Chapter 17

Seventeen

"There are many things that will distract a sorcerer from his noble path, chiefly dark magic, deals with gods, and women." — Sorcery in the Age of Reason.

Augustus couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous or when he’d gone on his last date. He straightened the cuffs of his jacket for the hundredth time and wondered if he was making a big mistake.

He thought the suit was too much and then remembered that nothing was ’too much’ on a blood moon. He didn’t doubt that Mara would be looking outstanding and didn’t want to look sloppy beside her.

"Well, look at you all cleaned up," Flynn whistled, coming through the front door without knocking. "I’m half tempted to hit on you myself."

"Thank you, Flynn, but I actually have a date."

"Sure you do. Wait. What? Surely not…the saint? She must be really something to get you out."

"She is, and you thought so too when you met her."

Flynn frowned. "I think I would remember meeting a saint."

"Not this one. She’s cursed," Augustus reminded him, for the third time since he had made them dinner.

"Huh. Explains why she would stoop low enough to give you a shot. Poor darling must be desperate. Introduce her to me, and I’ll make sure she has a grand time."

Augustus laughed. "She saw through your bullshit once. I’m sure she won’t have a problem rejecting you again," he replied, tying his tie.

"If she can see through mine, then you are doomed. Here, let me do it. You’re mangling it." Flynn knocked his hands out of the way and started to re-knot his tie.

"I’m really…" Augustus faltered, not knowing the right words. "I really like her, Flynn. It’s been over a hundred years since I liked anyone."

"Sounds like you’re well overdue then, aren’t you? There, that’s better. You look positively dashing and not like the useless, drunk sorcerer you are. Gods, you even trimmed your stubble. You must like her."

"I do. Her family hates sorcerers, so I’m determined to prove some of us are trustworthy."

"Oh, a forbidden love on top of everything else! Be still my beating heart." Flynn clutched his chest, ever the drama queen.

"You are going to be fine, Augustus. Remember one crucial thing: you might be a surly, rude, alcoholic sorcerer, but you are also really hot. Like really, unfairly hot. Just keep your mouth shut, and you’ll be winning."

"You’re such a dick." Augustus grabbed his sword cane and checked that the silver stag engravings were shining. "I’ll see you there?"

Flynn’s smile turned wicked. "With bells on."

"Clothes too this time."

"Don’t tell me what to do."

Augustus shook his head at him and headed out the door. He could already feel the snap and tingle of magic in the air.

Blood moon nights were always charged, and the night was already feeling particularly powerful. Was it because the hole in Melbourne’s magic was smaller? It was something to think about later.

Augustus stared up at the cloudless sky, the stars twinkling despite the city’s determination to try and outshine them. He breathed the night air and let the power of Mara’s store guide him to her.

He caught his reflection in car windows parked along the streets and tried not to stare. He was looking suspiciously like his old self. He gripped the cane that had belonged to his father and tried to remember what that too confident young man had been like.

You have a great capacity to turn into a rake, he remembered Emmaline chiding him.

Augustus smiled, the memory not hurting him for once. He was still thinking of his sister and what she would think of Mara when the red shop door came into view.

Augustus stared at the door, straightened his jacket, and before he could reach for it, it swung open. Athanasius’s eyes glowed with malice in the warm shop light.

"Hey, puss," Augustus greeted with a smile. "Happy Blood Moon."

Athanasius was not in the mood for pleasantries. "Be careful with my granddaughter, sorcerer. Mara has a big miracle building in her, and if you make her waste it, gods and saints won’t save you from me," the cat replied.

"What big miracle?" Augustus asked. "Is she okay?"

"She is for now. A miracle that size can kill a Corvo, and I don’t want Mara dying for you. She deserves better after everything she’s lived through. God, I don’t know what she sees in you at all." Athanasius’s tail flicked irritably. "She’s only ever wanted to be loved. Her mother couldn’t give it to her, so be careful what you offer up to her. A saint’s love is a sacred thing."

Augustus didn’t get a chance to try and decipher the cat’s cryptic comments because his magic flared hot, and there she was.

If Augustus still harbored any doubt that Mara was a saint, it was now obliterated. Augustus stared at her not because she was full of miracles but because she was one.

Mara was wearing a black velvet dress with intricate patterns embroidered in gold thread and beads. Black shimmered on her eyelids, and gold sparkled on her red lips.

Her pale silver hair had been braided and pinned up in an elaborate crown and had black crow feathers decorated with ruby eyes stuck into her braids to form a halo. She looked like a living Byzantine ikon.

"Saints…" Augustus whispered.

"Thank God, you’re dressed up too," Mara was saying. "I thought I overdid it."

Say something clever and charming, his brighter half demanded of him.

"I have a sword cane," he said out loud, and his brighter half threw its hands up in frustration. Augustus cleared his throat and tried again. "You look like a saint."

"I know. This is what my mother used to dress me up in when we toured in bigger cities. It helps to look the part. You said there’s no hiding your true nature on a Blood Moon, so I thought it was appropriate." Mara looked up at him. "You don’t think it’s too much?"

"Not at all. You are quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen," he admitted honestly.

"High praise coming from a sorcerer," Mara said, lips rising in her sphinx smile. "I’m glad I’m going as your date tonight and not your friend, Augustus."

"Oh, please. You two are going to make me throw up my dinner," Athanasius complained.

"You’re still here?" Augustus took a small toy fish from his pocket that had been stuffed with magic-infused catnip. "Here, go eat that and stop ruining the moment, you grumpy old thing."

He tossed the fish, and Athanasius caught it mid-air. With a final hiss, he scampered back into the store.

"Alchemists and cats! They are all the same," Augustus complained. He offered Mara his arm. "Shall we, little saint?"

Mara locked the shop door and slipped her arm in his.

"I’m nervous," she whispered.

"Me too," he replied, and they both laughed.

"It’s good to know we are on the same page. Tell me, sorcerer, how does one find a bar that only exists on a Blood Moon?" Mara asked.

"By looking for the right door."

They roamed the East End, their formal attire garnering glances from curious onlookers.

Humans, as a rule, generally didn’t notice the magical amongst the mundane, but a sorcerer and a saint walking together were striking enough to make even the most unromantic human pause and smile.

Augustus’s fingertips tingled, and they turned down Hosier Lane. Bright graffiti decorated the brick walls on either side of them, and Augustus paused, tasting the magic in the air.

"There’s a door close by," he said, releasing a tiny spark of magic into the air.

The silver star shivered and stretched and became a glittering stag. Mara laughed as it cantered in the air around her before it raced towards a blue and black skull with a red moon painted on its forehead.

The stag charged it with its antlers, and a section of the wall slid sideways.

"Here we go, watch your step," Augustus said, guiding Mara through the doorway and into the darkness.