Lost at Sea Bk. 02 Ch. 09

"I should have let him keep it. It didn't have much in it. Just some spending money. Probably less than your rates," Will shrugged. The attractive doctor was leaning forward over the sink and from the angle Will could see right down the front of her oversized coat. Her dark breasts were flawless. Full and round and high on her chest. He looked away again. He could feel his curse making the room feel tilted. He couldn't decide if this was bad luck or good.

"Not a fan of blood, you?" she asked, sounding somewhat amused as he turned away.

"Mmm, no. It makes me feel a bit woozy," he lied.

"The cut is very clean. Deep too, but I think we can do without stitches if we treat it right. This will not take long." The doctor replaced the cloth and had him hold the pressure on, then got up and started rifling through drawers and cabinets. Will watched her work. She clearly wasn't familiar with where things were and she was muttering to herself about it in the Nivalese language. He knew enough to make out the word "papa" and a few curse words. When she was done she came back with a metal tin full of bandages, tools, and a two small earthenware jars.

"Friday!" a booming voice called from somewhere in the house. "Friday, where ya get off to, girl!?"

"I, me," the doctor sighed, putting the tin of medical supplies into Will's lap. "Stay put."

She went to the rear door of the room and shouted into the hall. "In here, Papa! I have a patient!" She came back to the stool and started cleaning away the blood from the wound. When she was done she opened one of the jars and wiped a thick, golden resin that smelled of honey and citrus into the wound. It stung slightly, but the sensation quickly faded. She wiped away the excess and opened the other jar. This one had a dark paste. She dabbed it onto either side of the wound in small dots.

A tall, lanky man with dark skin, a gaunt face and broad shoulders came through the door. His outfit looked a lot like the doctor's, but in black. He wore no shirt beneath his dress jacket, showing off the skeletal makeup painted on his skin. His face and head were cleanly shaved, but his eyebrows were streaked through with grey. He held a cane by the middle in one hand, a top hat sitting on it.

"Friday, ya need ta go," the tall man said in a thick Nivalese accent. He gave Will a quick glance and then did a double take his grim face going quite a bit grimmer. "No Binding 'ere, Friday! Not tonight! Told you, I-"

Doctor kalfou shifted, showing the tall man the wound she was dressing. "Does this look like a Binding to you?"

The tall man's brows knitted. "Who is he?"

The Doctor gave will a glance and shrug. It occurred to him that he never did introduce himself. "Will Sterling," he said. "I cut my hand." Doctor Kalfou kept working. She had narrow strips of linen than was carefully dabbing it into the dots of goo. She kept it in place and it held, the dab of goo holding fast. Then she tugged the linen strip across to the next dab and attached it there, pulling the skin tightly closed. "Are you the doctor?" he asked, not sure of what else to say.

"Doctor Sam," the tall man said introducing himself brusquely. "Ya want ta tell me why you're Bound up tighter than a Inquisitor's corset, Mista Will Stirling?"

"What?" Will asked.

"Don't pretend ya don' now," the looming doctor said with a questioning glare. "Ya got a spell on ya! Strong! I can't even see ya beneath it."

"What?" the Doctor Kalfou said, sliding back from Will and looking back and forth between him and Doctor Sam.

"Friday, ya got ta go. Now." His eyes made it clear that he wanted to say more but was being guarded in front of Will.

"As soon as I'm done here, I will. I don't know where you want me to go though, the ship I found doesn't leave until tomorrow morning," Doctor Kalfou said, clearly exasperated.

"Uh, I don't want to get in the middle of this, but what does all this have to do with my curse?" Will asked.

"You might want ta be makin' yourself scarce as well Will Sterling," Doctor Sam said. "The Magistrate be here tonight, and if ya think they just here ta put on skits and dole out charity, you're a fool."

"I saw them. They seemed like they were on pretty good behavior," Will shrugged. Something was nagging at him now that this man was talking about the Magistrate.

"How strong?" Doctor Kalfou asked her grandfather, gesturing ambiently towards Will.

"Strong," Doctor Sam emphasized. "Don't know that I've ever seen stronger."

"They'll think he's Loa," Kalfou said grimly. The tall man nodded grimly. "And they'll come right here," she continued. The tall man nodded again, more deeply. "Merde," she cursed. She quickly wrapped Will's hand.

"What's a Loa?" Will asked.

"A spirit. Strong magic. Like yours, but from inside." Doctor Kalfou tapped her chest. Will's eyes flicked down. She was moving quickly as she finished working on him. Interesting things were bouncing beneath her coat. Will looked up, trying to avoid distraction.

