“The girl is a cutpurse-”
“Are you?” Larni asked Seff. “Are you a cutpurse?”
“Yes,” Seff said defiantly. “I am.”
Petre looked triumphant. Seff wasn’t done speaking. “I’ve lived on the streets m’whole life. I don’t remember my mum, never had any dad to speak of, so I’ve been by myself for a long time. On the streets, you’ve gotta do anything to survive. So yeah, I lightened a few purses, but never from them what needed it more than I did.”
There was stunned silence as she finished. Petre looked like he’d been smacked in the face. I liked the girl even more than I had upon meeting her.
“What’s going on?” Jett and my mother had arrived on the scene.
Petre opened his mouth but closed it as I sent him a look. “I’ve brought home a new friend,” I said. “Seff, these are my parents.” The plural felt rusty on my tongue. “Mum, Dad, my new friend, Seffina.”
Seff gave a small, awkward wave, and then went back to staring at the carpet.
“A street kid?” Jett asked, confused. I quickly explained the situation, the guards and how our confrontation had finished, and then mentioned the guards on the gate threatening to tell Ryman that I’d brought Seff into the palace. Jett nodded, obviously understanding my unspoken request.
“One more thing,” I said, as he went to head down to the portcullis. “Seff is going to need some new clothes if she’s going to stay with me. My purse is too small to accommodate us both.”
“What are you saying?” Jett asked, his expression stony. “I’m saying that you should still have a left-over purse, for my absent year,” I fixed my father with a stare. “Unless my dear father thought that I wouldn’t return, in which case I see that as a complete lack of trust in my abilities.”
Jett glared at me for a few seconds, before reaching for his belt. I caught the purse he threw to me with ease. “Good to know you have faith in me, father dear.” I said, kissing him lightly on the cheek as he passed. I heard only a grumble in response.
“Larni, would you mind getting Seff set up with some new clothes and maybe a bath?”
“Certainly, miss.”
“Seff, would you like to stay with me?”
She nodded mutely. “She can’t stay with you,” Rain said, speaking up for the first time. I went to protest, but she cut me off. “I don’t mean that she can’t stay in the palace, just that she can’t be with you all the time.”
“She’s right, miss,” Larni said. “The governor will notice sooner or later.”
They were right. I chewed my lip. “I could take her down with me to the kitchens,” Larni said. “There are many servant girls down there, she wouldn’t be noticed.”
“Is that ok, Seff?” I asked the girl.
“Work in the palace kitchens?” she repeated. “Yes, I think I’d like that.” I watched Larni lead the girl down towards the kitchens before turning back to my friends. Dena met my gaze but didn’t say anything. Morri flew to my shoulder, latching his little claws into my shirt and beginning to preen some hair that had come loose from my plait.
“So… what’ve you guys been doing?” I asked, desperate to break the awkward silence.
“We were just about to come and find you,” Dena said.
“Did you want to head back out into the city?”
“Sure.” Dena couldn’t have sounded less enthusiastic if she’d tried. The guards on the gate didn’t even glance at us when we passed; Jett had done his work well. I let Dena lead the way through the cobblestone streets with Theresa next to her, happy just to wander through the city and take in the sights. At one point, they went to head towards where I’d rescued Seff, but I subtly turned them away. I didn’t need to find out the hard way that the guards had revived.
Twilight was falling as the city began to come to life. Eating houses and taverns grew full to bursting with patrons, the light from the buildings spilling out onto the street. We came across some performers far from the palace. We watched with the crowd as the two performers on stilts breathed fire above our heads.
“They’re Sudafraens,” Rain said, who was standing close to me. “Look at the markings around their eyes.” I remembered some of their culture from the Academy, and shuddered. Suddenly the performance wasn’t as interesting and we moved away.
