A Favor for a Favor Who: Nate and Ezra When: Late morning Where: Just outside Cosmic Comics, then a French restaurant
Nate had woken that morning a bit sore, but determined not to spend the morning lounging in bed. Not that his grandmother would let him anyway. The sound of cats outside his window was enough to get him moving, and after re-bandaging some of his fresher cuts on his arms, Nate dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and a wrinkled long sleeve shirt before he grabbed his keys, not bothering with breakfast since it was so close to lunch time anyway. He drove to the comic book store, and went inside, wandering for awhile as he tried to find something decent to buy. Some of his wounds had begun to scab over, making them itchy, and he scratched them absently through his shirt as his eyes skimmed over the new releases. It took longer than he would have liked, but he settled on 30 Days of Night. Nothing like a bloody vampire comic to read over a greasy burger and fries.
Having ghosts wandering around town under instructions to inform him about young magic-users of his type wasn't something other witches had, and it gave Ezra an edge. It also gave him moments of giddiness when he was told of a new witch who seemed malleable and potentially useful. What the ghost of the navy captain had told him the night before was nearly enough to make him forget about the tentative black witch Danny, give up on him as useless, because the navy captain had found him a blood mage. Young, relatively untrained, and vulnerable-- though Ezra knew better than to say such things to the boy's face.
So when the boy, Nathaniel Liddel, went out that morning, so did Ezra. And when Nathaniel came out of the comic shop, Ezra was leaning on his car, arms folded comfortably and hat tilted back so that it only shaded his eyes, not concealed his whole face.
Nate finally made his purchase and walked out of the store, squinting a bit against the sun. Was someone leaning against his car? His car? Just lounging there like it was some kind of public park bench? Irritated, Nate started walking toward the old - in Nate's mind - guy. He had scratched quite a bit at his stomach in the shop, and hadn't even noticed the tiny bit of blood staining his white t-shirt. "Hey, man, go loiter somewhere else. That's my car," Nate barked, clutching his bag in one hand tightly, no doubt crumpling his comic a bit.
Pushing his hat up a little more so Nathaniel could see him looking at him, Ezra pushed himself up off the car door. "I know it's your car. Nathaniel Liddel, I presume?"
He is not a very friendly young man, is he? the werecoyote, sitting invisibly by his side, commented with mild distaste.
The fact that the guy knew his name had Nate pausing briefly, though he tried to cover up his surprise with annoyed nonchalance. Was this guy a cop? Not like Nate had done anything bad lately. He'd left that ladies BMW in one piece when he'd ditched it in the Wal-Mart parking lot, hadn't he? Not even a scratch. No way they could have figured out it was him, right? Nate narrowed his gaze at the guy. He didn't look like a cop. "Yeah, so what?"
Good, it was the right boy, and he hadn't tried to lie. "My name is Ezra Ramas." He didn't offer to shake hands. He had the feeling that, unlike Danny, this boy would just look at him like he was insane to even think he'd touch him. "It has come to my attention recently that we have something in common."
Nate reached into his pockets to pull out his keys and unlocked his car. "Yeah... I don't think that we do," he said dryly before starting to walk toward the car again. He didn't have to be afraid of this guy. He didn't know him, and Nate couldn't fathom any way they had anything in common.
Ezra made an amused face. "We do, you just don't know it yet." He held up an arm and shook the sleeve back, revealing his own criss-crossing of scars along the bicep, from a time when he was much less proficient than now, and used his own blood more sparingly, and in ways that didn't leave scars. If Nate couldn't put that together, he would officially be disappointing.
Nate feigned boredom, eager to get into his car and drive away from the obviously insane guy. But the sight of Ezra's scars had him stopping abruptly, and he stared at the familiar scars, thrown by how much they looked like his own. Suddenly Nate wanted to know who this guy was, and how he knew his name. His blue eyes ticked away from the scars to Ezra's face. Nate knew he could have denied knowing anything. He could have called Ezra a freak and just gotten into his car to drive away. But he was curious now, because Nate didn't know any other blood witches in Scarlet Oak who would just come right out and admit it. More or less. "How do you know my name?" Nate asked, dropping all pretense of obliviousness.
