Page 9 of The Nowhere Witch
“Oh, nothing,” I said, tucking my hand back in my pocket. This wasn’t the time to experiment.
“You didn’t run out,” he said.
He might know some things, and he might be perceptive, but that had been an easy one.
“How do you know?”
“Because that wall would’ve wiped out nearly anyone who wasn’t an infinite. The fact that you’re standing here breathing tells me you still have magic, but if you’d like me to confirm it…”
He grabbed my wrist and yanked off my glove, wrapping his hand around mine. The sizzle of magic intermingling was instant.
He dropped my hand. “You’re fine. More than fine. You might have more than is good for you.” He handed me back my glove while shaking his head. “Iknewhe was underplaying it,” Oscar said, more to himself than me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, clasping my hands together, wishing there were some way to self-test.
“Ask Hawk.” He laughed, leaving me wondering while he opened the door.
I looked up, realizing we’d stopped in front of a building with darkened windows and no sign. It was a bar of sorts. Hawk had brought me here what seemed like ages ago to meet some of his people. It was the only place I hadn’t begged for a job in today, mostly because it didn’t look like it was open for customers, or people that hadn’t been stamped and approved by Hawk.
The place was dimly lit, with a scattering of candles around the room and a smoky haze that seemed to be a permanent fixture in the place.
There were only a handful of people inside. A couple of guys sitting in the corner that looked up as we walked in, who nodded in our direction, and a man wiping down the bar. He had a face that looked like it had been dried and tanned a thousand years ago, black hair pulled back, adding to the severity of his expression.
Oscar grabbed a stool, and I took the one beside him.
“Oscar, what can I get you two tonight?” the barman asked as he gave me a once-over.
“Zark, I’ll have an ale, and something hot for my friend here.”
Boiling sounded good right about now. I wasn’t sure anything else would remove the permafrost from my limbs.
“How about a smokin’ mordi?” Zark asked me.
“It’s like a hot toddy in Rest,” Oscar said.
“That would be wonderful,” I replied.
“And a couple of those buttered buns you always have stashed in back.”
Buttered buns? This was definitely better than being curled up in the corner of Zab’s couch.
“How many places did you try to get hired at today?” Oscar asked.
“All of them. Every place I could find,” I answered, and didn’t even mind. My attention was on the plate of buns heading our way. They looked like some sort of cinnamon bun, dripping in butter.
The steaming drink Zark placed next to it smelled like heaven and tasted even better. I’d had a hot toddy before, but this tasted more like melted caramel.
I was halfway through a bun when Oscar turned to Zark and asked, “Hey, weren’t you looking for some help around here?”
I sipped on the smokin’ mordi, trying to get that last bite down while I nudged Oscar with my boot under the bar. Zark wasn’t going to hire me, and I was hoping to have a relaxing drink without a side of humiliation.
“I’m always hiring on and off, but not right now,” he said, his eyes darting in my direction and then back to Oscar, sending a signal that could’ve been shot off by a flare gun.
Yep. As expected. Too bad the reason wasn’t as apparent. Was it because I was from Rest? Did they think I was incapable of doing hard work? Or did they think all Resters were stupid? If I just knew the reason…
“But word was youarelooking for some help,” Oscar said, as if I hadn’t kicked him.
I kicked him again, harder this time.