not have shields like the mages," Mircea said, looking euphoric, "but entering a ley line, even merely skimming the top, without them is madness. The energy forces would consume us in an instant."
"Then why aren't they?"
He pointed out a faint golden bubble of energy glowing softly all around us. Next to the pulsing swirl of the ley line, it was almost invisible. "The stronger mages can use the lines for rapid transport over short distances with merely their personal shields. Longer journeys require something more substantial."
I stared around, amazed, as the energy stream rocketed us forward. "How did you even know this was here? There was nothing visible."
"Not with the eyes, perhaps. But you could sense it, too, if you knew what to look for." I was impressed for a moment, until Mircea suddenly grinned. "Or you can do what most of us do, and carry a map."
"But you don't have a map."
"I lived in Paris for many years; I long ago memorized the lines' locations," he admitted. "I used them all the time."
"You carried around something like that?" I gestured at the orb in his hands. The thing was as big as a soccer ball.
"There are pocket-sized shields, although they don't give such a smooth ride." A particularly large eddy in the electric current sent us spinning off to the left for a moment.
"Smooth?" I asked, clutching his arm to keep from falling.
"Oh, yes." Mircea caressed the little sphere lovingly while somehow bringing us back into the center of the stream, where it was slightly calmer. "I will hate to have to return this." He grinned at me again, obviously exulting in the wild ride. "It's more than a shield. It can also help you find the lines, by glowing brighter when one is near, and can open a fissure if placed directly in its path."
"But how are we supposed to find the mage in all this?"
Mircea pointed to a whirlpool of light up ahead. "Someone exited the line there, not long ago. I did not notice any other ley-line activity before his, did you?"
"I don't know." Between the spells and the duel and the whole thing with Pritkin, half a dozen could have been activated at once and I probably wouldn't have noticed.
"We will have to risk it," Mircea said. "Hold on."
"You know, I am really starting to hate that—"
And then we were falling, careening for the side of the line through a maelstrom of light and sound. For a moment I thought something had gone terribly wrong. But with a sudden absence of color and a resounding boom, like a peal of thunder, we were once more standing on solid ground.
"The Latin Quarter," I heard Mircea say, while my eyes fought to adjust. The shifting, brilliant colors of the line left pulsing shadows on my vision, like fireworks against the deep black of the sky. "This area is a warren of small streets even in our time. This will not be as simple as I'd hoped."
I finally managed to focus on the only remaining source of light, the orb in his hands. It was glowing softly, although if it was still putting a shield around us, I couldn't see it. Of course, I couldn't see much of anything else, either. Beyond the small puddle of light, all I could make out were buildings rearing darkly on every side, reaching for the great span of the galaxy overhead.
"How can you tell where we are?" Even with vampiric sight, this was dark.
"That particular line runs through central Paris and the Ile de la Cité. And I can smell the Seine."
Good for him. I could smell mostly layers of garbage that lay rotting in the gutters despite the cold weather. My shoe squelched in something slimy that stuck to my sole and sent up the vinegar reek of decaying fruit. Horse manure and the sharp scent of human urine were everywhere, as if the streets had been drenched with them. Somehow, the swashbuckling movies never mention that sort of thing.
"This way." Mircea took my arm, which was a good thing because the cobblestones were uneven and what parts weren't covered by a thin layer of ice were slimy.
The dark, winding street was too quiet, and so narrow that I constantly felt like someone was about to lean out from the shadows and grab me. Considering Pritkin's preference for offense over defense, there was at least a chance that someone would. But we came to the end with no problems, and