Bookworm (14 page)

Daria’s small desk was littered with cosmetic equipment, some bought from her workplace and others created by herself. She
did
have skills that Elaine lacked, particularly when it came to producing potions like the Modest Maiden and the Centaur’s Friend. The former was used to prevent unwanted pregnancy while the latter prolonged orgasm in men, making it the most popular potion in the world. And yet Elaine had never been able to brew it properly herself. Maybe she should try using her newly acquired knowledge. Potion-making was as much a magical art as transfiguration and teleport gems, but it needed patience and skill rather more than anything else. Elaine had had neither.

She glanced over towards the window and blushed again when she saw Daria’s collection of underwear. How anyone could wear so many different designs was beyond her, although she had to admit that it made sense when someone was intent on losing the outer layer of clothing as quickly as possible. Daria
had
offered her some of the finest underwear in her collection, but Elaine had drawn the line at silken wraps no one else would be able to see. Her friend had pointed out that having hidden secrets could be quite entertaining, but Elaine had thought that that was a step too far. Besides, no one would
know
what she was wearing under her dress.

Shaking her head, she looked down and saw a sealed chest poking out from under the racks of clothing. She hadn’t known that Daria had such a chest; she certainly hadn’t seen it when they’d moved into the apartment together. But then, she spent so much time at the Great Library that Daria could have moved almost anything in without Elaine realising what had happened. The chests had a reputation for being almost impregnable, unless one was powerful enough to break the seals directly...which would make it obvious that someone
had
managed to break into the chest. And yet the reputation was rather undeserved. A spell floating at the top of Elaine’s mind promised her the ability to open and close the chest without being detected.

She knelt down, touched the jewelled clasp holding the chest closed, and muttered the spell, not quite sure of what she was doing. It opened automatically, revealing a pair of books in a language Elaine didn’t understand – it looked to be the language of the Travellers – and a single silver amulet. Elaine stared at it in disbelief. The amulet had been created for one purpose and one purpose only. It allowed a werewolf to control the transformation from man to beast without being overruled by the animal instincts of the werewolf mind.

Elaine reached out for it and caught herself just before she touched the cursed object. No one knew exactly where the werewolf curse had begun, but it had been devastating before counter-potions and wards designed to keep out werewolves had been developed and rushed into mass production by the Grand Sorcerer. Werewolves had little place in human society; some served as bodyguards or criminals, but most of them preferred to remain in the forests and slip back down into animal habits. A bite from a werewolf, if not treated rapidly, would turn the victim into a werewolf himself. Or herself...

She remembered the growl she’d heard just after she’d fled the scene of Millicent’s transformation and cursed under her breath. Millicent had hinted at Daria having a secret, a secret her friend had been reluctant to talk about. But she’d tracked Elaine down even against the distorting magic of the Blight, moving with a speed that should have been impossible for a human female. A werewolf, on the other hand, could have tracked someone right across the city in wolf form. And provided that no one saw her transform, no one would realise that the massive black dog running down the streets was anything other than a stray from the great houses.

Elaine found herself shaking as she closed the chest and sat back down on the stool. She’d never been scared of Daria, but then she’d never realised that her best friend was a werewolf. And Daria would know that Elaine had figured out her secret the moment she smelled Elaine’s scent on the chest. At least she hadn’t touched the amulet directly...working quickly, she pulled the chest out and stood on it to examine the clothes on the rack. There would be an excuse, of sorts, for her scent on the box.

The door opened and Daria came back into the room. “Are you all right?” she asked, seriously. Of course...a werewolf in human form would still have a far more developed sense of smell than any normal human, no matter how magically enhanced. Daria could pick up on her mood with a quick sniff. “You look a little flushed. And I told you to sit down.”

“I had my doubts about the dress,” Elaine said, finally. It was partly true, after all. “Maybe I should wear something in black after all.”

“This isn’t a funeral and you’re not going to show off your powers,” Daria said, dryly. “You should wear something striking...don’t worry, I was nervous with my first guy too. And that...well, it didn’t turn out to be as good as I might have hoped.”

