Chapter 39. Enchanter

  Jeremiah sat on top of a poor excuse for a roof on the edge of The Pit. The embering smoke from a thousand fires glowed and sparked like tiny thunderclouds emerging from chimneys all throughout the city. Jeremiah watched the great golden mansion at The Pit’s root. Its windows glowed with soft flickering light like they did every night. The exterior was illuminated by torches lit by the guards, and the entire building reflected and magnified every light The Pit created until it practically glowed. It was like a trophy for one man's victory over the inevitable.

  “Hey Bruno,” said Jeremiah.

  “What? Bullshit you heard me,” said Bruno sitting down next to Jeremiah.

  “The alternative is I just say ‘Hey Bruno’ every so often in case you're nearby,” said Jeremiah.

  Bruno grumbled, unaware that was exactly the case.

  “So, the Gilded Tomb huh?” said Bruno.

  “So you’re familiar?” asked Jeremiah. He wasn’t surprised.

  “It’s legendary in thief circles.. Used to be considered the greatest challenge a rogue could face, now it's just considered an interesting way to die,” said Bruno. He produced a bottle of amber liquor and two small glasses.

  “What’s the occasion?” asked Jeremiah. The bottle looked fancy, the cut glass refracted what little light there was, making the bottle sparkle even at night.

  “We just miss you,” said Bruno. Jeremiah chuckled. “We do, really. Doesn’t feel right without you around.”

  “How are things back home?” asked Jeremiah.

  Bruno sighed and poured the pair of glasses, “Not great. The house is gone. Allison’s people got our stuff out, but there’s nothing left but rubble.”

  Jeremiah took his shot, it was woody and strong, but tasted nice. He still gagged, but tried to mask it as a cough.

  “Wuss,” said Bruno.

  “Shut up,” said Jeremiah.

  “Guessing the Gilded Tomb is your ticket in?” said Bruno.

  “Yup. All I have to do is rob a death trap and I’m in. I hope you’re having better luck,” said Jeremiah, coughing into his sleeve.

  “Nope. This city is rife with secret societies and cults. There’s one around every corner. Mostly they’re filled with old, rich men that hire each others kids and have secret handshakes,” Bruno took his own shot, silently.

  Jeremiah refilled his glass, he needed to redeem himself. “Not even interesting cults huh?”

  Bruno nodded, “There was one that worshiped a cockroach god. That was interesting anyways. Not surprising that they scattered the moment they were discovered.”

  Jeremiah laughed, “Hisspo! Yeah it’s some kind of nature spirit that manifests as a cockroach.”

  Bruno echoed the laugh and poured a second shot of his own, “How’d you know that?”

  “It’s mentioned in Flusoh’s books sometimes. Hisspo’s ancient,” said Jeremiah. He brought the glass to his lips, but the smell made him pause. Not wanting to fail completely, he forced himself to take half a shot.

  “New things every day,” said Bruno absently.

  They watched The Gilded Tomb together for a while, seeing the tiny men putter about, moving only inches from their perspective.

  “I wanted to apologize,” said Jeremiah, “I didn't realize what this whole ordeal was going to be like. I may have thought it was going to be easier than it was.”

  “Thought maybe you’d smarts your way out of it huh?” asked Bruno with a smirk.

  “Yeah, maybe. I just…I didn’t realize how unfair it was going to feel, you know? It’s like the ground falls out from beneath you, and you try to climb out, but it just keeps falling away and there’s nothing to grab,” said Jeremiah. He realized he knew that feeling. He felt that when he buried Vivica. He pursed his lips and hoped Bruno wouldn’t say anything.

  “Oh I know,” said Bruno.

  “I guess I just want to say that I get it now,” said Jeremiah.

  “You get what?” asked Bruno, taking his second shot and setting the glass down. He removed a black glove from one of his hands.

  “I get what it’s like. To live that life. To really be a part of-” Bruno reached over and slapped him across the cheek. Not as hard as he could, but hard enough to sting.

  Jeremiah put a hand to his burning cheek, “Ow?”

  Bruno began putting his glove back on, “You have been out here for, what, a month or two? You’re tall, and have a history of being well fed. You can read, you can write, you didn’t grow up stunted or damaged. And most of all, most of all, you can quit anytime you want. You can hang up your rags, come home, and people who care about you will welcome you with open arms. No one down there,” Bruno gestured at the dilapidated houses and soot choked fires, “can just walk away. They’ve been in it since day one, and they’ll be in it till the day they die. No escape. The luckiest, smartest, and meanest of them might accomplish enough in their lives to give the kids of their kids a fighting chance to get out. But those stories are few and far between.”

  “Alright sorry,” said Jeremiah defensively.

