The White Tower (The Aldoran Chronicles: Book 1)

by Michael Wisehart

  The inquisitor finally stepped back. “Clean up this mess, Rae!” he ordered the little healer who had been quietly watching from the far corner of the room. Cheeks donned his richest smile. “I want to do this again.”

  The inquisitor strolled over to his table of instruments and scanned the lot, one at a time. “You will eventually come to understand the value of working with the White Tower. The Arch Chancellor is a patient man, but only to a point. I would encourage you not to waste his time. It is in your best interest that you accept his offer.”

  Ferrin thought he could hear a hint of fear in the inquisitor’s words.

  Whatever happened, Ferrin knew his only chance was to find a way to escape, or find a way to take his own life. No one had ever escaped the White Tower, a fact that he was repeatedly reminded of as a way to detour the very notion. As much as he wanted to be there for his sister, he couldn’t take a chance on her being used as a way to force him to do the White Tower’s bidding. He’d rather die than betray his friends or family.

  “Everyone has a weakness, smith. I will find yours.”

  Ferrin took a deep breath. He had to hold out long enough to find a way to escape.

  Chapter 33 | Ty

  A DELIGHTFUL AROMA brought Ty to a sudden halt as he glanced across the street at a colorful sign that read Reloria’s Sweet Shop. It was outlined with painted images of sugar sticks and chocolate drops. His mouth salivated on cue.

  After glancing at the list of items his mother had asked him to purchase, and realizing he was nearly through, Ty folded the slip of paper and stuffed it back inside his brown overcoat.

  Pushing on, he reached the last shop on the west side of River Street before catching a glimpse of the white dome of the Sidaran Assembly. The building clearly marked the end of the shopping quarter. Just beyond, Ty could make out the larger dwellings of the upper residential districts, home of the Sidaran ruling élite as well as a few of the more prominent business owners.

  Wrinkling his nose, he caught a whiff of the sickly-sweet smell of fermentation drifting from the vintner’s place of business on his left and, not wanting to linger around such an abrasive odor, he started across the street. Master Orlyn’s shop was the next one down. The sign out front depicted a couple of jars filled with fresh herbs on a green background. Overtop of the images were gold letters spelling out, APOTHECARY.

  Stopping partway across the street to allow one of the upper-class carriages to pass, Ty turned at the sound of horse hoofs. Four riders directed their mounts out from behind the Justice Hall. Their white mantels bearing the insignia of an open blade piercing a rising sun was enough to send Ty into a panic.

  He dodged around the carriage and hopped onto the sidewalk, nearly colliding with a well-dressed lady who was busy balancing a large number of bags and small packages in her arms. Apologizing quickly, Ty leaped inside the apothecary and shut the door. His hands shook as he peered out the front window at the men riding by.

  The riders passed the shop and kept going. Once content with the fact that they had continued on instead of stopping to drag him kicking and screaming off to the White Tower, Ty breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  He turned around to see if anyone had been watching and realized this was the first time he had ever been in Master Orlyn’s shop. The inside smelled of the forest. It was invigorating. The walls of the shop were lined with ivy. Colorful blooms of gold and lavender sprouted from each vine. It gave the appearance of having stepped into a small glen as opposed to a city shop. There were even a few shoots rising between the floorboards. Ty took a moment to glance around at the jars of aromatic plant life that lay spread across multiple isles of shelving.

  “Well, hello, young Ty. How are you today?” The apothecary’s familiar voice rang out from the front of the shop. Ty poked his head out from around one of the aisles. The older man was heading in his direction. His baggy robes swept the dust from the floor as he came.

  “I’m doing well, Master Orlyn.” Ty stepped away from the shelf of plants he’d been studying to retrieve his list. “I was told to get some sage, some mugwort, rosemary, and also some cor . . . ee . . . nder.” Ty struggled to pronounce what his mother had written before giving up and handing Orlyn the folded parchment.

