With a fluttering of her heart, she quickly crossed the street, receding into the alley. From this alley, she could wind her way back to River Road, and from there she could hide in the tavern. Carth receded into the shadowed space between the buildings. Would she even see anything? It was possible that she detected nothing more than her imagination and that the A’ras hadn’t ventured this way.
A flash of color appeared on the street. Carth recognized the dark maroon of the A’ras. Three men made their way down the street. One had a sash of color wrapped around his upper arm. He was thick with muscle and his hair was cut short, revealing a few scars that gleamed in the sunlight. A wrap over his face obscured everything but his eyes. The man next to him was larger, appearing almost soft, but the eyes that searched the street were not. The third man was of average build, and a maroon wrap covered his entire face.
Carth willed herself back, wanting nothing more than to stay hidden in the shadows. That had been another game her father had played with her, though she was never as good at it as some of the others. In the shadows, he claimed that she could hide from almost anyone, if only she learned to find the edge. She’d never discovered what he meant by that. Probably another of his tricks. Her father had many tricks, most of them ways to keep her from finding him. If only he hadn’t been so good at his tricks, she might have been able to find him before the A’ras, and before he disappeared.
They paused near her. “Do you sense it?” the muscular man asked. Carth noted the curved sword at his side, and her hand reached for the knife she’d stolen from the dead A’ras.
“There was power here.” This came from the man with the hard eyes.
“Not was.”
Carth was surprised by the voice. Not a man’s like the others—this came from a woman.
Now the average build made more sense, as did the simple robe she wore. The wrap that covered her face would cover her hair as well. Carth didn’t note any sword, but that didn’t mean she would be unarmed. The A’ras always carried weapons, but even when they didn’t, they had their magic, which made them dangerous.
“You think there is something still here? We would have sensed it had they entered the city.”
The woman shot the hard-eyed man a withering glare. Carth shrunk back, moving as silently as she could and wishing that she could shrink into the shadows even more and find a way that they couldn’t reach her through them.
The woman stopped moving. Her eyes scanned the street. “Do you not feel it?”
“I feel nothing.”
“Because you have no subtlety,” the woman said. “Focus. There was power used here. The Reshian were here.”
Carth wished she could hide better. She wanted no part of the battle between the A’ras and the Reshian.
“Then we should find Al—”
“Shad would not reach us in time, and he must still recover. The attack nearly ended him. Had he not been so careful, it would have ended him.”
She made a motion and the other two A’ras spread out on either side of her, searching the street. Carth didn’t move. She wouldn’t let herself move. Doing so would only risk drawing attention to her, risking revealing her position. So far, they hadn’t noticed her, but how much longer would that remain true?
If only she could steady the pounding of her heart. It sounded loud to her, and she worried that her own fear would give her away. A bead of sweat formed on her brow and began a steady, irritating trickle down the side of her face. Carth refused to move and wipe it away, even when it dripped into her eye.
One of the A’ras—she could no longer tell which—appeared in the mouth of the alley.
She didn’t dare move, but at the same time, she wanted to move. If she could take even a step back, slide away from the A’ras, she thought she would have a chance were she to need to run.
He took a step into the alley.
Carth knew she had been found.
She spun, and sprinted.
A’ras shouts followed her, but she had lived here long enough now that she knew the ways of hiding, and she raced through the streets, winding first toward the docks, then away. The shouts following her grew ever more distant, until she thought she had gotten away.
When she slowed, she discovered that she had run almost to the temple.
Why would she have ended up here? Was it coincidence that she’d returned to the same place she had come after her parents had disappeared, or had the A’ras somehow chased her here, guiding her?
She walked along the street, keeping her eyes alert as she scanned for other A’ras, but saw nothing that was out of place.
Sighing heavily, she allowed herself to relax. She had escaped the A’ras again, but how many more times did she really think she’d be able to do it? Eventually she would get herself caught if she kept doing the same thing. Better to remain hidden near the docks and not draw attention to herself.
Yet, wasn’t that what she wanted? Didn’t she want a way to get revenge for her parents and attack the A’ras?
Carth turned away from the temple.
She slowly made her way back toward the docks, but watched the street as she went, searching for signs of the A’ras. They would still be out there. Maybe not after her, but she had drawn their attention in spite of not wanting to do so.
Night had fallen by the time she made it back to River Road. There were the steady and now-familiar sounds from the docks of vendors shouting to passersby, selling meats and breads and spices. How did Vera really expect them to compete with that? They were too young to sell effectively. Most who might be interested saw their age and thought to take advantage.
Other noises filled the air here as well. Mixed with the loud cries of the vendors were the steady murmuring of dozens of voices. They were loud during the day but grew even louder when night fell, mixing with music coming from taverns like the Wounded Lyre and the steady washing of water over the rocks. All of it mixed together to give a certain rhythm to life near the river, a pulse of sorts. It had been unsettling when she had first come here, but now she was a part of it, and the noise comforted her in some ways.