Very good. No stammering, no attempts at dodging, and certainly no confusion. At least the boy wasn't an idiot, nor did he seem afraid of his powers, like Danny. "A friend of mine saw you practicing," Ezra said succinctly, pushing his sleeve back down into place. "And he let me know, since I'm always on the look-out for others like myself."
Nate cocked an eyebrow, wondering who his 'friend' could have been. Nate rarely practiced anything in public if people were around. He would have known it. And he told Ezra as such. "I don't practice anything if I know someone is in the vicinity. I'm careful about that shit." And he wasn't entirely comfortable being out in the open right now, talking about it. "I still don't understand... so I'm like you in that aspect. So what? I'm sure there's a lot of us out there."
"Not as many as you might think," Ezra shrugged. "Mostly, I like knowing we will not get in each other's way-- I wouldn't mind proposing more, but this is probably not the place for it." He probably could make sure they wouldn't be overheard, but that in and of itself could be noticed. Spells like that were "noisy" affairs, ridiculously enough. He was still working on something better. It was generally easier to just relocate.
Eying Ezra suspiciously, Nate debated internally over whether or not to trust this guy. Hell, who was he kidding? He wouldn't trust this guy. But Nate was mildly intrigued as to what Ezra knew. If he was as skilled as his grandmother, and what he used his magic for. "I don't get in anyone's way," Nate said finally, wanting to get that out there right away. He didn't need some blood magic witch gunning for him. "What... kind of proposals are you talking about?"
"That depends on what you're willing to accept. Would you like to discuss it somewhere a little less open?" Ezra had a couple possible places they could go. He'd even let Nathaniel drive, or they could walk.
Nate wasn't stupid enough to get into any car with Ezra, and he motioned toward his own car. "I'll drive," he said simply, rounding the car to get into the driver's side. At least he had stuff in his car he could defend himself with, if it came down to that. Although something told him it wouldn't.
It definitely wouldn't. Ezra could be aggressive and violent if he had reason to, but he was pretty confident he wouldn't need to. He opened the passenger side door and dropped himself lightly inside, despite his wide frame. "Thank you for the consideration," he said. "Turn right out of the parking lot." There was a nice restaurant he could pay for an expensive lunch for him from, with semi-private booths.
Nate did as he was instructed, despite the urge to turn left just so he wasn't being bossed around. Not that Ezra was bossing him around, but Nate felt like he was on edge and tense. He wasn't sure he liked anyone knowing what he was, but this guy did somehow, and Nate knew he had to suck it up and see what this whole thing was about. "I wanna know which of your friends saw me," Nate said after a moment of silence. "They had to have been like, a ghost. Or stealthy or some shit. Because I'm always careful about that."
Ezra chuckled; compared to Nate, he was completely relaxed and unperturbed, but he'd expected tension on the boy's part. "I know you weren't serious, but you guessed right. I'm also a medium, and the majority of my 'friends' are dead. This one happens to be a navy captain who died more than eighty years ago, poor fellow."
Nate was lucky he didn't run the car off the road, because he started in his seat, glancing at Ezra with wide, shocked eyes. "What the fuck? That's just... unbelievable. I mean, I've heard of mediums before, but never really thought any freaky ghost would be watching me." Creepy. And at the same time, it was pretty damn cool. "What, and you just have these ghosts wander around town looking out for people like me?"
"They aren't actively looking, exactly," Ezra explained. "But if they happen upon one, and they happen to know I am looking, they will let me know." Which was a bit of an understatement. Yes, he had ghosts specifically looking, but he didn't really have very many. After all, no one had told him of Jovie, while someone caught the one rare instance of magic Danny had performed. It wasn't terribly specific, unless he was looking for a particular person.
"Okay, so why are you looking for me? Or them... or whoever?" Nate kept his eyes on the road ahead, wondering where they were even going. "Just so you know what competition is around or something?"
"So that I know who might be an enemy, who might be open to alliance, and who might need guidance to keep from messily killing themselves on accident." And yes, that was indeed a thinly-veiled suggestion that he would be willing to provide that guidance, to teach if another witch was willing. He did hope Nathaniel would pick it up.
His jaw tensed and he glowered at the road ahead, rather than shooting a death glare at Ezra. Of course Nate's first thought was that Ezra was talking about Nate messily killing himself on accident, even though the guy barely knew him. "I'm not new to this," he grumbled. "I know what I'm doing. If I were going to kill myself by now, I would have done it. Where am I going?" he asked, realizing he didn't know his destination.
