Black Gold Page 2

  The healer stepped back from the open car door when I approached. He gestured for me to push the wheelbarrow right up to the side of the vehicle then reached in to grab Chase by the ankles. He grunted loudly and hauled backwards. Chase slid halfway across the seat, his legs dropping with audible thunks when the healer let go of him. The healer then stepped back out of the way so I could position the wheelbarrow beneath my friend’s legs, then the little man went around to the other side so he could push Chase the rest of the way out of the car. I did what I could to protect Chase’s already mangled body as it slid over the metal edges of the wheelbarrow which wasn’t much. The healer was shoving him around like a butcher with a side of beef, and I could only hope it was because the healing process would undo any damage we did trying to get him into the trailer.

  “Not that way,” the healer said when I lifted the wheelbarrow handles and started out towards the front door. “Follow me.”

  We went around back of the trailer to where a cluster of camouflage netting hung over the edge of a rocky outcrop. The healer swept it aside, waiting for me to push Chase into the darkness. He then followed me in and muttered a few words in what I thought might be gnomish. Bright green light filled the tunnel entrance, revealing a string of glowing rocks embedded into the ceiling.

  “One eighth on my mother’s side,” the healer said.

  “What?”

  “My father was a gnome,” he explained before setting off down the tunnel. “I know what you’re thinking, but he was tall for his kind. My mother was on the short side too, so they weren’t even that much of a mismatch. Not a lot of pictures of the two of them together for obvious reasons, but really they weren’t much different from any other couple.”

  “That’s fascinating, but I’m a little distracted by my dying friend here. Are you going to be able to help him?” The words came out harsher than intended. Pushing the wheelbarrow was easier than carrying Chase, but it was still a hell of a lot of work. The wooden handles were slippery in my blood-soaked hands, and muscles running from my neck to my shoulders burned like they were about to snap in half.

  The healer didn’t even break stride. “Would I have told you to haul his carcass back here if I couldn’t fix him up for you?”

  It was a fair point. People in his line of business didn’t waste time helping patients who were beyond their care. There was no such thing as a Hippocratic oath in the world of arcane healers. While some were bound to their own code of ethics that meant helping everyone they could, most fell into the practical camp. There was no profit in letting people die while in their care. Few were willing to take the risk of a hopeless case.

  We soon entered a slightly larger section of cave. The healer muttered a few more words and more of the pale green rocks flared to life. I don’t know what I’d expected to see, but a medical grade plastic operating tent wasn’t it. A pristine hospital bed sat in the middle of the tent. Several metal racks of supplies and tools stood ready and waiting for a patient. The healer slipped his jacket from his shoulders, then traded it for a crisp white doctor’s coat.

  “Help me get him on the table,” the healer ordered.

  He held aside the tent flap so I could maneuver the wheelbarrow next to the bed. I gritted my teeth and slipped my hands under Chase’s arms, trying not to look directly at what I was pretty sure was the exposed bone beneath his cheek. It felt wrong to be hoisting him onto the table so roughly.

  “I’ve got a job for you,” the healer said. “Run back into town and pick me up a few supplies.”

  “I want to stay with him,” I said quickly. “I can help you here, or I can wait nearby. I don’t want to leave his side.”

  The healer stared at me, the corners of his mouth slipping into a frown. “You want your friend to live?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then go into town and pick up the supplies I need.” He turned away from me as though the matter was settled. “I tucked the list under your windshield wiper.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but I knew it was useless to argue. It wasn’t worth the risk that this guy might let Chase die just to spite me. And given how much blood had pooled in the bottom of the wheelbarrow, Chase didn’t have much longer.

  “And take the wheelbarrow back out with you,” he called after me. “Your friend’ll be ready to walk out of here by the time you’re back.”

  Angry and frustrated, I grabbed the wheelbarrow and headed for the tunnel.

