Soul Blaze (15 page)

“How are you gonna get me into the palace?” Seff
asked, worry beginning to line her young features.
“They won’t question me.”
“I think they will, miss, no disrespect meant.”
“They can, but I won’t let them turn you away.”

A small smile began to grow on her lips, but it vanished
as we drew closer to the gate. The guards assigned to it
took notice of us and straightened up, their eyes on Seff.
She stepped behind me, one hand curling around my belt.

“Excuse me, miss, you seem to have some street trash
following you,” one of the guards called, his buddies
smirking. I felt Seff’s hand tighten. “Like us to get rid of it
for you?”

“I’d like you to mind what you say,” I replied,
frowning. “Raise the portcullis.”
“Not with her in tow. Sorry, miss.”

I lit a ball of fire in my right hand and felt Seff circle
me until she was as far away from it as she could be whilst
still being close to me.

“You’ll let me through and her as well.”
The guards had frowned at the sight of the magic, but
didn’t seem overly worried about it.
“The governor will be hearing about this.”

“No, he won’t,” I let the fire go out, and then steered
Seff towards the portcullis which was slowly being raised.
“Because if he does, I know who he would have heard it
from, and then I might have to pay you two a little visit.”

I let them chortle as Seff and I ducked under the raised
gate. I wasn’t going to take any chances with Seff; I would
send my father down as soon as I could. He had the ability
to take memories; now I’d give him a chance to use that
power for good.

“Are you really goin’ to beat them up, like you did
them guards that was harrassin’ me?”
“Were harassing,” I corrected. She mouthed the words
slowly. “No, I’ve got something else in mind for them.”

She didn’t ask what, but let me guide her towards the
small palace entrance. I felt her thin shoulders begin to
tremble under my hands as we were enveloped in the
shadow of the enormous building. When I opened the
door to let her through, she didn’t falter in her step, with
only a slight shudder giving away her misgivings.

I led her up towards my room, keeping a close eye on
my surroundings. I didn’t know what had me so on edge,
and when we reached my room I let out an audible sigh of
relief.

“Sky, there you are,” Seff and I turned to see Dena and
my friends approaching. Seff ducked behind me again as
Morri, perched on Dena’s shoulder, shrieked at the sight
of me. “Um, who’ve you brought back?”

I stepped aside, pushing Seff out in front of me.
“This is Seffina, but she prefers Seff,” the girl kept her
gaze on the carpet, her bare toes pushed inwards. “She was

being hassled by some guards in the lower district.”
“And you saved her,” Dena finished for me. A scowl
had formed on her features and it wasn’t going away.
Petre had been examining Seff, and suddenly looked up
at me.
“This girl is a cutpurse,” he said. “Whatever lies she’s
told you-”
“She hasn’t lied to me at all,” I snapped angrily. “I saw a
young girl being bullied and I stepped in.”

Rain and Yasmin were hanging back behind everyone
else, their expressions one of matching concern. Dena,
Theresa and Petre were all scowling at me, but Ispin was
studying Seff with growing interest.

“Forgive me for saying so, young madam, but you look
quite familiar,” Ispin said, stepping forwards and
deliberately shouldering Petre out of the way. Ignoring his
friend’s scowl, Ispin went on. “You don’t happen to have
any family in Gowar, do you?”

“Don’t have no family, sir,” Seff said, so quietly Ispin
had to lean in to hear her. “Just me.”

“Fascinating,” Ispin fixed his glasses and held out his
hand. “I’m Ispin, of house Sempton. My father is Lord
Emmel.”

Seff took his hand carefully, the names and titles
obviously lost on her.
“Familiar or no, she’s a criminal,” Petre had recovered
himself. “Sky, why have you brought her here?”
I opened my mouth to answer but before I could utter a
word, someone spoke behind me.

“Shame on you all,” Larni appeared at my shoulder.
“She’s a young girl, and from the sounds of it Sky rescued
her from something awful. Why are you interrogating
her?”