"Turn left at the next light," Ezra instructed. "There is a French restaurant on the left-hand side of the street." Defensive boy, wasn't he? "And forgive me if I implied I thought you were inexperienced. Even someone my age may make a mistake without guidance and care, and wind up a piece of very bloody meat. The police have new methods and information now, and they might just know what happened."
His offense forgotten, Nate lifted both eyebrows in surprise and shot Ezra an incredulous look. "French?" French usually meant snooty and expensive. Nate could handle snobs, but he really didn't have the money to be eating in some fancy schmancy French place. Especially not dressed the way he was. And his doubt was clearly written on his face. He could assure Ezra he was pretty adept in blood magic once he was sure they weren't going anywhere where he was going to be kicked out.
"Yes," Ezra said with a smile. "French. I will handle the tab, don't concern yourself with that." And as long as they paid their bill, no one was going to do more than look at him for the clothes. Ezra was much more interested in impressing Nate, and showing that his powers were good enough to afford him a prosperous lifestyle. It was all subtle, a simple, confident generosity that tended to hook younger boys who didn't have much.
Snorting, Nate shifted his gaze back to the road and followed Ezra's directions to the restaurant. If the guy wanted to throw his money around on a meal, Nate wasn't going to say no. He wasn't overly concerned with how people would look at him if he walked in there, he just didn't want to get stuck in a bad situation. "Whatever you want, man." He pulled into a parking spot. "Not sure I fit the proper attire, though."
"It'll be fine," Ezra promised, and climbed out of the car once Nate turned off the engine. "As long as the bill is paid, no one will care what you are wearing." Not much, anyway. And less this early in the day than if it were dinner time. The werecoyote jumped through the car, out of the back seat, and trotted after him towards the door, which one of the servers held open for him and, at a look from Ezra, for Nate.
Nate pocketed his keys before shoving his hands into his jeans and following Ezra inside. Rarely did anyone open the door for him and it took him by surprise for a second. Finally he took a breath and told himself to stop behaving like he'd never been out in public before. He stared at anyone who dared to look at him, his eyes pretty much challenging them to say anything about the way he was dressed. Thankfully none of them did, and he and Ezra were seated in a semi private place. Nate slouched in his seat a bit and took the menu. He was going to order the most expensive thing he could find, just to test his limits.
"Order what you like," Ezra instructed absently, scanning over the menu, himself. "Though I recommend the lobster or the duck." He thought he was getting duck, himself. He hadn't treated himself to this place in a while-- and on top of the canes and chair the day before... well. It wasn't going to happen again, unless Danny by some miracle called. This was definitely a step up from the coffee shop that had been his only decent option at the time.
Nate glanced at Ezra over the top of his menu very briefly before he went back to reading the menu. It didn't really hold as much clout to order something expensive when Ezra said he could order whatever he wanted. And Nate had never even had duck. Or lobster, for that matter. "Lobster's fine," he mumbled before setting the menu down on the table. This whole thing was... surreal. Nate had just gone to buy a comic book, and now he was sitting in a French restaurant about to order lobster with another blood magic witch.
The waiter came by quickly with two glasses of water garnished with lemon, and Ezra ordered his duck, letting Nate order his lobster, and then they were alone and it was time to chat. Ezra folded his hands on the tabletop, regarding Nate with interest. "Well, then." He was curious if Nate would ask, guide the conversation, or whether he would need to begin himself. So he gave the boy an opportunity.
Nate felt silly ordering something so expensive, despite having every intention of doing so anyway. He sat there when the waiter disappeared, his eyes ticking back to Ezra's face. "Yeah." He paused for a second. "What is it you want with me, anyway? Or do you just take every witch you meet out for a fancy dinner?"
"I like this restaurant," Ezra shrugged. "And it is one where we are less likely be listened in on. As for what I want from you, that depends a lot on what you want from me." Regardless of whether Nate had wanted anything earlier, now he had come and heard him out, so he logically must have decided he could benefit from this conversation. "I believe in fair trades, and I am willing to offer alliance or tutoring, whichever you prefer or feel more comfortable with, in return for what you feel those commodities are worth."