  Chapter Three

  The list of supplies turned out to be a grocery list. After skimming the first few items, I considered marching back into the healer’s cave to tell him which orifice he could shove the list into. Better yet, I could tear up the list and stick one in every available opening. Instead of letting my frustration get the better of me, I collected myself and yanked open the door to the driver’s seat. I was so distracted by anger and concern over Chase’s well-being, it wasn’t until I was half way into town that I realized I’d put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot without even thinking about it. The realization itself made me self-conscious enough to clench my hands on the wheel and tense my back and shoulders. Driving still terrified me, but out on the empty back road of such a small town, it really wasn’t as bad as I’d been making it out in my head after all these years.

  The drive away from the main road and out to the healer’s place had felt like an eternity with Chase slowly bleeding to death on the back seat, but now that he was hopefully in good hands, I was surprised at how quickly I reached the highway again. I wasn’t sure how many cops there were in the area, but I signalled my turn and carefully came to a full stop before turning right to find the grocery store. I couldn’t afford to be pulled over for something so stupid. I was pretty sure driving without a license wouldn’t land me in jail, but there was enough blood on the back seat to look pretty damn suspicious. Since I’d never been able to figure out any of the thought-manipulation spells a more practiced mage might use to stay out of trouble, I was going to have to keep my wits about me and avoid notice altogether. As far as anyone was concerned, I was just a regular tourist stopping to pick up some groceries on my way through town.

  A regular tourist whose clothing was soaked with blood.

  A glance in the rear-view mirror showed an almost unrecognizable reflection of a disaster victim. The bomb blast had sent tiny bits of shrapnel flying everywhere, leaving my face looking like it had been attacked by a dozen pissed off house cats. My hair was mussed up and littered with debris. The dark red blotches all over my clothing were a mixture of Chase’s blood and whatever else had seeped from the lacerations on my arms, torso, and legs. My knees and palms were scratched all to hell from crawling across the floor to get to Chase, and it was only after surveying the damage that the pain began to permeate my adrenaline-addled brain.

  Thankfully the parking lot was empty but for two other cars. Trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, I got out of the car and went to open the hatchback. It was warm enough I didn’t need a jacket, but I slipped on Chase’s large flannel to hide as much of the blood as possible. I then grabbed my backpack and made a beeline for the restrooms outside the gas station next door. My hands were shaking so badly, I fumbled the relatively simple unlocking spell several times. When I finally heard the telltale click of success, I hurried inside and yanked the door shut behind me. There was no deadbolt, and I was too burnt out to block the door with magic, so I worked quickly to wash as much of the blood and dirt from my face and hands as I could manage before stripping down and changing into clean clothes.

  I wasn’t much for makeup, but a few strategic dabs of concealer took down the worst of the angry red scratch marks peppering my face. It was far from perfect, but it would do the job for now. After collecting my bloody clothing and shoving it into my backpack, I did my best to wipe the counter down with massive handfuls of toilet paper. The paper was the worst kind of single ply that melted the second it came into contact with water, but
I eventually managed to get the sink clean enough that no one would be calling the police after seeing blood everywhere. With a final flush to dispose of the last batch of crimson-tinted paper, I left the bathroom and dropped my bag in the car. That taken care of, I snatched the grocery list off the passenger seat where I’d tossed it earlier.

  Thankfully it wasn’t a long list. I hurried into the small general store and began throwing items into a cart. Pickles. Mayonnaise. Dryer sheets. Twenty tins of tuna. White bread. Bologna. Instant coffee. Four bottles of rye whiskey. A case of fruit cocktail. On a whim, I grabbed one of the rough woolen blankets stacked on a shelf along with a meager selection of tools and clothing designed for loggers or hunters. At the checkout, I also snatched up several chocolate bars and a large bag of candy.

  “This all for you?” the guy at the checkout asked me when I rolled up to pay.

  “I’m legal age,” I told him, preparing to fish my ID out of my wallet to prove I was old enough to buy the whiskey.

