Fractured Magic: Chapter Thirteen

Maebhe didn’t know how long she waited in that trailer, but it was definitely over an hour. It was long enough to snoop around the trailer not once, but twice, and then grow bored on top of it.

Seeing Roman and Dinara’s long faces when they returned, she raised an eyebrow at them from where she’d been lounging on the bed, debating a nap. “No luck?” she asked.

Roman sighed and flopped onto the open space beside her, face-first into the mattress. Maebhe yelped in surprise as she bounced, not expecting such a petulant response, given his mood when he’d left. “Magistrate Ranulf won’t budge,” he said, voice muffled. “Gareth’s been trying to get Kieran and Ide released since they were first taken, with no luck.”

“We learned some things, though,” Dinara said from the doorway. She lingered there, as unwilling to come inside as she’d been to tangle herself in Maebhe’s problems. Not that Maebhe blamed her. Where Roman was difficult to read, either stern or silly, switching between them without warning, Dinara was easy. Every so often, her eyes slid over to Roman, emotions flurrying through them: concern, trepidation, fear. It was all because of Maebhe’s disruption, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Your brother and his fiancee were detained on charges of conspiring against Unity and are being held on the island,” Roman explained, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “Good to know, but it doesn’t actually help us get them back.”

“Still, they’re alive! That must be a relief,” Dinara said with an encouraging smile. Maebhe didn’t much feel like smiling back, but Dinara was so kind, it felt like the least she could do.

“Unfortunately, ‘on the island’ almost certainly means ‘in Unity’s prison’, which is impossible to break into. With no easy way in and no Magistrate’s brother to ease the way for us, this certainly poses a challenge,” Roman said.

“So what do we do? You’re not suggesting we give up?” Maebhe asked.

Roman held up a finger. “I said impossible to break into. I can walk us straight in, but the way will be dangerous.”

Dinara opened her mouth, then shut it just as quickly, biting her lip. They had half an hour to themselves, but Maebhe was getting the sense Roman hadn’t explained anything more to her in that time.

“Come with me,” Roman told them both. “Maebhe, put that cloak back on. We’re going to visit an old friend of mine.”

Roman led them north, away from Unity and deeper into Gallontea. Maebhe would’ve been suspicious — should have been, probably — but she’d decided she was in too deep to question her choices now. For her, emotion ran in a limited supply, and she’d used them all up crying and worrying about Kieran and Ide. So when this strange man, all secrets one moment and smiles the next, had given her the first glimmer of hope she’d felt since Kieran was taken, she decided she’d trust him. Even if it led to her death, she’d trust him. And she’d keep his secrets, too — a favor for a favor.

What else was she going to do? Strike off alone again? Not likely.

Beside her, Dinara had less faith. Her eyes never left Roman’s back, though she never voiced the concerns that were clearly ready to bubble out of her. Instead, she followed Roman just as quietly as Maebhe, down the side streets and back alleys. They avoided the main roads, Roman weaving through shortcuts and hidden paths like someone who’d lived in Gallontea his whole life. If he said he knew a shortcut onto the island, Maebhe chose to believe him.

Finally, they ended up in a quiet neighborhood — middle class, if Maebhe had to guess, though the architecture here was so different from Orean — filled with rows of tightly-packed, near-identical brick houses.

“Where are we going?” Dinara finally asked, keeping her voice to a whisper.

“I know a smuggler who lives near here. He can get anyone onto the island, only...” Roman trailed off, wrinkling his nose. “Ah, forget it. I just hope neither of you have sensitive noses.”

Being an orinian, of course, Maebhe did. Before she could ask what he meant, he stopped in front of one of the houses, this one utterly indistinguishable from the others. It could have just as easily belonged to a doctor or a merchant as a smuggler. The curtains drawn shut, Maebhe couldn’t peek inside.

“If Ivey’s not home, we’ll break in and wait,” Roman said.

“Break in?” Dinara squeaked.

“Trust me, he’s not the type to mind.”

While Maebhe and Dinara lingered at the gate, Roman stepped up to the front door, the brass knocker creaking as he used it to knock twice, then paused before knocking three more times. After that fifth knock, the door flew open, revealing a disheveled-looking man with a full beard and wild eyes. His hair, which stuck in every direction, was the sort of seashell-gray that implied it had once been a bright, vivid red.

When Roman opened his mouth to speak, the man cut him off, saying, “Code’s changed,” and slamming the door in his face. Roman glanced sheepishly back at Maebhe and Dinara, then knocked more insistently. This time, when the door opened, the man was grinning. “Only kidding, Aim! It’s great to see you alive, my friend!”

“Alive?” Maebhe asked, at the same time Dinara asked, “Aim?”

