After the War: A Novella of the Golden City by J. Kathleen Cheney Page B

stories?”
    Halfway across the square to the church now, Gaspar stopped and said, “My wife is half fairy, son. We don’t have to believe. We know .”
    Markovich surveyed the men gathered around him, mouth agape. “You’re serious? All of you?”
    “If you grow up knowing they exist,” Miguel told him calmly, “there’s nothing strange about it. Everyone believes sereia exist. Why should fairies be any different?”
    Markovich gazed at Miguel with disbelief. “Who are you?”
    “My son,” Rafael inserted, giving Markovich a warning thump on his back.
    Gaspar had returned to sniffing the air.
    “Miguel, do you recall where the portal was supposed to be?” Joaquim asked then. “I’m not having any luck finding her.”
    “I don’t, sir,” Miguel said.
    Alejandro scowled. Miguel had picked a terrible tidbit not to remember. He wanted to scream with frustration, but held it in. If he had his own gift, perhaps he would already be at Serafina’s side. He couldn’t blame Miguel.
    Inspector Gaspar stood at one corner of the square now, head tilted back. Alejandro started toward him, hoping that Gaspar knew something . “Can you smell the portal, sir?”
    “I’ll need to get farther away from the remnants in the square,” Gaspar said, “but I think this is the direction to go.”
    Alejandro went to join him, Joaquim and the others following, but Gaspar waved them back. “I need you to keep your distance. Especially you, Markovich. Your smells confuse the air.”
    Alejandro stopped where he was. Joaquim limped to stand next to him, the others spreading out about them.
    “What is that man doing?” Markovich asked peevishly.
    Joaquim sighed. “You are looking at the meter , son. You are seeing a magic so rare that God chose to give the world only one. He makes you look commonplace.”
    Apparently swayed by Joaquim’s reverent tone, Markovich made his next comment softer. “He’s a meter?”
    “No,” Joaquim said. “He’s the meter. The only one.”
    “There have been meters before,” Markovich objected.
    “And they have all been him, ” Joaquim said softly.
    Markovich gave Joaquim a disbelieving look. “You can’t be serious. He’s sniffing the air like a dog.”
    “Because he smells magic. I assume fairy magic has a different smell than human magic.”
    Gaspar had begun to walk along the sidewalk into the town
—
toward the Leça River. Alejandro followed, not interested in the academic discussion of Gaspar’s abilities. Miguel limped at his side, unusually quiet, with Roberto on the other side. Alejandro noted that Miguel’s limp was growing more marked. His lips were pressed in a thin line. “Will you make it there, Miguel?”
    “If I have to crawl,” Miguel snapped.
    “You’ll make it there,” Roberto promised. “I’ll see to it.”
    Gaspar turned down a side street, heading directly for what appeared to be a stable, and Alejandro knew that was the place. He ran across the cobbled courtyard, passing Gaspar and reaching the doors before any of the others.
    “Careful!” Miguel yelled.
    Alejandro flung the doors open, looking for Serafina. Instead, he saw a dozen carriage horses milling about inside. They wheeled about and ran straight at him to escape the stable.
    Alejandro dove out of the way. He hit the wet cobbles of the stable’s yard hard. Hooves clattered about him on the stone, terrifying in their closeness. His breath held; Alejandro tucked his arms about his head, making himself as small as possible. The beasts jumped over him, hooves hitting his back with thumps that jarred throughout his body.
    “Jandro!” someone cried out.
    For a moment, Alejandro just breathed. Other voices were calling out now, and the hooves sounded far away. He slowly uncurled, cringing when something in the vicinity of his ribs gave a sharp twinge of pain. Stupid . He tried to push himself off the ground, but the pain in his ribs told him that wouldn’t work.
    Gaspar was at his side then,