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“They’re very good.”
“They are.”
“They do this…” he looked around the packed subway car. “here?”
“Yep.”
“In a moving metal carriage.”
“Welcome to New York.”
“Remarkable.” He watched as one dancer vaulted over two backpacks without touching either of them.
She smiled at the wonder in his voice. She’d grown up with subway performers, musicians filling station platforms and train cars with songs that had become just another part of everyday life. She’d long since stopped thinking twice about them. But seeing the city through Asterion’s eyes made her notice it all over again.
By the time they emerged from the subway, the streets of the Village were alive with the usual evening crowd. Ria pulled out her phone and opened the maps app. “We should only be a few blocks away,” she said, studying the blue dot as it moved with them.
He fell into step beside her as they wound through narrow streets lined with brick buildings and leafy trees. The city gradually grew quieter, the constant roar of traffic fading into conversation and laughter drifting from restaurants.
“There,” she said, pointing across the street.
The tattoo shop had colorful designs displayed in the window and a simple neon sign glowing through the glass. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it. She would have walked right past without a second glance.
Asterion’s eyes narrowed as he studied the storefront. “Do you feel that?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, she let herself breathe, really breathe. Almost immediately, the familiar currents of magic brushed against her senses. They weren’t loud or threatening, just subtly present, humming beneath the surface of the building like an unseen heartbeat. After a moment, she opened her eyes and gave a slow, satisfied nod. “I do.”
His gaze swept the street. “Most of the humans don’t seem to notice.”
“They won’t,” she said. “The wards are meant to be ignored. Anyone without magic would just see a tattoo shop.
“Well,” she said, glancing up at him, “let’s go meet a tattoo artist.”
With the soft chime of a bell, they stepped inside. The steady buzz of tattoo machines filled the shop, blending with low conversation and classic rock drifting from hidden speakers. The space smelled faintly of disinfectant, fresh ink, and something sweeter underneath that Ria couldn’t quite place. Framed artwork covered the exposed brick walls, everything from intricate dragons and botanical sleeves to geometric sigils that looked suspiciously like real wards disguised as decorative designs.
To anyone else, it was an upscale tattoo studio, but to Ria, it felt like standing inside a spell. Magic threaded through every corner of the room. It seeped from the tattoo inks lined neatly on the shelves, lingered in the needles soaking in sterilizing trays, and clung to sketches pinned to corkboards behind the artists. Even the floor beneath her feet hummed faintly with old enchantments.
Three tattoo artists were busy at work. One carefully shaded the feathers of a raven stretching across a woman’s shoulder blade, while another chatted casually with a nervous-looking college student who appeared to be getting his very first tattoo. A third leaned over a heavily muscled man, and for the briefest heartbeat, Ria could have sworn the intricate sleeve shimmered with magic before settling back into what looked like ordinary black ink.
As her gaze swept across the shop, it landed on a woman sitting behind the reception counter, lazily flipping through a magazine. At first glance, she looked completely human, young, with dark hair and a leather jacket. But the longer Ria looked, the more certain she became that something wasn’t quite right.
The edges of her movements blurred ever so slightly, as though her body occupied two places at once before settling back into one. When she turned a page, her fingers seemed to leave behind a faint afterimage that vanished before Ria could be certain she’d actually seen it.
Ria glanced sideways and found Asterion staring at the woman as intently as she had. Their eyes met briefly, and without exchanging a single word, they crossed the space together. The woman didn’t bother looking up from her magazine.
“How can I help you?” Her voice was pleasant enough, though distracted.
Ria rested her hands lightly on the counter. “We’re looking for Dorian.”
The woman finally looked up at them, a perfectly pleasant smile settling across her face. It should have been reassuring, but something about it felt off. Then Ria met her gaze and understood why. The woman’s eyes weren’t human. Instead of irises, they contained shifting ribbons of silver and violet. For just an instant, Ria caught the impression of countless tiny reflections moving beneath the surface before the colors settled again.
The woman closed the magazine. “I’m afraid Dorian isn’t here.”
“Then why don’t you tell us where he is?” Asterion crossed his arms.
“My, my,” a slow smile spread across her face. “Straight to business.” Her strange eyes flicked between the two of them. “And here I was hoping we’d at least pretend this was a social visit first.”
Ria slipped a hand into the pocket of her jacket and withdrew a small bronze token no bigger than a silver dollar. One side bore the image of a crescent moon intertwined with three crossed keys. The other was etched with a labyrinthine wheel that seemed to shift ever so slightly when it caught the light. Without a word, she placed it on the counter.