Approaching the Lyre, she noticed something felt off. Carth couldn’t quite place what bothered her, but it set her heart thrumming again, much as it had when she had been chased by the A’ras.
When she reached the Wounded Lyre, she found a somber atmosphere inside. Kel sat at a table picking at food, rather than making his way through the crowd, practicing at collecting scraps. Etan was nowhere to be seen, but neither was Stiv.
Carth stopped next to Kel. “What is it?”
He barely looked up. “Go away, Carth.”
She sat down and forced him to notice her. “What happened?”
Kel looked up, and she could tell he’d been crying. His jaw clenched, looking like he wanted to hide that fact. “Nothing happened. We’re strays. I just forgot about that fact.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re strays.”
He turned his focus back to the hunk of bread lying on the table in front of him, picking at it slowly. Carth could tell he wouldn’t say anything more.
She stood and circled around the tavern, but there was nothing here for her. She might be able to collect some scraps, but that was all she would find—scraps. Nothing like the wealthier men she’d taken to targeting as they came off the riverboats.
For Etan to be missing wasn’t all that uncommon, especially these days, but where was Stiv?
She entered the kitchen, expecting to see him there, but found only Vera. She worked at a ball of dough, pressing it flat before lifting it and flipping it again, coating it in flour as she did. She moved with a steady rhythm, one where she barely blinked when Carth appeared next to her, not disrupted at all by her presence.
“Why is Kel so upset?” she asked.
Vera glanced over. “Kel should be clearing the tables. That’s what I asked him to do.”
“He’ll get to it,” she said, not
wanting to get Kel into any trouble. He always seemed to find enough on his own. “But what happened? Why does he seem so upset?”
Vera pressed on the dough and flipped it over again. “I told him not to get too attached. Never does any good.”
“Attached to what?”
“That boy,” Vera said.
“Stiv?” Carth asked. “What happened to him?”
Vera stopped kneading the dough and met Carth’s eyes. “We do all we can to protect you. That’s why you’re here. But there are limits, girl, that even we can’t avoid.”
Vera returned to kneading the dough. Carth waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t. When it became clear that she would not, Carth made her way past Vera and out of the kitchen, hurrying down the hall to their room.
Inside, she found Etan sitting on his bunk with a new hole in the wall near his head. He barely glanced up when she entered.
“Where is he?” she said to him.
“Don’t pretend that you care,” Etan said.
“I care. What happened to him?”
“The same thing that will happen to all of us. We’re strays. We’re here until they get tired of us. Don’t think you’re so special that it won’t happen to you, too.”
Carth crouched down to his level. A flutter rolled through her chest as she did, never certain that Etan wouldn’t snap and hit her, but she needed to know. “Did Vera and Hal do something?”
He snorted. “No. They didn’t do anything.”
“Then what happened?”
“You want to know? That’s the problem with us being down here. Nothing happens. No one cares what happens to us. They might give us a place to sleep and offer us the scraps and leftovers from the tavern, but do they really care?”
“Vera and Hal keep us safe.”
“Do they? If they kept us safe, then that kid would still be here instead of caught by them. Your day will come, too, Carth. Don’t think you’re protected. Best if you find real protection. That’s what I plan on.”
“What are you talking about?”
He snorted again. “It don’t matter. It never did. We’re just biding our time, aren’t we? Collecting scraps until the next.”
“What next?”
Etan sat up quickly and shook his head. “Like I said. It don’t matter. Best find a way to keep yourself safe. Especially don’t matter when you’re caught. They won’t say nothing then, not for you, not for me, and not for the kid.”
Carth thought she understood now.
Stiv had been caught collecting scraps. The penalty for stealing was steep, and though she knew it, she’d taken to treating it as something of a game when it should not have been. Had Stiv been caught because of her?
Carth refused to let herself believe that. She hadn’t taught Stiv to collect scraps. If anything, it would have been Etan and Kel who were responsible.
Watching Etan, she realized that he felt the same way.
He stood and pushed past her, leaving the room.
Carth looked around, feeling confused, wishing that either Etan or Kel or even Vera would tell her what was going on, and where Stiv had gone.
14
In the days that followed, answers didn’t come. Anytime she tried bringing up the question of what happened to Stiv, Kel became somber and withdrawn. She’d tried asking Vera again, but she’d refused to answer. Even Hal had fallen silent.
Carth rarely saw Etan any more. Usually by morning, he was up and gone before she and Kel were awake and often didn’t return until well after dark. She didn’t know if he continued collecting scraps, but he didn’t appear hungry or poorly dressed. A shadow of scruff grew on his face now, making him look both older and rougher. The times she did see him, he had a hard, almost angry gleam in his eye.
She became worried about what would happen to her. If Stiv had been caught, how long would it really be before the rest of them were, too? Etan preferred to crash into people as he lifted their purses, and Kel wasn’t much different. When one—or both—of them were caught, what would she do?
There was nothing that she could do.
Was that what she wanted? Did she want to become a thief, always worried about the next thing that would happen to her? She didn’t have any other options, did she?