Elaine laughed, despite herself. “What happened?”

“He was too nervous himself,” Daria said. “You want to hear a secret?” Elaine nodded, thoughtfully. “Guys are just as nervous as girls when it comes to dating and having sex; they can make a mess of it just as easily as a girl can. And yet very few of them will ever admit it. It’s all about being the seductive charmer, the rogue who makes girls blush and grow horny and come out to play with them...they always lie to each other about the girls they’ve had and the girls they intend to have in the future. You can never believe anything a guy tells you about his past experience with girls. I’ve seen guys who were complete virgins boasting about the girls he’s enjoyed back home.”

Elaine nodded, slowly. Daria would know, of course, if a guy was trying to lie to her. She could smell him and know when he was being untruthful, or at least when he
knew
he was being untruthful. Most girls didn’t really have that advantage...she looked over at Daria, remembering what she’d said about the Travelling Folk. Were they all werewolves, forced to wander from state to state because few places would take them in permanently? Or was Daria merely the victim of another werewolf during a brief stop in a forest? There was no way to know, short of asking her, and it was the one question she couldn’t ask her friend.

“This may not work out,” Daria said, more seriously. “Some guys who are nice are also complete bores. But consider it experience...and you never know. Bee might be your one true love, if you’re willing to go back to the Southern Continent with him.”

Elaine flushed. It hadn’t occurred to her, but Daria was right. If she did become Bee’s girlfriend, as strange as the whole idea felt to her, what would happen when he wanted to go home? Would she follow him, or would she break off their relationship because she didn’t want to leave the Great Library. Except there was something to be said for going away from the Library now. The longer she remained in the Golden City, the greater the chance that someone would work out what had happened to her and drag her before the Inquisitors.

“On the other hand, you
could
use it as a chance to experiment without consequences,” Daria added. She picked up the bottle of Modest Maiden and passed it over to her. “Take one sip now and another afterwards if you actually do decide to go all the way with him. And relax! This is meant to be a fun evening out for you!”

“Yes, boss,” Elaine said. Daria laughed at her. “I’ll do my best.”

“And just relax,” Daria insisted. “Nerves will ruin this evening far more than anything else, my dear. Relax!”

Chapter Twelve

“I reserved a table for us at the Darlington,” Bee said, as they walked down the streets. Elaine wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t bought a carriage. Outside the nobility, few people could use one to get from place to place quickly through the crowded streets. “I hope that that meets with your approval?”

Elaine hesitated, and then nodded. The Darlington was
expensive
, suggesting that Bee had plenty of money – or a complete lack of concern about where the next few hundred Crowns were going to come from. But she’d never been on a real date before, so she wouldn’t have minded if it had been a simple eatery and maybe some dancing afterwards. Daria’s only word of caution had been not to go back to the guy’s apartment – or hotel room – unless she really did want to go all the way. Guys couldn’t be relied upon to be sensible when sex was concerned.

“I’ve never been before,” she said, truthfully. “Do you know what they’re showing tonight?”

“Apparently a set of tribal dancers from the western islands,” Bee said, as they turned the corner and walked up into the outskirts of High Tory. Elaine had thought that Daria had overdressed her, but judging from some of the women walking beside their men it was clear that she was actually rather underdressed for the night. There was a woman wearing a garment made of magic alone, clinging to her curves and revealing just enough to make the men stare in the hope that it would reveal more. “I’ve never been there before either.”

The Darlington was a large blocky building on the edge of High Tory, where the nobility blurred into the wealthy merchants who paid most of the city’s taxes. Elaine had heard, from Daria, that some of the Councillors were actually pressing for a greater share in the city’s affairs seeing that they paid for most of them, something that the next Grand Sorcerer would have to resolve somehow. Ruling in favour of one side would only irritate the other, who might then start trying to find a way to roll back the decision. It was a responsibility she was glad she didn’t have to endure.