  “Nah, it’s not that,” he said as he swiped the items across the scanner. “Just looks a lot like what Mr. Slaski buys every week.”

  “Um, yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “I’m staying out there for a couple days. Kind of an Airbnb thing. I had to run into town for gas, so I offered to grab him some supplies.”

  The guy hesitated, mayo container poised over the scanner and looking at me like I’d told him I was camping with a family of grizzly bears. He shook his head and swiped the jar across the scanner with a bleep. “Mr. Slaski’s renting his place out now? That don’t sound much like him.”

  This lie was getting me in far more trouble than it was worth. It’s not a skill I’d put at the top of a resume, but I was normally better at this kind of thing.

  “Kind of a long story,” I said. “Old family friend was passing through here last year and bumped into Mr. Slaski. One thing leads to another, and I’m setting up my tent on his property for free on the way through town so I can save a couple bucks.”

  The look I got from the cashier was that he wouldn’t stay out there even if he was paid to do it, but whatever he thought about it, he didn’t say another word other than to tell me how much I owed him for the groceries. I grabbed one of the chocolate bars from the bag, tore the wrapper open with my mouth, and practically inhaled the thing while the cashier continued staring at me.

  “High metabolism,” I mumbled around the last mouthful of chocolate and nougat.

  Once Slaski’s groceries were stowed in the back of the car, I draped the blanket across the back seat to cover up as much of the blood stains as possible. I’d be able to clean the fabric once I recovered enough to cast spells without feeling like I was going to pass out, but at this rate, I didn’t see that happening until we were back home again. Before we could do that, we still had to figure out who was behind the altar and the voodoo doll. Given the lengths they’d gone through to prevent us from getting to the doll in the first place, I didn’t anticipate a non-violent resolution to the job. Until then, I’d save every bit of magic I could.

  There was still half a tank of gas in the car, but after what I’d told the cashier, I figured it was best to keep up appearances. Twisting back and forth to check my mirrors and try to look out the back window, I very slowly inched out of the parking spot. The car lurched awkwardly when I touched the gas a little too hard again. Cringing, I reached over to the passenger seat to grab the bag of sour candies I’d bought. I upended the package over my mouth and poured so many of the little sugar bombs into my gullet I could hardly breathe let alone chew. Sugar burned through my bloodstream. Junk food was only a temporary fix at best, but it went a long way towards taking my mind off the burning emptiness in the pit of my stomach. My magic required considerable rest and more nutritious calories in order to replenish itself, but I felt the needle of my internal gas gauge at least tip back into the red again instead of burning fumes.

  Speaking of gas, I still had to get over to the gas station. Able to focus a little more clearly, I eased up on the brake and let the car roll forward a bit. With agonizing slowness, I crossed parking lots and pulled up next to one of the gas pumps.

  “Shit,” I muttered when I got out and saw what I’d done.

  I was floating so far away from the pump another car could probably have pulled in there. Worse, the gas tank was on the other side of the car.

  “Need a hand there ma’am?” asked a greasy looking guy in coveralls with the name Gus stitched into the chest.

  “Um, yeah maybe,” I said. “I borrowed my friend’s car, and I don’t really drive much.”

  The corner of Gus's mouth turned up in a sarcastic smile. “Ya don’t say?”

  He walked around the car and went to one of the pumps on the other side of the car. I’d parked so far away from the row of pumps I’d been aiming for that I actually wasn’t that far off from the next row over. It wasn’t even a stretch when Gus lifted the nozzle and brought it to the car.

  “You wanna hit the flap for me?” he asked before ejecting a dark brown stream of spit from the side of his mouth.

  “Right.” I opened the door and looked down at the steering wheel. I was pretty sure I knew what most of the buttons did, but I had no idea which one opened the gas tank.

  “Down by the seat.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said a little defensively while reaching down and pushing on the button marked with a gas pump icon. When it didn’t budge, I tried lifting it up instead.