  “Ah.” The apothecary pointed at the sheet with a flicker of amusement on his face. “Coriander.” Master Orlyn inspected it further. “Hmm, I should have all of this. If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll pull them for you.” And before Ty had time to even nod his thanks, the man was off.

  A doorbell at the front rang out, signaling the entrance of potential customers. Ty could hear the two ladies gossiping away as he quietly moved to one of the back corners and started rummaging through a couple of the lower shelves, trying to get a closer look at some of the goods on the bottom.

  “Yieee!” came a high-pitched shrill from a few shelves over. “There is magic being used in this shop!” Ty tripped over one of the jars he had been looking at and fell face first into the adjacent shelf, nearly tipping it on his head. From his hands and knees, he peeked through a dusty niche to see what was happening. He caught a glimpse of Master Orlyn quickstepping down one of the aisles toward the two overly-dressed women.

  “What seems to be the problem, madams?”

  “There is magic being used in this establishment,” the plucky lady on the left huffed, her raised chin holding steady at an upward angle as she tried managing a position that would allow her to look down at the apothecary. A rather difficult task, Ty observed, since Orlyn was nearly twice her height. “I have a mind to report this to the magistrate.”

  Ty slouched behind the closest shelf. This was starting to turn serious.

  “Madam, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  “Poppycock!” she said, wielding her small handbag like a weapon at the tall apothecary. “I know magic when I see it. And I am a woman who knows her duty. I will see every one of you evil wielders drawn and quartered before I let you try taking over my town! Filthy creatures!” At that pronouncement, Ty was now attempting to crawl under the shelf.

  Orlyn produced a kerchief from his robe and wiped his brow. “If you would be so good as to explain what you saw, I will be only too happy to help you in any way that I can. But I’m sure the city patrol would be quite put out to find you had wasted their time without evidence.”

  “Humph!” She crossed her short arms over her chest. “Are you accusing me of seeing things, Apothecary?”

  “No, ma’am.” Orlyn nervously tugged on his long beard. “I just want to keep you from looking a fool by bringing something to the officials without having investigated it further.”

  The lady and her friend seemed to consider his words a moment, but not wanting to concede the point, they merely nodded.

  He bowed slightly. “Thank you, madam. Now please explain what it is you think you saw.”

  “I didn’t think I saw anything! I saw what I saw! Isn’t that right, Fetunya?”

  “It is indeed, Helene,” her friend said. “It is indeed.”

  “My apologies.” Orlyn wiped his forehead once again. “Please forgive an old man his fumbling use of words.”

  The ladies appeared to be satisfied as the short thin one with the big mouth stepped forward and pointed at one of the potted plants. “Right there. That’s where I saw the magic.” Ty tried peering out from underneath the lower shelf in hopes of catching a glimpse at what they were talking about.

  “Ah, now I’m beginning to see.” Orlyn stepped around to the yellow stained clay pot and pulled it from the shelf. “Yes, you have a good eye, Madam Helene. Did you see the petals move?” Both women began nodding at once. “Ah, I see. Well, this is a rare form of flora known as Dragon’s Breath. And even though it bears the name of a mythical creature, it harbors no magical properties. It was so named because of its aversion to heat. It only blooms in cool climates. My guess is you got a little too close and your breath caused it to retract, hence its name,�
� he admitted with a look of humorous guilt, “Dragon’s Breath.”

  “Why, I never!” she scolded, her eyes bulging as she struggled to determine how to refute his accusation. Not being able to produce a witty rebuttal, she merely grabbed hold of her companion’s arm and scurried out the door. Ty couldn’t help but laugh at Master Orlyn’s joke. The old man winked in his direction, and then went about replacing the plant.

  “Too many people like her have been indoctrinated for so long that magic is evil and all wielders should be disposed of. It’s sad really.” He shrugged and shook his head before launching himself back into acquiring the rest of the ingredients on Ty’s list.

  Ty had to acknowledge the ease with which the old man moved from one shelf to the next, knowing precisely where all his merchandise was located, something Ty would have believed rather difficult considering the vast selection he possessed. But before Ty had managed to find the end of the first shelf in his perusing, Master Orlyn had returned to his desk at the front of the shop where he signaled for Ty to join him.

