Shadow of a Slave (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 1)

by Saffron Bryant

  “He has to eat all of this. Then another bowl every two hours until he’s better.”

  Mary took the bowl and sniffed. She drew back, face twisted.

  Ash grimaced. “I’m afraid it doesn’t taste any better than it smells.”

  He was glad he didn’t have to eat it; it smelled like especially strong onions mashed together with too much pepper.

  Mary took a small spoon and scooped some of the broth to Tim’s mouth. His eyes remained closed but he turned his head away.

  “Come on, baby, you have to eat it.”

  Tim opened bloodshot eyes and shook his head.

  “For me, baby, come on.” Mary pressed the spoon against Tim’s lips.

  His nose scrunched up but he wrapped his lips over the spoon and swallowed.

  “Good boy, not much more to go,” Mary said.

  Tim whipped his head from side to side. “It’s poison.”

  “No, it’s not,” Mary said. She glanced at Ash and Rae out of the corner of her eye. “Eat it up.”

  It took a lot of cajoling and some threats on Mary’s part, but eventually Tim ate the whole bowl and then fell into fitful sleep.

  “He’ll be okay now, won’t he?” she said.

  Ash and Rae shared a glance.

  Rae took Mary’s hand. “He’s not out of the woods yet. If he survives the night, then he’ll be okay.”

  Mary bit her lip and nodded. She rose from Tim’s bed and rinsed the bowl in a bucket of gray water. “We don’t have much, but will you two stay for dinner? To keep an eye on him?”

  Ash’s stomach rumbled and he opened his mouth, but Rae got there first.

  “Only if you can spare it.”

  Mary shrugged and went about setting out four chunks of bread with a thin slice of cheese on each.

  They ate in silence, except for Tim’s rasping breathing. Mary soaked some of her bread in water and fed the paste to the baby.

  They spent the rest of the night taking it in turns to feed Tim bowls of broth.

  Mary, the other child, and the baby squeezed onto the second mattress while Ash and Rae huddled together in the corner, using their arms as pillows.

  Ash woke many times during the night to find his body aching from the hard floor and shivering in the cold. They’d had to let the fire burn down because there wasn’t any wood left and they didn’t have enough money to buy more. Each time he woke, he paused to listen for Tim’s breathing.

  Around midnight, Ash woke but heard nothing. His heart jerked and he sat bolt upright, waking Rae.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “He’s not breathing,” Ash said.

  Panic seized him. Their first patient, dead. They’d used up all of Mary’s money and Tim had died anyway. She’d be sure to blame them and they’d never get another chance.

  Rae scrambled across the wooden floor on her knees to Tim’s side. “Tim!”

  Ash followed after her in a daze.

  Rae gripped Tim’s hand and leaned over his head before letting out a long sigh. “Ash! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She kept her voice low.

  “What?” Ash knelt beside her.

  “Listen.”

  He held his own breath and tilted his head. There was a sound. Soft, barely audible. Instead of the rasping breathing he’d been listening for, Tim’s had become steady and smooth.

  “Oh, thank Talon.” Ash’s head fell to the mattress.

  “He’s going to make it,” Rae said.

  “What? What’s going on?” Mary said. “Is he okay?”

  Rae stood and wrapped her arms around Mary. Ash stayed kneeling beside the bed, letting relief take away the panic that had gripped him moments before.

  “He’s going to make it,” Rae said.

  “Oh, my boy!” Mary hugged Rae back and then dropped to Tim’s side. “Of course you’re going to make it. You’re so strong.”

  Ash slept easier the rest of the night, despite the hard floor, and by morning Tim could sit up on his own and feed himself.

  “How do you feel?” Rae said, resting her hand on his forehead.

  “Much better.”

  “Can you do three deep breaths for me?”

  Tim put the bowl to the side and took three deep breaths without descending into a fit of coughing.

  “It’s a miracle!” Mary said.

  “Just science,” Ash said.

  “It’s a miracle to me. If it weren’t for you two, I would never have been able to afford a healer. You saved his life. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  Ash sighed. What he and Rae needed was a house and food and enough money to get to the Institute, but Mary didn’t even have enough beds or food for her own family, let alone them. And what if the City Watch found them? He couldn’t bear it if Mary and her family were killed because of him.

  “Do you know anyone else who needs healing?” Rae said. “We need money and food. We’re happy to help people for cheap, but we do need to eat…”

  Mary nodded. “Tim’s not the only one who got the coughing sickness. Mister Greenhill at the end of the street could use your help.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  “Where can he find you?”

  “Ah—” Ash looked around the room. “Maybe it would be best if we met him here. If that’s okay of course…”

  “Anything I can do to help.”

  23

  They waited in Mary’s house for the rest of the day, watching Tim gradually improve until he could sit and talk normally. Exhaustion colored dark circles around his eyes but otherwise he looked healthy. In the afternoon a middle-aged man with a balding head knocked on the door.

  His hacking cough told Ash and Rae everything they needed to know and so they used a second piece of sickle root to make up another batch of broth.

  “I don’t have much,” the man said.

