Pepper / INK /

Moon week

He charged to the cutout at the end of the block knowing that was where Daniel would have gone to travel by magic. He must have been tired, not trusting himself to drive. Probably didn’t even remember he had his bike there, he did tend to forget it when he was tired, he always had.

Max knew the habit of walking or locating was from not having a vehicle when he was younger. Being forbidden to use a magic conveyance during his training would have meant a lot of walking, a habit he had never gotten out of. But then he would find himself in a desperate spot and locate, or he would have to dodge the necromancers.

Finally Max found the cutout, walking across it until he found what was left of the crescent moon that passed for an Alchemists circle for Daniel. Because of his position, and his training, and because of the ink itself, Daniel himself, was part of the alchemic circle. The moon was, in reality just a focus point for him. All he had to do was touch his hands together and think the spell. Though they called it ’wishing’. Mainly because of the force of will it took to use that technique.

When he was weak, injured or tired, he would draw a crescent moon, a focus point, something that he could center his thoughts on to keep them from wondering when he made the spell. It was also a grounding of sorts, so he remembered who he was, what he was and how he was able to travel.

Max wasn’t good at casting, but he was very good at Locating, always had been. And he had an ability that most other alchemists didn’t, he could track a man by touching their circle. Not just tell you who they were by seeing the lines and symbols they used, but he could actually ride the wake of their magic. Or as it was called, "Jumping their moonbeam." He could do it imperfectly with solars, but Lunars he could jump any place they had located to.

He didn’t know that he could do it better with Daniel than any other. The majority of his life was still a faded memory, a picture draped in fog that obscured the finer details.

He put his hands to the points of the moon like Daniel would have and closed his eyes. Daniel needed no spoken words, Max only did because he barely remembered how to do it. He cleared his mind concentrating on the song of the moon. And then he spoke. Half remembered words came to him, but somehow he knew they were right. "Light of the moon, song of the night, let me follow, let my sworn charge be clear to me, Take me to the Inkwalker."

He didn’t even really stop to think about things, to ask himself why he thought he could cast magic. All he knew, and the only thought in his mind was that he had to save Daniel, even if it was from his own stupidity. He had to find him. He had to tell him he was sorry. That he shouldn’t have run away all those years ago. That he didn’t want to hurt his friend, that he didn’t really blame him for his parent’s death, not anymore... but that was what the fight had been about. He knew it in an instant and had to pull himself out of the memory in order to use the spell.

The world didn’t just go dim like it usually did when you located yourself. That was like walking through a silver fog. This was a different type of location. The world wrenched violently out of place dropping him hard on the dirt, he scraped his hands on the landing. And when the moonlight and dust had cleared he could see a heap laying in the dirt of another cutout a couple blocks from where they had been.

Daniel wasn’t just out cold, he was barely breathing and his skin was cold to the touch, and he was laying on his face. He wasn’t a large man, but the ’mass’ of the Ink was making it harder for him to breathe in that position. He had used far too much energy. He didn’t have enough left for both himself and his ink. The tattoos were moving writhing trying to detach but afraid to because without protection it could kill him.

Max touched his hands together a moment. "Grant me the strength of Ursus," he said before attempting to pick up his friend’s frail form. Even though his friend was light, carrying him was hard, it always had been. The Ink, though it weighed nothing added weight in a way that was hard to explain. It was as if he had to also carry all the weight of the magic and the justice that his friend could dish out. Magic didn’t like to be moved. Especially not the ink. But the tattoos warmed under his touch, and he could feel the body grow lighter in his arms.

He hummed the song of moonlight, gathering himself, and carried his friend back to the jeep. Daniel kept both a car and a motorcycle. The motorcycle was at the Dragon’s Horde right now. Max didn’t dare locate, not right now. Not with Daniel so close to dying. The dislocation of a Location Spell might just kill him. Max knew he couldn’t take his own car, it was too recognizable, he’d leave it parked in front of the bar. So he carried him the extra couple blocks to the Illustrated man and put him in the passenger seat of the Jeep. The top was down, and that meant he could get moonlight.

He stopped to prime the steam engine, and make sure that it was fueled, as Daniel often forgot fuel until the last minute.

Through the walk he paused often to check the pulse, humming under his breath the song of the moon, willing the moonlight to gather around them. He didn’t pay attention to the others, but all who saw him stopped and started to sing. This was an Inkwalker and he was in serious danger. If he didn’t get home now he would die here, and there would be no one to protect them from the Necromancers.

Voice upon voice joined the song as Max passed to his car, and then on and on as he drove through the districts to where his friend lived. A decade ago he would have called the car a relic. But right now he was glad the man had it and not one of the new hover-cars that ran on magic. He barely had enough magic to help his friend he wouldn’t have been able to move both of them with magic.

By now, with the car running, the moonlight was gathering around them, causing anything imbued with magic to glow as they rolled on towards the house Max hadn’t seen since he left the city. The house where he had lived when he was a child. The Inkwalker’s favorite house was on Full moon lane, and it was surrounded by walkways, pillars and small gardens that cast light into the house all night long.

