The Fixer Of God's Ways (retail) (9 page)

Her
idea was brilliant, but required a partner in crime. Ms. Fiberti demanded a fee for her help: the thirty-year-old girl wanted to join my quest, bored to death by her normal life. I honestly tried to talk her out of it.

"
It'll be deadly dangerous. No romance whatsoever. We can be beaten, poisoned, or cursed to death. And Coordinator Larkes will be unhappy with you, when he realizes that you helped me cheat him. NZAMIPS won't let me or you live a normal life. I suffer for the sake of my family. Why do you want trouble?"

"
Thomas," she took off her glasses in excitement, "my life is empty. With you, I'll have adventure!"

I
could guarantee her adventures, for sure. "Clara, I won't be able to protect you, at least, not at all times."

"
I understand."

Shit!
I would have to chase artisans with a romantic fool on my hands. On the other side, I needed a passport. And a reliable aide. A white, traveling alone, would attract too much attention…

Well, she asked for it;
no one pulled her ears.

The following
day I relaxed, recovering from the stress of the previous week. Clara Fiberti worked on my image. She was more skillful in hair coloring than Polack, and my hair became light brown. I posed myself as an overage dunderhead, living under the care of his aunt and not even thinking about rebelling against her will (not a rare situation in white families).

I
received a new passport without difficult questions to answer. I felt that even if I didn't show the old document, the city officials would issue a replacement, believing my word. On the other side, their trust seemed to be justified: for the white, any contact with bureaucracy was a huge stress. So, if the rules were tightened, Ingernika would be filled with fools unable to adjust to the realities of life.

Clara
packed up our stuff for traveling. I was glad that I passed my domestic problems onto someone else's shoulders.

"
By the way, Thomas," she said as she loudly snapped the suitcase locks, "where are we going to?"

I
had already pondered over this question. If I had said that I was driven by revenge, she could've been offended to the core. I had to come up with something so fantastic that any action would be justified by this goal. I took a deep breath, "Have you ever heard about the World Axis?"

* * *

Johan requested a replacement of his passport, destroyed in an explosion, a week after the incident. He reasoned that this time was more than enough for Thomas to reach Redstone, and by now the young magician had already given up his masquerade.

A
short man waited for him at the passport office's exit. "Lost your documents?" Larkes had a mawkish smile on his face.

Johan nodded shyly. The presence of
the dark mage made him terribly nervous.

"
How did you manage to lose your passport here and in Redstone at the same time?"

The w
hite staggered.

"
Don't faint, for God's sake! Follow me."

"
What are you going to do with me?"

Larke
s' smile turned maniacal, "With you - nothing."

There a
re plenty of popular myths about magic and magicians, but only one was discussed with equal enthusiasm by venerable professors and students of elementary schools: the legend of the World Axis. According to legend, the World Axis was a place where people could obtain unlimited magic power, where anyone could become God. The place was searched by every imaginable method: by decoding the verses of ancient prophets, dowsing, and whatnot. Though if you asked those dreamers whether they wanted to be white (that is, eternally suffering nerds) or dark (heartless bastards), they wouldn't have given a clear answer. From the point of view of a practicing magician, belief in the World Axis was totally idiotic.

My true goal
was more down to earth. Repeating the feats of NZAMIPS - chasing artisans around Ingernika for twenty years - wasn't in my plans. I pondered on the ancient artifact, the schemes of which Charak brought to me. What was so urgent about this thing that NZAMIPS wanted me to join their ranks immediately? Reasoning logically, I came to the conclusion that the artifact would be found soon. If I seized the rarity, artisans would come into my hot embrace. On the other hand, if the artifact had been easy to find, sectarians wouldn't have bothered with its rebuilding.

I
did not believe that
The Liturgy of the Light
could bring the end of the world. Charak mentioned White Halak as the place where the ritual was performed last. To find the mysterious artifact, I needed more information about it. The result of my thoughts was the decision to go to Ho-Carg; Hemalis would refer me to book dealers who specialized in forbidden literature on magic.