We were making sure to stick in our little group. I’d seen a number of dodgy dealings happening in the small alley ways that trailed around the main streets. At one point a man in a long coat approached us and tried to sell Petre what he claimed was a Du’rangor fang but looked a lot like a sharpened leg bone of some farm animal. I steered Petre away before he could buy me an actual Du’rangor fang; he still liked to call me the Du’rangor Slayer and would love nothing more than to present me with some kind of trophy.
“I’m starving,” Ispin groaned a little later. “Can we stop and get food?” There were a number of street vendors selling food. We stopped at one and bought skewers of roasted meat, flavoured with garlic sauce.
“Inspired by the flavours of Melacore,” the vendor told us proudly as we pulled the meat off with our teeth. “What do you think?”
It was amazing. I bought another one from him as we went to wander on, nibbling on the soft meat. A little while on, Ispin complained that he needed some kind of sweet food for dessert and we stopped at another vendor selling apples coated with sticky caramel. We munched on them as we sat on the rim of a fountain, watching the city people. We were so far from the palace that we couldn’t see it anymore, and it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
“We should head back,” Rain said grudgingly after a little while. “It’s a long walk and it’s getting late.”
“I’m not ready to head in yet,” I said, leaning back on the fountain, looking at the stars. “You guys go ahead.” “We’re not going to leave you out here,” Dena said, standing up. “We can have the same argument as before, but the fact remains that I can defend myself just fine.” I told her sternly. I didn’t know what Dena’s problem with me was lately, but I’d had enough of scowls and disapproval from her.
She sent me another frown and then turned to head back. My group cast looks at me, but I didn’t meet their eyes, and they followed Dena back to the palace. I sat on the edge of the fountain for a bit longer before I stood and dusted myself off.
I drifted along with the crowd, snagging bits of conversation here and there. I saw two guards in black take down a rowdy drunken man and the crowd cheer on the resulting brawl. The night was loud with a thousand voices and thick with the smell of the city. I found myself shunted in front of a tavern, shrugged and headed inside.
Floorboards creaked under my boots as I entered. I felt my feet stick to various spilled liquids and decided it was best not knowing what they were. Someone was playing an off-tune piano in the corner, as tables of loud men laughed and bellowed at each other. I took a seat at the counter, looking around the room. The tables were all full, with one being used for an arm wrestling competition. I watched the competitors for a moment before a barmaid caught my attention.
“Mulled wine if you have it,” I said, sliding two coins across the counter. I added a third when she eyed me off. She scooped the coins into her hand and bustled off to get my wine.
Smoke from the fire was filling the room slowly, added to by the various pipes some of the patrons were smoking. I watched a group of men play a game of cards with a very tattered deck, though for as long as I watched I couldn’t figure out what they were playing.
A yell and cheers brought my attention back to the arm wrestling. A youth in a filthy tunic too long for his frame and blonde hair hacked short stood triumphantly, draining the mead from his tankard. I watched some spill over his cheeks as the men roared around him. The man he’d just defeated slunk away, leaving behind a few coins and a half empty tankard, which the lad seized when he finished his own.
“Here ya are, miss,” my wine appeared in a tankard in front of me. The barmai
d remained, despite the men calling for her attention. “If you don’ mind me askin’, miss, what you doin’ round ‘ere? We don’t get many of your ilk.”
“My ilk?” I repeated, sipping the wine. Its strong fruity flavour mixed with the taste of caramel from my candy apple earlier. “What do you mean by that?”
“Students, miss, students from the Academy.” She leant closer, giving me a good view of her bosom. “Is it true what people ‘ave been sayin’, then?”
“Depends on what they’ve been saying.” “They’re sayin’,” she lowered her voice to the point where I too had to lean forwards. “They’re sayin’ that the Masters ‘ave been locked up by some girl.”
“They’ve been saying that, have they? And where might they have heard that from?” She opened her mouth to answer, but our attention was redirected to the wrestling table as the defeated man returned.
“You cheat!” he was shouting at the blonde youth. “You filthy cheat!” The youth responded with something the barmaid and I couldn’t hear, but the men around the table roared with laughter. I watched the other man’s face turn beet red, and suddenly saw the bottle in his hand a second before he smashed it down on the table.
