“Finny didn’t intend to be caught up all night at work,” Isla said, plucking a few peanuts from the bowl at the center of the table, “but three new organizations arrived to present their products to him. I imagine he won’t dally around if he knows you are waiting for him.”
Finnian kept busy with the underbelly of the city. Humans stuck to one side, mages to the other. The Bogart Strip was hidden in the magical side where Finnian had created his black market, safeguarded by a portal only mages could step through.
Cassian would lie next to Finnian in bed and listen to him gush about all the arcane trinkets and potions in its ominous alley. Despite his innocent excitement, the market attracted attention from all sorts of dodgy visitors. However, it was a huge contributor to the revenue of the city, while simultaneously the biggest cause of conflict.
As covens of mages congregated and settled, competition arose, rivaling began, and it seemed like each day, more and more were requesting to meet with Finnian—for he had to approve items before they could be sold in his market.
“Tell us about yourself, Everett.” Eleanor cracked open a peanut shell and popped the contents inside of her mouth. Her eyes were cloudy from the alcohol. “What do you do?”
Cassian rested back in his chair and took another swig. “I am an undertaker,” he said, the first occupation correlating with death to pop in his head.
“Oh.” Isla stifled a laugh in her palm, exchanging a look with Eleanor.
Laughter spewed out of her. Bits of peanut spit across the table as she doubled over. “You were probably thrilled to arrive, only to find it’s ruled by a necromancer!” She banged on the surface of the table, wheezing in between her giggles.
“I think you picked the wrong city to find employment in.” Isla playfully nudged his arm, smiling wide.
Cassian cleared his throat and crossed his arms as Eleanor’s laughter echoed over the clatter of voices. He bit back his smile, watching her freckled cheeks turn bright red.
Nobody in Finnian’s city perished. Ghouls were stationed all over the crevices and dark alleyways along the magical side. They were his eyes, his ears, his civil guards.
Cassian’s fingers twitched each time he strolled past one of the undead creatures, itching to relinquish its soul. A habit ingrained within him that he learned to counteract by reminding himself how much the ghouls and necromancy meant to Finnian.
“I work outside the city,” he explained. “It is why I am gone for weeks at a time. The war has, unfortunately, kept me busy.”
Eleanor wiped the corner of her eyes, coming down from her cackling. “I must say, Everett, I did not believe opposites attract until now. You give rest to the dead bodies while Finny revives them.”
Isla shook her head at Eleanor, amused.
“That sounds like a brutal line of work.” She turned her head towards Cassian. “It seems the war has no end in sight.”
“I guarantee Everett has no desire to talk about the war,” Eleanor said pointedly, in response to Isla. “Let’s talk about other matters far less depressing, shall we?”
Isla gave her a playful look and stuck out her tongue. “In that case, we need refills.” She stood from the table.
Eleanor gulped down the rest of her beer and then said, “It is your turn to cast a charm on the barkeeper.”
Women were sociallynot allowedto order drinks in bars. A preposterous concept that Cassian could not wrap his mind around, but nevertheless, he found it amusing to watch the two mages cast their charms and get their well-deserved way.
“Everett?” Isla gestured to his half-full pint with her eyes.
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
They both started across the tavern to the bar.
When they returned, they didn’t ask any follow-up questions about Everett.
As the night carried on, Cassian sipped on his beer and listened to them tell stories of the past—all revolving around Finnian.
Once, he’d used his sorcery to mark a large, runic sigil above the entire city just to make it snow for a child. Once, he’d disguised a simple pear as a heart-shaped mound of gold and donated the profit back to his mages. There were manyonces, and Cassian couldn’t determine if all were true, but he smiled at the thought of Finnian’s kindness. Although, the stories only made Cassian miss him more.
Eleanor became louder and more animated the more she drank. Isla’s laughter transitioned into hiccups.
Cassian’s gaze flitted from them to the door. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen Finnian. Duties in the Land and Council business had kept him busy.
Acting as a warden to souls had taken a toll on his mental energy. Just in the past week, he’d approved over two thousandto be reincarnated, punished seventy-eight rotten souls and tossed them into the Serpentine Forest, and dealt with the twenty-two souls who had attempted to escape and were caught by the Errai near the gates of his Land.
Tension was growing among deities because of the war. Division was slowly forming. They were choosing sides between the High Goddess of Peace and the High Goddess of War. Iliana had called five Council meetings in the last month to discuss the matter. All of which, Cassian had avoided Ruelle’s presence and vanished the second their meeting was adjourned.
