something felt more deeply sinister. It had started with Teddy's blood on her feet and had only ballooned from there. She didn't want to set foot on that road and planted her feet when Joan took her hand and tried to pull her forward.

"What are you doing, Asha?" Joan hissed.

"Something's wrong."

He searched her eyes. "What?"

"I don't know." She felt foolish with such an inadequate response, but her entire body was covered in goosebumps and her thoughts felt like confetti scattered by the wind. She couldn't focus on anything.

"The sun's coming up," Joan responded. "We don't have time for this."

"Maybe..."

"Maybe we shouldn't make sure you're safe?" he cut in before she could voice any of her concerns. "Maybe we should give you to the Crimson Guard? Is that what you want?"

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. "No."

"No," Joan agreed. "So, let's go." He didn't take her hand this time when he marched out, but Asha followed him like they were tethered together.

Asha scoured every cranny for foes and realized something troubling. Not only could she not see the Crimson Guard, but she also couldn't see anyone. The alleys were empty and so were the gutters. She listened for voices and heard nothing. She didn't even smell cigarettes on the air as she normally would.

They came to the section of the street where people had pitched tents in the alleys and slept beneath once glorious awnings. Before the Dwarf Palace came to Ester and shifted its financial district, Wallace Avenue was the stock market hub. Abandonment had left room for the spiders to crawl in.