Free True Magics by Erik Buchanan Page B

docks.”
    “And why the docks?”
    “Because that’s where you’ll find the most entertainers. Especially now that shipping is open again.”
    They walked from the Street of Smiths, through the more fashionable districts close to the city walls, and around to the docks. The closer they got, the more folks they saw in the streets, stepping in and out of the taverns. By the time they reached the dock area proper, the place was alive with people. Sailors, beggars, men and women together, and men out on their own, all looking for a place to eat and drink their Festival feast.
    A cold wind was gusting hard from inland toward the sea. Thomas pulled his coat tighter and counted himself lucky. The stink from fish and seaweed and offal from the sewers that came from the harbour was usually bad enough to make the unwary gag. Tonight, though, the wind was driving the dock stench before it.
    “Here,” said Henry, stopping before one of the better-kept looking taverns. “We may as well start at the top and work our way down.”
    The dinner at the first tavern was quite good, and Henry paid for it, which cheered Thomas up slightly. The entertainment was a singer whose voice, while impressive, was certainly not magical. Thomas and Henry left as soon as they finished eating.
    The second tavern had a pair of girls dancing to hurdy-gurdy and drum. The third had no entertainment, but the men there—ships’ crews from the look of them—were singing loudly and happily all on their own. Thomas and Henry had a drink and sang a round with them, then left.
    There might have been entertainment in the fourth tavern, but the men inside were too busy fighting with one another to listen. Henry suggested they skip it.
    The fifth tavern had enough empty seats that Thomas could lead Henry to a table that gave them a view of the door. They ordered a pair of small drinks and Henry scanned the room. “Doesn’t look like they have any entertainment.” He followed Thomas’s eyes back to the door. “Who are you watching for?”
    A stout man with a blue cloak and a green coat stepped through the door, looked around, and went up to the bar. “Him,” said Thomas. “He’s been following us.”
    “Really?” Henry looked surprised. “I didn’t notice.”
    “I noticed him in the second tavern. Church?”
    “Maybe,” said Henry.
    “Should we ask him?”
    “No,” said Henry. “If he is, he’ll lie about it, report back and get replaced.”
    “So we just let him follow us?”
    “Yes.”
    “And if he figures out what we’re doing?”
    “That will be difficult,” said Henry, “since we don’t even know what we’re doing.”
    “True.” Thomas looked around the tavern and sighed. “Is there even any entertainment in here?”
    Two taverns later, they found a man performing magic. He was a tall, thin fellow with a long cloak with stars woven into it, and a tall, floppy hat. He claimed the name of Magnificent Martin, which made the sailors chuckle, and he was surprisingly good. He did several tricks with cards and dice and a hat borrowed from the audience that he turned into a chicken drumstick and back again. Thomas watched and listened closely, but didn’t hear or see anything that was more than parlour magic.
    The stout man in the blue cloak had followed them to each tavern. He watched the magician’s performance with interest, too. So much so that he seemed to forget about Thomas and Henry entirely until the show was done.
    Magnificent Martin did a second performance of all new tricks then went through the audience betting coppers they couldn’t guess which card he had in his hand, or which numbers the dice were on after he hid them with a cup. Thomas bet him three times and lost each one. As near as he could tell, the man used no magic whatever, just slight-of-hand and some excellent patter.
    After the magician left, they finished their drinks and headed out into the night. The wind was still blowing and the temperature had