Roman stood at least a foot taller than this stranger, but that didn’t stop the man from dragging Roman into a hug. Roman squawked indignantly, struggle, and finally gave in, his whole face scrunching up as he wrinkled his nose. It was cute. Maebhe hadn’t been sure when they first met, but she thought now that Roman couldn’t be much older than her.

“Roman? What’s going on?” Dinara asked.

“Roman?” the man repeated, pulling away to look Roman up and down. He held Roman’s shoulders, peered around him to study Dinara next. When his gaze finally landed on Maebhe’s cloaked form, curiosity ignited behind his eyes. He pushed Roman aside, toward the open door.“Come in, come in.”

Immediately upon crossing the threshold, Maebhe understood what Roman meant about sensitive noses. Subtle, beneath the smell of cigars and old furniture, was something wet and rotten. Though Dinara seemed not to notice, Roman gave Maebhe a knowing look. Flushing, Maebhe stepped inside so the smuggler could shut the door behind her. It was lucky that she still wore the hood. The most expressive part of her, her ears were pressed flat to her head, drawn back in distaste.

Her voice, she could at least keep even. “This is...nice,” she said.

And it was, if you could get past the smell. This smuggler had eclectic taste, the front rooms filled with all sorts of strange collections — mounted rifles, pinned butterflies, framed photos and other ephemera. The decor was patterned and bright, giving the place a homey feel. Maebhe lowered her hood as she looked around, and the smuggler regarded her with even more interest now that it was off. “An orinian,” he said. “I might’ve known. Here, I’d hoped this was a social call.”

“Sorry,” Roman said, not sounding particularly apologetic.

“And you’re a maranet, aren’t you?” Maebhe asked. She’d never met one in person; they were rare, even here in Gallontea. In addition to being a mostly northern people, their long lives meant they didn’t have the same drive to reproduce as the other human races, keeping their population low.

When the smuggler grinned, he revealed a double set of sharp-tipped canines. “The name’s Ivey.”

“Ivey...?” Dinara asked.

“Just Ivey.”

“This is Maebhe Cairn and Dinara Condeh,” Roman said.

“And let me guess: Ms. Maebhe finds herself needing a swift exit out of Gallontea.”

“Nothing gets past you,” Roman said, wandering into the dimly lit sitting room. Though the street-facing curtains were shut, several lamps throughout gave them enough to see by. They all followed him without question, as if it was his house, his guests. Even Ivey. “Before that, though, I need to use your tunnels.”

“Tunnels?” Dinara asked.

Ivey frowned. “Eh? What for? I’ll have to map a route for you.”

“You won’t; it’s the same route we used last time.”

“You can’t mean...” Ivey trailed off, then crossed his arms. “Wait just a moment, now. I’ve heard some truly bizarre stories about you since we last met, you know. It had been my belief that I’d never see you again, yet here you are, healthy and hale and not even a day older, besides, and you want to go there? I’m owed some explanations, I think.”

“You’re not the only one,” Dinara said, crossing her arms as well, mirroring Ivey. “What do you mean, ‘last time?’ How do you and Ivey know each other? Does this have to do with the Oracle?”

Maebhe took a definitive step back from the conversation, going over to study Ivey’s pinned butterflies to separate from it as obviously as possible. It was an impressive collection. She recognized one specimen, gold and spotted, from the mountain forests behind Orean.

“I’ll explain everything. To both of you,” she heard Roman say, “But not until this is all over.”

Ivey folded first, rocking back on his heels and heaving a sigh. “Very well. I’ll grant you access to my tunnels, but only on the condition that you dine with me afterward. You promised last time, too, you recall, right before you fled Gallontea with Unity’s Enforcers at your heels. I know you better now, you rascal, and won’t let you slip away again. I’m an old man; I demand my time to reminisce.”

“You had to flee Gallontea? What is he talking about?”

“Dinner as yours, as long as you pay,” Roman told Ivey. He perched on the arm of Ivey’s sofa and told Dinara, “Ivey helped me out of a toxic workplace. That’s all. About the tunnels, there’s a web of them running under the city — sewage tunnels, underdrains, even some old smuggling routes that predate Unity’s founding. They’re impossible to navigate if you don’t know what you’re doing, but Ivey was one of the original contractors almost three hundred years ago, when they were first expanding Gallontea’s infrastructure.”

“Over three hundred years now, Aim,” Ivey interrupted. “Quite a bit over.”

“Really? I didn’t realize,” Roman said, eyes wide. “The point is, Ivey knows a path to Unity’s prison.”

“Aim, to get to the prison from my tunnels, you’ll have to—”

“I know, It won’t be a problem. I’ll be in and out in a flash.” When Maebhe met Roman’s eye, he winked and gave a cheerful smile. It was about as real, Maebhe suspected, as the “orinian” glassware Ivey had displayed on his shelf: convincing until you spotted the inconsistencies in the pattern.

