The Lost Mage (4 page)

“Ferocious.”

Yeah, that’s what I thought. But thanks for the help anyway.

Darakin gave the cat a reassuring squeeze. “Now to see about lodgings.”

That’s gonna be tough without some cash … methinks.

“Does my language sound that archaic?”

Ark what now?

“Archaic. Ancient. Out of use.”

Oh. Yep, yep and yep. All those things.

“I shall have to adapt my speech to match the patterns I hear locally then. You know, so I fit in.”

The cat pawed at Darakin’s long, silver hair.
Yeah, um blending? That’s probably not gonna happen.

“I have noticed that everybody’s hair seems different than mine. Does nobody here have silver hair?”

Well, the old people do. It’s a sign that they’re getting old.

“Ah, no that’s gray hair. My hair is silver and it’s the magic that causes it. When a child is born with silver hair, a family knows that they’ve been blessed with a mage. Anyway, I have an idea.” Without releasing the cat, he went back into the bar.

“Excuse me, Sean. You’ve been kind enough and I hate to impose any further, but you wouldn’t have a room or a place where I – and my friend – could find rest, would you? Just ‘til we find a place. We’re new here.”

Sean chuckled. “I’ve a soft spot for the fur balls myself.”

Hey, who are you calling a fur ball?
Mrowley asked in outrage.

Darakin gave the cat a warning squeeze.

“Vocal little thing, isn’t he?”

Little?
Mrowley shrieked.
Didn’t he see how big I looked outside with my fur up? You said I looked ferocious.

Darakin laughed nervously. “Yes. He does seem to like the sound of his own voice, I mean meow.”

Sean chuckled. “Okay, there’s a small room with a cot in the back. You can stay there until you get some money to find yourself someplace proper to stay.”

“Thank you again, Sean.”

Sean led him to the back and opened a door to reveal a tiny room with a cot and a small table. He flipped the light switch and Darakin jumped and looked around.

“It’s just the light, son,” Sean said with a laugh, thinking that it was the noisy hum of the fluorescent fixture that startled Darakin.

“Oh and the john is just around the corner.”

“Who?”

“Not who, what. The toilet.”

“Oh, the outhouse?”

Sean laughed. “We have indoor plumbing here, lad. There’s no peeing in the alleys. I’ll see ya later.” He left the room.

Once they were alone, Darakin put Mrowley down on the bed. “What’s wrong with you? He’s giving us a place to stay. And you
are
a fur ball.”

Yeah, well, you’re a … a … furless ball.

Darakin laughed and stroked the cat’s back. “Relax. Look – a soft,” he pushed on the rock-hard mattress, “well, a bed to sleep on, anyway. You stay here while I work. Unless you want to roam? I did promise I wouldn’t coop you up.”

Nah, I’ll stay in tonight. Been running around for a couple of days. I could use some shuteye.
The cat yawned to prove his point.

“Okay. I’ll try to get you something to eat, if I can.”

Mrowley lay across the length of the bed and stretched. Through a big yawn, he said, Y
eah sure, you know, if something comes your way. It’s been days since I’ve eaten.

“What about the mouse you had this morning?”

Was that this morning? It feels like it’s been days.

Darakin shook his head in confusion at the cat’s strange accounting of time. “In that case, you must be very hungry. I’ll see what I can do.”

The cat curled up into a ball on the bed and Darakin headed out to explore his new workplace, and more particularly, this toilet that Sean spoke of.

He turned the corner and saw two doors with crude pictures of people on them. He stood in the hallway, unsure what the pictures meant.

A patron from the bar passed by and entered one of the small rooms. Darakin caught a glance at the large room behind the door and followed the man in. Once inside, he stared at the tiled interior. Two stalls sat at the back of the room, with chamber pots mounted on platforms. Several porcelain fixtures lined the wall. Darakin hesitated, unsure of what to do.

He watched as the other man relieved himself.

“Dude, don’t stare at my junk.”

“Junk?” Darakin looked around the room in confusion.

“You know, my privates?”

Darakin said nothing, but watched in amazement as the young man went to the sink and washed his hands. The patron then pushed the button on the automatic hand dryer shaking his head as the confused mage jumped at the sound of the machine. The young man hurried out of the men’s room, rolling his eyes at Darakin.

When the door had closed, Darakin used the urinal as he had seen the young man do. He reached up and pressed the handle down, watching with fascination as it flushed.

Then he turned toward the sink. A sign on the wall read, “All employees must wash their hands before leaving.”

He reached out to touch the handle next to the faucet and pulled it forward slowly. Water started to trickle out. Fascinated, he held his hand under the stream.

“How can this be?” He whispered to the empty room.

After using the soap dispenser as he’d seen the other man do, he held his hands under the water again and jumped back as he got burned.

He looked at the red circle on the handle, then over at the other with its blue circle. He reached over and pulled the cold handle forward. Then he tested the tap water again, pleased to find it was a more manageable temperature.

Next, Darakin went to the hand dryer. Bracing himself, he pressed the button. Though he’d been expecting it, he still jumped when the air started blowing from the nozzle. He held his hands under it, amazed at how quickly they dried.

He almost bumped into Sean as he exited the room.

Sean looked at his face and laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone looking so shocked coming out of there. Is it a mess then?”

“No. It’s amazing!”

Sean laughed. “I’m not sure what that means. It’s pretty ordinary as far as bathrooms go. Anyway, I’ve brought a plate of milk for the wee furry one.”

“Why thank you! He’ll be pleased.”

Sean gave Darakin an odd look, “He will, will he?”

“Yes, this is exactly what he’s been looking to score since last night.”

“You’re an odd one, Darakin,” Sean shook his head and returned to the bar.

Darakin went back to the room and poked the sleeping cat. “I have scored you some milk, guy.”

Mrowley opened one eye and peeked. As he spied the plate of milk, he jumped up but quickly regained his composure.
Let me ask you something. Where you come from, is there any slang?

“Of course.”

Okay, and are there people that sometimes use slang but they don’t sound right and it kind of makes people laugh?

“Yes, but why are you asking me? Oh, you think I sound silly?”

Well, sort of.

“I am merely attempting to fit in with the locals. I shall continue to listen so I can use their slang more appropriately. Now enjoy your milk.”

Thanks, dude. I’ll be up in a moment.
The cat eyed the milk with hungry eyes but didn’t move.

“No need to be so cautious, cat. I know you want the milk. It’s actually a gift from Sean.” Seeing that the cat was still playing the aloof card, Darakin backed out of the room and left the cat to his milk.

Chapter Four

Darakin made his way back to the front of the pub. The smell of food was making him hungry, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in almost a day. Sean looked up and indicated that Darakin should sit at the end of the bar.

“You look a bit hungry, lad.”

“Well, it has been some time since I’ve eaten, but I have no gold.”

“Gold?” Sean blinked in surprise.

“Yes, you know, currency.”

“Oh, money! Well, that’s okay. Everyone who works here is entitled to a bit of food.” He looked across the room at the pretty barmaid and yelled, “A burger for our new friend, Nora.”

“Right away, Sean.”

Darakin noticed that Nora seemed to have the same accent as Sean. He turned back to the bartender. “You and she hail from the same land?”

“Hail? Yes, we’re both Irish. Where are you from, lad? I can’t place your accent.”

“I’m from the Land of the Kwagl.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“I’m guessing that English isn’t your first language.”

Darakin laughed. “No, it’s not. I’ve been told that my speech is rather odd.”