“Best clear off, miss.” The maid advised, scurrying out the back. The brawl had just begun. Seeing the broken bottle, the blonde youth had flung himself across the table to stop the man using it. I slid off my stool, unsure whether to leave or stay, though I didn’t know who I’d help in the situation.
The man swung the bottle drunkenly, the youth leaning back to avoid it. One of the men who’d been watching the wrestling took offence to the attack on his champion, and threw a chair in his displeasure. It hit the man playing the piano, who head-butted the keys in a cacophony of disgruntled notes and stayed there. The man who’d thrown the chair was set upon by a flying tankard, thrown by persons unknown, followed by others.
I ducked, narrowly avoiding someone’s pipe as they threw it, still lit. I watched it shower burning tobacco leaves on someone’s head as it flew over them, the embers setting the man’s hair alight. Before he’d noticed, I dumped my tankard of wine over his head, dousing the flames. He rounded on me, obviously thinking the attack unprovoked. I dodged his clumsy blow and then delivered one of my own. The man had been so drunk that when my fist connected, he dropped to the ground, unconscious. I looked around anxiously, but no one had noticed. I nudged the man under one of the tables, and then turned back to the fight.
The blonde youth was in the thick of it, standing on a table using a broken chair leg as a sword, laughing manically at all of it. I watched in horror as three men lifted the table he was standing on and threw it in my general direction. I didn’t have a chance to cry out before the youth ploughed into me, knocking us both to the floor.
I lay on the floor, stunned, the youth on top of me. He smelled like sour wine. I shoved him off as the crowd roared for his punishment via further brawling. I was about to let them until I caught a glimpse of the youth’s face. My mouth fell open.
“Eleanora?”
~Chapter Fourteen~
She looked up at the sound of her name. Her long blonde hair had been cut back to her ears and her purple eyes were only faded amethyst now, but it was her. A scar ran from the bridge of her nose to her left cheekbone, marring her perfect skin. I saw recognition flicker in her eyes and she groaned.
“Brilliant. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get worse.” A bottle smashed near us and we scrambled to our feet. Our side of the pub had cleared out, and we were now facing down the other half who were brandishing tankards and bottles, roaring at us.
“Last place I expected to find you.” I said to her as she picked up the chair leg she’d been using previously.
“Thought I’d finally gotten rid of you,” she snapped back. “Come on, you sons of bitches!” She laughed that maniac laugh again as her comment infuriated the men. One man charged at her, breaking away from the bunch and she took him out with a swing of her chair leg. I was distracted from watching her further as they realised that I was apparently in league with their quarry. One man tried to take me unawares from the side, but I dodged his attack and gripped his arm as it went past. I spun, elbowing him between the shoulder blades. He barely noticed the blow, but Eleanora’s chair leg dropped him cold at our feet. I punched another man square in the face as Eleanora delivered a kick to another’s kidneys. We were holding off the masses, but only just.
“Guards!” We all turned to the door at the cry. The barmaid had somehow gotten to the door and was calling out into the street beyond. “Tavern brawl! Guards!”
The men went berserk, trying to leave the building before the guards could answer her call. All tried to stampede the small doorway, getting jammed halfway through. I turned to Eleanora just as she heaved her chair leg out of one of the only windows, shattering the glass and creating a bolt hole just large enough for us both. We hopped through it, landing awkwardly in the alleyway beside the tavern.
Only then did I notice how drunk she was. She tottered as she climbed to her feet, holding her arms out to steady herself. I grabbed a hold of her before she could plough into the side of the next building, and then looped her arm around my shoulders.
“Where do you live?” I asked her. “This way,” she responded thickly, and began to drag me down the alleyway towards the lower district, occasionally leaning on me as she swayed. “I don’t need an escort, Sky.”
