by C. Greenwood
He slipped a hand into his coat pocket and withdrew a wriggling, fist-sized creature whose brown fur grew in mangy patches and whose scaled tail was half the length of its body.
I quirked an eyebrow at the ugly animal. “Your partner is a rat?”
“The cleverest helper I ever had,” he assured me, settling the creature on his shoulder, where it looked perfectly at home. “He never argues, never betrays, and always gives sound advice.”
Suspecting the rat of being a convenient instrument for his owner’s opinions, I said, “And right now Nimble’s advice is…?”
“Sit and wait,” my companion answered. “Few and determined are those who find their way to the heart of the Beautiful.”
“I expect the determination of the guardsmen will depend on the value of whatever it was you stole,” I said.
“When you put it that way, they might consider a long search worth their while, yes. A certain noble woman is missing some particularly fine jewelry up on Round Street tonight. Luckily, no one saw my face.”
“All the same,” I said. “I’d be eager to leave the vicinity if I were you.”
He said, “That’s because you’re not using your head. I’m not about to be picked up on the street with stolen goods in my pocket. Much better to lie low for the night and slip away in the morning, after the searchers are long gone. That’s my plan anyway, and I advise you to do the same.”
So saying, he dropped to the ground and pulled off his boots. For a moment, I thought this was his preparation for going to sleep, but then he began pulling the legs of his breeches up to the knee. Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I had to ask what he was doing.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m wading,” he said, stepping into the shallow pool in front of the pavilion.
“At a time like this you’re going to play in the water?” I asked.
“I’m not playing at anything. I’m securing our good luck by placing a coin in the mouth of the water nymph,” he said.
As he spoke, he splashed to the center of the pool where the likeness of a playful water nymph wrapped in her long hair crouched among the lily pads. Her parted lips, revealing a collection of shiny coppers inside, indicated this sort of offering was a common tradition for the few who made their way to the heart of the maze.
My companion added his offering to the rest, before splashing his way back to me. I noted that, despite his precautions, his breeches were soaked to the knee, but he didn’t complain as he climbed over the edge of the fountain to sit at my side. Clearly, he considered the relative discomfort worth the gain.
When he finished tugging his boots on again, he led me to the covered pavilion where we found a pair of long benches set against the walls. I gathered these were to serve as our beds for the night. The space was narrow, the floor no more than a dozen steps across, and the towering columns weren’t as sheltering as solid walls would have been. But I told myself that was just as well because if our enemies discovered us here, we would have several quick routes of escape.
Leaning back on the cold stone, I found the roof overhead was as insubstantial as the walls. Just a set of crisscrossing narrow beams, over which grew a tangle of intertwining vines. I stared up through the open patches of greenery into the starry night sky and thought of Terrac. I was surprised to feel loneliness washing over me, as I wondered if I would ever see him, my outlaw friends, or my forest again. Dimmingwood seemed a thousand miles away from this strange city. My mind moved to Hadrian and my failure to locate him. A thought occurred to me.
“Thief?” I called softly into the darkness.
The shadow sprawled across the opposite bench lifted his head. “You called?”
“Yes, I just had a thought.”
“Savor that novelty. Some of us are trying to sleep.” Despite the words, his tone wasn’t unkind. Encouraged by that, I said, “I’ve thought of a way you could repay me for aiding you earlier.”
I heard his yawn. “Did you aid me? I’ve already forgotten. Besides, I think I remember you saying something about the joy of crossing the city guard was its own reward.”
I ignored that.
“I came to Selbius looking for a certain man,” I said. “He was supposed to be at the temple at the start of the Middlefest celebrations this morning, but I missed our meeting. If you care to repay your debt, you can do it by finding this man for me.”
I half expected a careless refusal, but he surprised me by remaining thoughtfully silent for a moment. At length he said, “Selbius is a good-sized city. What gives you such confidence in my ability to hunt this fellow down for you?”
