Mystic: A Book of Underrealm (17 page)

“We forgive him,” said Loren. “You have both helped us beyond measure. Do not punish him for that.”

Bubble blinked twice, slowly, the thin film of his eyelids glistening in the torchlight. “This is a grand thing that you do. A good thing. Bubble thanks you.”

Loren felt herself blushing, warm against the chill of her wet clothes. “’Tis what anyone would do.”

Above them, Xain looked back and forth warily. “We need to move on, and quickly. If anyone were to see four soaked strangers sitting by the rivergate, it would not take long to work out what has happened.”

Loren nodded to him and turned back to Bubble. “You have our gratitude, Bubble. If ever you require my help, consider me at your service.”

“And that is no idle promise,” said Gem. “’Tis a promise from the Nightblade.”

Bubble blinked. “Bubble does not know this word.”

“Hush, Gem,” said Loren, casting him an evil eye.
 

“Nightblade is her,” he said, pointing at Loren. “And she is the greatest thief in the nine lands, or soon will be. She is cloaked in darkness, and no lock can keep her from coin or treasure.”

“Gem! Enough!” Loren barked.
 

Everyone flinched and looked around for guards. Loren went on in a whisper. “That is enough. Bubble, we must leave. If ever I pass by your lands, I will try to visit you again and bring token of my thanks. Until then, fare well. And do not forget to tell Stream that Annis is all right.”

Bubble nodded slowly. “Bubble will do this. Fare well, Nightblade.”

He turned, leapt into the water, and vanished with nary a splash.

Loren turned on Gem. “Just what was all that about? I am cloaked in soaking, filthy clothes, not darkness.”

“Words of your deeds have already spread throughout Cabrus,” said Gem, shrugging. “Why should they not spread farther?”

“You are being ridiculous,” Loren growled. “Bubble has seen us do no deeds except nearly drown in a river.”

“Men have grown famous for less,” said Gem.

They slipped into the city’s dim torchlight, searching for an inn to dry themselves and sleep. Fortunately, it did not take long to find one, and the innkeeper greeted them joyously with a free dinner when they did. They soon learned that the city had nearly emptied, as all in Wellmont grew fearful of the army at their gates.

Loren had wondered how they would pay for their room, but Xain produced a coin from a hidden pocket. Loren raised an eyebrow, for she had thought the wizard had spent all of his money on provisions upon leaving Redbrook.
 

Xain shrugged. “I learned long ago never to spend your last coin unless at the end of utmost need.”

And so they seemed to be. The free meal was fortunate, for they had no money with which to buy food. Loren did not know how they would pay for a second night if they stayed in the city. They huddled near the common room’s fire to dry off, for their only other clothing was stowed in their packs, which had gone beneath the rivergate with them. They devoured their fare and traded glances from hooded eyes.

Annis finally broke the silence. “What will we do tomorrow?”

“Live in an alley, I suppose,” said Gem. “’Tis not so bad as you might think, though I understand a merchant’s daughter like yourself might disagree.”

“We will have to find somewhere to work for coin,” said Xain. “At least enough to pay for passage from the city.”

“How?” said Annis. “Bubble said they let no one in or out.”
 

“Not through the river,” said Xain. “But mayhap we can leave by the northern road. No army besieges the city there, so they may let some leave.”

“We cannot afford to wait long enough to earn coin,” said Loren. “We must go in the morrow, and not any later. We can trade work for passage.”

“Work?” Xain scowled. “What work can we four offer?”

“Guard work?” Even as the words left Loren’s lips she heard their absurdity. She had only her dagger and Xain his knife. A wizard he might be, but surely a caravan driver would prefer steel and armor to powerful words.

Xain snorted. “We will have to work for the coin.”
 

“We could always steal it,” Annis said. “I have it on the best authority that we dine with the greatest thief in all the nine lands.”

Gem smiled. Loren frowned, eyes on her food.

twenty

ONCE THEY HAD DRIED THEMSELVES enough they went to bed, laying their clothing all across the room to let the water drain from it. But though the summer night was warm, it did not prove warm enough. They woke to find their things still damp and smelling faintly of mildew.

“Ugh,” said Gem, curling his nose. “This will only get worse as we travel on, I do not doubt.”

“If mold is our worst problem in the days to come, I shall count us lucky,” said Xain.

“Do you know where you mean to look for work today?” Loren said. “You know this city, do you not?”

“I do but not as well as some others. We might try the inns, but if their guests have fled Wellmont they will not need more mouths to feed. The smiths, no doubt, are busy making weapons and armor. Can you pull a bellows?”

“I can learn,” said Loren. “Annis, you should remain here today and keep an eye on our clothing. You can take it down to the fire a few pieces at a time to help it dry faster.”

“I wish you fortune plying honest trade,” said Gem. “As for me, I will gather coin in the manner to which I am accustomed.”

“Meaning steal it,” said Annis, sniffing slightly.

“You are yourself a thief, do not forget.” Loren pushed Annis gently on the shoulder. The girl had not quite recovered from her fright the night before, and Loren wanted to nudge her out of it. Those who lived in fear were often unpredictable and hard to count upon in time of need. Annis gave her a wan smile in return.

They asked the innkeeper, who did not know any smiths looking for hands but recommended they try the craftsman’s quarter in the city’s northwest corner. So as Annis laid out their clothing, they slipped through the front door and into the city streets.
 

Gem tagged along, saying, “Where there are crafts and trade, there is coin.” The marketplace would surely have purses to lift.

Loren wore her black cloak again, enjoying the looks it attracted in the early morning light. With a plain-clothed man at her side and an urchin boy at her heels, she probably looked like some lesser noblewoman with a valet and footman.
 