T
he transcontinental train was leaving Redstone at one p.m. I walked in the tracks of Fiberti, tightly clutching my bag to my chest, and tried to keep a relaxed, moronic face (Clara said if I frowned, any resemblance to a white would disappear).

The
train was about to depart. Literally two steps remained till we took longed-for shelter in a separate compartment, when we heard an enthusiastic scream behind our backs, "I know you!"

A
teenage girl in a dress of crazy colors with a dozen pony tails sticking out of her head in all directions (like a cactus) made her way to us through the crowd. I was figuring out what spells to throw at her, when she said, "You are Ms. Fiberti!"

Thank g
od, she didn't recognize me! My companion blushed from embarrassment: "Yes. Unfortunately, I do not know you…"

"I am
Nancy! I got your autograph at the gathering in Liden Hall!"

"Yes, of course
."

A
gentleman with a gold chain on his waistcoat appeared near the noisy girl. "Let me introduce my daughter and myself: I am Paul Dakker. My daughter Nancy. She is crazy about your book."

"
Yes, yes, yes!" his daughter was frolicking. "Are you traveling to gather material for a new book? Yes? Right? About the same dark magician?"

"Sure…
sure."

Something
told me that Fiberti's next book will be
A Brutal Murder on a Train.

"Is
he your assistant?"

"My nephew. W
e are going to Ho-Carg." Fiberti tried to seize the initiative, "Are you heading to the capital too?"

I wish she did not ask. The girl
broke into a long, indecipherable speech with a kaleidoscope of unfamiliar names, places, and circumstances. She talked about having a dog or buying a dog, or not a dog, but a rabbit, or not about buying, but viewing…The situation was saved by Mr. Dakker, who obviously was better accustomed to his daughter's behavior.

"We are going to the country fair
in Killem," he briefly explained.

Fortunately for
them, the successful merchant Dakker was stingy and bought his tickets in economy class, so he and his little daughter had to leave us - their carriage was further away, next to the heart of the locomotive. I bought seats in a compartment with two single suites, connected through an internal door - very convenient, though expensive. It wasn't about love of luxury: I didn't want to pose as a white twenty-four hours a day.

I flopped down on the sofa
in my suite; behind the wall Fiberti discussed something with the conductor. Late passengers shouted on the platform. The train startled, and its wheels began to tap out the familiar rhythm. I pulled myself together, and the meeting with Fiberti's fans seemed funny. It was high time to read the book about myself. What if Clara ridiculed me in it?

My companion knocked on the door
between our compartments, "I'm going to the restaurant car. Would you like me to bring something for you?"

For
a white mage, it would be normal to spend the whole trip locked up, but I wasn't going to follow my image so close. "No. I'm going with you."

How
could I foresee that Dakker would dine in the restaurant? I thought they would chew their homemade sandwiches up to Killem.

"Mi-i-i-i-ss
! Miss Fiberti!"

Perhaps
her mother was a circular saw. Her voice made my fingers itch to cast a fireball. Nancy loudly broadcast that a genius of literature was among them. A few passengers in the dining crowd were familiar with the book and supported Nancy's toast to the famous author. That was a huge mistake: they encouraged the girl to lecture the audience on the vitality of the characters in the novel. While I came there to eat!

A
table by the door was taken by an army mage; surely, he wanted to learn about the book with a dark mage as the main character. The last thing I needed was his attention - so I didn't take my eyes off my plate. Fiberti tried to find a way to politely silence the shrill girl, but to no avail.

The m
ost nervous passengers left their tables in a hurry; the more tolerant smiled furtively; the devoid of a sense of humor snorted angrily. Soon darling Nancy moved to the narration of the story plot…

A
gray-haired man, sitting with his back to us, protested first. "Enough!" he slammed his hand on the table. "I came here to eat and not to listen to this nonsense. You, my dear, are too gullible. A combat magician, helping people? This doesn't even count as a joke! The dark and the altruism are incompatible!"

The
girl was a fool, but why did he touch dark mages? I frowned, forgetting my role. Fiberti deftly kicked me under the table. I shouldn't react to this insult - I would unmask myself.

"
Why not? I personally knew one compassionate dark. My book is about him!" Clara replied, knowing that she spoke on my behalf. Whether I would keep myself in hand depended on her eloquence.