  “No sorry. You don’t know, you can’t. You’re past the point of ever knowing, and you passed it decades ago,” said Bruno.

  They didn’t say anything for a while. Bruno took another shot, and Jeremiah took that as a sign of continued friendship.

  “So, how are the girls?” asked Jeremiah, hoping Bruno would take the subject change.

  “Allison’s worries about you every day, but I think she enjoys being a guard. Delilah isn’t doing so good, always wrapped up in new mail and legal challenges she needs to navigate. She’s not taking the loss of her house very well either.”

  “Poor girl, that’s the only one she had left,” said Jeremiah. Delilah’s moments of sentimentality were few and far between, but they were strong. That house was where she kept her heart.

  “Poor girl indeed. Clearly not in her right mind nowadays,” said Bruno.

  Uh-oh, thought Jeremiah. This was leading somewhere.

  “So…” said Bruno.

  “Sew buttons,” said Jeremiah.

  “Maybe we should have a little talk about our friend Delilah,” said Bruno, filling Jeremiah’s glass.

  “Not sure there’s much to talk about,” said Jeremiah. Or at least not much he wanted to talk about.

  “I disagree. I think you two may have agreed to do a little something, once this mission is over,” said Bruno.

  “We were literally in another dimension when we talked about that,” said Jeremiah, “how could you possibly know that?” He took a full shot and embraced the gag, it made for less coughing.

  “Don’t need to be a fly on the wall to know what happened in there,” said Bruno.

  “Alright, well what about it?” asked Jeremiah. His head was starting to swim, there wasn’t much of him nowadays to absorb alcohol.

  Bruno put a hand on his shoulder, “You know I love you buddy. But I think, for the sake of all that is good in the world, you should reconsider.”

  “‘For the sake of all that is good’.” repeated Jeremiah, the absurdity made him laugh.

  “It’s true! Delilah is meant to marry into a power couple that will advance her goals and, hopefully, get her into a position of real power one day. Where she can do some real good,” said Bruno.

  “Woah woah woah! Marry? We just agreed on a date, slow down Bruno.” Was he joking?

  “I’m just worried. You two run at different speeds, operate on different levels. I don’t want to risk the only real family I’ve ever known on a bad breakup, you know?” said Bruno, taking another shot. He refilled Jeremiah’s.

  “Yeah, that would suck,” said Jeremiah. This was Jeremiah’s family now too. Jeopardizing that seemed foolish.

  “Also, and I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but she’s kind of crazy. You know she doesn’t really turn off right? That ambition is ceaseless. She’s still technically dating some guy from a couple of years ago.”

  “Technically?” said Jeremiah. This was news.

  “Well, they never broke up. She just kind of…forgot about him I think. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  Jeremiah looked out over the excuses for roofs of The Pit, so many lives and so many problems all playing out at once, totally isolated from each other. Was a date with an ambitious girl really such a danger?

  “Thanks for worrying about us Bruno,” said Jeremiah.

  “You want what’s best for all of us right?” asked Bruno.

  “I…uh…” Jeremiah did want that. But it was only a date, why was Bruno taking this so seriously. Unless…

  “Bruno, do you have a…a thing? For Delilah?” asked Jeremiah.

  Bruno sighed and fell backwards, looking up at the sky. He let his legs dangle off the edge of the roof and folded his arms behind his head. “Not…no?” he said finally.

  “That means yes,” said Jeremiah.

  “But not yes either. You know? She’s Delilah. It’s hard not to, once you’ve spent any time around her. She gives you that urge to keep her safe, even though she doesn’t need it,” said Bruno to the stars, “like you’re protecting something important, or precious, or rare, I don’t know.”

  Jeremiah understood that feeling. It had come on strong when they encountered the stone golem. He laid back, copying Bruno. “I get that…she’s pretty too,” said Jeremiah.

  “Oh yes,” said Bruno

  “You going to mind if I don’t look this particular gift horse in the mouth?” Even with that looming threat of disrupting the family, it felt like a particularly foolish decision to ignore the chance he had.

  Bruno didn’t respond for a while. Jeremiah listened to the ugly sounds of The Pit at night; arguing, screams, the sounds of crumbling buildings.

  “I understand,” said Bruno, “I’m happy for you. You know she’s out of your league, right?”

  “Oh yeah. Honestly it’s kind of a red flag that she would ever agree to a date with me.”

  “It really does call her common sense into question,” said Bruno laughing. He poured two more glasses. They clicked them together and drank again.

  “Heard what happened to Cutter,” said Bruno.

  Jeremiah sighed, this might not be a fun conversation. “Yup,” was all he said.

  “You okay? With what happened? I wouldn’t take you for the type that could sleep well with that on his conscience,” said Bruno.