Periodically he would reach over to make sure Daniel was ok, hands searching for a pulse.

"Light of the moon, help him." That was his prayer, his mantra as he drove to a house that he hadn’t been to in nearly a decade. "Please Daniel, hang on."

#

The Inkwalker’s house was typical lunar, hilltop, all white stone and glass, lots of flat surface and cool lines, a blue stripe that almost looked like water lit up the drive as they approached, and the sight jogged Max’s memory even more. It was moon-lighting. Made to gather and channel moon light. It traveled under the garage door, and Max looked up to the top of the jeep, and there on the visor was a rune for ’open’ and he touched it. The garage door folded itself up away from the car. He pulled in as far as he dared and hit the button again. In the darkness was the sigil for ’moonlight’ so he touched it, and the moon lamps came on to full power bathing the room in a blue-white light that felt right.

Max had to practically carry Daniel out of the car, and he helped undress him carefully. He drew a bath and put him in the water with the herbs before speaking the seven prayers that would let the ink fade off of him.

There was a second of panic when the water roiled and bubbled as if it was boiling, but Daniel seemed to be in no pain, so he had to continue. The bottle was still in the moonlight on the window sill, and Max picked it up and spoke the prayer seven times, dipping the open bottle under the water at the end of each prayer. When he raised the bottle the seventh time it was heavy, and there was a rune on the outside that glowed bright blue-white. He put the moon quartz stopper back in and placed it back in the window sill. He left Daniel in the warm water to soak and bask in the moonlight, having the ink off should help, the tub was reflective and the water should soothe him a bit. He’d come back to check on him in a while. He wouldn’t have left him alone except that he knew the tub was imbued with the same strange magic as the Grotto, it would not allow the Inkwalker to drown, no matter how far under the water he might sink.

Max went to make dinner. He knew that Daniel needed food, and he needed it fast. The dish he made was very hearty, a steak, he wasn’t sure what kind, he thought it might be deer or one of the larger prairie animals that tended to come into the city in the dry times. A few years ago a small heard of them wandered into the city and they had been domesticated ever since.

It looked like he had been subsisting on the take away from the local Tandoor. Which, while delicious couldn’t beat a hearty meal of steak. Daniel had always been very Western in his attire and his choices in food. Though he loved the local cuisine he would never turn his nose up at the traditional Western dishes.

Max didn’t change the lights over, and was surprised that he seemed as comfortable in moon lighting as he was in regular gaslight. He bustled around the kitchen making a hearty meal, meat and vegetables, and then he went to go check on Daniel, he was afraid for a moment when he went into the bathroom and couldn’t find him, a few minutes later he found Daniel in his robe sitting on one of the rugs in his front room praying. He waited till the obligations were done before bringing out the meal.

"I hope you don’t mind." Max said. He prayed he hadn’t overstepped, but it felt so right.

"No, not at all. Make yourself at home."

"I want to be your Guardian, officially." Max said as he settled both trays of food down. "You need someone to watch your back. Ay Dede knows you don’t."

"I can’t afford to, Damien is back. And I have not felt safe enough to sleep, and when I did, I didn’t sleep well, I had waited far too long."

"Then eat dinner and sleep. Sleep all night and know you are safe. By the moon, and the pale light it casts, I will be your guardian, to protect you when you cannot protect yourself, Ay Dede himself is my witness. I will save you from yourself, and remind you of your duty when you forget. And I will signify this by the giving of blood, to take a tattoo at the time of the Inkwalker’s choosing," Max said before he popped the first piece of meat into his mouth. "Now, with that settled, let’s get you fed and asleep and if you skip more than two days over the next ten I will kick your göt, the Ink is my witness."

"It would probably help you." Daniel said with a dry laugh. The ink worried about him like an old friend. He’d been bonded to it for over a hundred years. And it worried sometimes that its own needs would kill him. But he knew the risk.

Daniel looked like a starvation victim. He was thinner and weaker than Max had ever seen him before. The two ate and talked, and Max even got up and cooked him a second helping because he looked so thin. An Inkwalker who was out of power could replace some of it by eating. But they could not hope to keep up with the needs of themselves and the ink just with food. He needed to lay down and bask in the moon light and let it heal and restore him. If Max knew where it was he would take Daniel to his mağara, his grotto, but that knowledge had died with his parents maybe someday he would find it again.

Max stayed the rest of the night, making sure that Daniel slept until the sun was up. The house was in ’day’ mode when Daniel awoke.

There was a small flake of moon crystal on the bedside table, and he picked it up, cupping it in his hands. Max’s voice came from it. "Sorry about the message machine, but I got called in very early and you needed the sleep, I put the house in day mode, breakfast is waiting for you in the oven, I put a charm on it so it can’t burn, see you later today, and try not to use up all your energy before tonight. You don’t have access to your grotto."

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Next Chapter: The Reaper And Bran