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Kell never noticed the faint aromatic scent of Red London clinging to his clothes, but whenever he traveled, someone invariably told him that he smelled like freshly cut flowers. Some said tulips. Others stargazers. Chrysanthemums. Peonies. To the king of England, it was always roses.
He could smell Grey London (smoke) and White London (blood), but to him, Red London simply smelled like home.
Grey for the magic-less city. Red, for the healthy empire. White, for the starving world.
but men who waded into waters claiming they could swim should not need a raft.
It was a voice like a shadow in the woods at night. Quiet and dark and cold.
A life worth having is a life worth taking.
“By the way, did you know that your coat is more than one coat? I’m pretty sure I went through five or six to find that.”
“There are four worlds,” he said. “Think of them as different houses built on the same foundation. They have little in common, save for their geography, and the fact that each has a version of this city straddling this river on this island country, and in each, that city is called London.”
What child didn’t wish to know if his bedtime stories were the stuff of fiction or of truth?
Was her bravado a front, or did she truly have so little to lose? But she had a life, and a life was a thing that could always be lost. How could she fear nothing, even death?
“I’d rather die on an adventure than live standing still.”
The wall gave way, and the traveler and the thief stepped forward and through.
“Love doesn’t keep us from freezing to death, Kell,” she continued, “or starving, or being knifed for the coins in our pocket. Love doesn’t buy us anything, so be glad for what you have and who you have because you may want for things but you need for nothing.”
“I warned you, magic is not about balance. It is about dominance. You control it, or it controls you.”
“The ones who think they’re ready always end up dead.”
“How did you know she wasn’t me?” Kell managed an exhausted smile. “Because she said please.”
“Between the two of us, we’ll tear the whole world down.”
He would see her again. He knew he would. Magic bent the world. Pulled it into shape. There were fixed points. Most of the time those points were places. But sometimes, rarely, they were people.