"You have to leave now, Will Sterling," the tall man said.

"What? Alright. How much do I owe you?" Will asked, standing up.

"Nothing," the two doctors said simultaneously.

A heavy knock echoed from the patient door.

"Merde!" Doctor Kalfou swore again.

"Go! Stall dem, I will." the tall man said quietly.

"But what if they see you?" the Doctor asked.

"Friday, this ain't tha' first time I tangle wit Magistrate," the tall man said. "They never catch I before."

"How about I stall them?" Will asked. "You can both go."

The pair looked at Will strangely. "You do not know we, why do this, you?" the tall man asked.

"They followed me here, right? They want me, they can have me. I've been through this with them before," Will shrugged. "You helped me. No reason you should be punished for that."

The pair looked at each other. Another knock pounded. A voice boomed from outside demanding entrance. Doctor Sam nodded. "A debt we owe you, Mista Will Sterling. Go." He turned back out the way he came without another word.

Doctor Kalfou hesitated a moment, then impulsively leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You don't know why this is important, but it is. Thank you."

"Seems like it was my fault anyway. Just bad luck I guess," Will gave her a small shrug and picked up his cup. Doctor Kalfou followed her grandfather deeper into the house with a final glance behind her. Then she was gone. Will headed back to the door in the receiving room. The room felt like it was tilted. His curse was pulsing. It gave him an idea. He waited at the door for a moment and finished off his Sorrel wine, a small smile beginning to crawl across his face. Another heavy knock came. He yanked the door open. The man on the other side swung through air where the door was as his next knock missed.

"What?!" Will demanded, deliberately over-emphasizing and listing a bit. There was a Centurion standing there with a surprised, tense look on his face.

An actual, live Centurion. Will thought it was the same one he had seen earlier, but it was hard to tell. They wouldn't have brought two centurions here, would they? The legendary warrior was actually shorter than Will thought a Centurion would be, but something about the armor, the red cape, and the plumed helm made him seem larger than life. He had a pair of short swords sheathed on one hip, and the stock of some kind of firearm over his shoulder. The gauntlet on his left arm was thicker and heavier than the simple leather glove he wore on his right.

"We're here looking for-" the Centurion squinted at Will, suddenly seeming a bit confused. "You?"

"Look, I know I sholudn't'a done it, but I was bleeding all over the damn place," Will said holding up his bandaged hand. He squinted back blearily. "You don't look like the watch. You in costume too?"

The eyes behind the golden helm blinked."What? No, I am Hector, Magistrate Centurion, and I need you to-"

"An honest t' god fuckin' Centurion?" Will exclaimed with exaggerated exuberance, swatting the other man in his armored shoulder with his good hand. "Well damn! Good f'r you!" Then he shook his hand. "Ow. Tha's real armor."

He stumbled a bit, then caught himself on the railing. The Centurion helped right him. Will overcorrected and leaned on the armored man. "Sir, I-" the Centurion started, then turned away in disgust as the wine on Will's breath hit him in the face. The Centurion scowled and began to speak again but Will held up a finger, cutting him off.

Will abruptly turned around and carefully closed the door, checking it to make sure it was locked. The Centurion realized too late what he was doing and lunged, but the door was closed.

Will let himself be roughly shouldered to the side into the railing. "What the hell, man?'

"What did you do that for?" the Centurion asked angrily.

"Well I didn't want t' leave th' doctor's door open! Someone might break in," Will shrugged. Then he half-walked down the stairs, half-slid down the railing leaving the fuming centurion in the doorway.

"Was there anyone else in there with you?" the Centurion asked.

"Fuck, I hope not," Will said.

"Why is that?" the Centurion demanded.

"B'cause I broke in!" Will said, then his eyes went wide. "I shuldn'ta said that."

The Centurion had clearly had enough of Will's antics. He grabbed him by the arm and hauled him though the exuberant crowd to a pair of Magistrate priestesses who were waiting across the street. One wore the white robes of the Order of the Chalice, the other wore the deep purple of the Order of the Hammer, both trimmed in gold. "Here. He's not what we expected, but I think this is the one you saw. Bind him. I'm going to look around the house." Then the warrior was gone.

The stern-faced women in purple untied a golden rope from around her waist. "Turn around."

"Look, I dinn't do nothin' wrong," Will said, putting his arms up and backing away. "Well, I mean, I guess I did, but it wasn't bad bad, y' know?"

"Turn around," the priestess repeated.

"Do you ladies even have jursidc- jurisic- jurd- Are you even in charge here? How about we call the local Watch?" They tried to hem him in from either side, but he moved into the crowd a bit more. They tried to flank him.

