Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Sorcerer's Widow

“There’s too much other magic here,” she said. “It’s getting confused.”

“It can wait,” Irien said. “What about that one?” She pointed at a signboard on a side-street, a few doors from Wall Street.

Kel leaned over and saw a the sign in question; it depicted three feathers above the words “Food-Drink-Lodging.”

“I don’t know it,” he said.

Irien glanced at him. “I thought you used to steal purses in taverns.”

Kel had almost never stolen entire purses, especially not in taverns, but he did not bother correcting her; he merely said, “Not that one. It’s too close to the Grandgate barracks.”

“That sounds like a recommendation to me.”

Kel turned up an empty palm.

“Good enough,” Irien said. She tugged the reins to turn the oxen.

“What? No, wait!” Dorna protested, looking up from her talisman. “My bag is that way!” She pointed directly down Wall Street.

“The inn is that way,” Irien replied. “I think we need to arrange lodging before we do anything else.”

“No!” Dorna said. “No, I could lose him.”

“Couldn’t Kel find him for you?”

Kel ducked at the suggestion. Dorna barely glanced at him as she said, “Not before he sells my talismans!”

Kel thought she was over-estimating Ezak’s ability to fence magic, but did not say so.

“Dorna, I am not going to drive this wagon halfway across the city through these streets! Look at them!” She waved an arm to take in their surroundings.

Kel looked around.

This was Grandgate, not his home territory, but it was still reassuringly familiar. To their left was the Wall Street Field, where no permanent structures were permitted; this particular stretch held no structures at all because it was too close to Grandgate and the guard barracks, and therefore had soldiers traipsing across it at all hours, discouraging the erection of tents or other temporary shelters. To their right were houses, shops, and taverns, mostly catering to a military clientele-vintners, armorers, gaming halls, and the like. Behind them on the left, just beyond Wall Street Field, rose the immense north tower; ahead on the left, beyond the field, was the inner gatehouse. Directly ahead of them, past the gatehouse, was the broad open expanse of Grandgate Market, jammed with carts, market stalls, farmers, merchants, and customers. It all smelled of smoke and sweat and dirt, and the sounds of footsteps and calling voices and rattling wheels filled the air. None of it looked at all out of the ordinary to Kel.

There were hundreds of people in sight, going about their business. Dozens of them were driving various carts or wagons. Kel was not quite sure what Irien found so unappealing about driving here, but then, she was from a tiny village; maybe this was too crowded for her.

“Fine,” Dorna said. “Stop here, then, and Kel and I will go on on foot. It’ll probably be faster anyway.”

“But…I don’t…” Irien said.

“You book us a room at that inn you like, and take care of the wagon, and we’ll find you there later.”

“Dorna, I-”

“Go on!” She looked up from her talisman long enough to spot the signboard. “The Three Feathers, across from the tower where the vaults are. We’ll find it.” She stood up, a trifle unsteadily, while the vehicle was still moving.

Irien halted the oxen and watched unhappily as Dorna awkwardly climbed down-awkwardly, because she was keeping her talisman in hand and in sight the entire time.

Kel hesitated.

“Come on, Kel,” Dorna called, her gaze still focused on her magical guide. “I may need you. You know the city, and I don’t.”

Kel hurried to the step, but just before he leapt to the ground he turned back to Irien and said, “I’m sorry.”

Then he was following Dorna at a trot, south through Grandgate Market, as Irien drove the wagon into the side-street.

From Grandgate Market Dorna led the way down Soldiertown Street, then hesitated where Barracks Street forked off to the left. She looked at Kel. He pointed to the right, and they continued down Soldiertown, drawing curious glances from passersby.

As they continued almost due south through Soldiertown, Dorna grew steadily more agitated. Finally she stopped, and looked around wildly.

“We’re going the wrong way!” she said. “He’s in that direction!” She pointed ahead and to the left.

“He’s probably somewhere in Smallgate,” Kel said, nodding.

“But none of the streets go that direction!”

“No, they don’t,” Kel agreed, puzzled.

“Why not ?”

This question struck Kel as rather like asking why water is wet; the streets went where the streets went, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. “Most of the streets in Soldiertown go either north and south, or east and west,” he said. “Except for the alleys off Gambler Street, there aren’t any curves or diagonals between Whore Street and Smallgate.”

She glared at him.

“There are plenty of crooked streets in Smallgate,” Kel offered helpfully. “That’s how you’ll know when we’re in Smallgate, and not in Soldiertown anymore.”

“Then how are we supposed to get to where Ezak has my things, if none of the streets go there?”

“He’s probably somewhere in Smallgate,” Kel repeated.

“Yes, but how do we get to Smallgate?”

“Straight down Soldiertown to Midway Street is the easiest,” Kel said.

“What’s the fastest ?”

“Oh, I don’t…I mean…” Kel looked around for a way to escape, but Dorna grabbed his shoulder.

“Show me,” she demanded.

Kel bit his lower lip, then nodded. “This way,” he said.

They turned left on Gambler Street, then right on Cheaters’ Alley, where Kel popped the hidden latch on Bennimin the Lender’s back gate, so they could cut through a nameless courtyard, ducking under a clothesline and then out a smoke-blackened passage to emerge on Armorer Street, which they followed four blocks further south, past homes and second-hand shops and a tinker’s workshop-the actual armorers were all further to the north. A dry culvert, another courtyard, and another narrow nameless alley brought them to Archer Street, where Dorna’s talisman indicated their target was now almost directly south of them, straight down the road, less than half a mile away; the sorcerer’s widow was visibly relieved by this discovery. “It’s a good thing we left the wagon with Irien,” she said, glancing back at the route they had followed. “But it’s straight from here.” She smiled.

Kel was not quite so cheerful about it. He was somewhat surprised they had not encountered any real obstacles or hazards yet-the shortcuts they had used were not always so cooperative. He knew that “straight” did not always mean “easy,” and in fact their route probably wasn’t going to be straight at all. Archer Street ended at Smallgate Street, just north of a tangle of alleys and byways that Dorna would probably find incomprehensible-not to mention dangerous. That was Kel’s home neighborhood, and where he thought they were likely to find Ezak, but the prospect of bringing a woman there, a small woman who did not know the city or its customs and who did not look at all intimidating, did not appeal to him. She did have her magical weapon, but the people most likely to jump her might not recognize it as a weapon at all. Her only visible protection would be Kel, and Kel did not think his presence was going to seriously deter anyone-especially after dark, and the afternoon shadows were lengthening ominously. As he watched, he saw a woman in a gauzy red skirt step out to light the lantern above her elaborately-painted door.