“You’ve boasted that you know Selbius better than anyone. I’m giving you a chance to prove it.”
“How generous of you. I suppose I probably could find your lost man at that, but why should I want to?”
I was growing irritated. “Because you owe me a favor and you know it,” I said. “I’ve made enemies of the city guard, not a wise thing to do around here, in order to save your sorry hide. Already, I begin to regret it. Will you help me or not?”
He sighed and said, “Very well. I’ll set to work finding your precious friend in the morning. Now, will you stop nattering and let me rest in peace?”
Satisfied, I said, “Thank you, thief.”
He lifted his head again. “You can’t go around calling me that in public, you know. I might as well wear a thief’s brand on my forehead.”
“You don’t seem to want to give me a better name to call you by,” I pointed out.
“Well, I guess it doesn’t have to be my real name.” He thought briefly. “Fleet. I go by that one now and then. Yes, you can call me Fleet.”
“I’m Ilan,” I introduced myself.
I expected an acknowledgement from the thief, but Fleet remained silent, and after a moment, I decided he was already asleep.
I hadn’t enjoyed a real sleep, without the aid of the footpad’s blow to my head, since arriving in Selbius, and my weary mind and body were both begging for rest. I allowed myself the luxury of lying down and closing my eyes but tried to keep my ears open and my senses attuned to the night around me. Somehow, despite these efforts, I drifted into a light sleep and dreamed of death and blood, all the while vaguely aware of another consciousness nudging its memories into my mind. I tossed and turned until my hand came to rest on my bow.
CHAPTER SIX
I awoke at dawn’s first light. As soon as my eyes opened, I sprang upright on my stone bench. How could I have been careless enough to fall asleep? I looked around for my companion of last night, only to find he had deserted me while I slept. Rot that piece of street filth; he had promised to aid me! I immediately felt around for my bow and breathed a sigh of relief when I found it. At least he hadn’t taken that. Snatching it up, I scrambled to my feet and out into the gray light. The air held the chill of early morning and the sun was just rising to burn away the mists.
There, at the edge of the dew-streaked lawn, paced Fleet. He was tossing a pebble back and forth in his hands, eyes fixed on the ground at his feet, but was instantly aware of me the moment I stepped out of the pavilion. He ceased his pacing to watch my approach.
“Contemplating abandoning me in my sleep?” I asked suspiciously.
“Only a little,” he said. “But now you’ve taken that decision out of my hands. I thought you’d never be up. You sleep like a corpse.”
I snorted for answer and took the opportunity to study my new acquaintance under the light of day. He was shorter than me, despite appearing a few years older. Lean and wiry, he had a narrow face and lightly tanned skin, wore his dark, greasy hair slicked back in a tail, and sported a scrap of whiskers on his chin that was closer to a shadow than an actual beard. A prominent jaw, altogether too long, was his most noteworthy feature. He was dressed in a slightly faded, tight-fitting coat that might once have been fashionable and wore a thin strand of cheap, false gems strung close about his throat. A similar stone dangled gaudily from one ear.
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I wasn’t sure what to make of a street thief who dressed as vainly as a Camdon merchant, but the incongruous sight made me smile.
Fleet caught my expression and said with a knowing gleam in his eye, “I see you appreciate a good thing when you see it.”
I couldn’t tell if he was jesting, but I said, “Actually, I was thinking you remind me of a fat, strutting paradin decorated in shiny baubles.”
“Fat?” His eyes widened in alarm.
“Well, maybe just when your feathers are fluffed.” I reassured him.
He shrugged. “Your opinion is the minority, I can tell you. The ladies aren’t at all opposed to my preening. But you’ll see for yourself soon enough, I shouldn’t wonder. I’ll grow on you.”
“Like stink-moss?”
He frowned. “Never mind me. Look at yourself, woodlander. I can practically see the leaf-mold growing between your toes.”
I became alert. If there was one thing I didn’t need in this town it was to be associated with the woods folk. I’d heard enough about that danger already.
