We ran for what felt like a mile before cutting through an arch that had been braced between two buildings. It opened to another street with more cramped high-rises. We were on the run for at least twenty minutes when Ryker finally stopped in front of a door with an awning that said, “Francois’s Fix It Shop.” There was a sign that said, you break it, I buy it in the window.
Ryker rang the doorbell before pounding on the door.
“What is it?” a man’s gruff voice answered. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Isn’t it always the middle of the night here?” I asked Ryker.
“Yes,” she replied. “Martel, it’s me. Open up.”
The door swung in, and a large man, built like Superman, with pearlescent hair and a heavy beard, stood in the frame. “Neetra, my love.”
Neetra? I gave Carver an askance look.
He gave me an “I don’t know” head shake.
Martel’s face was lit up with joy as he stared at the half-djinn. “It’s been too long since you last returned.”
“It has,” she agreed. “I need your help.” She gestured to Carver and me. “We do. I need a way to the mainland that flies under the hunter’s radar. We got some storm kelpies hot on our asses as well.”
“I can make the arrangements.” He grabbed her into his arms, and when his hair dropped back, I saw he had long, pointy Spock ears. “But first, we make love.”
Ryker grinned. “You read my mind.” She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her inside.
Carver and I stood on the stoop as Martel carried our friend through the door. Unsure what to do, but knowing that standing in the street made us sitting ducks for blue dudes, I spoke. “I suppose we go in… No invitation needed, I guess.”
Carver nodded. “Yep. Doesn’t seem like.”
As we entered the dimly lit shop, the old floorboards creaking beneath us, the air was thick with the scent of oil, lemons, and aged wood. Shelves lined the walls with all kinds of strange items and a few mundane items, like clocks and radios. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for where the items ended up. A glowing Crystal orb was sandwiched between an old manual typewriter and a blender.
Ryker let out a squeal of delight as her “guy” threw her over his shoulder and carried her caveman-style up the stairs. She waved at us, a smile on her lips. “Make yourself comfortable while we hammer out a few details.”
I had a good idea of what was fixing to get hammered out. The situation was beyond absurd, but I just gave her a knowing smile and waved back. “Have fun.”
Carver closed the door behind us. Beaded sweat dotted his forehead, and his pale skin was flushed pink. He limped across the floor, and I noticed his socked feet had taken a battering. Bright red blood soaked the fabric near his left big toe.
“You're bleeding.”
“Better than the alternative.” He heel walked his way over to a couch in what appeared to be a waiting area and peeled off his sock. His toenail had partially detached, and it looked seriously painful.
“Ow. When did you do that?” In the corner of the area, there was a water cooler with a small table next to it that held a one-cup coffeemaker, napkins, and stacked foam cups. I got Carver a cup of water and some napkins to clean his wound.
“It’s cold,” I said, holding it out.
He smiled as he took the cup. “Want to see something neat?”
“Always.” I sat on the worn leather couch next to him as he set the cup on the ground and dipped his mangled toe into the water. He gave it a swirl, the water going from clear to pink and back to clear. When he took his toe out, it was completely healed. “Ta-dah,” he said softly.
“Amazing.” I quietly applauded and mimed an audience’s cheers. “The crowd goes wild.” I took the cup and set it down on the end table at my right. “You’re getting good with the water stuff.”
“I’ve been trying to practice as much as I can. A lot of it is built-in instinct, but some things, like healing myself with water, takes more effort.” Carver’s proximity to my sister when she had triggered her nero-craft had ignited his dormant sylph half. Since then, he’d been trying to learn the way of his mother’s people. Had Cooper Sharkbutt’s words struck a nerve or released insecurity? Carver had acted out of character by trading jibes with the storm kelpie, and I worried there was more going on.
“You’re doing great,” I reassured him. “And you’re not soft. You are so brave. I’m sorry I got you into this mess, but I’m glad you’re with me.” I snickered as I thought about his argument with the blue man. “I said what I said, huh?”
He looked mildly abashed. “That guy gave me the full ragey.”
“Ya think?”
Carver gave me an assessing look. “Are you okay? What’s going on with you?”
“Whatever could you mean?” I fake-tossed my hair for dramatic effect. “I am super-duper.”
“Hah.” He rolled his eyes. “You have such a quick and agile mind. I always see it when you’re learning new spells or crafting your own. You catch on fast, and you can see how new ingredients have the potential to change the outcomes. It’s incredible. I can see you becoming a great creator one day, with witches from all over eager to learn your recipes.”
“I feel a but coming on,” I teased.
