In Plain Sight

“Where?” Iggy said, a tone of the military doctor snapping instantly into his voice.

“Left side,” Alex said. “It’s painful to breathe.”

“Are you coughing up blood?”

“Don’t know; the guy knocked out one of my teeth too.”

“Can you get home on your own?” Iggy asked. “I’ll need to make sure my alchemical draughts are ready and prepare a restoration rune for your tooth.”

“I’ll manage,” Alex said. “See you soon.”

Iggy told him to be careful and hung up. Alex stumbled out of the phone booth, then straightened up and did his best to walk back out of the drug store without attracting attention. He hailed a cab, gave the driver the address of the brownstone, then fumbled with his wallet, pulling out one of the fake twenties.

“Fast as you can,” he said, shoving the bill in the driver’s hand.

He felt bad, giving the cabbie the funny money, but he didn’t have enough real money to cover the fare. He noted the driver’s name and promised himself he would make it up to him later. The rest of the cab ride was spent trying not to swear like a sailor every time the cab went over a bump.

“Thanks,” he gasped when the cab finally pulled up in front of the brownstone. He got out and staggered up the stairs, hoping he hadn’t left too much blood in the poor man’s cab.

Iggy opened the door as Alex fumbled for his pocket watch to deactivate the rune barriers. The old man’s face was the gray of old newspaper as he ushered Alex inside.

“Kitchen table,” he said, lifting Alex under the arm on his good side. As Iggy lifted, Alex’s vision seemed to dwindle down to a single point. “Stay with me,” Iggy said. “I’m not decrepit yet, but I don’t think I can carry you by myself.”

In the kitchen, Iggy had pulled all the chairs from their massive table, stacking them against the wall and pulled the table to the middle of the floor. A heavy canvas tarp covered the top along with a stack of clean, white towels. A large pot of water boiled on the stove, its steam rising in a thick mist over the unpleasant-looking handles of metal implements. On the counter next to the stove, a dozen vials with rubber stoppers had been laid out in a neat row, each containing a brightly colored liquid. At the end of the line of vials were three rune papers and a box of wooden matches.

“Looks like you’re all ready,” Alex said as they crossed the floor.

“Shut up,” Iggy said, helping him up onto the heavy wooden table. He carefully peeled Alex out of his ruined suit coat that still looked like a tux jacket. “Get out of your shirt, but don’t lie down yet,” Iggy said. “I’ve got to get that tooth growing back first. The rune’s only effective if administered within half an hour after losing it.”

Alex reached up to unbutton his shirt but stopped as a whole new world of pain washed over him. He could only move his right arm slowly and when he tried to move his left, he nearly blacked out. After a few deep breaths, he tried again, being more careful.

Iggy grabbed the rune paper on the end of the line and rolled it into a small tube. He pinched one end together and twisted it so the paper would not unroll. “Open up,” he said as Alex struggled to unbutton his shirt.

“Here I thought the bullet in my side would be first priority,” Alex said, grinning through the pain.

“If you were bleeding more, or weren’t able to make inane remarks, it would be,” Iggy said, retrieving a multi-lamp very similar to Alex’s. He lit it, producing a glow of ruddy light, then closed the focusing lens and directed the beam into Alex’s mouth. “That hooligan did quite a number on you,” Iggy said. “Hold still.”

Alex felt the paper jammed painfully into the empty socket where his tooth had been. A second later he heard Iggy strike a match and felt the instantaneous flash of heat given off by the rune paper as it burned. Normal people couldn’t feel the magic of an expended rune, but Alex felt it, probing into his upper jaw, burning its way into the roots of the socket where his tooth had been. A moment later he cursed as best he could with his mouth open. A sharp, throbbing pain gripped his jaw like a pair of pliers and wouldn’t let go.

“Don’t be a child,” Iggy said, shining the light into Alex’s mouth. “Growing a tooth in a few days’ time isn’t pleasant, but it’s vastly superior to the alternative. Now lie down and let’s see to the rest of you.”

Alex plucked ineffectually at his shirt, but Iggy produced an angled pair of scissors and simply cut it off him. “Now lie down,” he said.

Iggy took half the pile of clean towels and tucked them under Alex’s head, then he retrieved the first vial from the end of the line on the counter and pulled out the stopper, breaking the lead seal.

“Drink up,” he said, passing it to Alex.

Alex painfully raised the vial to his lips. He had to turn a little on his side so as not to spill the mustard-colored liquid. It tasted vile, as all alchemical potions did, but he choked it down, then lay back down with a groan.