Tamora Pierce - Street Magic

Evvy pushed herself up the slope on her backside, her heart galloping. The Vipers started at the noise she made and struggled to their feet. Bobbing and weaving, hanging onto each other, they fled into the marketplace.

Evvy rubbed her eyes, light-spots still danced through her vision, half-blinding her. The Market of the Lost and Oldtown were not places where it was wise to let others see her handicapped in any way. She was in no condition to find her way among the maze of trails between here and home, and the locals would be after her in a moment. She needed a hiding place until she could see clearly again. Lurching to her feet, Evvy walked-skidded down the slope and found her way to the back of Sulya’s herb and charm stall. Sulya kept the large baskets she used to tote her wares tied to a post there. Evvy groped her way between them and settled, whispering “It’s Evvy, Sulya,” through the cracked wood of the stall’s back.

“Don’t break nothin’, strangers’ child,” Sulya warned.

She had the sharp ears of a desert fox, and a large cudgel that she used on those who touched her property.

“Not me,” Evvy assured her. She rested her head on her knees, praying to Kanzan, goddess of healing, for her sight to return. What had she done?

Briar had been riding east on Triumph Road, winding around pedestrians, riders, flocks, and camels, when he felt a surge of fright come down the magic-vine that connected him to Evvy. He couldn’t sense thoughts through it, unless the tie was to another plant mage or his foster-sisters, but feelings came easily. He was about to ride on—Evvy wouldn’t be as old as she was if she couldn’t take care of herself—but the next big surge of fright slammed him. He felt her magic flare, wildly out of control.

Briar wheeled his mount and rode back the way he had come, ignoring the people who dodged out of his way. The closer he came to the intersection of the Street of Victories and Triumph Road, the steadier his connection to Evvy felt. Her fright was there but under control. What could have happened?

She was nearby. He slowed his mount, looking around the part of the Market of the Lost at the base of Princes’ Heights, hoping to spot her. Someone blundered into his horse. Briar, shaken from his concentration, yelled, “Watch where you’re going, bleater!” in Imperial.

A girl wearing the nose ring and garnet of a Viper braced herself against his mount. Her face and clothes were marked with small burns; she peered at him as if she were nearly blind. Two youths swayed beside her, speckled with burns just as she was. They pulled her away.

“Mind your manners, eknub scum!” snarled the black youth in Chammuri. He was one of the Vipers who’d stopped Briar in Golden House. The trio stumbled on down the street, cursing.

Briar watched them with a frown. What were they doing halfway across the city?

He shook his head and picked up the invisible vine of his magic, following it behind a cluster of stalls. In the shadows his power gleamed as it threaded through a heap of large baskets.

Briar dismounted and walked over to them, the horse’s reins in one hand. He pushed two aside, uncovering Evvy. She stared up at him, her eyes watering, terror in her face and in the magic between them. Then she whipped around and clawed at the baskets behind her, trying to escape.

Briar was in no mood to be kind. He called to the reeds woven into the baskets, waking them from their dead slumber, sparking them into new growth. He also called to the madder seeds that lay in the ground under Evvy. The madder surged gleefully in his magic, tough stems erupting from the ground; reeds unwove themselves to wind around the madder stems and grow with them. Together the combined plants wrapped around the girl’s limbs and waist, binding her tight. Evvy shuddered and went still, closing teary eyes.

“It’s just me,” Briar said, remembering to speak in Chammuri this time. “What did you do, Evvy? You used your magic, didn’t you?”

Her eyes flew open: she gave him her best glare. The bundle of food she’d stashed in her tunic leaked, painting grease stains in the cloth across her chest and belly.

“I won’t hurt you,” Briar continued patiently. “I’m trying to help.”

“Then let me go,” she snapped.

“So you can scramble off again?” he asked, not unreasonably, in his mind. “I don’t feel like teasing you out any more today, thanks all the same. Why are you blinking?”

“Let me go ,” she insisted.

“No,” he said, his voice flat. He waited.

At last Evvy growled, “I threw rocks at them and told the magic to do something.” She wiggled, trying to break free. The ropes only tightened their grip. “It made some rocks light up and go hot enough to burn, and now I’m seeing spots, and it’s all your fault for telling me about the magic, so there. I hate you. You ruined my life.”

“No, magic ruined it,” Briar pointed out sympathetically. “It ruined mine, too, for a while. You’ll survive.” He went to his horse and drew his mage’s kit from a saddlebag. Like his clothes, the cloth of his kit had been woven, sewn, and treated by his foster-sister Sandry, which meant that when he touched the knot that closed it, the knot came undone. The kit unfolded itself. Briar looked through it until he found the small jar labeled EYEBRIGHT. “Did your magic touch you at all?” he asked.

She squinted, trying to see him through the bright, dancing globes that covered her vision. “No,” she said, unhappy with the situation and his question. “I threw it at them, not at me. I’m fire-blind, is all. And tangled up in your magic.” She tugged at her bonds, but the reeds and madder had used the time they’d been talking to wrap still more stems around her. “My nose itches.”

“That’s nice.” Briar opened the eyebright jar and dabbed the tip of his index finger in the salve. “So who were they? How many were there? Hold still and close your eyes.”

Evvy jerked her head as far back from him as her bonds would let her. “You’re going to do something awful.”

Briar growled, exasperated. “Now, look, youngster, I’m just going to help you see. It won’t hurt. I happen to be pretty good at this, so stop arguing and close them. If you’re good, I’ll let you loose.”

Evvy flinched as he dabbed salve first on one eyelid, then the other. “It’s cold,” she complained.

“No, it’s an aromatic, or some of it is,” he retorted. “It just feels cold. Stop fussing and open your eyes.”

Evvy obeyed. “The spots are gone!”

“Told you I knew what I was doing.” Briar wiped the extra salve into the jar and closed it, then did up his kit again. “So who did you throw magicked stones at?”

Evvy shrugged. “Vipers. Three of them. They were trying to grab me!” she cried, misreading his frown. “I had to protect myself!”

“Of course you did,” Briar replied absently. “Two boys and a girl, right? But this isn’t Viper ground, is it?”

“Market of the Lost is open ground, same as any other souk. Anybody can come here,” explained his captive. “But they followed me through Camelgut and Snake Sniffer territory.” She frowned, trying to remember her route from the Street of Hares. “Rockhead, too. That’s bat-dung crazy, that is. Rockhead’s are too stupid to know they’re killed, so they never lay down.”

“I don’t know anyone like that,” Briar said drily. “Now, what do I do with you?” It wasn’t really a question. He already knew her well enough to expect that anything she suggested would not help him.

“You said you’d let me go,” Evvy pointed out.

Briar looked at her, checked the angle of the sun, and eyed her again. Had they enough time to go to the amir’s palace together?