Chapter 6

CHAPTER6

Myth let out a long-suffering sigh as he flopped down onto Lore’s favorite chair, depriving his best friend of the piece of furniture for his own comfort. It had been a hellish few days, his dreams full of Callan’s smirking face and the taunts that the fucking amulet had stronger willpower than he did.

That was, of course, what he opened with, because who needed backstory?

“Do magical thingits choose people, somehow?” Myth asked, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew that much, but he’d never heard of someone being unable to get rid of it. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but at the same time…

Thissorcerer was known for nasty curses.

Thatmage was known for being subpar.

And on, and on. It was a miracle he’d even managed to get through Izar’s door. Fuck, and of course Izar had wanted the amulet. Why hadn’t Myth taken him up on the offer, then? Why had he turned down one hundred and fifty fucking gold pieces? Fuck. Fuck!

Lore gave him a strange look. “Hello to you too, been a while. Like, almost a month. Glad you’re okay, how have you been?” Then he shook his head and started going through something behind the counter. “My shop is still open, you know.”

“I’ll have you know I’m here as a paying customer,” Myth informed him, rattling off, “Hello, I’m good, how are you, do you have any tea?” He dropped his head against the back of the chair. “No, wait. Skip the tea and go straight to the whiskey. And close your shop early. People can wait on their magical erection-builders and sleeping potions for a while.”

“Are you going to pay me? Since you’re a paying customer. And poor Thomas really needs the erection-builders if he’s going to keep his much younger wife happy.” Lore suppressed a smile, though. “She came in here on a different day, asking if I didn’t have something to make her more… flexible, because she couldn’t keep up, and how does her 20-year older husband even have that kind of stamina?”

Myth would’ve been more amused if it wasn’t for the fact that it reminded him of Callan, and that was no one’s fault but his own. “I’ll pay you with wisdom,” he said, sitting up straight again. “Seriously, Lore, I’m in deep shit and I don’t know if I can get out of it this time,” he admitted. Lore was the only person he could be candid with.

“Wisdom doesn’t pay my bills.” Lore sighed and came around to the other side of the counter, leaning against it.

Lore was smaller than Myth, and skinnier too. That came from never actually stepping foot outside his shop. If Lore had his way, he wouldn’t even have the shop—he would just be working on new spells all the time, researching magic that would never be used.

Of course, nobody could eat off of research, either, so Lore was forced to run the store. As one of two sorcerers in town, Lore had plenty of business. He’d only opened the shop a few years ago and he was doing fairly well for himself—a nice change from when Lore and Myth used to play on the streets together, two kids from poor families who got into trouble just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And sometimes because they’d wanted to cause trouble.

“I have…” Myth gripped the silver ring on his finger, intending to remove it and pass it on to Lore, but changed his mind. Who knew if that sorcerer had placed spells on it? “I’ll get you something nice next time.”

“What’s this actually about?” Lore asked. “What magical ‘thingits’ did you get involved in?”

Myth groaned, not wanting to get to it. There was that surge of protectiveness again, the part of him that didn’t want to talk about it, and he sternly told himself that he was not going to get out-stubborned by a fucking necklace.

Put that way, it was even more ridiculous.

He pulled it out of his pocket, dangling it in front of him. “Uh. I… found this. And it’s giving me trouble.” He glared at the amulet, like it was the piece of jewelry’s fault—and gods only knew, maybe it was. Callan certainly thought so.

Lore approached and extended his hand to take the amulet, but Myth instinctively pulled it away.

The two of them stared at each other for a second.

“I kind of need to be able to see it if you want me to assess what it’s doing,” Lore pointed out.

“You can see it just fine,” Myth said defensively. “I’m holding it up. It’s right here.”

Lore gave him a look, and Myth gritted his teeth. Less willpower than a fucking necklace, his ass. He handed it over, though a jolt of panic ran through him. If he didn’t trust Lore as much as he did, he’d have taken it back and run—which was… not helpful, to put it lightly.

Lore ran his fingers over the ruby gently. “There’s definitely a lot of magic here. But I don’t know what it does. I have a few scrying spells I could try? All of that is in the back room.” He frowned, looking at it. “There’s a pulse. It’s faint, but… it feels like it’s alive.”

“Alive?” Myth repeated, staring at the thing that had been nothing but trouble. Apart from the thrill he’d gotten from stealing it right under his asshole of a father, it had been nothing but a source of anxiety and irritation. “That’s not normal.”

“Obviously,” Lore said, snorting. “I figured you’d learned enough magic over the years to know that much, at least.”

Myth made a face at him. “I’ll… carry it to the back.”