She found herself standing in front of the herbalist shop once more. The last time she’d come, the A’ras had been here, the same night Stiv had been caught and taken away. The A’ras continued to patrol through here, but not with regularity, and she’d managed to sneak off whenever she saw any sign of them making their way toward the docks. Still, there was more of an A’ras presence than there ever had been before.
As she watched, no one entered the herbalist, not as they had the last time.
Carth pushed through her fear and entered the shop.
It had been nearly destroyed.
Carth’s stomach dropped.
The air no longer carried the scent of the leaves and oils. Bins were toppled, with dried fruits piled onto the floor. Jars of leaves had been thrown to the ground, leaving the jars cracked and destroyed. Even the oils had been spilled, streaks of wetness running down the walls and pooling on the floorboards.
She stepped around the herbs and made her way behind the counter, expecting more of the same. Boxes there were tipped over, some appearing to have been slammed to the ground, leaving the contents spilled. Two splintered chairs left a trail of debris toward the back door.
Carth paused at the counter, leaning on it and breathing heavily. This wasn’t new damage. Whatever had happened here had been at least a day or two ago; otherwise, the air would smell more pungently of leaves and oil.
Nothing really remained. What appeared to be boot marks trampled over the leaves. Tiny shards of glass mixed with them. Even the dried fruits and berries had been stomped.
She shouldn’t be here.
The thought came overwhelmingly to her, filling her with a sort of dread. Shops weren’t just destroyed like this, were they? And it couldn’t be a coincidence that the A’ras had come through here and now the shop was destroyed.
Pausing at the window, she peered out, looking into the street, fearful that someone might be watching for her, but she saw no movement. Maybe it would be better to go out through the back door anyway.
As she passed through the shop, she paused at the counter again. A flash of glass caught her eye. At first, she thought it was another broken jar and stepped carefully, remembering what the herbalist had told her about the shadesbreath, but found an intact jar.
She lifted it and realized this was the jar of shadesbreath.
If the herbalist was right, shadesbreath would be dangerous. She needed to be careful with it, but then, she shouldn’t leave it here either, should she? Not if someone else might come along and not know what it was. Better that she remove it and store or dispose of it so that no one got hurt.
Carth slipped it into her pocket, making sure to put in the other pocket, the one without the A’ras knife.
At the back door to the shop, she paused before pushing the door open a crack and peering out. The shop opened into an empty alley and she hurried outside, closing the door behind her.
She started back toward the docks, but what was there for her there, other than an angry Kel, and Etan, who had grown increasingly quiet with her?
Instead, she made her way into the city.
Troubled thoughts plagued her. They were thoughts she never would have considered when her parents had been alive, but she wondered about her father, and why he was as skilled at sneaking around as he was. The worst part of that realization was knowing that she would never get the opportunity to ask him about his past, that she’d be left with the questions she now possessed.
Then her mother… her mother was an herbalist of sorts, but she had only worked with her family, not selling her concoctions like other herbalists did. How much had her mother known about her father? Was that the reason they had come to Nyaesh?
Her parents had never really told her why they traveled from city to city. They would spend months at a time in some, though they had been in Balis for nearly a year before moving to Nyaesh. When they’d moved, they had brought the packs they possessed, and not much else, and Carth had never questioned why.
Now that they were gone, she did. What would have brought her parents to this city, a place so dangerous that they refused to let Carth out of their sight? The only time she’d ever really been alone in Nyaesh had been after they’d died.
She reached the end of the alley and paused on Doland Street, considering whether she wanted to return to the docks. The sounds of the docks, those of gulls cawing and vendors shouting, drifted to her. The other direction led away from the docks, and toward the palace of the royal family. A familiar blue cloak caught her attention. Was that Jhon?
She started up the street and after him, keeping enough space between them that she didn’t think it would look like she followed him. As she approached, she saw that it was Jhon, and he wasn’t alone.
Carth shuffled to the side of the street, watching him, and noticed that he seemed to lean forward, speaking to a shorter someone who she couldn’t clearly see. A part of her wanted to run up to him and find what he knew about her parents. He had known that her parents came from Ih-lash, which meant he might know more about her parents than she did.
Moving carefully forward, she tried watching for his cloak but lost sight of it amidst the rest of the crowd. Cursing herself for her caution, she tried finding him, but failed. Jhon had disappeared.
Carth spent the rest of the afternoon looking for him. She had questions she needed answered. Almost getting attacked by the A’ras wasn’t going to change the fact that she wanted to know what more he knew about her family—and why.
Carth stood along the shore and stared out over the river. Standing here, with the sound of the gulls calling overhead and the soft rushing of water over the rocks, she would almost call it peaceful. Vera and Hal had offered her protection—though it was protection that she now understood they had paid the A’ras to provide—but the tavern was not her home. Having Jhon speak to her about her parents, and bring the questions that she had back to her mind, had made it all too clear that she didn’t belong down here near the docks. There might be safety, but it was a false safety, and one that faded at the first sign of attack.
The Shadow Accords Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 12