She tugged away, and I let her. I watched her teeter into a street, wondering if I should follow. When she started staggering towards a vendor selling ceramics, I decided that I should. She wobbled as I reached her and then promptly threw up in a vase. I seized her arm and dragged her away from the stall before the vendor could notice. I felt immensely bad about it, but I’d dropped my purse during the brawl. I’d try to remember this location and return with compensation.
Eleanora didn’t seem to notice that I was guiding her again. She rambled about something arm wrestling related as we wove our way through the people still dominating the main streets. We ended up outside a tall building, and she leant against the door, scrabbling at the door knob. I twisted it open for her and we both fell inside.
I groaned as my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the rickety building. Stairs led up to floors above us, and when Eleanora began to clumsily climb the stairs, I sighed and began to lead her up the stairs.
We reached the second floor, and she slumped against a doorway. I tried to turn the knob, but it was locked.
“Keys?” I asked her hopefully. She was almost asleep against the door and mumbled something that I didn’t catch. I fidgeted for a second before I noticed a long leather thong hanging around her neck. After a second’s hesitation, I hooked the thong around one finger, and pulled it up. She batted my hand away, but I lifted the thong over her head, holding the key attached to it triumphantly. I unlocked the door and dragged her inside.
She wrestled free of my grip once again and fell face first onto an un-kept bed. I watched her for a second, but when she began to snore obnoxiously, I pulled off her tattered boots and covered her with one of the ratty blankets from her bed. I shut the door carefully, and then looked about.
I was standing in the middle of a dank room, her single bed taking up most of the space. A small dressing table with an empty bowl stood on it, a dry cloth hanging over the side; it obviously hadn’t contained water in a long time. Clothes spilled out of the drawers and I couldn’t help but shove them back in and close the drawers properly. Through the moonlight spilling through the single window, I spied a small oil lantern and a flint sitting next to the empty bowl. I lit the lantern successfully on the second shot, golden light filling the room. I spotted a chair in the far corner next to a small table, and dragged it towards her bed.
I had some questions for her when she sobered up, and I was so far from the palace that I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to find this place again if I left. I sat heavily in the chair, grateful that
I at least had some light. No sooner had I finished the thought when the light flickered. I glanced over; the oil had run out. I sighed, accepting my fate. The light dimmed completely, leaving me in the moonlight. I closed my eyes, and somehow managed to sleep.
~ “Oh… you weren’t a nightmare.” I cracked open my eyes. Eleanora was sitting on her bed, trying to finger comb the tangles from her short hair. Sunlight streamed through the dirty window, illuminating
the room. “No, I’m not. But you look like one.” I groaned, sitting upright again. My muscles complained painfully about sleeping in the chair all night. “Eleanora, what are you doing here?”
She regarded me warily.
“I could ask you the same thing. Weren’t you banished or something?” “Was. Past tense.” I stretched. “I’m staying in the city with some of our classmates. Does Dustin know you’re here?”
“No,” she retorted. “No one does. And you’re not to tell them.”
“Fat chance.” “Sky,” for the first time, she was looking vulnerable. “Please… I’m a joke, a failure. I’ve lost everything and I’m not handling it too well, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t want anyone from the Academy knowing what’s happened to me.”
“What has happened to you?” I asked. “I know that you’ve lost your magic-” “Yes, you can thank your gods-cursed soul mate for that,” she snapped, head in hands. “What happened to him, by the way?”
“He’s exiled,” I said, feeling ill. “Iain and Netalia exiled him to Orthandrell.”
“Should’ve banished him in my opinion,” she said.
“Forget what should’ve happened. Can you tell me what did happen? How did he take it?”
She watched me for a few long seconds. “When you left, Phoenix… changed. I’d known him before you were both discovered – was that before or after he broke up with me? Actually I don’t want to know,” she ran her hand through her hair, making it stick up. “But I still tried to comfort him. I couldn’t possibly know then what he was going through, but I tried to be there for him as much as I could. And how did he repay me?” She pointed to a small scar under her jaw-line. “He rested his hand on my neck, right here, and took all of my magic.”
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