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  Jeremiah didn’t actually know what happened to Cutter. He had told Melissa to deal with it, and didn’t stick around to see how she would interpret his instructions. “World’s no worse for it,” said Jeremiah.

  He could see Bruno nod out of the corner of his eye, “Good man. You’re starting to learn some of those ugly truths of the world.

  “You tell Delilah and Allison?” asked Jeremiah. He was a bit scared of what they might think.

  “Hell no. What happens in the streets stays in the streets. They wouldn’t understand what we do,” said Bruno

  “We?” asked Jeremiah. That felt like being included in a very exclusive club.

  “Yeah, we. Rogue types,” said Bruno, like it was obvious.

  Jeremiah nodded solemnly, desperately fighting the big dumb grin that threatened to take over his whole face.

  “I also want to say sorry,” said Bruno. His voice was barely a mumble.

  “For what?” asked Jeremiah. He turned to look at Bruno. Bruno still was looking straight up, but the mirth and joviality he always wore like a second skin was gone. He looked old. Tired.

  “I don’t think I ever got past being compromised. Not being able to save the day doing the one thing I’m good at. I think I may even feel a bit…well, threatened. You’re doing my job. Poorly, sure, but you’re doing it.”

  “Had to add that ‘poorly’ didn’t you?”

  “No, you’re doing a good job. Better job than I can do,” said Bruno quickly. He pounded the roof with his fist in frustration. Several tiles cracked to powder and slid away.

  “Ever find out how that happened? Being exposed?”

  “Nah. Don’t think I ever will. It could be countless different things.

  “So now what?” asked Jeremiah.

  “We raid a death trap dungeon,” said Bruno.

  “‘We?’” said Jeremiah. It was a formality, he was going to ask them for help anyways. There was no way he could handle this on his own

  “Yes, we. No offense, but I’ve known some truly genius thieves that have never returned from The Gilded Tomb.” Bruno went to fill the glasses again, but decided against it.

  “That bad huh?” Jeremiah missed the drink already.

  “Likely the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done, and that’s saying something. That place serves no other purpose than to kill people that enter it.” said Bruno.

  “Desperate times?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Desperate measures?”

  “For certain.”

  “Then I’m going to need all your equipment. Delilah’s and Allison’s too.”

  Bruno sat up in an instant. “No…”

  “I need you to secure me a place to work during the day…”

  Bruno began bouncing with excitement, “No! You’re kidding!”

  “And I’m going to need all of my enchanting supplies. All of them,” Jeremiah gave Bruno a cocky smile.

  “Is this it?! Is this it?!” Bruno grabbed Jeremiah and began shaking him.

  Jeremiah laughed, “Yeah, I think this is it. I think I’m ready to make us some magic equipm-”

  “Ahahaha!” Bruno wrapped Jeremiah in a drunken hug, “we’re gonna be unstoppable! Can you make me a grappling hook that crawls around like a spider?!”

  “No, but remind me to show you the one I did make.”

  Bruno released him, “Allison and Delilah are already on board. They’re champing at the bit to do anything actually, they’ve been cooped up too long. Just need a way to sneak us in without anyone seeing,” said Bruno, “this needs to look like you took it down alone.”

  “Now wait a minute, is this even worth it? To save us from a bunch of lawsuits?” Jeremiah’s day to day had become so all consuming, so pressing at every moment, that the greater picture had become blurry. He hadn’t forgotten, but when his stomach was taking the reins the next copper was more important than secret cults and paper threats.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time,” said Bruno, “The fever is spiking, it’s getting bad out there. Worse than it should be.” Bruno looked down at the streets below, and when he looked back Jeremiah saw fear in his eyes. It was terrifying.

  “Have you felt it?” asked Bruno, “The pulse of the city?”

  “I think so,” said Jeremiah, “something’s wrong, isn’t it? More than just a crime wave or more poverty. I’ve seen things…dark things. Things that go beyond desperation. It’s in the people, it's in the buildings, it’s in everything.”

  Bruno nodded, “I’ve seen it too. Whatever sickness this city has, it’s terminal.”

  “Not unless we stop it,” said Jeremiah.

  It was a subject of heated debate, mostly Bruno arguing with himself, but eventually it was decided Jeremiah would take over the safe house bedroom for his enchantment workshop. The risk of being discovered performing magic was far too great anywhere else, and it could easily be written off as Jeremiah spending time with “that lawyer girl who was slumming it and eager to make some bad decisions”.

  Jeremiah was anxious to begin. The cover story of visiting Delilah would make sense if he were only gone for a few days, but more than that and they’d get suspicious. He still hadn’t seen them since he’d declined to accompany Sweet Melissa during The Tragedy, as the explosion was coming to be known, and he wasn’t eager for them to come looking.

