“We could sell magic. Do spells at the requests of our customers.” Camille said to Ava as they rode through the town at a leisurely pace.
“Mila, don’t you know the reputation that paid magic users have? They’re like mercenaries. They’re distasteful creatures, always motivated first and foremost by the price that they set. Loyal only to their pockets.” Ava sighed. “Besides, I’d have to be the front of that little operation. Men can’t rightly do magic, remember?”
“I know, Ava. But what else can I do?”
Camille stared at the stands and buildings as the morning clouds obscured the new sun as they always did, casting a lethargic shade of grey over the town. Even though the day had hardly begun, the people were already busy at work, making the most of the daylight and the less crowded streets to go about preparing for the day’s labor.
“I don’t know. What else are you good at?” she asked.
“I’m good at magic. And embroidery. I can read and write well, and I have some potential for illuminating. But that’s about everything I’ve had the chance to learn. Women’s craft, nearly all of it.”
Ava shook her head, unable to make anything of his talents, either. “We could turn to thieving, I guess. It feels bad in a different way than selling magic. More desperate, more necessary, maybe, and less slimy.”
“No, I wouldn’t be good at thieving.”
A bird landed in the shadows, fluttering its wings and drawing Camille’s attention. It devoured a smaller bird there, tearing succulent pieces of flesh from the breast and spilling the entrails onto the dirt. The scent of blood filled Camille’s senses briefly, overpowering and inexplicable. He shook the memory from his mind, and the illusion of the smell disappeared.
The bird flew away. Behind it lay a pair of reddened white wings, joined by what remained of a few tendons and bones.
“For me, there’s always finding my old brothel again.” Ava said, suddenly. “The form of work that always exists for women. They’d have me, even if no one else would.” She avoided Camille’s eyes.
“Is there anything like that for men?” Camille asked, feeling a little hurt.
“You could always enlist.” Ava said dryly, pointing at a nearby sign on a wall.