“But,” he said, confirming my suspicion. “You take so many unnecessary risks. You put yourself in danger without thinking about the consequences. I swear I’ve aged twenty years since you modified the guidance potion. Nineteen of those years have been just since we got on the plane.”
“I'm sorry. I’d like to tell you that I’ll do better and take fewer risks, but I’d be lying. I mean, I’ll try.” I gave an ‘eh’ gesture. “I don’t like being in these situations any more than you do, but I can’t help but act when they happen. I’m a doer, damn it, and doers are going to do.”
He chuckled. “You should put that on a t-shirt and sell it.”
I patted his leg. “Would you like a hug?”
“Yes, please.”
I wrapped my arms around Carver and held on until he’d had enough. Truthfully, I needed the hug as much as he did—maybe more.
“More water, I think. And not for your toe. If we have more running to do, staying hydrated is key.”
“Please, dear Goddess, no more running,” Carver lamented. “Running is the worst.”
“Amen,” I chuckled as I went to the water cooler and poured us a couple of cups.
We swiftly gulped down our first cups of water and went back for more. I was sure we were suffering from mild dehydration and low blood sugar.
As Carver and I lounged in the cozy yet cluttered confines of the fix-it shop, it sunk in that Zev wasn’t in Natheria. We’d come all this way, and he hadn’t been here for months. The trail was cold at this point. Even so, I would track down Dr. Raines and force him to tell me what he did with the ifrit. The way Shay had spoken about the mad magical scientist, I worried that Zev might’ve become another “mistake” in his experiments, and he was trapped in some vat of slime deep in the basement of an illegal research facility, growing extra arms, four noses, and a foot out his ass.
I dismissed the thought as soon as it entered my head. I wouldn’t doom-scroll all the scenarios. I was going to find him, and then I would know. Until that time, I had to keep hope and faith in my guy that he was the cunning djinn who tricked a thousand-year-old sultan out of immortality. He would keep himself safe or at least unharmed.
“I wish we still had those protein bars,” Carver remarked, sinking deeper into the couch's worn leather cushions.
His words brought me back to the present. “What?”
“I’m starving,” he said, a hint of longing in his voice.
“I wish I had dry underwear,” I retorted with a smirk, my gaze wandering around the cluttered space.
Carver chuckled at my response, a sound that mingled with the soft hum of machinery in the background. “Sure, that too.”
My stomach rumbled again, a reminder of its empty state. “A protein bar sounds good, too,” I admitted, absently rubbing my belly. “We expended a lot of energy today.”
Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees, the damp fabric of my cargo pants rough against my skin. “Is it even still today?” I mused, a hint of fatigue tingeing my words. “It feels like we’ve been gone for a month.”
Carver's eyes scanned the room as if searching for answers amidst the clutter. “I think so, but it’s hard to tell,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “I don’t trust anything when it comes to this place.” His stomach made a sharp, trill sound. He made a face. “Maybe we should go on a snack hunt?”
“I’m in,” I agreed, rising from the couch to join him in our quest for sustenance. As we moved through the shop, my mind drifted to Ryker's enigmatic friend, Martel.
“What do you think of Ryker’s fella?” I asked curiously. “When she said she knew a guy, I hadn’t seen him coming, did you? He and Ryker seem, uhm, very close.”
Carver tilted his head in a half-shrug. “She’s part of that free love generation,” he remarked casually, his gaze flitting across the shelves and workbenches. “A love the one you're with kind of attitude.”
“He is hot,” I admitted, a hint of admiration in my voice. “If you like that sort of type.”
Carver nodded in agreement, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Who doesn’t like that type?” he smirked. “Pretty easy on the eyes.”
I giggled, a lightness creeping into my mood despite the lingering hunger. “Dude,” I exclaimed, giving him a playful whack on the arm. “Did you see those ears? Do you think he’s an elf?”
“I’ve never met an elf, so I’m not sure,” he admitted, a note of amusement in his voice. “But I have so many questions.”
“Oh my gosh, me too.” I looped my elbow in his. “Let’s find food and discuss.”
“Deal.”
As we combed the shadowy corners of the fix-it shop, the search for snacks took on a life of its own, a welcome distraction from the danger we faced. When one of the doors opened to a small kitchen, complete with a microwave and stove, I shouted, “Bingo, baby!”
I opened the refrigerator. “There’s a hard yellow cheese, some kind of smoked meat log, and grapes,” I informed Carver.