Everybody's
eyes turned to the army magician. The dark straightened up. He was drunk, and it could end in fist fighting.

"
Unlike you, lady, I knew a lot of dark," the gray-haired gentleman did not give up, but I was ready to forgive him for outvoicing Nancy. "You can't lure them out of home to do their job, if it's rainy and night-time. Only, perhaps, under the threat of death. There will be a thousand and one reasons why bad weather interferes with magic. The worse the weather, the more you will have to drive them out personally. And not less than five of them at once will be needed for any problem."

He was
right and wrong at the same time. Such behavior was typical for "cleaners" due to safety issues, not because of their laziness or lack of skill. The gray-haired disputant didn't try to draw a chalky pentagram in the rain and fight with the otherworldly without life insurance. Natural selection eliminated fools from our business at the stage of studentship! If it hadn't been my own life, I would've called the book idiotic, too.

"
As for his magic actions, I wouldn't judge their credibility. However, I am sure that half of his adventures simply could not happen…" The gray-haired made a mistake, appealing to the army mage.

The m
age, who had long forgotten about his burger, suddenly blossomed, "It surely could! Once I myself…"

A
nd he got carried away much more than poor Nancy. Lieutenant Traych was returning to Arango from his deserved vacation. He unleashed on unprepared passengers all the power of the army's folklore. In his stories, lightning flashed, the ground shook, victims cried out for help, ghouls got killed in bunches, malicious curses fell off as chaff. Even if we had halved all that the gallant lieutenant said, he would have deserved the highest honor award for rescuing the entirety of Ingernika at least five times. The revelations of the drunken magician smoothly switched to physiological details, and I needed to stop this. Otherwise, this bastard would cover with shame my Dark Knight character! I quietly stood up and approached his table.

"Sir,
may I have your autograph?"

The l
ieutenant puffed up with pride and left his signature on the back of the restaurant menu. He must have felt the dark Source in me, he had to; but he was too drunk to pay attention to the discrepancy between my clothing of a white mage and my dark core. However, something confused the lieutenant, because he stopped chattering and set off to his compartment with a bottle of port in hand.

Nancy
, with her mouth full of food, continued to devote her attention to all who were careless enough to meet her gaze. I mentally groaned, cursing the spoiled dinner. At that time, I didn't know what a great service the talkative girl provided to all of us by staying in the restaurant.

Clara and I
drew different conclusions from this incident.

"
I did not think that dark magicians were so sociable," said Fiberti.

"What
?"

"That
lieutenant."

I chuckled,
"Clara, the dark are truly not very sociable, but don't confuse it with bragging - we'll boast as much as others can tolerate. He just couldn't allow another magician to look better! I hope you did not believe him."

She smiled thinly,
"I thought he embellished his stories a little bit."

"What?
"

I
spent an hour spoiling the reputation of all army mages and Lt. Traych, in particular. I wanted her to know the truth about them! Clara got tired of giggling and scribbled notes at a breakneck pace, when a broad-shouldered policeman suddenly opened the compartment door.

"Show
your papers, please."

The t
emperature in the room dropped by twenty degrees at once, without any magic. I began tensely digging through my bag, wondering where I failed. Then I heard as the officer demanded documents from other people, too. Obviously, he did not come here for me!

I
calmly handed him my fake passport. He checked the seal, made some notes, and returned the document to me. From this point on, I became a criminal, because I presented myself to the authorities under the name of another person.

"May
I ask you what is happening, sir?" Clara got ahead of me with the same question.

The
policeman returned her passport and hesitated for a bit, deciding how frank he could be. "A crime's been committed on the train. We ask all passengers to stay in their compartments. You are not allowed to leave the train without notifying Inspector Graft. You can find him in the dining car."

When we were left alone,
Fiberti advised me, "Johan, you'd better stay in your compartment."

Yes, I kne
w, as a white I wasn't supposed to actively demonstrate my curiosity. "I won't," I promised.

There was no reason to go out of the compartment -
hardly anybody knew what happened. But by tomorrow rumors would spread, and we would learn all the details from the very same Nancy.