Magic and Loss: A Novel of Golgotham Read Online Free PDF Page B

control. That means possessing both will and vision. Anyone who could turn a car transmission into a fully articulated panther, even
before
it was brought to life, will rock out at being a wizard. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll put Scratch on night patrol for the time being. Now drink up,” he said, pushing a steaming cup of tea into my hands. “This will ease your stomach and settle your nerves.”
    Just then Beanie scratched at the kitchen door and began to do his “gotta pee” dance. I opened the door and followed him out onto the back porch, hoping the night air would clear my mind. I wrapped my hands around the steaming cup of tea, savoring its warmth, as I looked out across the garden. My eye automatically strayed to the copper “maternal furnace” I had unwittingly built for Uncle Esau, which now sat in the far corner of the yard, its copper dragon’s head pointed at the night sky, as if baying at the moon. Where once it hatched murderous, bird-footed homunculi, now it simply composted lawn clippings.
    Beanie came bounding toward the door, ready to get out of the chill night air now that he’d relieved himself. I finished my tea and followed him inside. I peeked into the study and saw Hexe peering at one of Bartho’s cameras through a teardrop-shaped scrying crystal, just like a jeweler studying the cleavage plane on a diamond.
    “Don’t stay up
too
late,” I said, kissing him good night.
    “Love you, too,” he replied absently, not taking his eyes off his work.
    Beanie ran up the stairs ahead of me, and upon reaching the second floor landing, he turned around and stared back down at me, his little Boston terrier head tilted to one side, as if to say “What’s keeping you, Mom?”
    As I crawled into bed, Beanie hopped in after me, burrowing under the covers like he was going after a vole. I heard the eaves outside the bedroom window groan ever-so-slightly, as Scratch, dressed in a far fiercer skin than the one he wore earlier that day, prowled about the rooftop, keeping watch for the things that go bump in the night.
    •   •   •
    One of the downsides of being an apprentice is that you do a lot of scut work. If a chore is trivial, tedious, or unpleasant, you can rely on your master to assign it to you. In this case, I was to pick up Canterbury’s new suit from his tailor.
    Before moving to Golgotham it had never occurred to me that centaurs were into couture. In fact, I had assumed what clothing they did wear was more for our modesty than theirs. Boy, did I get schooled. Turns out centaurs, male and female alike, are the biggest
fashionistas
this side of the Garment District.
    While centaurs do tend toward minimal dressage while at work, once they’re off the clock they like to dress to the nines in fancy jackets and vests, with matching ornamental caparisons that drape over their hindquarters. Oh, and they are absolutely
mental
for hats, the more elaborate the better. When they’re not busy at work—and centaurs are easily the most industrious race to be found in Golgotham—they can be found swanning about the Hippodrome or the Clip-Clop Club, showing off their newest duds.
    I guess the reason centaurs are so fashion-conscious is because
everything
they wear has to be either custom-made or retrofitted. There’s no such thing as buying off-the-rack when your top half is a size six and your bottom half is a size horse. That means every centaur worth their oats has a personal tailor. Canterbury’s happened to be Rienzi, who worked out of a stall in the oldest open-air market still operating in New York City.
    The Fly Market, located inside an Industrial Gothic loggia with an iron-clad roof and brick porticos, is alive, in its way. And like all living things, it is constantly growing and changing. There are literally hundreds of stalls inside it, and just when I think I have a grip on who runs what, or what stall belongs where, everything seems to up and move about, if for no other