Nate stared at him for a second, trying to figure out what Ezra's ulterior motives were. He didn't feel like he needed tutoring. His grandma taught him everything. Sure, she was pretty old now, and liked her cats more than Nate, but still. She was all he had. Nate shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "I don't have anything to give you," Nate muttered, his eyes looking anywhere but Ezra. "I don't have any money, and I don't have anything you would fine useful."
"I am taking you to a fancy French restaurant free of charge and you think I need money?" Ezra chuckled. "No, no. The interest I have in you is entirely magical. There are spells that might be easier with, or even require, two witches working together. Or a witness, or even a second set of eyes to catch what another might miss. Most of our kind work alone, but I find that a disadvantage in most cases." Usually he just used spirits, for anything that could be done without magical talent, but if partnership was the hook the boy needed, even an uneven one, Ezra was perfectly happy to play that one up.
Nate tilted his head, listening to Ezra as he tried to decipher what Ezra was saying. Did this guy actually want Nate's help? He didn't even know Nate and he was willing to put that kind of trust in him? "So..." Nate began slowly. "You'd teach me the shit you know in exchange for me helping you when you need it?" There had to be something more than that. It sounded too good to be true.
The mind was working behind those eyes. Ezra took the hole he would have seen and asked after, and filled it. "Don't misunderstand: your help might be for something very difficult or onerous. It will be work, whether we are teaching or casting or both. But we will both benefit from it, in the end, and hopefully neither of us will die messily and draw attention to ourselves and each other." Which was, honestly, one of the biggest public reasons to work with other blood mages, rather than against them, in the new post-Light-of-May atmosphere. If one person died by blood magic, and there was no one to cover his trail, the police would begin looking for a murderer who used blood magic, and no one wanted to be investigated. There were other reasons, of course, but those were personal, and not one Ezra would share.
"How do you know I'm good enough for that?" Nate asked simply. He thought he was, and his heart was pounding with the thought of being able to do more with his magic than piddly spells to get revenge on the people who hurt him. Nate tapped his fingers on the table before continuing, "How do I know you're good enough for that?"
"I don't know, in your case," Ezra shrugged. "Which is why teaching comes hand-in-hand with the help. I need to find out what you know. As for how you know I am good enough...." He smiled mildly beneath the mustache. "I have been practicing since I was much younger than you are now, I write my own spells, and I am not dead yet." For a blood mage, that was a big deal: their magic could kill them, if they weren't careful.
"I... write my own spells sometimes," Nate admitted. Most he got from his grandma. He supposed Ezra had some experience, if he'd been practicing since he was younger than Nate. And like he'd said, he wasn't dead yet. Nate knew how dangerous blood magic could be. He'd had that beaten into his head when his grandma had begun to teach him. "I'm good," he said confidently, trying not to sound too cocky. "I can help you."
Ezra's brows went up. Not a lot, he was good at controlling his expression, but they did. A kid... early 20s at best... writing his own spells? Either he was lying, or-- well, he supposed if one focused entirely on blood magic rather than trying to combine it with black magic and being a medium, one might progress a bit faster... but still! If he was telling the truth, well, Ezra had some work to do to keep ahead of him, or some very careful trickery to keep him from finding out and getting ahead of him on his own. "You must be good, to write spells at your age," he agreed. "I think we can work well together, if you are interested in doing so."
Licking his lips, Nate reached out to push his fork around the table in front of him a bit. "This better not be a trick or something," he said finally. He was so used to people fucking with him, that it was hard to believe this was real. "I don't like it when people fuck with me."
"I'm fairly certain that someone like yourself could defend yourself, even if it was," Ezra pointed out. "At the very least, long enough to yell for help, get away, or get a call in to the police. I am not trying to trick you, but even if I was, you could handle yourself." A boy who was writing his own spells at this age could definitely handle himself. Maybe not against added black magic, but he wasn't sharing that for a while, if he did at all.
Ezra would be right, since Nate had been learning to defend himself since he was young. No one else was going to do it for him. And at least Ezra could recognize Nate was totally helpless, or new to this whole thing. Swallowing, Nate nodded and straightened a bit in his chair. "Yeah. Then... yeah. If you can teach me, I'll help you however you want me to." As long as it didn't get him arrested. Or killed.
Ezra smiled and held out a hand, this time aiming less of a greeting more of a "to seal the seal". After all, if Nate refused to touch him now, that would just be silly. They were going to be working blood magic together, after all. "Good. I believe we have a deal, then."