He rifled through the cabinets. “I’ve got soda crackers, jam of some kind, and,” he opened a drawer below the counter, “a knife.” He held up the shiny blade in triumph. “This feast is on,” he said.
“Like Donkey Kong,” I agreed.
Twenty minutes later, as we were relaxed, I regretted the last piece of cheese I had eaten. “Too much,” I said. “Way too much.”
“Same,” Carver lamented. “I have a meat and cheese baby growing in my tummy.”
Ryker came down the stairs with some extra pep in her step, holding something in her arms. Her hair was damp, and she wore clean, dry clothes, which I thought was cheating. “Martel has a way out for us, but it will take a few hours to arrange. He had some extra sweats he offered for you both. You can use his bathroom to clean up, but make your shower quick. His hot water heater isn’t big, and warm water runs out fast.
“Dibs,” I said quickly. I was getting a raw patch on my inner thigh because of my damp pants, and I was desperate to get into something warm and dry.
“There’s a washer and dryer in a laundry room near the bathroom if you want to wash and dry your stuff while we wait to leave,” Ryker informed us. “There’s time. We should all get a nap in, too. Once we get moving, I’m not sure when we will be able to rest.” She scratched her cheek as she looked at the tray of mostly eaten sliced cheese and smoked sausage. “I hope you saved some of that for me. I’m famished.”
I grinned. “I bet you are.”
She pursed her lips and threw the sweats at me. “Sometimes, when you get an itch, you have to scratch it.”
Martel came down the stairs and said, “And nobody scratches an itch like Neetra.” He gave Ryker a fond smile. “My contact will meet you all in the Brownie District.”
I frowned. “Because it’s brown?”
“No,” Martel said. “Because it’s run by Brownies, and they are the only ones on this island that aren’t afraid of the hunter. His magic doesn’t work on them, and no amount of money will convince a kelpie to step foot in their territory. Brownies don’t play nice or fair.” He eyeballed the food. “I see you helped yourself. Good. My pop always said that a full guest is a tasty guest.” He cracked a wry smile. “Just kidding. Not about pop saying it, but—” he rolled his hand to emphasize. “I don’t eat people anymore.”
My eyes widened. “Anymore?”
“He’s a reformed orc,” Ryker said. “Now, he only eats wild game and fish meat. Anything that walks on two legs is safe.”
“I’ll let the animals around here know.” I wasn’t joking. Yeesh. But hey, the question was answered. Martel was an orc. Who knew they could be handsome?
“Why does everyone around here eat people?” Carver asked. “Cripes.”
“Evolutionary food chain, my friend,” Martel said. “Humans are somewhere in the middle.”
“This has been fun,” I said, doing my best to hide my wince. “But I’d be grateful if you would direct me to your bathroom.”
Martel pointed at the stairs. “Up four flights of steps and to the left. Second door on the right.”
“Four flights?” That seemed like a long way to walk if your bladder was full.
“That’s my guest bathroom,” he explained, as if reading my thoughts. “There’s a bedroom on that floor as well if you want to rest when you’re finished.”
I gave him a grateful nod. “Thank you, Martel, for your food, hospitality, and getting us out of Natheria.”
“I haven’t gotten you out yet, but you’re welcome.”
Once I reached the shower, my tweaked knee from running through the forest was re-tweaked. Ugh. Even so, I wasted no time stripping off the wet, uncomfortable clothes. The orc’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash all smelled woodsy with sweet notes of vanilla.
The bedroom had a window with a bench. I dressed, leaned against the ledge, and looked out onto the bustling city. I was high enough to get a full view of the city lights, which, from a distance, reminded me of Christmas. There were lights on the front of the buildings. A different color for each one—blue, yellow, green, yellow, yellow, blue, and red. My mouth went dry as I went through the colors again. Blue, yellow, green, yellow, yellow, blue, and red.
I hopped up and sprinted out of the guest room and into the hallway. I collided with Carver as he was coming out of the bathroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his expression worried. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I grabbed his arms to steady myself. “Zev might still be in Natheria,” I told him. “We have to go. There is a giant teddy bear with the yellow bow out there somewhere, and I’m going to find it.”
“I don’t get it.” He narrowed his gaze on me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll explain when we get downstairs.” Gripping his hand, I dragged him toward the stairs. “I saw the flashing colors. I have to tell Ryker, and if we only have a few hours before our escape from this island leaves, we have to go now.”
First, I’d seen the cupid’s bow from my dream at the hunter’s place, and now the colorful flashing lights. It had to mean something, even if it was a coincidence. Regardless, I couldn’t leave this place until I knew for certain.