  “Whatever you can spare,” Rae said.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out two silver Trites, which he held out to Rae with shaking hands. “I’m sorry it’s not more. I saw poor Tim at the temple yesterday and I was sure he was dead, but you’ve fixed him up real nice.”

  “It’s perfect,” Rae said.

  Once he left, the feeling of excitement in Ash’s chest fizzled. Two silvers was not enough for food and a place to stay, not to mention more medical supplies.

  “I suppose you’ll be wanting to get to your own place soon…” Mary said.

  Ash bit his tongue to stop himself saying anything he might regret. After they’d saved her son’s life… but of course it was her house.

  “Of course,” Rae said. “We’ll get out of your way.”

  “I’m sure you won’t mind if we take the rest of the sickle root with us,” Ash said, wrapping his hand around the jar. “As payment.”

  Rae shot Ash a dark look but he ignored it.

  “Of course… it’s the least I can do.”

  Ash nodded.

  “If you hear of anyone else who needs help,” Rae said. “They’ll be able to find us outside the inn at the end of the next street.”

  “The Crooked Scythe?”

  “That’s the one. We’ll be waiting outside at midday, if anyone is looking for us.”

  “Of course,” Mary said. “I’ll pass it on.”

  Ash opened the door and stepped into the cold evening.

  “Thank you for saving little Tim,” Mary said.

  “Don’t mention it,” Rae said. “If any of you come down with it again, you’ll know what to do.”

  She and Ash turned away from the hut and shuffled together up the road. The click of the door closing behind them had an eerie sense of finality.

  “We don’t have enough money to stay at an inn,” Ash said.

  “I know that. But they need to be able to get hold of us. We’ll find somewhere warm nearby and wait outside the inn at midday, like I said.”

  Ash sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Two Trites for two day’s work. We’l
l never get to the Institute like this; we’ll barely be able to feed ourselves.”

  “It’ll get better. We’ve already started building up our medicine collection. That’s going to be the hardest part. Once we’ve got enough herbs to treat most things it’ll be easier.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Ash said.

  “I can smell coal and metal.”

  “Blacksmith.”

  “And blacksmiths have fires, hot ones. Come on.”

  They followed the smell down two more streets until they came into view of a three-walled shelter with a furnace glowing within. Even from across the street they felt the warmth brush up their skin and chase away the chill night.

  Rae strode toward the alley that ran alongside the forge.

  Ash followed after her. It got warmer the closer they got to the fire until a pleasant heat surrounded him. “I could stay here forever—”

  A shadow moved in the alley and resolved into a broad-shouldered man.

  “No, you couldn’t; this is my place.” His deep voice reverberated off the walls.

  Ash’s heart clenched. They’d only just got a break, if this man took their coins now, he wasn’t sure they’d survive. “We don’t want any trouble. I’m sure there’s enough room for all of us.”

  The man stepped forward again and the glow from the furnace cast deep shadows over his square jaw and crooked nose. “No. This is my place. Find your own.”

  “I—”

  Rae grabbed the back of Ash’s shirt and jerked him back. “Let it go. We’ll find somewhere else.”

  “But—”

  “Listen to your friend,” said the shadow.

  Rae pulled Ash around and pushed him toward the next street, away from the furnace. He glared over his shoulder but kept walking. Rae nodded to the shadow and it disappeared back into the darkness of the alley.

  “I suppose most of the warm places will be taken,” Rae said.

  “I’d never noticed how many homeless there were here before.”

  Rae nodded.

  “We could look for another bakery?”

  “Most of them will be taken. We need to think outside of the box.”

  Ash’s brow furrowed. If all the warm places were already taken by other urchins, then where could he and Rae go? “What about up?” he said, with a sudden burst of hope.

  “Up?”

  “Yeah. No one thinks to look up. Like the guy back there, there’s no way he would have tried a spot in the roof overhangs.”

  “Perfect!” Rae said. “If we can find a roof beneath an overhanging second floor, it’ll be drier if it rains, more hidden, and probably warmer.”

  “We’ll circle around and climb up above the blacksmith where that guy can’t see us.”

  They turned and Rae’s stomach rumbled, loud enough for Ash to hear.

  “Maybe we can find some food first?”

  Ash’s own stomach had given up on growling hours ago and had instead settled into a dull ache. “Good idea.”

  They crossed the road to where a tavern spilled light and noise into the night. Ash reached for the door but Rae stopped him. “Maybe we should go to the back instead; they might give us scraps for cheap.”

  Ash’s spirits fell but he dragged his feet after Rae to the back of the building where a mangy dog watched them approach but didn’t bark.

  Rae knocked and, a few moments later, a young girl in a white apron opened the door, frowning. She looked them over and shook her head. “No. No beggars. Mister Brown made that very clear.” She went to close the door.

  “Please,” Rae said. “We’re not here to beg. We’re willing to pay; we just thought we might get a better price at this door.”

  Ash never could understand how Rae kept so calm, no matter what, no matter how people treated her, she still believed in being polite. He’d never have that kind of patience, not if he lived a thousand years.

  The girl’s freckled forehead creased. “What do you want and what have you got?”