  The apothecary individually wrapped each of the herbs in oiled parchment before rolling the entire bundle in a wax sheet and tying it off with a piece of string. “That will be two silvers and three,” he said.

  Ty counted out the few remaining silvers and coppers in his pouch. I hope I have enough left for a sugarstick.

  The tall apothecary slid the coins into his hand as Ty grabbed the wax bundle.

  “Thanks, Master Orlyn, for the help.”

  “You’re most welcome, young Ty. Visit anytime.”

  “Thank you, I will.” Ty closed the door behind him and stepped back out onto the crowded sidewalk. Heading back toward Wood Lane, he attempted to dodge the other townsfolk as they went about their business. He wondered how people could stand living in such a crowded place. He struggled to weave in and out of people’s way as they meandered by, heavy in their conversations and completely oblivious to his presence.

  He made it back to the main intersection at the center of town and turned left on Wood Lane. The spice merchant was the last shop on his list and it was still about five or six shops down on the far side of the road. Passing by Pela’s Bakery, Ty once again found his mouth watering at the smell of freshly baked pies and soft bread.

  He crossed the street trying to avoid an oncoming wagon. It was laden down with a fresh supply of pumpkins, which he figured was probably heading for Mezard’s Chandlery.

  Once inside the shop, Ty dug out his list and rummaged through the jars of spices, while at the same time struggling not to sneeze in response to the strong odor that enveloped the crowded place. How the owner could handle working in there every day, he would never know.

  Thankfully, he was able to gather what he was looking for in short order. He gave the owner his money and left, stepping around a few customers on his way out. With his shopping completed, Ty opened the small coin pouch to find enough coppers left over to make one last stop at Reloria’s.

  He was just tucking his coin pouch back into his tunic when the sound of a familiar voice from somewhere in the crowd ahead caught his attention. Laughing rather loudly, Ty could see Lyessa making her way across River Street with a couple of friends, but instead of continuing on, they turned and were now heading straight for him. He couldn’t tell if she had seen him yet or not.

  Spinning around, he wove his way through the oncoming crowd and turned down the first alley. The sign over the closest door was so faded with age that it offered no clear hint as to the shop’s purpose. But, at the time, all that mattered to Ty was finding a place to hide. He tried the knob. It was stuck. Putting his weight into it, it finally gave way. He had just moved across the threshold when Lyessa and her friends started past the small lane. Before he could get the door shut, she had turned and looked right at him.

  He quickly closed it the rest of the way, leaving only a crack to peek from. Had she seen him? He couldn’t see how she would have missed him. Lyessa wiped a fold of red hair from her face as she studied the fronts of the small shops on both sides. Shrugging, she eventually moved on.

  Ty exhaled his relief before backing away from the door and turning to get a better look at his surroundings. The room was dark. The windows had been draped over, and the only light came from a few candles placed haphazardly around the shelving. He was reaching for the handle to exit when an aged voice from the back broke the silence.

  “The shop’s open, boy, if you care to look.”

  Turning back around, Ty could see someone slouched in a rocking chair near the back. Half her body was masked in the dark shadows of the corner where she sat. The floorboards under her chair creaked as she continued rocking back and forth. A black shawl fell across her lap.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, feeling a growing sense of unease.

  Not wanting to cause offense, Ty decided to have a quick look around and then be on his way. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he started making his rounds. The room held an impressive assortment of oddities, including some gaudy jewelry, dusty chalices, crystal orbs, daggers with strange emblems, and an unusual mixture of exotic herbs and insects. After seeing a cluster of what looked to be shrunken heads hanging from some string in the corner, Ty quickly turned to make his exit, but a small shelf of old tomes caught his eye. Before long, he found himself excitedly flipping through the titles written on the fading spines. He quietly read each one to himself as he thumbed through them. The Foresight of Divination, Poison: The Lost Art, Reshaping the World, Elixirs of Life, The Marked Ones . . .