  “Full tank?”

  I nodded and fidgeted with my keys. Getting cleaned up and changed had taken a while, so I’d been gone for nearly an hour. All I could think about was Chase’s limp body lying on an operating table while a healer I didn’t know worked on him. I owed it to him to be by his side when he woke. Trading favors was standard fare for fae and magic practitioners, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed being sent on a grocery run while my best friend’s life was on the line.

  “Saw you come down off Rockcliffe Road there,” Gus said without taking his eyes off the scrolling numbers on the gas pump. “Not many tourists go up that way.”

  I recounted the story I’d made up for the cashier at the grocery store. It sounded even stupider the second time around, but it wasn’t worth trying to make up something new. For all I knew, these two were BFFs who’d gossip about the weird out-of-town girl the second I drove off.

  Gus turned to look at me, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Old Mr. Slaski makin’ friends? I’ve only lived here a few months, but I didn’t figure him for the kind to go inviting guests to stay anywhere near his property. Guess even that old coot has a soft spot for a pretty face.”

  Even though I felt like hot garbage, I flashed the biggest smile I could manage. “Guess my boyfriend and I are just too charming to resist.”

  Gus chuckled and turned back to the pump. The numbers finally stopped rolling over, and I quickly fished a few bills out of my pocket so I could pay him and get out of there.

  “Keep the change,” I said as I handed the cash over.

  Gus tipped his cap in a slightly mocking salute. “Y’all have a nice visit.”

  He then shoved his hands into his coverall pockets and stood there watching while I pulled out. I was so unnerved by the guy, I wasted what little energy I had by burning a very mild focus spell that allowed me to drive out of the gas station and turn off on the road leading up to Slaski’s place without crashing. It was only when the main drag was well out of view in my rear-view mirror that I let the spell fade and went back to driving in my usual anxiety-riddled state of panic. It was a little easier out in the middle of nowhere. There were no traffic lights, cyclists, or pedestrians to worry about. I hadn’t even seen another car on the road. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was driving back out to the cave where Chase was hopefully being brought back from the edge of death, it might almost have been enjoyable.

  After parking the car in front of Slaski’s trailer, I jumped out and ran to the mouth of the cave
. My heart beat fiercely in my chest as I rounded the last bend and entered the hidden medical clinic. The heavy plastic curtains surrounding the operating table reduced everything on the other side to indistinct blobs, but I could easily make out Chase sitting upright with his legs dangling off the edge of the table. Instead of calming, my heart raced with joy and relief. At least until I swept aside the curtain and saw Chase’s ghostly pallor. His listless eyes stared at the wall. He didn’t so much as turn his head to acknowledge me.

  “It’s time for you and I to have a little talk,” Slaski said, his statement punctuated by the snap of a surgical glove he’d peeled free of his hand. “There’s a job I need you to do. If you want your friend here to survive the next few days, I strongly suggest you check your anger and listen to my proposal.”

  Chapter Four

  A dozen spells sprung to mind in an instant. Though it would cost me, I could vaporize this gnomish sack of garbage before he could take half a step toward escape. A younger rage-driven version of me might have indulged in exactly that, but I’d learned a few painful lessons over the years. One of the big ones was that people who knew I was a mage didn’t fuck with me unless they believed they had very real leverage. Slaski had technically healed Chase, but it was easy to see that he’d left him in a pretty bad state. I unclenched my fists and inhaled sharply through my nose before letting out a long slow breath through my mouth. Calm and rational thought was the order of the day. I had to stay collected and unclouded by anger if I was going to get Chase out of this situation.

  “Good,” Slaski said with a smug smile. “I see we’ll be able to discuss this in reasonable terms. I do so abhor violence… especially when it’s directed my way.”

  “What have you done to Chase?” I asked.

  Chase blinked at the mention of his name. His lips moved slowly a moment before he managed to produce any sound. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”