Page 47 of Magick and Lead
“Dancing,” he said.
“I love dancing.”
“Not this kind,” he said.
I stopped short, hand on my hip. “You assume you know everything I want?”
He sighed, staring up at the sky as if looking for divine help. “Is everything going to be a fight with you?”
“Yes,” I said.
Charlie glared at me.
I glared at him.
Then he smiled, shaking his head, and offered me his arm. “Fine. I’d rather fight with you than miss you any day. Come on.”
The clothing store he led me to was nothing like the tailor’s shops in Maethalia, where there might be one or two outfits on display and the tailors would custom-make your clothes based on those designs. Here, hundreds of dresses, blouses, trousers, and coats were already finished and hung on display. I walked up and down the racks, in awe.
“Were these made with necromantic power?” I asked Charlie.
He gave a pained smile to an older woman who glanced over at us. “If you mean by sewing machines running on electricity,” he whispered, “then yes.”
I released the lovely midnight blue dress I’d been fondling.
“I don’t want to wear them, then.”
Charlie leaned close to me, so that we were almost cheek-to-cheek. “Essa. All the clothes here are made in factories. Or at least, all the clothes that will help you fit in at a dance hall. You’re going to have to be flexible.”
I met his ocean blue eyes.Flexible?I wanted to say.I’m a queen.To garb myself in something made by necromancy would not only violate the edicts of the Earth Mother, it would beprofoundly bad luck, almost as bad as dousing oneself in scrying water. I might as well invite the beasts of the void to crawl all over me.
And yet…
I had to remind myself this was his city, not mine.
And I was acting as an agent, moving among the enemy in secret. Charlie had done the same thing when he’d been with me in Maethalia, hadn’t he? How many strange and uncomfortable things had he endured as my guest? He’d even stepped into the Hatchery, home to over a hundred dragons—despite spending his career as a dragon fighter. If he could do that, I should be able to wear one of these dresses.
I glanced around. None of the other women in the shop seemed to be suffering any negative effects from their ill-gotten clothing. And though fashion here was completely different than at home in Maethalia, I could tell I was in the right place. The women around us all had the snooty, aloof bearing of noble women, and the clerks watched me with a strange mixture of interest and bemusement as I traveled from rack to rack, tracing sleeves with my fingers and holding up dresses to examine. The gowns were all beautiful, though they seemed awfully sheer and lightweight—almost like faecloth. I held up one, a beaded sheath of fabric with thin straps.
“That’s a pretty one,” Charlie said.
“I didn’t ask,” I shot back.
He rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh.
I smiled. If I couldn’t kill him, the least I could do was needle him a bit.
“Can I help you find anything?” one of the tailor’s assistants asked, sidling over to us.
From the looks of the other two clerks standing behind the counter, I guessed she’d drawn the short lot and been forced to come and wait on us.
I frowned at the dress. “This is too light. Do you have anything with thicker fabric? Something that might turn away a blade?”
“No—that’s…” Charlie whispered, shaking his head.
The shop girl gave a musical giggle. “A blade? Oh my, girl. You’re a hoot. What’s your name?”
“Ess—” I started to say, then stopped myself. I knew the names of the Admite president, the first lady, and quite a few members of Congress. It was possible I was known to people over here, and whispers of a strange girl called Essaphine wandering around Ironberg wouldn’t exactly help me stay undercover. I still wore the fake hand with the glove on it, held in place by the sling, so hopefully, people shouldn’t realize right away that I had only one arm. But still, I had to be careful.