  “Who or what are The Marked Ones?” Shrugging, he kept looking. It was a rather strange assortment of titles to have in a public shop, Ty thought. Then his eyes caught the second to the last volume, and the hair on his arms stood up. The Hidden Magic of Fae.

  “Magic . . .” Ty wondered how it was possible that a shop like this could be allowed to operate when the very use of the word magic brought with it both fear and trepidation, as well as armed guards in white uniforms.

  Ty pulled the volume from the shelf and opened it, dust flying into the air and around his head. He sneezed after his first inhale. Wiping his nose with his sleeve, he jumped when he realized the old lady was suddenly standing beside him. How long had she been there?

  “What’d you find there, boy?” she asked as she hobbled a little closer, her cane tapping on the wooden floorboards. She reached out with what had to be the oldest, most shriveled hand Ty had ever seen and proceeded to turn over the cover. “Ah, I see’s you have an interest in that which is most dangerous.”

  “Uh . . . no, I was just looking.”

  “More like you were drawn,” she said as she studied his face.

  Ty swallowed. “What do you mean . . . drawn?”

  She cackled. “Not just anyone can find this place. Only those with the gift.” She winked in his direction, before handing him the book.

  “It’s not that hard to miss,” Ty pointed out. “You’re right in the middle of town.”

  “Ah. That’s the fun part. What you see as a shop, those of the jun’ri see as nothing more than a door-less extension of the building next door.”

  Ty cocked his head to the side.

  “Don’t believe me? Then ask yourself why your little redheaded friend didn’t see you.”

  “How did you know about . . .”

  The old woman smiled. “It’s not just that those without the gift don’t see the shop, they are compelled not to. A little bit of magic I learned years back.” The shopkeeper took another step closer to Ty. “Let’s talk about you, shall we. There’s something different about you, isn’t there?”

  Something about the old woman gave Ty a tingling sense of dread. He wasn’t sure whether it had more to do with the way she had crossed the room without him knowing, or the repulsive way her wrinkled flesh seemed to hang from her bones, or the fact she kept inching her way in his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking, but the entire place lent itself to the idea of a cr
eature’s den more so than a simple shop of trinkets.

  Suddenly, the old woman’s head tilted back and she sniffed the air like an animal hunting its prey. Yeah, it’s time to go! Slapping the book shut, Ty tossed it on the shelf and turned to make a speedy retreat. He didn’t make it two steps before the old lady had a hold of his wrist.

  He tried to pull himself free, but stopped when he heard a simmering sort of sound coming from where she was grabbing his arm. It sounded like a wedge of pork grease being dropped into a hot pan. The old woman’s eyes widened in shock. She jerked her hand away and let out a horrific shrill that turned Ty’s blood to ice. She lifted her hand and gawked as the skin around her fingers and palm started molting in clumps and sloughing to the ground. “It’s you!” she screamed, pointing a bony digit in his face.

  If Ty’s eyelids had opened any further, his eyeballs would have fallen out. Terrified senseless, he bolted for the front of the shop, threw open the door, and ran like he’d just seen an old lady melting in front of him. He didn’t even take the time to spare a glance behind to see if the old woman was in pursuit.

  Ty charged out of the alley and plunged headfirst into Lyessa, knocking her clean off her feet and into the arms of her three companions.

  “Ty! What the blazes?” she cried out, trying to gain her composure as well as her footing. “I thought that was you I saw turning down here earlier.” She dusted off the long sleeves of her rumpled dress. “Where’d you go?” Noticing the look on his face and the direction in which he nervously kept glancing, she peered behind him and back down the narrow lane. “What are you looking at?” Her expression was just as befuddled as his. “You look like you just tried absconding with the butcher’s daughter.”

  Without saying a word, Ty turned and half-walked, half-ran in the opposite direction.

  Lyessa left her friends standing on the corner and chased after him. “Where are you going?” she demanded as she tried catching up. “The least you could do is have the decency to talk to me after you practically assaulted me back there!”