“Good job, darling Saint. You know how we need the money. If you’re discovered as unregistered, the fine will bankrupt us all and we’ll be left homeless.”
I nodded, struggling to swallow past my dry throat. But the woman’s expression still haunts me.
It still makes me feel vaguely sick to think about now. Not surprising, considering it’s not so much a nightmare as a memory. A reminder of my past misdeeds.
My unregistered status was something the Herald always held over me. All magic-users are supposed to be tested and registered as soon as their powers come in, but since my mom is human and we moved around so much, she never took me in for testing.
I had these teenaged visions of being hustled into some windowless room and questioned by big burly mages. I knew that if they discovered quitehow muchunsanctioned magic I’d been involved in, they’d lock me up and I’d never see daylight again.
I’ve no idea how accurate any of those fears were. Those that followed The Path tended to be human, so I didn’t have anyone to ask.
I’m fully registered now, though. If I’d known it was as simple as Elara filling in a form online for me, who knows how different things could have been. Maybe I could have got out earlier.
My legs still feel numb and weirdly shaky as I head back to my grotty apartment. It’s only once I get inside I remember that I have no food in the fridge and my oven is busted until I can try to cajole it into working again.
Too tired to do anything about it now, I shove my feet back into the sneakers I just kicked off and grab the tiny stash of cash I have saved up. I can afford takeout tonight and maybe tomorrow, and then I really need to get groceries.
Willow Ridge is quiet as I wander through the streets toward the little diner. We’re hidden out the way, too far from any major cities for anyone to bother with. There’s Shadwell, a small city, located about forty-five minutes away, and even that’s mostly just used as a stopgap for people heading to bigger and better places.
We have a single takeout place that does everything so long as you’re looking for something bland yet greasy. There’s also a diner, a pub on main street, a doctor's office, Grizz’s, and a grocery store. Not a lot, but it’s enough to get by.
Provided you don’t want any entertainment or excitement, that is.
As I’m waiting for my order at the diner, I spot Mrs McClusky making a beeline for me. While most people in town stay out of each other’s business, Mrs M is an unfortunate exception. She pops into the shop about once a week, bringing me items that are always impossible to fix and telling me all about the virtues of her adult son.
Unfortunately, there’s no time for me to duck out of sight, or maybe make myself invisible. I brace myself for another unpleasant encounter.
She aims a wide smile at me. “Sinjin, I’m so glad I caught you. Did I see that woman head into your shop earlier? She came into the supermarket too, looking for salvation.”
“Not salvation, Mrs McClusky. She was looking for a saint or something,” Ally, the young woman working behind the counter, says. She’s bright and bubbly and doesn’t seem remotely embarassed that she’s eavesdropping on our conversation.
Mrs McClusky sniffs derisively. “I wonder if that means the band are looking for someone to absolve them of their sins. I’m sure they’re numerous.”
I stare at her blankly. “Can’t say I know what you’re talking about. Sorry, Mrs McClusky.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “Rockers, Sinjin. Tattooed, sin worshippers. You want to be careful mixing with those sorts.”
“It must be so cool working with the band, though. Too bad she didn’t ask me to find her a saint or I could have tried really hard to find someone for her. I’d do just about anything to see them in person.”
This entire conversation feels like it’s happening in a foreign language, something that must be clear from my expression as Ally beams at me.
“Oh my stars, didn’t you hear, Sin? Orpheus Underground are in Shadwell tonight. We’re heading over tonight to see if we can catch a glimpse.”
“You’ll catch more than a glimpse if you get too close to those rocker types,” Mrs McClusky says. “You too, Sinjin. Be careful about fraternizing with people like that.”
I stare at her, confused as hell. I’ve heard of Orpheus Underground, of course. They’re a metal band, made up of so-called ‘monsters’. And while we’re supposedly a mixed society of supernaturals and humans, it’s still rare to see a Minotaur grabbing milk, or a centaur walking out of the dentists.
There are certain... tensions between humans and supes, and between some supe groups. Despite that, Orpheus Underground are crazy popular. I think they’ve sold a couple hundred million records or something and people go nuts over them.
“What has Orpheus Underground got to do with me?” I ask.
Mrs McClusky frowns at me and reaches out to pat my hand. “Well, like I was saying, I saw their manager come over to you earlier today, dear. Did she not manage to catch you, or did you have too much on to see her?” Her expression and tone are innocent, but the back of my neck tingles.
Their... manager. I pause, pulling the forgotten business card from my pocket and feeling slightly dazed. I probably should have looked at it immediately, but I was too busy having a mental breakdown and acting like our interaction never happened.
That’s me. Always good at sticking my head in the sand.
When I finally read the card, things start to slot into place.
