The Sports Captain's Tale полностью

Mildred stayed close to me as we walked down the road to Dragon’s Den. Night was already falling, but the town was surprisingly and brightly lit. I saw small groups of teenage students lining up outside the shops, bars, and brothels, the latter trying to hide under obscurification spells even though everyone already knew who – or at least what – they were; I spotted guardsmen keeping a wary eye on things from a distance, unwilling to intervene unless something got really out of hand. I winced inwardly. I’d considered the guard as a career, before I’d come into my magic, only to have Dad tell me it was a bad idea. For once, my old man probably had a point.

“It’s loud,” Mildred muttered, as we stepped into the pub. No one had waited for us before getting the party started. “Does it have to be so loud?”

I shrugged. The noise – one would have to be very charitable indeed to call it singing – was loud, but it could be worse. I’d attended matches where rival teams of supporters had sung their songs at the top of their lungs, each one trying to drown out the other by creating a discordant racket that had often led to fights. It wasn’t helped by someone having set up an outline of the match on the big board, triggering off arguments over whether or not we’d cheated and, if we had, who’d really won the match. I heard someone loudly insisting I had cheated and another denying it, the argument turning rapidly into a fistfight that drew in others who just wanted a fight. A handful of beer maidens carried their trays through the room, faces fixed in unconvincing smiles. I shook my head politely as they offered me beer. I needed to keep a clear head.

Mildred stayed close to me as I ordered a couple of orange juices. It felt as if everyone was coming up to me, slapping me on the back – perhaps a little harder than necessary – and congratulating me on my great victory. They made it sound as if I’d done it all on my lonesome. I hoped the others weren’t too annoyed, if they heard it. Karen and Bill were dancing on the far side of the bar, while Mark and James were drinking beer and Jerry was heading off with one of the beer maidens. I hoped he remembered his protective spells. He was too young to have children. So was she.

The racket grew louder. Someone took her top off and started to dance on the counter. Her boyfriend tried to grab her, only to be dragged down by two more. Darrell knocked their heads together, hard, then helped her friend off the bar and out the far door. I hoped she was just drunk, rather than under someone’s spell. Grandmaster Gordian might take a more relaxed attitude to drinking than his predecessor, but there were limits. If she’d been enchanted, the caster would be in deep shit. If he was caught … I looked around for Blair – it was his sort of assholery – but there was no sign of him. Who knew? Perhaps he’d gone to bed with one of the waitresses too.

Poor girl, I thought, nastily. She must really need the money.

“This is just too loud,” Mildred said. She looked as out of place as … well, something very out of place indeed. “I need to go catch my breath.”

“Go outside,” I said, pointing to the far door. “Take a breath and then come back in.”

Mildred left. I turned back to my drink. I could stay for another hour or … I was between girlfriends. I could try to pick up one of the waitresses myself, or go down to the brothel, or … who knew? Perhaps Darrell would be interested in a night of passion before we went back to school? I smiled at the thought – she was a handful between the sheets – then pushed it aside. It wasn’t going to happen. The last time I’d made eyes at her, because I’d been fool enough to think we could stay lovers even as we competed with each other on the pitch, she’d hexed me.

I sipped my drink and waited. Perhaps Mildred wouldn’t come back. She was a sorceress in training, skilled enough to pass her exams and go on to senior year. She’d be perfectly safe … wouldn’t she? Ice ran down my spine. She might be good at spellcasting from a safe distance, but … would she have the nerve to walk home on her own? In the dark? I stood, unsure quite what was bothering me, and headed for the door. A whore caught my arm, her dress bursting with promise, only to have me shrug her off. It wouldn’t annoy her that much. There was no shortage of potential customers in the bar.

There was no sign of Mildred, either, as I stepped outside. I cursed under my breath and cast a tracking spell. It wobbled alarmingly, suggesting someone was trying to obscure her precise location without being too obvious about it. And that meant … I repeated the tracking spell, drawing on the remains of the entanglement charms. No mundane street thief, or common or garden rapist, could do that. She wouldn’t hide herself, which meant …