Page 28 of Magick and Lead (Dragons and Aces #2)

ESSA

C harlie took me into the shopping district of the city, and for a moment, I could only stand on the street corner, my jaw agape.

Women bustled past in shoes with long heels and skirts so short they only came down to their knees.

Men with silk scarves around their necks (ties, Charlie called them) shouted and waved their hands to get motor cars to stop and pick them up.

Then off they would go, the horseless wagons chugging away down the street.

Food vendors shouted from their carts. Boys jogged down the street, tossing a ball back and forth.

Black ropes were strung from poles above us, and Charlie told me they contained electricity, which I surmised was the necromancer magick that kept the city running.

I’d witnessed a similar scene yesterday when I’d first arrived, but then I’d been so focused on finding Charlie that I hadn’t been able to take it all in.

Now, the wonder of the sights and sounds almost left me feeling lightheaded.

And the rats here are delicious, too! Othura chimed in from the back of my mind.

A teenage boy grabbed Charlie’s arm and tried to hand him a flyer for what he termed an all-girls chorus revue.

“I want to go,” I said as he shrugged the boy off.

“No, you don’t,” Charlie said, crumpling up the paper.

“But what is it?”

“Dancing,” he said.

“I love dancing.”

“Not this kind,” he said.

I stopped short, hand on my hip. “You assume you know everything I want?”

He sighed, staring up at the sky as if looking for divine help. “Is everything going to be a fight with you?”

“Yes,” I said.

Charlie glared at me.

I glared at him.

Then he smiled, shaking his head, and offered me his arm. “Fine. I’d rather fight with you than miss you any day. Come on.”

The clothing store he led me to was nothing like the tailor’s shops in Maethalia, where there might be one or two outfits on display and the tailors would custom-make your clothes based on those designs.

Here, hundreds of dresses, blouses, trousers, and coats were already finished and hung on display. I walked up and down the racks, in awe.

“Were these made with necromantic power?” I asked Charlie.

He gave a pained smile to an older woman who glanced over at us. “If you mean by sewing machines running on electricity,” he whispered, “then yes.”

I released the lovely midnight blue dress I’d been fondling.

“I don’t want to wear them, then.”

Charlie leaned close to me, so that we were almost cheek-to-cheek. “Essa. All the clothes here are made in factories. Or at least, all the clothes that will help you fit in at a dance hall. You’re going to have to be flexible.”

I met his ocean blue eyes. Flexible? I wanted to say.

I’m a queen. To garb myself in something made by necromancy would not only violate the edicts of the Earth Mother, it would be profoundly bad luck, almost as bad as dousing oneself in scrying water.

I might as well invite the beasts of the void to crawl all over me.

And yet…

I had to remind myself this was his city, not mine.

And I was acting as an agent, moving among the enemy in secret.

Charlie had done the same thing when he’d been with me in Maethalia, hadn’t he?

How many strange and uncomfortable things had he endured as my guest?

He’d even stepped into the Hatchery, home to over a hundred dragons—despite spending his career as a dragon fighter.

If he could do that, I should be able to wear one of these dresses.

I glanced around. None of the other women in the shop seemed to be suffering any negative effects from their ill-gotten clothing.

And though fashion here was completely different than at home in Maethalia, I could tell I was in the right place.

The women around us all had the snooty, aloof bearing of noble women, and the clerks watched me with a strange mixture of interest and bemusement as I traveled from rack to rack, tracing sleeves with my fingers and holding up dresses to examine.

The gowns were all beautiful, though they seemed awfully sheer and lightweight—almost like faecloth.

I held up one, a beaded sheath of fabric with thin straps.

“That’s a pretty one,” Charlie said.

“I didn’t ask,” I shot back.

He rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh.

I smiled. If I couldn’t kill him, the least I could do was needle him a bit.

“Can I help you find anything?” one of the tailor’s assistants asked, sidling over to us.

From the looks of the other two clerks standing behind the counter, I guessed she’d drawn the short lot and been forced to come and wait on us.

I frowned at the dress. “This is too light. Do you have anything with thicker fabric? Something that might turn away a blade?”

“No—that’s…” Charlie whispered, shaking his head.

