Michael Scott - The Magician

“In 1889. I left a couple of months later.”

Scathach stopped outside the Metro station and asked directions from a newspaper and magazine seller. The tiny Chinese woman spoke very little French so Scathach quickly switched to another language. Sophie abruptly realized that she recognized it-it was Mandarin. The smiling clerk came out from behind the counter and pointed down the street, speaking so quickly that Sophie was unable to pick up individual words, despite the Witch’s knowledge of the language. It sounded as if she were singing. Scathach thanked her, then bowed, and the woman matched the bow.

Sophie caught the Warrior’s arm and dragged her away. “So much for not attracting attention to yourself,” she murmured. “People were starting to stare.”

“What were they staring at?” Scathach asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Oh, probably just the sight of a white girl speaking fluent Chinese and then bowing,” Sophie said with a grin. “It was quite a performance.”

“One day everyone will speak Mandarin, and bowing is just good manners,” Scathach said, setting off down the street, following the directions the woman had given.

Sophie fell into step beside her. “Where did you learn Chinese?” she asked.

“In China. Actually, I was speaking Mandarin to the woman, but I also speak Wu and Cantonese. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Far East over the centuries. I used to love it there.”

They walked in silence, and then Sophie said, “So how many languages do you speak?”

Scathach frowned, eyes briefly closing as she considered. “Six or seven…”

Sophie nodded. “Six or seven; that’s impressive. My mom and dad want us to learn Spanish, and Dad is teaching us Greek and Latin. But I’d really like to learn Japanese. I really want to visit Japan,” she added.

“…six or seven hundred,” Scathach continued, then laughed aloud at the stunned expression on Sophie’s face. She slipped her arm through Sophie’s. “Well, I suppose a few of those would be dead languages, so I’m not sure they count, but remember, I’ve been around for a very long time.”

“Have you really lived for two and a half thousand years?” Sophie asked, glancing sidelong at the girl who looked no older than seventeen. She suddenly grinned: never once had she imagined herself asking a question like that. It was just another example of how her life had changed.

“Two thousand, five hundred and seventeen humani years.” Scathach smiled a tight-lipped smile that hid her vampire teeth. “Hekate once abandoned me in a particularly nasty Underworld Shadowrealm. It took me centuries to find my way out. And when I was younger I spent a lot of time in the Shadowrealms of Lyonesse, Hy-Brasil and Tir na nOg, where time moves at a different pace. Shadowrealm time is not the same as humani time, so I really only count my time on this earth. And who knows, you may get to find out for yourself. You and Josh are unique and powerful and will grow even more powerful as you master the elemental magics. If you don’t discover the secret of immortality yourselves, someone may offer it to you as a gift. Come on, let’s cross.” Catching hold of Sophie’s hand, she pulled her across a narrow road.

Although it had only just turned six in the morning, traffic was starting to build. Vans were making deliveries to restaurants, and the chill morning air was beginning to fill with the mouth-watering odors of fresh-baked bread and pastries and percolating coffee. Sophie breathed in the familiar fragrances: croissants and coffee reminded her that only two days ago she had been serving those in The Coffee Cup. She blinked away the sting of sudden tears. So much had happened, so much had changed in the past two days. “What’s it like to live so long?” she wondered aloud.

“Lonely,” Scatty said quietly.

“How long…how long will you live?” she asked the Warrior cautiously.

Scatty shrugged and smiled. “Who knows? If I’m careful, exercise regularly and watch my diet, I could live another couple of thousand years.” Then her smile faded. “But I’m not invulnerable, nor am I invincible. I can be killed.” She saw the stricken look on Sophie’s face and squeezed her arm. “But that’s not going to happen. Do you know how many humani, immortals, Elders, were-creatures and assorted monsters have tried to kill me?”

The girl shook her head.

“Well, nor do I, actually. But there have been thousands. Maybe even tens of thousands. And I’m still here; what does that tell you?”

“That you’re good?”

“Hah! I’m better than good. I am the best. I am the Warrior.” Scathach stopped and looked into a bookshop window, but Sophie noticed that when she turned to talk, her bright green eyes were darting everywhere, taking in their surroundings.

Resisting the temptation to turn around, Sophie lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are we being followed?” She was surprised to discover that she wasn’t the least bit afraid; she knew, instinctively, that nothing could harm her when she was with Scatty.

“No, I don’t think so. Just old habits.” Scathach smiled. “The same habits that have kept me alive through the centuries.” She moved away from the shop and Sophie linked her arm with Scatty’s.

“Nicholas called you other names when we met you…” Sophie frowned, trying to remember how he’d first introduced Scathach back in San Francisco only two days ago. “He called you the Warrior Maid, the Shadow, the Daemon Slayer, the King Maker.”

“Those are just names,” Scathach muttered, sounding embarrassed.

“They sound like more than names,” Sophie pressed. “They sound like titles…titles you’ve earned?” she persisted.

“Well, I’ve had lots of names,” Scathach said, “names my friends gave me, names my foes called me. I was the Warrior Maid first, and then I became the Shadow, because of my skills at concealment. I perfected the first camouflage clothing.”

“You sound like a ninja,” Sophie laughed. Listening to the Warrior talk, images from the Witch’s memories flickered through her head, and she knew that Scatty was telling the truth.

“I tried teaching ninjas, but they were never that good, believe me. I became the Daemon Slayer when I killed Raktabija. And I was called the King Maker when I helped put Arthur on the throne,” she added, her voice turning grim. She shook her head quickly. “That was a mistake. And not my first either.” She laughed, but it came out shaky and sounding forced. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“My dad says you can learn from your mistakes.”

Scatty barked a laugh. “Not me.” She was unable to keep the note of bitterness from her voice.

“It sounds like you’ve had a tough life,” Sophie said quietly.

“It’s been tough,” the Warrior admitted.

“Has there ever been a…” Sophie paused, hunting for the word. “Have you ever had a…a boyfriend?”

Scathach looked at her sharply, then turned her face away to stare into a shop window. For a moment Sophie thought she was examining the display of shoes, but then she realized that the Warrior was looking at her own reflection in the glass. The girl wondered what she saw.

“No,” Scatty finally admitted. “There’s never been anyone close, anyone special.” She smiled tightly. “The Elders fear and avoid me. And I try not to get too close to humani. It’s too hard watching them age and die. That is the curse of immortality: to watch the world change, to see everything you know wither. Remember that, Sophie, if someone offers you the gift of immortality.” She made the last word sound like a profanity.

“It sounds so lonely,” Sophie said carefully. She never thought about what it must be like to be immortal before-to live on while everything familiar changed and everyone you knew left you. They walked a dozen steps in silence before Scatty spoke again.