  Jeremiah demanded absolute isolation. With only a couple of days to outfit the entire party, hedidn’t have time to waste on anything that wasn’t either enchanting or resting to be able to enchant more. He didn’t have time for their company, much as he might want it. Even Bruno was relegated to sleeping in the living room so as not to disturb him.

  He arrayed the equipment before him. Every bladed weapon had been polished and sharpened to a razor’s edge, as Allison had taken to the task like a woman possessed. Every garment had been cleaned, pressed, and meticulously prepared for its transformation.

  It was time to put what he had learned to the test.

  The bedroom had transformed from a place of rest to one of industry. Jeremiah reviewed Thurok's books, created test diagrams on bent pieces of scrap metal to ensure he would be able to navigate the various angles and materials of the three-dimensional shapes. The diagrams themselves were simpler than some that he’d used during his jobs, but incorporating them into real-life objects was an entirely new challenge.

  Jeremiah pulled the final thread of silver through the finger tip of the glove and knotted it. Enchanting cloth required he sew the rune into the material with metallic thread. He was no stranger to sewing, often helping his mother with basic repairs, but it was arduous work, even for just a single Adhesion rune.

  He snipped the thread and slipped the glove over his hand. “Okay, buddy, climbing gloves! Let’s see how they feel.”

  Gus croaked softly

  Jeremiah spoke the magic words to charge the glove. The metallic wire glowed. He flexed his hand into a fist, feeling the wire against his skin. It was noticeable, but not troublesome. His hand wouldn’t open again.

  “Riiiight, right, right,” said Jeremiah. The glove had stuck to itself.

  ***

  Jeremiah hefted Allison’s favored longsword. The etchings caught the lamp light in a sparse array of lines and runes. It wasn’t the sprawling spiderweb-like script of masterwork enchantment that was on Allison’s magic armor or Bruno’s magic bow, but even the few runes were enough to strengthen the blade and maintain its finely sharpened edge.

  “This is it! My first magic weapon.”

  Gus wriggled in his bowl so violently the water splashed and bubbled

  “I agree, I did a pretty good job!” The most challenging parts, etching around the curves in the metal, had been made easier with his plate of decay, allowing him to erase mistakes, of which there had been many.

  Jeremiah put his hands on the sword, and prepared to charge it.

  “Here we go…” He spoke the words, and felt magical energy rush into the blade, illuminating the tiny room in azure light.

  Carefully, gently, Jeremiah lifted the sword. It felt no different than before. He swung the blade at the corner of his wooden bedframe, and with no resistance at all, the sword’s edge cleaved straight through.

  “Woooooaaaaaah…”

  ***

  If Contact Cohesion

  “Okay, this should solve the sticking problem,” said Jeremiah, “So long as I don’t clap, but I wouldn’t be doing that when I’m climbing anyways.”

  Gus grumbled at the gloves.

  “I know, I know. But it’s just like those climbing bricks, it should work!”

  Jeremiah reached up and pressed his hands against a wall, and found the gloves stuck fast.

  “It works!” Jeremiah said. He jumped up, determined to scale the small wooden wall and circumnavigate the room like Bruno had once challenged him to do. His hands slid out of the gloves and he dropped to the ground.

  Jeremiah sat up, rubbing his sore behind. “So the gloves are sticking to the wall, my hands are not. Noted.” he looked up at the gloves, still hanging from where he had touched. “And since the Contact point is touching the wall, there’s no reason for the gloves to let go, is there?”

  Gus continued grumbling.

  ***

  The last of Bruno's six throwing swords was unceremoniously thrown into the pile.

  “I swear some of these have never even left the scabbard,” said Jeremiah. He rubbed the ache from the continued focus out of his eyes.

  Gus didn't respond, he was sleeping. Jeremiah yawned. It was time for him to get some rest too.

  He moved to the window to let in the refreshing night breeze. The bedroom was becoming stifling with just him toiling away inside. Throwing open the shutters, he recoiled as the cheerful morning sun streamed in.

  “Sonnuva bitch!” Jeremiah had apparently worked through the night and into the morning without realizing it.

  “Acceptable,” said Thurok.

  ***

  Strengthen And If Contact Gently Cohesion

  The gloves were an absolute mess of stitching. The Strengthen effect added just enough to keep the fabric from falling apart where Jeremiah had sewn in and picked out his stitches countless times.

  The gloves were now, for lack of a better term, sticky. “Not exactly gloves that’ll let you climb like a spider, but they’re definitely gloves of climbing. And they make it harder to drop stuff!”

  Gus didn’t offer any new ideas, just licked one of his eyeballs.

  Jeremiah smiled at the gloves, “I made a magic item,” he thought, “a real magic item.”

  For the first time, he felt like an enchanter.