Мария Снайдер - Fire Study - Study 03

I waited a moment, then opened the back door. Peeking out, I scanned the dark alley. It appeared to be deserted, but without my magic, I couldn’t be sure. I risked it and left Bavol’s. The Citadel’s quiet streets alarmed me. Only a few people walked on the roads, and most of them were Vermin. Even the taverns remained dark and desolate.

My chances of getting through the north gate undetected didn’t seem likely. I considered going to one of the inns, but the Vermin could have people there watching for strangers. The longer I stayed on the street increased the danger of being caught.

In desperation, I found a house with an outside staircase reaching the ground of a narrow alley. Climbing up to the top of the steps without making too much noise, I stood on the handrail and reached for the edge of the roof. I discovered a problem with marble buildings as I tried to use the wall to push myself onto the roof. My foot slipped and I just managed to regain my balance and avoid plummeting four stories to the ground.

In the end, I employed my acrobatic training and made a leap of faith onto the roof. Good thing these same marble walls were thick enough to mask the sound of my thud.

I lay on the flat roof, gasping, glad Valek hadn’t been here to see my awkward ascent. His ability to scale the Commander’s castle walls was now more impressive. I wondered if he would be worried when I failed to come back. Perhaps it was for the best that I had stayed too long with Bavol. Multiple trips through the gate would arouse suspicion.

The night air turned cold. I huddled in my cloak and slept. Dreams of fire haunted me. No matter where I ran to or where I hid, the flames always found me. Always.

I woke sweat soaked in the morning light, achy and feverish. The prospect of climbing down from the roof unseen and finding Fisk was as appealing as taking a cold bath. At least descending proved easier than ascending the roof. I made it down the stairs and into the alley without incident. Although the thumping in my head failed to stop.

Bleary-eyed and tired, I searched for Fisk at the market. Remembering his meeting room, I hid nearby and waited for him.

The group of children who left the building caused me to smile. So intent on their day’s work, they moved with purpose and carried themselves with a businesslike air. After they disappeared from sight, Fisk appeared beside me.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing bad. I have another job for you.” I told him what I needed and he thought he could help me. “I don’t want anyone to get into trouble, though.”

“Don’t worry, you picked a good night.”

“Why is it good?”

“It’s Midseason’s Night. We celebrate the midpoint of the cold season. Gives everyone something to look forward to.” Fisk grinned. “Doesn’t Ixia have something similar?”

“Yes. They hold an annual Ice Festival. People display their handcrafts and get together to exchange ideas. I just hadn’t realized we were this far into the season.”

“The celebration’s bound to be quieter this year, but there should be enough activity to hide ours.” This time Fisk’s smile held a hint of mischievousness, reminding me of Janco.

I’d bet Janco had been pure trouble as a kid. At least I hadn’t upset him and Ari before leaving Ixia. Then again, since I hadn’t brought them along, they could be annoyed with me, too.

We made plans for the evening and Fisk told me of a place where I could stay to wait for the night. After he left, I walked over to the Council Hall. I made a loop around it while trying not to appear as if I held any special interest in the square structure. The activity on the wide steps leading to the first floor was busy. The Councilors’ offices, the great hall, record room, library and Citadel’s jail all resided inside. My interest lay in the record room. Information from all the clans had been stored there, and I wanted to find any mention about the magician’s emergency tunnel within the records. Or perhaps the library would have some reference to the Keep’s layout?

Bain’s private stash of books most likely contained the information I needed. The irony of my situation was not lost on me. The Second Magician had told Bavol about the tunnel’s existence because he knew Bavol would be the first person I would contact. What Bavol had thought was an interesting tidbit of information turned out to be a message for me.

The lack of details remained a problem. East side of the Keep and big enough for a horse didn’t give me much to go on.

The flow of people in and out of the Council Hall stayed steady. However, a few Vermin hung about and I decided not to risk my life for research.

When I headed back toward the market, a strange feeling touched my back as if a thousand little spiders crawled up my spine in unison. Turning a corner, I glanced to the side. A male Daviian walked a small distance behind me. He wore red pantaloons and a brown hooded short cape. When I rounded another corner, he remained on my tail.

His scimitar glinted in the sunlight. I entered the market. Pausing at a vegetable stand, I hoped the Vermin would pass me, but he leaned on a lamppost. Small darts of panic began to pierce my heart. If the Daviian was a Warper, I wouldn’t be able to lose him.

Joining with a group of women, I stayed with them as they shopped. The man kept pace with us. I needed a distraction and fast.

One of the women in the group paid for a beaded necklace. She had been rather loud and full of opinions as we went from stand to stand, and she made her annoyance over my unwanted presence clear to me.

When the stand owner handed her the wrapped package, I leaned over and whispered to her, “He sold that very same necklace to my friend for two silvers last week.”

The woman had just paid four silvers. As predicted, she loudly demanded the same price and the confused seller tried to reason with her. The ensuing argument drew a considerable crowd and I squeezed between them, hoping to lose the Daviian.

No luck. He caught sight of me and followed. A few shoppers temporarily blocked his way, and I ducked under one of the market stands.

Not the best decision, but I had run out of options. I hunched under the table. A purple cloth had been draped over it and the material hung to the ground. A few bolts of fabric and a box of buttons had been stored underneath.

I wondered when it would be safe to leave. Popping up just as the Vermin walked by wouldn’t be ideal, so I squirmed into a more comfortable position to wait.

The purple fabric pulled aside. I froze.

A man’s face peered through the opening. “Your friend’s gone. It’s safe to come out.”

He backed away when I started to move. “Thanks,” I said, brushing the dirt off my cloak.

“Attracting their attention is never a good thing,” the man said. His round face held a serious expression. “People tend to disappear around here. Especially those with five golds on their head.”

I calmed my furious heartbeat. The stand owner knew I hid under his table and he hadn’t reported me. At least not yet. Perhaps he wished to strike a bargain? Something like six golds to keep quiet.

“Don’t worry. You’re a friend to Fisk and his guild. And just the fact the Daviians would be willing to pay five golds for your capture means you, of all people, scare them. I hope for the sake of my family the reason you scare them is because you can do something to bring our normal lives back.”

“I scare them,” I agreed, thinking about the Sitian Council and how terrified they had been over me being a Soulfinder. “But I don’t know if I can restore your old way of life. I’m only one person.”

“You have Fisk’s help.”

“Until my money runs out.”