Ivey looked Roman up and down with a critical eye, then rocked back on his heels. “I know you love your swords, but you should bring a gun. They’ll all have their own, of course. I have one I can lend you.”

Roman wrinkled his nose, but nodded. Beside Maebhe, Dinara looked ill. When Ivey left the room, Maebhe pressed down on Dinara’s shoulder until the girl took the hint and dropped onto the sofa behind her, her skirts fanning out over the patterned fabric. She laid back and closed her eyes and Maebhe decided to turn the conversation away from firepower. “Why does he call you Aim?” she asked.

“It’s just an old nickname.”

“How many names do you have?”

At that, Roman’s lips quirked. “A few.”

“A few?” Dinara asked, opening her eyes again. “Why do I only know the one?”

“It just...never came up?” Roman said.

Time to pivot again, Maebhe thought. “How long will this take?” Maebhe asked instead. “When can we go? Will we get Kieran and Ide back today?”

“We?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “You’re not going.”

“What! You can’t mean to go alone?” Maebhe asked.

Dinara stood again in a flurry of fabric. “Roman, you can’t!”

“I’m not taking either of you with me. If we run into trouble, what will you do?”

“I can fire a gun,” Maebhe said, jutting her chin out. “My brother taught me.”

To her surprise, Roman didn’t immediately turn her down. Instead, he looked her up and down, considering. “Are you a good shot?” he asked.

“Decent. And I’m a good runner, too. If there’s trouble, believe me when I say I’ll just leave it to you.”

At that, Roman’s smile actually reached his cold eyes, making them seem somehow warmer. It was possibly the first real smile Maebhe had seen from him. “Fine, but only because I’ll need help identifying your brother when I find him.”

Maebhe nodded, glad she hadn’t mentioned that said brother was an identical twin.

“And what about me?” Dinara asked. “You can’t stop me from coming. If you leave me here all alone, I’ll worry myself sick. Roman, please.”

Roman sighed. “If I let you join, you stay down in the tunnels. No going up to the island with us. Agreed?”

Dinara nodded.

When Ivey returned, it was with a whole armful of supplies: a revolver, a canvas pouch full of spare bullets, a pocket lantern, a rope, a crowbar. He passed Roman the gun and kept the rest for himself, tucking everything but the lantern into a satchel at his side. While Roman passed the revolver to Maebhe, Ivey delivered instructions: “While we’re down there, it is imperative that you memorize the route to the best of your abilities. If we get separated, or if anything happens to me, you’ll need to be able to find your way back. Don’t speak unless necessary. Sound carries in the tunnels, and despite Roman’s glowing praise, I’m not the only one who knows these routes.”

“If we do meet anyone, run. Leave them to me,” Roman added.

“With pleasure,” Ivey said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I plan on staying in the tunnels this time. I’m not as young as I once was.”

“I was going to ask you to stay back, anyway. Dinara will be waiting with you,” Roman said. He clapped his hands together, then looked over their mismatched group. “Shall we?”

The entrance to Ivey’s tunnels, it turned out, was disguised as an old cistern in his basement. Maebhe expected water when Ivey first lifted the hatch, but the inside was hollow, a hole at the bottom leading deeper into darkness. More of that smell oozed out, strongest here. Finally, Maebhe realized what her nose had already understood. “That leads to the sewage tunnels?” she guessed.

Dinara wrinkled her nose. Apparently she could smell it now, too. “Am I going to need a bath after this?”

“It’s not too late to stay back,” Roman offered.

In answer, Dinara scoffed and dug around in her pockets until she found a strip of cloth, then used it to tie her hair back. After a moment’s thought, she pulled out a second and passed it to Maebhe.

“Thanks!” Maebhe said cheerfully, piling her long hair into a messy bun atop her head.

“It’s not so bad, once you grow accustomed. We’ll move out of the sewage tunnels quickly,” Ivey said while Roman swung his legs over the side of the cistern and dropped in.

The thin bar of his lantern’s light fell on the hole, just large enough for a single person to fit through, and Maebhe glimpsed the first prongs of a ladder leading down. Roman took the lantern from Ivey, looping the handle around his wrist before starting his descent.

Due to the cistern’s size, Maebhe had to wait for Roman to make room before she could follow Ivey down, Dinara bringing up the rear, small enough to squeeze in next to them. She, Maebhe, and Ivey leaned over the hole to watch Roman climb and saw the faint glimmer of light hitting water at the bottom.

“Shit, that smells,” Maebhe complained, plugging her nose.

