“Stop it now,” I used my command voice. “Take your fight where you will do no damage to my garden.”
Both birds flew apart and perched on branches of opposite trees.
“Better.” I pretended to believe they had obeyed me. “What is this about? I thought you were in a truce.”
Olan swooped down and landed at my feet. “I don’t know what is wrong with her. There I was flying reconnaissance and she came at me from nowhere.”
The Morrigan flickered between shadow woman and crow. That was not a good sign. Whatever had set her off was big enough to make her lose control. I started to believe Olan. I’m not sure he could have made her that angry without knowing exactly how.
I bent down to whisper. “If she is on the other side of this fight, we are going to need reinforcements.”
Olan laughed. “There are other fights in town. She need not be on Fionuir’s side. But yes, if she is against us, we are in trouble.”
I felt the air shift and stepped back. Olan was already in flight.
They came together and feathers flew. I wrapped my fingers in a handkerchief and picked up a few of the small ones that fell from the Morrigan; big power there. I kept my eye on the two birds. Neither was getting an advantage. This could go on all day without resolution.
The screeching and squawking was getting unbearable. I started to think of spells that would separate them for a while when I heard a door slam across the lane, then a gun shot, then another. The two birds flew apart. The Morrigan disappeared from view across the neighbor’s roofline.
“Damn birds,” the old man shouted. “See how you like the taste of shot.” He slammed the door and everything was quiet again.
Olan landed on my shoulder, I noticed he had trouble folding his right wing into place.
It was close to dinner the next day by the time we entered Bank’s Bar. The Real folk had been frequenting Bank’s for sixty years. Before that, the same troll had been running River Run Bar and before that, Mud Hole saloon. It changed every fifty to sixty years, depending on when the humans found it and decided it might be a good place to drink.
The door was marked with a rune in shadow ink, only Real Folk could read it, but it required too much energy to keep the aromas of a bar inside when we entered. Entering wasn’t the problem because we could make sure no humans were around. Leaving was the problem; you just never knew who was outside the door. Now, with the non-smoking rules we were especially careful of letting out the atmosphere. Mark, the proprietor, had asked me to find a spell that could filter the scent of various substances being smoked inside. His idea was to charge a small energy fee to keep the spell working.
I handed him a lump of amber when we arrived. “This will absorb the smoke for about six months. I’ll replace it then.”
“Thanks, Quinn,” Mark’s voice rumbled like ancient stones grinding. “You drink for free now.”
“Thanks, I’ll try not to abuse that. It doesn’t need much power to keep it running, so you don’t have to charge much.”
Mark poured my Kilkenny and looked at Olan before pouring some fifty-year-old scotch into a saucer. Olan looked at me before sipping.
I nodded to Mark and said, “I’ve got it.” Then I told Olan, “From now on you find the payment before you get it poured.”
Mark rumbled a laugh at that. “Some people never have money. I guess there’s some advantage of being stuck in the body of an animal.”
I sipped my beer and glanced around the room. It was difficult to see clearly much beyond a few feet between the slight fog of smoke which was now drifting toward the amber and the candle light which flickered annoyingly, the details faded into the background. We couldn’t wait until the smoke cleared. “Mark, have you seen Cate Witherspoon or Beacon Reed?”
“In the corner, underneath the Shield of Charlemagne.” Mark jerked his head in the direction of the table then left us to attend to a couple of Sidhe waiting at the other end of the bar.
I picked up Olan’s saucer with my good hand, and placed it on top of my pint so I could carry everything to the table. Cate Witherspoon and I were trained by the same mentor, and we’d had a friendly rivalry as students. I had made a move on her fifty years ago and been rejected outright. We had been friendly since, but my heart still sped up every time I met her.
I saw three people at the table as we approached. Cate was in animated conversation with a young wizard I had never met. Beacon, the sprite was observing the conversation while he puffed on a twist of brown tobacco. I smelled sour smoke rising and was doubly glad I remembered to bring the amber.
The young wizard looked up as I approached and then jumped out of his chair as though coming to attention. At his reaction, Cate spun in her chair hand raised to cast a spell.
Beacon roared laughter and choked on the smoke.
I held my hands up in surrender, at least as much as I could since they were full. “Peace. I mean no harm. I just want to talk to you.”
She smiled and pointed to the empty chair. “Hah, Quinn, one day you will creep up on the wrong witch.”
“Pretty girl,” Olan croaked in my ear.
“Shut up bird.” I didn’t need Olan butting in to the conversation and screwing up my reputation with Cate any more than it already is.
“You know Beacon, I think.” I nodded and then she pointed at the young wizard. “This is Lionel; I’ve taken him on as an apprentice.”
I put down the drinks and shook hands with Lionel. “Wow, I didn’t know you were looking for apprentices.”
“Why? Do you think I can’t teach someone?” Cate was on the defensive. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I really didn’t know if I wanted it to be good or bad.
“No, I just meant it was a lot of work. Anyway, I need to talk to you, in private.”
Beacon started to rise. I waved him to sit back down. “No, Beacon, you and Cate.” I waited for Lionel to take the hint, but he just looked at Cate.
She shrugged and looked at me. “He’s my apprentice, what you say around him will be under that oath.”
The apprentice oath was strong and Lionel would lose substantial power if he violated it. Still, he looked young enough to regain any power loss if he misspoke. Unfortunately, that was also young enough to open his mouth at the wrong time. I figured if Cate was vouching for him, I should accept it. And I wanted to just take her word, but this was more than life or death. “Lionel, this is important. Do you recognize that the oath you took as apprentice covers any information you learn while in the presence of Cate?”
I saw his Adam’s apple bounce then he nodded and said in a voice that was still breaking. “Yeah, I do. I’ll take another oath if you want.”
“No need. I wanted to make sure you understood the importance.” I looked at Cate and Beacon. “I need you to agree that you won’t speak of this after.”
“You are very serious tonight, Quinn,” Beacon said. “I trust that your words will merit this weight you bring to them.”
“Okay, Quinn, just get on with it. As long as you aren’t planning to kill someone I’ll keep quiet. If you plan to kill someone, I’ll report you to the council.”
I settled back in the chair and took a long gulp of the beer. “Have you noticed anything odd about the fairies lately?”
Cate shook her head. “The fairies are odd all the time. I haven’t noticed anything different.”
“They are tense,” Beacon said. “They are keeping to their own patches of garden. When they come out into the world, they are furtive and nervous.”
“I’ve noticed they have been hanging around the Sidhe,” Lionel blurted. “They don’t usually do that. Even if they are kind of related, the Sidhe treat them so poorly that the fairies just avoid them.”
Cate glared at him and his face flushed a bright red. I guess being her apprentice must be difficult. To be fair, being anyone’s apprentice is difficult. He looked at me from under downcast eyes. “Sorry. I should not have spoken.”