Realm of Skill

This is Part two to Realm of Skill: A Mission. If you enjoy this series, leave a like and I'll consider posting a part three!

Joz and Esna made their way into the narrow alleyways of the part of the city known as the Walks. Here, a tangle of narrow streets and passageways wound themselves in haphazard circles, filled with people of every kind, and entertainment for anyone who wanted it. Inns and pubs lined the road, but most of the people plied their business on the street, sitting on corners and calling out to passersby on the crowded sidewalks. To one side, a blissbringer sold good luck charms to anyone who had the money to buy one. Few had. Joz could not imagine paying for even one of the smaller charms, meant to bring luck in a small situation. Blissbringing was a skill that made good money. Musicmakers worked nearby, waving brightly colored scarves to play whatever music their audience requested. But by far the most common business was Lovecraft, with old and young flocking to be given love potions or charms. Over it all, bright lights began to be lit as evening came, and more and more people took to the streets to enjoy a night’s fun.

Joz let Esna lead the way, although he knew the Walks like the palm of his hand. He had been born not a block from where they stood, in a small garret room. As soon as he was old enough for her to leave, his mother had dropped him off every day at a neighbor woman’s rooms, and gone off to work for hours at a time. Eventually she would come back. It wasn’t until Joz was nine that he realized there was something wrong with her, that she didn’t have a skill. He thought everyone was born with a skill, only foreigners were not. Of course, there were many foreigners in the city, but Joz only saw them from a distance. His mother would not tell him why she had no skill, although she told him every day, anxiety in her voice, that he must practice his own. But he had no one to show him how to control his hands to make locks spring open at will, so he became a mediocre locksmith, at best.

They had reached the heart of the Walks, and Esna wove her way through the crowd to a narrow doorway, where a bundle of old blankets lay in a corner. “Malinda!” Esna called over the noise of the crowd. The bundle shifted, and in the gleam of a lantern, Joz saw the face of an older woman, straightening from the pile of blankets.

“I’ve brought a friend,” Esna stepped closer, and Joz nodded in greeting. “We’re looking for a spell.”

“What spell do you want?” the woman asked, her voice dry and warm.

“I need a time jinx,” Joz told her.

She tilted her head to one side and nodded slowly. Then she reached into the depths of her blankets and pulled out a small object, its crisscrossing metal tubes gleaming dully in the lantern light. Joz reached for it eagerly.

“Thank you!” he exclaimed, relief flooding his face.

“It’s my last one,” the woman remarked. “It’ll cost you a pretty penny.”

Joz stilled. He hadn’t thought of a price. He had no money, and certainly not enough to pay for a time jinx. He grabbed Esna’s arm.

“You didn’t tell me I had to buy it!” he hissed. “I can’t afford it, you know that.”

By the look on Esna’s face he realized that the idea hadn’t even occurred to her. She bit her lip, looking around.

“Well?” Malinda’s voice demanded. “Show me what you got.”

Joz turned angrily away, but Esna pushed in front of him. “Here.” She reached to her neck and unclasped a necklace, its bright stones sparkling even in the dim light. It lay heavy in her hand. The woman took it quickly, turning it this way and that before handing over the jinx to Esna. As Esna straightened, Joz saw the gleam of another necklace at her throat, a heart-shaped locket. She pushed the jinx into his pocket. “Thank me later.”

He grinned a little sheepishly and the two of them turned to go, when suddenly a commotion broke out in the street ahead of them. From the midst of the crowd, a group of armed guards came rushing forward. Before they could move, one of them had clamped a hand over Esna’s eyes and two others had pinned her arms to her sides. Joz knew that Esna needed to be able to see to shapeshift, without her sight she was trapped. He lunged towards her, but already the guards were pushing him back. In a desperate attempt, Esna wrenched one arm free and tore the locket from her neck. She barely managed to press it into Joz’s hand before the guards dragged her down the street.

Dazedly, he snapped the locket open—and froze. Inside was a pale blue cross painted on a white field. The symbol of the Resistance.