His best friend made a face right back. “You barely let me take it to begin with. I can handle one magical item from the shopfront to the workroom. It’ll be okay, Myth.”

But what if it wouldn’t be?

Damn it.

Willpower.

Myth gave an exaggerated sigh and waved a hand. “Carry on.” But he still had the urge to snatch it away from Lore, which was so preposterous that he could barely make sense of it. There was no one he trusted more than his best friend. He and the mage had known each other for years, had plied their various trades with each other’s help. “I’m going to need some refreshes, too. I had to use the ‘don’t see me’ charm. And one to slow my fall.”

“Okay. I have a few of those ready for you.” Lore gave him an amused smile. “Because I remember my best friend even when he’s not right in front of me.”

“I always remember you!” Myth protested. “Especially when I’m picking locks. And when the one on my chest gets warm when people are getting near. It makes me warm and fuzzy. I just…” He sighed. “I may have fucked up this time, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

He watched while Lore locked up the shop, turning the sign so it was clear he was closed, then he followed his friend into the back.

Unlike Izar’s shop, the back of Lore’s little store was warm and cozy. There were no dead parts anywhere, no tingle of hostile magic when he stepped through the door. The windows let in a lot of bright light, and the shelves only held ingredients and back stock of items meant for eventual sale.

Myth hovered nearby while Lore set the amulet down in the center of a round table, which had various spell lines carved into it. Back when Lore was first building his shop, he’d tried to teach Myth what the spells meant, but it was all still gibberish to Myth. He remembered the lines and could probably draw them from memory, but without the magic to power them, they’d do nothing.

“You know I’m happy to help you out, even if you fucked up bad.” Lore pulled a bag of salt out from under the table and began pouring it into the carved lines.

This was so much more elaborate than when Izar had looked at the amulet.

What made two magic users use such different spells? Myth knew there were many different ways to cast spells, but even after this many years being friends with a sorcerer, Myth hadn’t learned much about different types of spell-casting. Lore always hand-waved it off and went on to talking about something else, saying it was too complicated.

Myth resented the dismissal, but there were other things he wanted to know about more than the intricate differences in types of magic.

“I just hope you don’t end up in danger. I…” Myth hesitated, then bit his lip before running a hand over his thick curly hair. “I sort of attracted a… sorcerer? Mage? Is there even a difference?” he asked before continuing, “A rich one. I took a few of his rings, and he tracked me down, but not to get them back. He wanted… that.”

“The difference is that sorcerers wear robes, and mages wear pants.” Lore gestured to himself, wearing a knee-length robe that was tied around his waist.

Myth rolled his eyes. “But you’re also wearing pants. So what does that make you?”

“We swear an oath not to tell outsiders the difference at a young age,” Lore deadpanned.

Snorting, Myth turned his attention back to the amulet. “Well, some mage or whatever is trying to get it from me. He was annoyed when he couldn’t pickpocket me.” Which would’ve been funny, if it hadn’t been for what happened after.

“How did he even get close enough to you to pickpocket you?” Lore finished pouring the salt and got a jar of oil. “Or was this one of your one-night liaisons? Which I told you were a bad idea.”

Myth squirmed, not really wanting to talk about his one-night-stand with Callan, but at the same time… Who else was he going to talk to about it? It was driving him insane. “Yes, yes, but I needed the coin. Gemstone on one of them was a fucking fake, but he still talked about them like they could trap a thief…” He swallowed hard.

In some ways, he had been trapped. His mind went to Callan again and again, refusing to divert itself for long.

He glanced at the silver ring on his finger. Maybe he did need to ask Lore about it, if he could get up the nerve. The amulet was more important, though, and he didn’t want to distract his friend from… whatever he was doing.

Lore drizzled some of the oil around the amulet. The air started to feel heavier than before, like a summer storm pressing down on Myth. They were well past summer though, and Myth knew it was just the magic building up.

It sucked that he could sense magic and do tiny, insignificant things with it, but he’d never be able to use his magic for anything even half as useful as this.

Finally, Lore waved his hands over the amulet. A second later, flames rose up from the oil and spread to the salt, rising up to form the spell in fire.

The fire died down only moments later.

“Huh,” Lore said, looking at the gem. “Weird. I thought it would be more…”

A loud pop filled the air, and the salt that had been on the table shot out across the room, pelting Myth and Lore both.

Myth yelped, taking a quick step back. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, shielding his eyes in case more salt hurled itself at them. “Lore—”

“I know!” Lore rushed to one of the side shelves and pulled a jar down. He ran back to pour the contents all over the amulet.

The table stopped vibrating and the salt settled down, leaving the two of them staring at the goop-covered amulet.

“I don’t think it wanted me to do that,” Lore said, his voice shaking.