The shop girl gave a musical giggle. “A blade? Oh my, girl. You’re a hoot. What’s your name?”

“Ess—” I started to say, then stopped myself.

I knew the names of the Admite president, the first lady, and quite a few members of Congress.

It was possible I was known to people over here, and whispers of a strange girl called Essaphine wandering around Ironberg wouldn’t exactly help me stay undercover.

I still wore the fake hand with the glove on it, held in place by the sling, so hopefully, people shouldn’t realize right away that I had only one arm. But still, I had to be careful.

“Ester,” Charlie finished for me. “Her name is Esther. She’s my… cousin.”

“Fiancée,” I said at the same time.

The shop girl looked amused. “Wow. Okay. Cousin fiancé. No judgement here. Where are you from, Esther?”

I hesitated.

“You have a slight accent,” the girl pressed. “You must be from up north, right?”

“Wilderton,” Charlie said.

I nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Yes. Wilderton.”

“Ooh, really? What’s it like there?” the girl asked. “Are there really bears? And wild boars? A friend of mine went up there and said she saw wisps in the night, but I didn’t believe her.”

I gave a brittle smile. “Yes, of course,” I said. “And dragons.”

The girl looked shocked. “Dragons in Wilderton?”

Charlie shot me a glare.

Othura and her friends sometimes crossed the sea to hunt in the wilds of northern Admar. There were elk up in the great forests near Wilderton that were especially delicious, apparently. But judging from the look on this poor girl’s face, people in Ironberg didn’t know about that. Oops…

“Sorry, we’re in a hurry,” Charlie said, grabbing my arm and giving it a warning squeeze. “We’re going dancing tonight, so she’ll need something appropriate for a dance hall. And another outfit that can be worn to business occasions. Conservative. Long-sleeved.”

“Of course!” the shop girl said. “I have something that will look perfect with those amazing eyes of yours. Follow me.”

In a few minutes, I’d selected three dresses, stockings, and a pair of flat-bottomed shoes that were terribly slippery to walk in and incredibly impractical—but looked just like the shoes the shop girl was wearing.

I tried on the short party dress in front of the mirror. It was pretty, with tiny metallic circles on it that sparkled like dragon scales—perfect for a Skrathan. But…

“How do you run and fight in clothes like these?” I asked, frowning.

The shop girl giggled. “My advice is, try not to get that drunk.”

I did a half-turn in the mirror, then glanced over to find Charlie watching me, his eyes brimming with some unspoken emotion. Seeing him stare at me like that made me feel suddenly self-conscious.

“Well, cousin? Do I look like a girl from Ironberg?” I asked.

“No,” he said. And the unspoken simnal between us—suddenly active for the first time since we’d parted on Dorhane—filled in the rest. There’s no girl in Ironberg who’s anything like you, Essa.

The shop girl sucked her lower lip, thinking. “Well… Your hair… Short hair is kind of in at the moment here in the city… But your hair is beautiful . I would never tell you to…”

One glance in the mirror and a quick look around the shop told me she was right. None of the women in Ironberg had waist-long hair like mine. I slipped the dagger out of my bag.

“Hold my braids,” I said.

The shop girl’s eyes went wide, but with a wary glance at my blade, she did as she was told.

“Ess—Ester—” Charlie stuttered. “You don’t have to?—”

But the sharp steel was already slicing through the thick plaits of hair. In half a second, it was finished.

I spun the blade with a flourish and slipped it back into the sheath in my bag.

“There,” I said, shaking out my now chin-length hair as I turned to the mirror. I did look much more like an Ironberg girl.

Charlie just stood staring at me, a stunned expression on his handsome face. I couldn’t tell whether he thought my short hair looked pretty or terrible, but I forced myself not to ask for his opinion.

“Wow,” the shop girl said, still holding my long braids.

I gave her a nod. “Thank you for your help.”

“Sure thing,” she glanced at my sling. “Say, I was wondering, what happened to your arm?”

I glanced down at it, then back to her. “I broke it punching a shop keep who asked too many questions.”

The girl laughed. “Oh my. You Wilderton girls are really too much!”

“You have no idea,” Charlie muttered, putting a hand on my back. “Let’s go. We’ve still gotta get ready for tonight.”