Foxheart

Chapter Fourteen

'You certain you didn't screw her?' Elenore asked not for the first time as they made their way through the crowded and very loud market place in Broadstreet not far from his small home.

'Yeah. I'm sure. Pretty certain I'd remember, especially as she was a bloody fox the whole night.' Fox earned a cuff round the head from the sarcasm dripping from his voice. He glared at her and rubbed his head, annoyed. He hated how fixated she was on that assumption of hers but he thought he was getting through.

'You serious about that? About her turning into a fox?'

'Yes.' Fox stressed. 'She turned into one. She's cursed.'

Elenore hummed and bit her full pink lip. 'Maybe this Denver person caught Dupont in the act. Tried to subdue her and keep her from using magic.'

Fox tried not to care either way but a little voice in his head told him Denver was the threat, not Dupont. So far, Dupont was harmless. She huffed and puffed and paraded about but she hadn't tried to hurt him. He wasn't going to push her to find out he was wrong though. Could be she's just been in a nice mood these last couple of days.

He shrugged. 'Thought you said it don't matter?'

Elenore flushed. 'And it don't. The Eye does.'

And finally she dropped the subject of Dupont. Fox breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't need repeat himself again and defend himself. Yes, Dupont was a little bit attractive to him in a foreign way and yes, he was tempted when he saw her naked on his bed, showing handfuls her pale flesh in the morning light where his blankets failed to cover her, but he'd never fall that low. A Wizard was someone he'd never chase and his pride was greater than his lust.

The pair picked out old clothes and food throughout the Sunday Farmer's Market, haggling as best as they could to get the best prices. They had little money on them, Fox especially after his first spend. He was annoyed those clothes were long lost now.

Fox was standing beside Elenore, trying to huddle beneath the shadow of a tree, as Elenore was arguing of the price of some edam cheese, trying her best to haggle it down and not getting much headway, as he watched the crowd. He was uncomfortable and not from the sweat and heat. Slipping through the swarm of poor and sweaty folk of Lakeside were Wizards. They weren't standard Wizards. Normal ones were dressed like any other person. He knew they were not just from how the poor-folk parted and kept their distance but their attire. They wore robed suits white as the Ivory Tower itself with deep black undershirts and perched on their pompous heads were the traditional Wizarding hats marked with the Tower's black sigil. These Wizards were the Tower's Hunters; seekers and policemen of illegal magic and criminal Wizards. And there were way too many of them. Just from were he stood, he could spot three and the Market was massive. There were going to be more here.

Fox scowled at one particular one, a tall haughty man who flowed through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. His eyes were seeking and scowled at every man and woman with firm judgement. Fox didn't like how he stopped particular young men now and then and spoke to them before he flashed a blue spell. They always had red hair.

'Crap.' Fox hissed. He realised he was being hunted. The Denver woman didn't remember his face or knew his name but she remembered his hair. Luckily it was a common colour but it would only be a matter of time before they found him and checked his memory or forced out the truth. He needed to get out of the market. Now.

Fox turned to the neighbouring stool and gestured to the tatty hunting cap on display. 'How much gov?'

'Twenty coppers.' The gruff old man replied snappishly.