Fleet must have seen the concern on my face. “Never mind, woodchuck,” he said. “It isn’t that obvious and your coat helps. Just pull your hair down loose and keep that bow out of sight. Walk with less confidence, like the city women do, and you’ll pass well enough.”
But he continued studying me. “If we could only get our hands on the right clothes, I could turn you into one of those wild mountain women from Kersis. Folk would be afraid to stare at you too hard then.”
“I’ll pass on the costume,” I said. “Just make me inconspicuous. That’s all I ask.”
I slung my bow over one shoulder and he helped me arrange my long, gray coat to conceal it. I looked a little hunchbacked when we were finished, but Fleet said it wasn’t too noticeable. At any rate, I wouldn’t be parted with the bow, so I had little choice. I also pulled my silvery hair free of its tail and combed it with my fingers.
“Not bad,” Fleet said of the effect. “I could almost imagine you pretty, if it weren’t for that horrible crooked nose.”
“I got it in a fight with an arrogant paradin who talked too much,” I said meaningfully.
He changed the subject quickly. “I’m famished. What do you say we go looking for some breakfast?”
***
By midmorning we sat concealed behind a low wall backing the market square, devouring the juicy red berries and slices of sweet waterfruit Fleet had deftly filched from a fruit vender’s stall. I hadn’t realized how long it was since my last meal until I sank my teeth into the fruit and felt its sticky juice dribbling down my chin. It was good to lean against the sun-warmed wall at my back and relax with a full belly. But comfortable though I was, I didn’t forget Terrac was probably enjoying a less fortunate state. I had to save him and to do that I must enlist Hadrian.
I gave Fleet a short explanation of how a friend of mine had been taken up by the Fists and of why I hoped locating Hadrian would lead to a plan for freeing Terrac. I told him all I knew of the priest and the only clues I had for finding him. I told him also of my misfortunes the night before Middlefest, of how my falling victim to a footpad had prevented my making our rendezvous in the temple, to say nothing of costing me a new pair of knives and a handful of coin. Then I recounted to him Hadrian’s reference to the river people.
When I was done, Fleet frowned and pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“River people, huh? Makes a body wonder what sort of priest this friend of yours is, that he has dealings with those folk. Not many do. Certainly not priests of the Light.” He chewed his lower lip. “Still, you’re determined to find him, and I guess if this is our only clue to his whereabouts, I can manage it. Should be easy enough to get out to their river rafts. I just don’t know how we’ll be received when we arrive. I’ve heard they’re hostile to strangers. It’s about the only fact anyone knows about them. I should also warn you I don’t speak a word of their twisted dialect, so we may have a bit of trouble making our questions understood.”
“But you’ll come with me?” I asked.
He grimaced. “Ah well, I’ve taken worse risks. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be an adventure.”
I wasn’t looking for adventure. Rather, I was fervently hoping after this was all over my life would slow to a duller pace for a long, long time. I kept these thoughts to myself and asked instead, “Exactly how do we go about finding these people, Fleet?”
“There’s no finding to it,” he said. “You must have seen them on the old docks as you crossed the bridge into the city. That’s where they stay. Never come inside the city walls. They’re no more welcome here than… well, than we’ll be when we enter their community.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “Let’s be off.”
“Not so fast. There’s one little matter I have to take care of first. In case you’ve forgotten, I still carry certain borrowed goods on my person, and I’ll be more comfortable after I’ve got them out of my possession.”
I couldn’t conceal my impatience. “What are you proposing?” I asked.
“Nothing that will take up much of our time,” he said. “I’ve a friend who turns stolen goods into gold. Come on.” And with no more explanation, he led me off.
I tried to ask where we were going but could get little information out of him.
“Nowhere pretty, I’ll tell you that much. Not a place you’ll want to be seen coming and going from either. The city guard watch you closer if they think you’ve got business with the folk down there, so I keep my visits to a minimum. But there’s no help for it today.”