Great. Just what he needed. Myth brushed salt off his clothing, afraid the goo would explode next. “What exactly did you try to do to it, anyway?”

“It was just a simple scrying spell! It was supposed to tell me what the spell on the amulet did.”

Myth bit his lip. “Great. So it is sentient.” He glanced at Lore once he was sure nothing else was going to bombard them. “Callan said it has a stronger willpower than I do,” he said, and he couldn’t keep the sulk from his voice.

“I doubt the amulet itself has a will. But whoever placed the spell on it…” Lore trailed off and turned to look at Myth. “Wait. Who’s Callan?”

“Um.” Myth squirmed under Lore’s gaze. “He’s… the one I sort of… attracted. That one-night liaison who tried to pickpocket me. He found me again. I don’t know how he found me. You know how careful I am.”

“Yes, so careful that you fall into bed with a new man every other night,” Lore said snidely. Then he winced. “Sorry. You should do whatever you want.”

Myth glared at him. “It’s not my fault you’re searching for your one true love, and hide yourself away like a princess in a gods-be-damned tower. I enjoy my time with other men. But I’ve never…” He sobered a little, looking down at the ring on his finger. “No one’s ever treated me like he did. And that isn’t even really nice. He fucked with my head, and I still stayed, and it wasn’t even because he had me tied down—”

Well.

He probably shouldn’t have admitted that part, because Lore gaped at him. “You let a stranger tie you down?”

Myth sighed. “I didn’t technically let him. He just sort of did it with magic, and by the time I realized he’d released me, I didn’t feel like going anywhere else anymore.”

“Didn’t feel like…?” Lore covered his face with his hands. “Myth. Myth, you can’t just… You’re already leading a dangerous life! And you know I don’t care if you steal a few things here and there, but you don’t have to. I could give you a job. We’d just run a nice quiet little shop, and there’d be no weird dangerous amulets or sorcerers who tie you down, or—”

That sounded absolutely miserable to Myth. “You know I’d last about an hour without running off to find something else to do. I didn’t choose the name Myth to be an unknown. At least this way, people will know my name.”

“While they hunt you down,” Lore pointed out.

Myth waved a hand. “I look like every other Priyanese person out there. Just prettier.” He smirked at Lore, trying to settle his friend, but all he could think about was Callan threatening—promising?—to take him as his own.

“You aren’t that anonymous,” Lore said. He crossed his arms in front of himself. “But, fine. At least leave the amulet with me. Whatever magic is on it, it’s bad. I’ll figure out how to dispose of it safely, and you can go into hiding for a bit.”

Myth’s mouth went dry, and he stared at Lore. “You want me to…” He shook his head fervently. “No. Nope. Not happening. I’m not leaving this thing here with you—” Before Lore could interrupt him, he went on, “I don’t care if the fucking thing is… is… attached to me or whatever, but I’m not putting you into that kind of danger. That sorcerer Izar offered me a hundred and fifty gold coins for it, then got royally pissed when I refused him. He’d be at your door in a heartbeat.”

“Izar?” Lore’s mouth thinned into a frown. “What? And I’m better equipped to deal with any magical trouble that amulet is going to call down. You just said there was another sorcerer who tried to steal it from you. I have magical protections. I could hide the amulet’s presence, even if I’m not strong enough to remove the spells on it entirely.”

“I can deal with the sorcerer,” Myth said, even though he had absolutely no idea how to do that. “Just give me a few spells to help me hide it, and hide myself, and stock up on the necessities.”

“Myth… I think it’s bad for you to keep this,” Lore said quietly. “Its magic is trying to bind you. You want to get rid of it anyway, don’t you?”

“I…” No. He didn’t really want to get rid of it. “I just need the payday from it,” Myth said, squirming. He couldn’t help himself. He strode forward and grabbed the amulet, goop and all, and shoved it into his pocket. “But until then, I’ll keep it safe.”

“Please be careful.” Lore reached out for Myth, but stopped himself. “Don’t let it control you. And I’ll try to do some research about it? Although magical amulet that’s bad news might be a bit hard to pin down.”

Myth grimaced. “Yeah. It’s not much to go on.” He forced a smile. “Maybe knowing it came from the royal vaults will help!” He clapped Lore on the shoulder while his best friend buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’ve been here too long. I need to stay on the move until…” Until when? It wasn’t like he was going to figure this out. “I’ll check back with you in a week or so.”

Lore nodded and brushed some of his long hair back. “Okay. Say hello to your mother for me? She came around last week, asking for you.”

Myth looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I’ll go see her.”

He just hoped he had enough coin to pay off her debts before he had to go on the run again.