Mark Del Franco - Uncertain Allies

“What is that smell?” Murdock muttered.

Odors filled the air, the by-products of spells. “Herbs and incense. Spell stuff.”

“I’m getting a cold or something. My sinuses have been killing me for weeks,” he said.

He recoiled as a brownie brushed past him. I didn’t notice any particular scent coming off her. “Weeks? That’s not a cold, then. Maybe sinusitis.”

“Whatever. Something down here is making it worse,” he said.

The Tangle was the go-to spot for people looking for something essence-related they couldn’t get anywhere else. Drugs were one lure. The fey were adept at creating new highs that slipped past the FDA before the FDA had any idea what they were. Curses were popular, too. The biggest appeal of the Tangle was its secretiveness—no paper trails, no credit cards, and no evidence. If both parties were fey, sendings could be used instead of audible conversations that might get recorded. The main thing to worry about was blackmail, but you bought into that risk if you went to the Tangle in first place.

We turned a corner into an empty pedestrian tunnel lined with brick, wide enough for four people to walk abreast but too narrow for a vehicle. “I thought this was going to be a street,” said Murdock.

“It probably is to some people. The streetscape reacts to all kinds of things,” I said.

Illusions drifted through the neighborhood. Real buildings and real streets existed alongside glamours of places that weren’t there. Who made them and why were mysteries. Some people saw them, and others didn’t. They created an atmosphere of uncertainty and the surreal that was part of the unique signature of the place.

Harsh white light lit the end of the tunnel, as if daytime had returned on the next block. People passed back and forth across the archway. We exited the tunnel, and the light vanished. We were back in twilight, in the heart of the Tangle.

The street didn’t have a name, but when people talked about the Tangle, the road was what they meant. It stretched anywhere from two to ten blocks, depending on the time of day. The business of the Tangle happened amidst a chaotic group of stalls, booths, and tables. Burning incense, herbinfused potions, and the rank odor of bodies combined into a heady brew. More than a few hooded figures made their way through the crowd, buyers and sellers masking their identities. Murdock sneezed.

We roamed for a while, checking out the merchandise. Selling essence wasn’t illegal. Mainstream stores along Boylston offered essence-charged stones for everything from mood modification to high-level security systems. On the street in the Tangle, plenty of ward rechargers were scattered among the other vendors. If you were looking for a lot of essence, enough that would drain a dwarf to almost none, you weren’t looking to use it for something strictly legal. The select sellers knew that and kept as low a profile as the buyers. They had to work by sense and feel and learn not to spook a potential client.

After a couple of hours, a dwarf caught my eye. He held a coffee cup, lounging against a wall, watching the crowd in a neutral way that was too practiced to be casual. A sharpeyed customer—or Guild agent—would notice the difference. His gaze lingered on single people—buying essence for the wrong reason was not a group activity—skipping the obvious groups and fey who didn’t need his services.

An elf in the livery of Eorla’s house guard wandered over and stood next to him. They eyed one another but didn’t speak, at least not aloud. I gestured with my chin. “That’s interesting.”

Leo and I separated a few feet as we approached. The elf saw us first and lost himself in the crowd. Confused, the dwarf turned and spotted us. He dropped his coffee and made for another pedestrian tunnel. We let him get around the corner before Murdock rushed forward and grabbed his arm. The guy struggled until I flanked them, and Murdock let go. Dwarfs are strong, damned strong. I wouldn’t have been able to hang on to the guy for more than a few seconds before he shrugged me off like a gnat. Murdock’s strength level had become astounding even by druid standards.

“Leave me alone,” he said.

“We just want to talk,” I said.

Incredulous, he frowned at Murdock. “To a cop? You gotta be joking.”

“No joke. We need some info. It’s about the two dead dwarves,” I said.

His gaze shifted to either end of the enclosed alley. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“Not saying you did. We’re looking for information,” Murdock said.

The dwarf craned his neck to see over our shoulders. Rubberneckers were checking us out from the main drag. “You are killing my cred. You want to talk, then walk me outta here like I’m a badass and you’re badder,” he said.

Happy to oblige, Murdock grabbed his arm again. At the end of the alley, we pushed through the cluster of people that had gathered. The dwarf made a show of looking unhappy, which was fine. The crowd flowed around us, some shouting at us, and not encouragement. Law enforcement in the Tangle was not welcomed by many.

The crowd closed in tighter. The dwarf yanked his arm from Murdock and shoved me out of his way like a rag doll tossed aside by a child. The push sent me barreling through the crowd. The dwarf darted back the way we had come, with Murdock close on his heels. The dark mass in my head shuddered as Murdock’s body shield slipped away from me. Ignoring the pain, I ran after them.

Scrying essence bombarded me from all sides. Every step I took intensified the pain in my head. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision as I fought off a faint. I pushed on, focused on Murdock ahead of me. Relieved, I entered the field of his body shield, and the pain diminished.

The dwarf darted into another pedestrian tunnel. The sudden dimness blinded me after the illumination of the street. I struggled to maintain my footing. Ahead, the dwarf ran toward the exit, but Murdock was nowhere in sight. He had to be there. His body shield was protecting me. I shouted his name and received a muffled response. We were caught in some kind of glamour, invisible to each other.

Murdock’s shield slipped on and off me, the pain in my head telling me when I was falling behind. With a burst of speed, I ran into the next street. Murdock reappeared, ahead and to my left side, as we chased the dwarf ran down a jagged path of undulating pavement.

The street stretched, elongating into an impossible long path between tall gray buildings. Far overhead, the stars burned in a narrow strip of sky. Shadows came alive and oozed across the street. I navigated by essence light, the buildings and street etched in faint white shot through with shades of the green and blue. I passed Murdock as the dwarf pulled farther ahead.

“I can’t see,” Murdock’s voice echoed from behind me.

“To the left. Stay with me,” I said.

Darkness danced in the air at the far end of the street, long tendrils that undulated and waved across the pavement, weaving itself into a web. The dwarf stopped running, his hands out to either side in uncertainty. Surprised, I skidded to a halt. Murdock knocked into me, and we jostled away from each other. “Why’d you stop?” he asked.

I pointed. “Can you see that?”

Something slithered out of the darkness and reached for the dwarf. He turned to run, but a strand of darkness wrapped around his torso and pulled. The dwarf lifted off his feet and screamed.

Murdock pulled his gun. “What the hell is that?”

I grabbed his arm. “Don’t shoot. You’ll hit the dwarf.”

He aimed the gun and walked forward. “We can’t just watch.”

I wasn’t watching. I was fighting off a surge of pain in my head. The dark mass shifted and burned with heat. I fell to one knee as normal vision vanished. The street became a black void. Murdock glowed like a red flame, and, beyond him, the emerald essence of the dwarf flashed and flickered in the air.