I shook my head in confusion, but he didn’t seem to want to disclose anymore. I was beginning to learn my strange companion enjoyed a mystery.
I said, “Well, wherever this secret place of yours is and whatever your friend does there, I hope you don’t expect me to pay for any part of it. Don’t forget I was robbed and haven’t a copper left to buy myself a penny-loaf of bread, let alone to purchase your friend’s services.”
Fleet was unperturbed. “Who spoke of purchasing, I’d like to know?” he called over his shoulder as he threaded his way down the crowded street. “I don’t believe in paying for things. This is a simple business arrangement, a case for bargaining, and luckily I’ve the chip for it. Just settle back and leave everything to me.”
***
The under-levels were a warren of underground tunnels of stone and clay reaching like dark, spreading roots beneath the clean city streets above. The tunnels had been constructed as part of the previous Praetor’s plan for a complex drainage system for floodwaters and city waste, Fleet told me. The endeavor had proven a failure either for inadequate planning or lack of funds and work on the tunnels had ceased years ago. Now they provided a filthy dwelling place for citizens too impoverished to afford shelter elsewhere, as well as a dank, smelly hideaway for disreputable types who didn’t wish to conduct their business under the light of day.
I was unsurprised to find the entry to the levels located in the beggar’s quarter of the Common district. Fleet led me unerringly to the mouth of the entrance, slid aside the metal grate, and together we descended the winding steps leading into the bowels of the city. The light was dim here but by no means dark as night. Occasional glimmer-stones were cemented into the walls along with the building stones and these provided an eerie, greenish glow to illuminate the levels. I would have paused to wonder how those stones stored and emitted light underground without the sun’s rays to replenish them, but in this unnatural place such a small phenomenon seemed unremarkable.
I suddenly felt very far away from the bright sunshine and bustle of the world above. An odd silence hung like a shroud around us, and the very air we breathed was stale and stifling. When we came to the foot of the steps, we found ourselves in a high-ceilinged open chamber from which numerous smaller tunnels branched off in various directions. I caught sight of a few ragged children scurrying off like rats down those side tu
nnels, but this wider chamber appeared to be the most heavily inhabited area.
Before me spread a haphazard collection of hovels, shoved against one another in close, disorderly fashion, their walls made of any kind of unwanted rubbish the inhabitants had been able to get their hands on. A few homes had dirty blankets strung across open doorways to provide a measure of privacy, but most entrances stood open to the outside. There were no roofs on the dwellings, probably because the chamber ceiling overhead already provided shelter from the elements.
Many of the shacks leaned against other structures for support so that there was little room for walking between them. There were no discernible paths or rows to keep to, but following Fleet’s lead, I picked my way carefully along. Those inhabitants who had not raised hovels or tents over their heads sat or sprawled heedlessly over the stone floor, often crowded so tightly together I could scarcely move without stepping on them. A full half the folk we passed were sleeping, despite the early hour of the day. I supposed down here in the dark, they did not mark the hours of the days and night as we did above.
My attention was drawn to the many pitiful folk who were ill. They coughed and shivered, half naked and often lacking even a thin scrap of blanket. I felt a mixture of sympathy and unease at the sight. It hadn’t been so long since the years of the rotting plague and I thought nervously what a prime breeding ground this place would be for such diseases. I noticed that Fleet, ahead of me, avoided touching anything around him and I followed his example.
Many of the inhabitants of this depressing place watched us with disinterest or not at all as we passed, but our arrival caused a small stir among others. A handful of unfortunates clutched at me, begging for a coin or two, until they learned I had nothing to offer. Fleet, with his gaudy jewelry and finer clothing, drew beggars like a loaf of honey-dipped bread. But I noticed, though they followed him like hopeful dogs trailing their master, none put out even a tentative hand to touch him. They relied instead upon their pitiful cries to capture his sympathy.