He took off running.

The two priestesses gave chase. They ducked through the crowd, past revelers and elaborate floats and costumes. Will shouted for help and began drawing eyes, but mostly the crowd seemed amused. People pointed and laughed. The priestesses were surprisingly nimble and worked together to cut off easy directions to run. Will was forced to get creative. As he passed the Traveler's stage and was about to be halted by the density of the crowd, he planted his hand and vaulted up onto it, interrupting the actress telling a story to the crowd. Her eyes went wide as Will rushed by and dropped off the other side.

People were starting to follow to keep their eyes on the action. The priestesses were getting angry. Will saw the Centurion's armored head come out of an alley next to the house. As the warrior saw the chase Will caught his eyes for just long enough to see him scowl, and then Will ducked under the legs of a costumed stilt-walker. The performer shouted startled obscenities in Nivalese, but Will was gone. His three pursuers were closing. Will was starting to run out of breath. He hadn't had to do much sprinting in the last few years, and while he hadn't had nearly as much wine as he'd been pretending, two cups was still enough to make his stomach unhappy at the sudden exertion.

He didn't really want to escape anyway. Mostly he just wanted to waste time and draw a crowd. So he made a show of being winded and doubled back into the crowd he'd just passed through. The priestess in purple seemed to come out of nowhere and reach for him, but he saw her in time to duck away between two amused people in evil looking skeleton costumes.

"Stop," one of the priestesses said, her voice a whisper. Nine people near her suddenly locked up, including Will. A spike of instinctive panic went through him as his body stopped mid stride. His momentum continued though. He fell over hard, skidding to a stop on the ground. Three others fell too, but they hadn't been running. The rest just stood there, shock in their paralyzed faces. The woman pounced, quickly roping his arms and pulling them back as the magic-induced seizure ended. The priestess in white and the Centurion quickly joined her.

"I didn't do nothin'!" Will shouted. "Help!"

The crowd was paying attention by now. The noise had dimed quite a bit. Hundreds of faces were turned towards the commotion.

"What did he do?" Someone in the crowd asked the priestesses.

"That is none of your concern," the Hammer priestess snapped, tying Will tighter.

"You don't have any authority here," someone else said.

"This man is not what he seems, he is dangerous," the Chalice priestess said, trying to control the situation.

"They think I'm a Loa!" Will shouted. He didn't know what the word meant, but he was betting some of the crowd did.

It was like he'd walked over everyone's graves. The silence spread. The music nearby died. The crowd's energy turned.

"Let him go," someone said with calm hostility.

"You do not understand, he is not human," the angrier priestess snapped. "He is in disguise! Revelate!"

A tension, like the air before a thunderstorm when the pressure finally dropped, rippled out from her voice. It felt like something inside him gently pushing against his heart. He began to glow. Head to toe, a latticework of golden energy wrapped him, like a net made out of slowly rippling strands of runic script. His eyes went wide as he realized what it was he was seeing. This was his curse. This priestess had made it visible somehow.

"Look!" the Chalice priestess pointed. "He isn't like..." her words died on her lips as she stared into the crowd. Her expression changed from frustration to horror.

The crowd was glowing too.

It mostly seemed to be the body paint they wore, but a few of them were lit up with a glowing lattice of mystic energy. None were as tightly woven, intricate, or bright as Will's, but the similarities were unmistakable.

Two things occurred to Will at the same time. One, these were not normal Magistrate priestesses. They were powerful. It made sense if they were traveling with a Centurion and hunting down... whatever Loa were. Two, the crowd didn't seem surprised by any of this.

"You need to leave," an older woman wearing glowing paint said firmly.

The pair of priestesses were clearly shocked by what they were seeing. The Chalice priestess held up a silver hoop and spoke. "Ward." A ring formed around the pair, and around Will. The other pulled the rope that bound his arms. He resisted, but the rope felt like steel. It didn't give. It didn't even move. To him it was solid and stationary. The priestess could move the rope easily, but he couldn't move it at all.

The crowd began to close in, but the pair of priestesses continued pulling him backwards toward the Magistrate stage. The Centurion whispered something under his breath and a field of energy expanded from his heavy left gauntlet. When the field stopped growing it looked like a Magistrate shield, a large rectangle with a curved face, but it was transparent save for it's simmering edges. The Centurion backed up with the priestesses, keeping Will behind him.

A massive gout of fire suddenly erupted into the air, accompanied with a muffled crack. The crowd started and pulled back from the source of the flames revealing Jack holding her thick three-barreled gun in the air. Lace and Quinn flanked her. Jack leveled her weapon at the Centurion.

"Let him go."