Hesitating for only a second, Nate reached out to shake Ezra's hand. He was still a little wary, and he doubted he would totally relax around this guy until he was sure Ezra wasn't out to trick him, or something equally as bad. "How will I know how to contact you?" Nate asked, once he pulled his hand away.
"That one's simple enough." Ezra reached into his pocket and pulled out a neat, fairly simple business card. Medium for hire, it read. Cleansing, possessions, hauntings, and communication. It had his cell phone number listed as his business line. "I just give you my card. I would like yours phone number, as well, if you don't mind giving it out."
Nate took the card and studied it, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You actually give these out to people? They don't laugh at you?" Even with the Light of May, the business card just read Scam Artist!, even though he knew the guy was probably legit. He leaned forward and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, slipping the card inside of him before he put it away again. "Do you have a piece of paper, or do are you good at remember numbers?"
"I get people coming in to test me all the time," Ezra said with a shrug. "I don't mind, as long as they pay when I prove them wrong." He pulled out his own cell phone from another pocket. "I don't need paper, I'll just add you directly." After tapping in Nate's name, he asked, "Number please?"
Nate didn't know why, but he was kind of surprised that Ezra had a cell phone. Everyone and their cat had a cell phone these days but Ezra seemed very... old fashioned for some reason. He gave Ezra his number, hoping that this whole thing didn't come back to bite him hard in the ass.
As Ezra finished, their food came-- good service at this restaurant, indeed-- and Ezra put the phone away. "And now that, that's settled," he said cheerfully, "enjoy the spoils, my friend." The spoils, in this case, being a delectable-looking lobster and even more delectable-looking duck.
He looked down at the lobster and realized he had absolutely no idea how to eat this thing. Nate snickered at himself and ran a hand through his hair again before picking up the fork. "I've never had lobster before," Nate told Ezra with a small, self-deprecating smile. "But, ah, it looks good."
"You use the little fork to pull the shell pieces apart and get at the meat," Ezra said helpfully. "But I understand, it's a bit tricky your first time or two." He, himself, carved off a piece of his sauce-drenched roast and made a pleased, contented face. "Oh, very good, as always."
"You'd think they'd just smash the thing open and get the meat out before they served it," Nate muttered, picking up the tiny fork Ezra referred to. "With as much as you have to pay for this shit, they shouldn't make you do all the work to eat." He managed to get a little bit though, and he took a bite. It was better than hot dogs, that was for sure. Not that Nate would say so.
Ezra watched, hiding his amusement at the sight. "For some, working to get at the meat is half the pleasure of the meal," he commented.
Most people who get lobster aren't teenage boys who've never had lobster before, the werecoyote, back from her jaunt around the restaurant to see what there was to see, pointed out silently. Quite honestly, Ezra had to agree.
"Nah, I'd rather it just be there so I can eat it. This feels like a fancy way of playing with your food," Nate pointed out before taking another bite. He was going to finish it, anyway. Because he was starving, and because he didn't know the next time he would have lobster again. "So what's your story? Do you just focus on... what I can do? Or do you have other abilities too?"
"I actually combine what we can do with my abilities as a medium," Ezra explained around bites of duck. "Having magic behind the willpower makes it much stronger and more useful." He was keeping the black magic entirely to himself at the moment, and he still was debating the hunting thing. Probably not going to bring it up, though. "What about you? How did you learn you had this gift?"
Nate wondered what he would do with himself if he had some kind of weird ability beyond his magic. No doubt it would add to it's strength somehow, or it's intensity. Being a psychic of any kind would be damn cool. He shrugged one shoulder, scratching absently at his elbow before he went back to his lobster. "My family. I didn't know about it until I was like, thirteen or whatever. I think I've made pretty damn good progress."
"You have," Ezra agreed gravely, nodding. From thirteen to-- what, nineteen? Twenty? And he was already writing spells. Ezra was just glad he would have the patience and experience to keep ahead of him; between that and the black magic, he would be fine. "Your family taught you the spells?"
"Yeah." He nodded once, his mouth full of lobster. Once he swallowed, Nate glanced up at Ezra. He didn't talk about his family often, simply because he didn't have any other than his grandmother. "But I don't want you to try and contact them or anything." Nate didn't need his grandma knowing what he was doing with this guy. She might not like it, and she definitely wouldn't want strangers knowing what she was.