“Your word choice might be more accurate than you intended,” Ivey said. With a good-natured pat on Maebhe’s shoulder, he started his own climb.

The joke startled a laugh out of Maebhe. It was mostly the nerves. It struck her, finally, that these tunnels would lead to Kieran and Ide. For that, she’d wade through as much shit as she had to.

“If I can handle Kieran after he takes his boots off, I can handle this,” she said, mostly for Dinara’s benefit. The girl had been looking uncertain, but Maebhe’s comment at least made her crack a smile. Before Dinara could lose courage, Maebhe asked, “After you?”

One at a time, they descended the ladder. It was almost exactly as Maebhe expected — narrow, dark, smelly — but the one pleasant surprise was that she didn’t have to walk through shit, after all. A dry sidewalk ran parallel to dark water Maebhe tried not to look at closely. Trickles of natural light reached them, too, so that they didn’t have to rely entirely on the lantern.

“I’m going to be sick,” Dinara mumbled.

“If you need to throw up, rest assured it won’t be the worst thing to have gone into this water,” Roman said cheerfully, earning a chuckle from Ivey.

“Not helpful, Roman.”

Maebhe laughed, too, but when the sound echoed, her ears pressed flat to her head. She remembered what Ivey said about silence. They all seemed to, after that, as it fell heavy between them. They pressed onward, following Roman’s lead just as they had on the walk to Ivey’s.

To Maebhe, it felt like hours had passed before the tunnels changed, one flowing into another: the ceilings stretched higher, the water deepened, flowed faster as more trickles from branching tunnels converged. Then Ivey redirected them, turning them down a narrow path — so narrow that Maebhe had to turn sideways, inching through while holding her cloak so Dinara wouldn’t step on it from behind. The path tilted downhill, the texture of the walls changed. Smooth, vaguely slimy brick changed to rough stone that caught on Maebhe’s clothing. It reminded her of cave exploration; if she closed her eyes and ignored the smell, she could imagine she was in the cave systems outside Orean, Kieran right behind her.

Then they came out the other side and found themselves in a new tunnel system entirely. The tiled walls struck Maebhe as old, depicting some sprawling pattern she could only see a fraction of at a time, thanks to the lantern’s light. It was the darkest it had been since they started their journey, no more diffused sunslight to keep them on their path. Maebhe took Dinara’s hand, then grabbed the back of Ivey’s jacket. She’d almost grabbed Roman, instead, but something stopped her at the last moment. For some reason, facing the darkness felt easier than touching him.

“We’re under the bridge, in the old smuggling tunnels,” Roman whispered. “If we’re going to run into anyone else, it’s going to be here. Remember what I said back at the house: leave them to me.”

“How did they build this?” Maebhe whispered back. “Aren’t we underwater?”

“Dragons. Hammering out those contracts was a chore, let me tell you,” Ivey answered.

Dragons. Maebhe gave a wistful sigh. “I didn’t get to talk to a single dragon on this trip. I was ready for it, too; I took a draconic class in school. I can understand ‘how are you’ and ‘the washrooms are that way’ and even ‘please get off my tail.’”

Ahead of them, Roman snorted, but Dinara gave Maebhe’s hand a light squeeze. “This must be so hard. I’m sure it’ll all blow over quickly. There can’t really be war.”

Maebhe smiled at her, though she knew Dinara couldn’t see it. When Roman and Ivey kept quiet Maebhe chose to believe it didn’t mean anything. They didn’t disagree, they were just focused. That was all.

Before long, the tunnel climbed gradually upward. Water had re-entered the tunnel at some point, now flowing past their ankles. Clean water, at least — they must have been in the storm drains under the island, now. The hints of sunslight that streamed down through grates above confirmed it.

“Are you sure you can do this, Aim?” Ivey asked, just enough light hitting his face to reveal the concerned set of his jaw.

“I’ve done it before.”

“That’s not what I asked. Last time—”

“Don’t remind me,” Roman interrupted. His voice was sharp, cutting about the rushing water like a blade. He laughed, then, as if to soften it. “Don’t worry, Ivey. This time will be different.”

Ivey nodded. “Then all that’s left is to find you a way up.”

Roman's secrets deepen even further! What do you think about this upcoming mission of theirs? Do you think it'll go smoothly? Do you think it'll be successful?

Thank you for reading! It can get discouraging writing stories with no feedback, so please let me know what you thought in the comments - even a simple “I loved this” goes a long way.

If you’d like to support the story, the best thing you can do is share it with the people in your life, either online or in person. But if you’d like to support the author in other ways as well, you can do so with a one-time tip or by joining a paid membership tier. I currently offer three tiers:

$2/month - General Support Tier
$5/month - Behind-the-Scenes Newsletter
$8/month - Early Access to Chapters