  “We just want scraps,” Rae said. “Some bread and cheese. Maybe some meat if it’s not going to cost too much. We’ve got enough.”

  The girl tilted her head to the side. “Suppose I could give you some of that. For a silver Trite.”

  Rae folded her arms across her chest. “Only if the meat comes from a dragon.”

  The girl shrugged. “Was worth a shot. Fifteen Drams.”

  “I’ll give you five,” Rae said.

  “You’ll give me ten and I’ll throw in a skin of water.”

  “Make it ale and you have a deal.”

  The serving girl chuckled. “Wait here.”

  She returned not long after with a rag tied into a neat bundle.

  Rae opened it and peered inside before handing the girl a silver coin. “I’ll want my change.”

  “Scoundrel!” the serving girl said. “You did have a Trite.”

  Rae met her eyes. “And that’s all we have. I need the change.”

  The girl’s expression lost some of its humor and she dug in the pockets of her apron, pulling out a handful of iron coins. “There you go.”

  Rae handed Ash the bag of food and buried the coins into the folds of her tattered clothes. “Thank you.”

  “Any time.”

  “Martha! You better not be flirting with that boy again!” a voice screeched from inside the inn.

  Martha blanched and looked over her shoulder. “Coming!” She met their eyes and scurried back inside, shutting out the warm glow of the kitchen.

  “Now to find a new home!” Rae said with a grin.

  Ash’s heart rose and he hugged her shoulder. Despite everything, he couldn’t help the feeling that everything would be okay so long as he had Rae.

  They crept through the maze of streets until they could smell the forge. Two streets away they found a stack of abandoned crates which they used to climb up onto the roof of a lopsided building. They kept their weight well-spaced on the rotting thatch and inched to the edge of the next building. This one was taller and roofed in tiles that were more solid under their toes.

  They paused at the edge of the roof and looked down at the forge. It glowed orange between the wooden roof beams and gave off waves of heat.

  “This is perfect!” Ash whispered.

  “There,” Rae said, pointing to the back of the forge where the roof met the building they were lying on. The roof of their building overhung the forge to create a small sheltered area that would be protected from rain.

  Ash turned and swung his legs over the edge, lowering himself down onto the wooden roof of the forge. He tested his weight then inched to the back. The heat from the forge warmed his skin but didn’t burn and the roof stayed dry and firm.

  Rae crept after him and they both huddled in the sheltered corner, grinning in the soft glow of the forge. “Do you think the blacksmith will mind?”

  “Hopefully he won’t notice us,” Ash said.

  He unfolded the rag to reveal the feast within. A hunk of bread and cheese nestled next to a bloated water-skin. Martha had even added two shriveled apples that made Ash’s mouth water.

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” Rae said. She broke the bread in half and handed it to Ash along with half the cheese.

  “What if we need it?”

  “We’ll worry about rationing tomorrow,” Rae said.

  Ash pushed his worry aside and savored the taste of food in his mouth. By the time he finished his hunk of bread and cheese, the aching pain in his stomach had faded. He still wasn’t full, but at least he didn’t feel as if he’d faint from hunger. He and Rae shared one of the apples, placing the other back into the make-shift sack. Despite its shriveled appearance, Ash didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so sweet. They ate everything except the black seeds and then settled back onto their alcove.

  Ash closed his eyes, relishing the warmth floating up to him from the forge below.

  “Ash?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I thin
k we’re going to make it.”

  24

  Ash woke to bright sunlight and the sounds of someone moving about in the forge below. He uncurled and stretched his arms up to the bright, blue sky and his spine clicked into place.

  “About time you woke up,” Rae said.

  “I like this place.”

  “Me too, but you better hurry up and eat breakfast, we’re supposed to be meeting people outside that inn soon.” She tossed him half an apple.

  He shoved it into his mouth and stood. “Come on then, we’ve got people to heal and money to make.”

  “While you were sleeping the day away like a swamp-frog, I did this,” Rae said.

  She turned to the wall and pulled at a red brick. Specs of dust tumbled down the wall and then the brick came free, revealing a single silver coin. She looked up at Ash. “I figure if we get attacked again…”

  “We’ll still have something left.”

  She nodded and put the brick back.

  “Good idea.” Ash hoped they wouldn’t need it. He didn’t think his face could stand another flogging like the one he’d received the other night.

  Rae carried the sickle root and a water skin in their rough woolen sack; they’d left the rest of their supplies out of sight up on the roof. They snuck around the side of the roof and peered down into the alley. The broad-shouldered man from the night before was nowhere in sight so they helped each other down and sauntered out onto the main street.

  They strode toward the Crooked Scythe and scanned the streets for would-be attackers, but the main street in the middle of the day was filled with honest, hard-working people who didn’t give the two youths a second glance.

  Two streets away from the inn, Rae gasped and yanked Ash into the shadow of a nearby building.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “City Watch,” she said.

  Ash’s stomach lurched. The City Watch. How did they know to look here?

  “They might not be looking for us,” Rae said.

  “We have to find out. You stay here with our stuff, if they see me I’ll run. Meet you back at our hideout.”