But the city’s mood soon dampened her own. Everyone seemed on edge, looking at one another with wariness if not outright fear. A somber reminder that these people were besieged. Mayhap some had lost friends or family. That sobered Loren, and it seemed less amusing to play the little noblewoman.

In the craftsman’s quarter, they found many smiths hard at work but none in need of assistants. In each they saw strong young men pounding at anvils and pulling hard on bellows. Same at the fletchers, where men sat at benches by the dozens nailing arrowheads and feathering shafts. One fletcher was willing to take on more, but when they asked for a gold weight a day he grew angry.

“You see these men? I pay them two silver pennies, and they already know what they are doing. You looking to get rich off the war? Become a soldier, and hope you take no arrow in the eye. And that the mayor forgets to pay you not.”

Gem, on the other hand, did quite well for himself. By midday, he had already gathered several pennies. It bought them lunch, at least, when they rejoined Annis at the inn.

“The fletcher’s right, you know,” said Loren. “These people work for more than coin. They labor to save their city. We look like grave robbers, asking for enough money to get beyond the walls.”

“What do you suggest?” Xain said. “’Tis easier to see a plan’s flaws than to conjure your own.”

Loren said, “I had thought of a plan, in fact, but it is not . . . respectable.”

Xain’s eyes narrowed. “Tell us. We left the bounds of respectability many rivers behind us.”
 

Annis shifted in her seat and looked about nervously. Gem leaned in to listen. Loren drew a breath.

“They cannot have closed the gates entirely. Still, some wagons must be let through. To bring in and sell supplies at least, else the city starves. And if those wagons enter, some must leave.”

“Guard work again?” said Xain. “They will take one look at the children and throw us out. And neither you nor I have arms or armor, nor the skill to wield them.”

“I know something of swordplay.” In truth, Loren had only the one dance with Gregor when she rode with a merchant caravan, so it was an idle boast—but Xain knew it not. “But guard work is not what I plan. Supplies from outside Wellmont will be few and precious. Any merchant who plies his trade will gain a fat purse.”

Gem’s eyes lit up. “And a fat purse could buy our way out.”

“Just so,” Loren nodded. “If we could liberate even a single wallet, that might be enough. We could buy our way on a wagon—or at least get supplies and bribe a guard to let us out the gate.”

“The Nightblade you are indeed.” Gem laughed.

Loren frowned.

Xain still looked dour, his nervous twitching increased. “I think you view the task too lightly. It would not do you well to believe all the stories you tell others about yourself. Are you a master thief in truth or only in aspiration? For no merchant will simply leave an idle purse, its strings awaiting a kiss from your dagger. They will be hidden and will have guards.”

Loren shrugged. “Then ignore the merchants. Seek the craftsmen who come here from their farms and villages. They will have thinner purses, but a scanty purse unguarded is better than one fat under lock and key.”

Xain looked at her in surprise. “These are not wealthy folk you mean to rob. I had not thought you so ruthless.”

“Ruthlessness?” said Loren angrily. “No. ’Tis necessity. Do you think I jest when I say another army marches upon this place? I know what I mean to do. I grew up in such a village. Losing the sale of a single cartload will cause no one to starve, only to tighten their belts for a few months. Do we truly wish to invite our doom?”

The party fell silent. Xain looked away, Annis stared at the table, and Gem gazed upon Loren with awe. She saw a respect in the boy’s eyes that had not there before, something beyond his usual affection. She was not sure whether to be pleased or not.

Xain picked at his elbow, his eyes drifting to Annis. “I should come. In case you are discovered and more powerful measures are required to aid your flight. Annis, too.”

“Why Annis?” said Loren.
 

“She has the stones. I might need their aid again.”

Something came over Xain as he spoke, and Loren did not like it. His eyes gleamed with a curious light, akin to and yet unlike their glow while casting magic. His lips drew back from his teeth, and the hunger in his face was unmistakable. Loren felt the desire to move far away.

“We mean to prey on peasants, not wizards,” she said. “You should come, yes, but Annis should remain to guard our gear, paltry though it may be.”

Xain’s mood soured. “If you do not respect my counsel, you may excuse yourself from my help. I will stay too, then, and help Annis tend to our things.”

Loren felt something wrong in her gut. She did not know what this was about but did not like it and knew with certainty that she had no wish to leave the wizard with Annis, not even for a moment alone.

“You will come with us, or we will not go at all,” she said. “You spoke truly in the first place: If we are hard beset, we shall need you. I will not risk both our lives on this errand without your help.”

Xain’s jaw clenched once, twice, a third time. The fingers of his right hand ceased their endless picking and formed into a fist. Loren readied herself to spring back from the table, dragging Annis with her. But then the wizard he sighed, and Loren saw some of his frustration leave him.
 

“Very well,” he said, his voice hollow and quiet. “We shall do as you say—Nightblade.”

“Good.” Loren tried to sound as if she had noticed nothing amiss. “We should be off at once, then.”

“But I am not finished!” said Gem, through a mouthful of stew-soaked bread.
 

“Get up, Gem.”

She dragged him from the table, his fingers grasping at the scraps on his plate, and they left the inn. As Xain readied himself, Loren stepped aside and whispered to Annis.

“Where are the stones?”
 

“Within my cloak, as they have always been,” said Annis.

“Find another place to keep them. Off your person, if you can help it. They are too important to risk, and my trust that Xain will not steal is ill.”

“Steal them? But I thought we meant to deal with him after all this—to give him half our store.”

“We did,” said Loren, but corrected herself hastily. “That is, we do. But he may mean to claim his share early and leave us with nothing.”

“Is he dangerous?” Annis looked over Loren’s shoulder to where he was stooped and lacing his boots.

“He is a wizard. They always are.”

“Ready, girl?” came Xain’s voice behind her.

Loren turned with a smile. “Ready and eager. The Nightblade prepares to strike again.”