Ezra wasn't about to contact someone his age or older, with gifts like Nate's. He didn't want that kind of challenge in his life at the moment, thank you very much. "I won't, if you don't wish me to," he promised. "Does your whole family do what we do?"
"She.... they," he corrected quickly, picking at the lobster with the mini-fork. "Do what we do. They're not very open about it, for obvious reasons. What about your family?" If Ezra even had family. Which Nate wasn't sure why he wouldn't but... something about the guy screamed 'loner' to Nate for some reason.
She. There was only one of them? "If my parents practiced, I never knew about it," Ezra shrugged, which was entirely true. He doubted they did, though. There wasn't much he remembered about them, to be honest, except weariness and bickering.
"No brothers or sisters?" Nate asked, shoveling the food in his mouth now. Apparently he was hungrier than he thought. Personally, Nate was plenty fine with the fact that he was the only child. Unless his dad had gone off and knocked up some other women since he left Scarlet Oak, which was always a possibility, he supposed.
"I am, quite frankly, rather amazed they had time to have me," Ezra chuckled. "So no, no siblings. I spent most of my time with my grandmother, until she died, as they worked double shifts on a regular basis."
That? Was just weird. That he'd grown up with his grandmother too, even if his parents had been around. Nate glanced down at his food again before shrugging. "As long as you've got a roof over your head, you don't actually need parents. At least I don't think so."
Interesting look he'd gotten, there. Ezra's brows went up just a bit as Nate looked away again. Was that the understanding that they both were parentless? Who did Nate live with, then? It would simply be too much if it was his grandmother, heh. "I've been doing perfectly well without mine for a good, long while." But then, he was also nearing fifty.
So had he. He didn't really blame his mom, or resent her. She'd died, after all. What could you do? It was his dad he was pissed off at. His dad who he wanted to hurt more than anyone else who'd caused him grief as a kid. Nate took a drink of his water, glancing at Ezra. He wasn't about to start spilling his guts about his homelife to Ezra. He barely knew the guy, and he was going to be teaching Nate to enhance his magic. That was all he wanted right now. "Thanks for the food," Nate said, directing the conversation away from family.
And Ezra wasn't about to pry. When Nate closed off, he backed off. "You're very welcome. If it got us to an agreement, I find it an investment well worth it." And it did, so he did. Besides, the food was excellent.
The waiter left the check, and Ezra picked it up immediately to look it over.
Nate wasn't sure if the agreement would be worth it yet, but he hoped so. If not, well, hell, he got lobster, didn't he? He eyed the check even as he worked on quickly finishing his food. He completely cleared his plate and washed down the food in his throat with some more water. "So... do I just wait to hear from you then?"
"Unless you want me to hear from you first," Ezra said-- making it clear Nate was allowed to contact him if he needed something, had a question, or just wanted to test the agreement. He pulled out his wallet and counted out twenties. Silly restaurants and not taking checks....
"It doesn't really matter," Nate said. "If you need something... well, it's always a favor for a favor, right?" He was already wanting to know just how much Ezra knew about blood magic. How much more he could do than Nate. And how efficient he was.
"Indeed," Ezra said simply. Leaving behind three twenties, enough for the meal and a moderately generous tip, he got up and put his wallet away. Any questions Nate might have had got to wait until later-- Ezra wanted him to stew on them for as long as the boy's pride required. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Nathaniel. I look forward to our next meeting."
Nate got up from the table, watching Ezra place the money down with the bill. It was a lot of money, and Nate knew he wouldn't be able to afford these kinds of dinners on a gas station attendant's salary. But he didn't like to be envious of things other people had. He had something much better than money, didn't he? "Yeah, you too. Uh, do you need a ride somewhere?" It was the least he could do to ask, right?
"It's a nice day," Ezra mused. "I think I can walk. But thank you for the offer." He tipped his hat to the boy, then started out, the invisible werecoyote obediently at his heels. She was definitely an improvement over Eduardo, he was sure of that.
Nate nodded and followed Ezra out of the restaurant, his keys already in hand. He was feeling a bit wary still, but his stomach was full, and he had someone supposedly willing to teach him more magic. Someone who could see dead people. What a strange day already.