Out of the Darkness

“Oh … Hello, Guthfrith,” Vanai said. The drummer and singer was about the last person she wanted to see. As she was, he was wearing a purely Forthwegian sorcerous disguise. That made her ask, “Or should I call you Ethelhelm?” She wanted him to remember she knew who and what he was.

He grimaced. “Ethelhelm’s dead. He’s never coming back to life. Too many people, uh, don’t understand what happened during the war.”

Don’t understand how you got too friendly with the redheads, you mean, Vanai thought. Ethelhelm had started out as a bold foe of the Algarvians. But his Kaunian blood let them put pressure on him that they couldn’t use against an ordinary Forthwegian. And he’d buckled under it, cozying up to them to help keep the comforts he’d earned as a leading musician in Forthweg.

He went on, “I don’t suppose I’m the only one these days who’s going by more than one name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanai answered, though she did perfectly well.

“Oh, I doubt that,” he said-in classical Kaunian.

Vanai made herself shrug. “Sorry-I never learned that language. What did you say?” She didn’t want to give him any kind of hold on her. Spinello had taught her what men did with such things. She didn’t know what Ethelhelm wanted from her, and she didn’t care to find out. She looked down the street for a cab, but didn’t see one. Where were they when you needed them?

“Hat!” Saxburh said-in Forthwegian. Vanai hadn’t taught her any Kaunian yet, for fear she would blurt it out at the wrong time. This, Vanai thought, would have been exactly the wrong time.

Ethelhelm took no notice of what the baby said, though. He just nodded to Vanai and said, “Why are you worrying? It’s not illegal to be Kaunian anymore.”

“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to shout for a constable,” Vanai said. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You wouldn’t have shouted for a constable when they had red hair,” Ethelhelm said. “I know what you are.”

“You don’t know anything at all,” Vanai told him. “And I know what you are, too: somebody who sucked up to the Algarvians when it looked like a good idea. Now you can’t even wear your own face, because too many people know what you did.”

The face Ethelhelm was wearing turned red. “You stinking Kaunian bitch!” he exclaimed. “I ought to-”

“You ought to dry up and blow away.” Vanai saw a cab and waved frantically. She let out a sigh of relief when the hackman waved back and steered his carriage through the traffic toward her. Eyeing Ethelhelm, she added, “And if you try bothering me anymore, I’ll put a curse on you the likes of which nobody’s seen since the days of the Kaunian Empire. If you don’t think I can, you’re wrong.” She set down the duffel bag, slung her handbag to the crook of her elbow, and pointed at him with both index fingers at once.

That was a bluff, nothing else but. So was her threat. Even the most ordinary modern mage could counter any ancient curse. She’d studied the subject; she knew as much. Forthwegians who hadn’t studied it reckoned the Kaunians of imperial days very wise and very dangerous. Here, despite his mixed blood, Ethelhelm counted as a Forthwegian.

He went from red to pale in a heartbeat. His own fingers twisted in a sign to turn aside sorcery-not an effective sign, if the knowledge Vanai’s grandfather had drilled into her was true. “Powers below eat you,” he said. His right hand folded into a fist.

I’ll kick him right in the crotch, Vanai thought. That’s where it’ll do the most good. A wagon in front of the cab had stopped for no apparent reason. She glared at it. Get out of the way, you miserable whoreson!

Ethelhelm drew back his fist. Before he could swing, someone with a loud voice said, “You don’t want to do that, pal.”

“Thank you, Constable!” Vanai said fervently. “This man’s been bothering me, and he won’t go away.”

“Oh, I think he will.” The constable spun his truncheon on its leather loop. “Either that or he’ll get his face mashed. We don’t put up with hitting people on the streets.” He stepped toward Ethelhelm. “Which way’s it gonna be, buddy?”

“I’m leaving,” Ethelhelm said, and he did.

“Thank you!” Vanai said again. She’d never been so grateful to any Forthwegian except Ealstan in her life.

“Part of the job, lady,” the constable said. “Is that cab stopping for you?”

“Aye, it is,” she answered, and turned toward the driver. “The central ley-line caravan depot, please.”

“Sure thing.” He climbed down to hold the door open for her. “Climb on in-careful of your baby. Here, let me have that bag.”