A small crew of security personnel, wearing the formal outfits handed out by the club’s owners, were checking tickets as the crowds walked into the building. Elaine’s unwanted knowledge pointed out that there were a dozen ways to subvert the system and avoid the embarrassment of being asked to leave, but she did her best to ignore it as Bee produced a pair of golden tickets from his pocket. She was tempted to ask just how much he’d spent on the tickets, but she couldn’t find the words to ask. He might find the question offensive.

The guard took the tickets, passed his wand over them and then handed them back to Bee. “You’re on the ground floor,” he grunted. “Walk inside and down the stairs.”

“Thank you,” Bee said, politely. Elaine clung onto his arm as they stepped inside. She’d never really liked crowds and the Darlington was heaving with the great and the good – and the wealthy. She caught sight of a Councillor she vaguely recognised with his hand around the shoulder of a girl who was wearing a white dress that left little to the imagination, before the press of the crowds separated them. Down the stairs, the confined corridor suddenly opened up into a vast arena built under the city. At least this one didn’t feel to be a pocket dimension held open by formidable spells.

The vast floor was littered with tables, each one illuminated by a set of burning candles and marked with a single golden number. Bee glanced at the tickets and then started to push his way towards a table at the rear, half-hidden in shadow as some of the light orbs hovering high overhead started to go out. Their table was set up for only two people, much to Elaine’s relief; the moment they sat down, the golden number winked out of existence. She had expected to discover that the candles were magical too, but they were real. The Darlington spared no expense to create a luxurious welcome for its guests.

A young woman wearing a simple black dress passed them the menus and vanished into the crowd. Elaine looked down at it, flicking through the different pages and rolling her eyes at the cost. The meals produced by the Darlington could be had cheaper almost anywhere else, even though Bee had probably already paid for their meals. Bee pulled a strip of paper out from under the candles and started to make notes on it, trying to decide what to order. Some of the food would probably be unfamiliar to him if he’d spent all of his life in the Southern Continent, even though the Empire had worked hard to spread its ideals across the world.

Bee looked up at her. “Do you want me to order for you?”

“I’d like the steak,” Elaine said. Daria would have
loved
the steak. Werewolves ate more meat than any normal human...how had she missed
that
little clue? In hindsight, it should have been obvious. “And what should we drink?”

Daria had advised her to stay away from alcohol. “Maybe an iced lime water,” Bee said, seriously. Perhaps he’d had the same advice from someone else. “Do you want the carrot soup first, or just the steak? It’s all already paid for.”

He was so earnest that Elaine found herself flushing. “The soup first, then,” she said, as the lights started to go out completely. The stage was illuminated by a glow that seemed to come from all around it. “And then the steak.”

The waitress came back and collected the sheet of paper as the dancers came out onto the stage. Elaine stared with genuine interest; the men wore nothing more than loincloths, while the women wore short traditional dresses covered in sequins. It would have embarrassed Elaine to show off so much of her legs in public, but the dancers didn’t seem to mind. They bowed to the audience and then started to move in time to a drumbeat that also seemed to come out of nowhere. It wasn’t the kind of dancing Elaine had enjoyed herself, before Millicent had suffered her little accident, but something more complex and elegant. The male and female dancers never seemed to touch one another as they moved around the stage in a stately dance.

Elaine clapped as loudly as anyone else as the first dance came to an end, followed by a second dance performed by the men only. It was a strange dance, showing off their finely-toned bodies and the primitive weapons they carried in their hands, but Elaine found it almost impossible to take her eyes off them. The knowledge in her mind whispered that the tribes on the western islands hadn’t been discovered until after the end of the Second Necromantic War and their magic had never been as formal, or precisely delineated, as the magic controlled by the Grand Sorcerer. They’d considered themselves to live in harmony with the surrounding region, sharing themselves with the wild magic of nature. Whatever the truth behind it, Elaine was surprised to find herself reacting in a very primal manner to the dance. She had to swallow hard to cover her distraction, or the sensations as her nipples hardened and pressed against the dress.