The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [71]
“He means this.” Travis pressed his hand against the retaining wall and muttered Krond several times, until a comforting warmth radiated from the hot cement.
Jay's eyes bulged from their sockets. “For the love of Pete, how did you do that?”
“The same way I started the fire last night.”
“I thought that was just a trick. You know, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat.” Jay clamped his hat tighter on his head, as if the force of his surprise might send it flying. “I didn't know you really could do magic.”
Travis glanced at Marty, but the tall man appeared as placid as ever. “Now you do.”
“Man, that feels good.” Jay held his bare hands close to the wall. “I've got to tell someone about this.”
“Don't,” Travis said.
He hadn't meant the word to sound so harsh. However, Jay took a startled step back. Even Marty raised his eyebrows.
“Sure, man,” Jay said, holding up his hands. “Whatever you want. Just don't do anything crazy.”
Travis cringed. “No, I didn't mean it like that. I won't do anything to . . . I won't hurt you.”
“I know you won't,” Jay said, but all the while as they finished gathering their things, his small eyes kept flicking in Travis's direction.
“It didn't snow last night,” Marty said, shouldering his frayed backpack. “Sparky will be at Civic Center.”
“This early?” Travis said.
“He likes to watch the sunrise.”
“Like I told you, he's a goddamn loon,” Jay said. The little man wasn't carrying anything; he had stowed his blanket in Marty's pack. “But if we're going to go, then let's go. Do you have any money, Mr. Wizard?”
Travis shook his head. He had spent his last three dollars at the bar.
Jay snorted. “Now why doesn't that surprise me? Well, you provided the heater last night, so I'll buy us all a cup of coffee on the way. Then we'll call it even.”
Despite his weariness, Travis couldn't help grinning. He didn't know these men, and he doubted they were trustworthy, but all the same it was good not to be alone in the world. In this world. The two men started up the embankment, Jay taking two steps for each one of Marty's lanky strides, and Travis followed after them.
19.
As promised, Jay bought them all Styrofoam cups of coffee at a street vendor's cart at Colfax and Broadway, and they walked beneath a neoclassical colonnade into the broad circle of Civic Center Park just as the sun set fire to the gold-plated dome of the Capitol building.
“It looks like Tarras,” Travis murmured, shading his eyes against the fiery glare of the dome.
“It looks like what?” Jay said, squinting at him.
Travis shook his head. “Nothing.” He glanced at Marty. “Do you see your friend?”
“Hell's bells, I told you he's not our friend,” Jay said. His pudgy hand tightened around his cup, so that coffee shot out the hole in the lid.
“I think he's over there,” Marty said. He started across the brown grass, moving fast on his scarecrow legs, so that Travis had to march briskly to keep up, while Jay was forced to break into a terrier-like trot.
Travis saw him when they were halfway across the park. He had positioned his wheelchair in a patch of sunlight, and he basked in the morning radiance, eyes closed. They came to a stop before him, but he didn't open his eyes. He was a grizzled man, about fifty years old. His body was a shapeless lump wrapped in a canvas coat over multiple sweaters, and his legs were short stumps ending at mid thigh, each one covered with a Denver Broncos knit ski cap that matched the one on his head. A metal box with a profusion of dials and knobs rested on his lap. It emitted a low hiss of static.
“Hey, Sparky,” Jay said. “What's up?”
“The sun,” the man in the wheelchair said, a crooked-toothed grin showing through his matted beard.
Jay scowled at him. “So I noticed.”
“Did you?” the man replied, his eyes still shut. “Then you're a smart man, Jay. It took the writings of Galileo to finally convince the world once and for all that it was not the sun that rose in the sky, but rather the Earth that was turning as it revolved around the sun. And even then