“The girl is a cutpurse-”
“Are you?” Larni asked Seff. “Are you a cutpurse?”
“Yes,” Seff said defiantly. “I am.”
Petre looked triumphant. Seff wasn’t done speaking.

“I’ve lived on the streets m’whole life. I don’t
remember my mum, never had any dad to speak of, so I’ve
been by myself for a long time. On the streets, you’ve
gotta do anything to survive. So yeah, I lightened a few
purses, but never from them what needed it more than I
did.”

There was stunned silence as she finished. Petre looked
like he’d been smacked in the face. I liked the girl even
more than I had upon meeting her.

“What’s going on?” Jett and my mother had arrived on
the scene.
Petre opened his mouth but closed it as I sent him a
look.

“I’ve brought home a new friend,” I said. “Seff, these
are my parents.” The plural felt rusty on my tongue.
“Mum, Dad, my new friend, Seffina.”

Seff gave a small, awkward wave, and then went back
to staring at the carpet.
“A street kid?” Jett asked, confused.

I quickly explained the situation, the guards and how
our confrontation had finished, and then mentioned the
guards on the gate threatening to tell Ryman that I’d
brought Seff into the palace. Jett nodded, obviously
understanding my unspoken request.

“One more thing,” I said, as he went to head down to
the portcullis. “Seff is going to need some new clothes if
she’s going to stay with me. My purse is too small to
accommodate us both.”

“What are you saying?” Jett asked, his expression stony.

“I’m saying that you should still have a left-over purse,
for my absent year,” I fixed my father with a stare. “Unless
my dear father thought that I wouldn’t return, in which
case I see that as a complete lack of trust in my abilities.”

Jett glared at me for a few seconds, before reaching for
his belt. I caught the purse he threw to me with ease.

“Good to know you have faith in me, father dear.” I
said, kissing him lightly on the cheek as he passed. I heard
only a grumble in response.

“Larni, would you mind getting Seff set up with some
new clothes and maybe a bath?”
“Certainly, miss.”
“Seff, would you like to stay with me?”
She nodded mutely.

“She can’t stay with you,” Rain said, speaking up for the
first time. I went to protest, but she cut me off. “I don’t
mean that she can’t stay in the palace, just that she can’t
be with you all the time.”

“She’s right, miss,” Larni said. “The governor will notice
sooner or later.”
They were right. I chewed my lip.

“I could take her down with me to the kitchens,” Larni
said. “There are many servant girls down there, she
wouldn’t be noticed.”

“Is that ok, Seff?” I asked the girl.
“Work in the palace kitchens?” she repeated. “Yes, I
think I’d like that.”

I watched Larni lead the girl down towards the
kitchens before turning back to my friends. Dena met my
gaze but didn’t say anything. Morri flew to my shoulder,
latching his little claws into my shirt and beginning to
preen some hair that had come loose from my plait.

“So… what’ve you guys been doing?” I asked, desperate
to break the awkward silence.
“We were just about to come and find you,” Dena said.
“Did you want to head back out into the city?”
“Sure.” Dena couldn’t have sounded less enthusiastic if
she’d tried.

The guards on the gate didn’t even glance at us when
we passed; Jett had done his work well. I let Dena lead the
way through the cobblestone streets with Theresa next to
her, happy just to wander through the city and take in the
sights. At one point, they went to head towards where I’d
rescued Seff, but I subtly turned them away. I didn’t need
to find out the hard way that the guards had revived.

Twilight was falling as the city began to come to life.
Eating houses and taverns grew full to bursting with
patrons, the light from the buildings spilling out onto the
street. We came across some performers far from the
palace. We watched with the crowd as the two performers
on stilts breathed fire above our heads.

“They’re Sudafraens,” Rain said, who was standing close
to me. “Look at the markings around their eyes.”

I remembered some of their culture from the Academy,
and shuddered. Suddenly the performance wasn’t as
interesting and we moved away.

We were making sure to stick in our little group. I’d
seen a number of dodgy dealings happening in the small
alley ways that trailed around the main streets. At one
point a man in a long coat approached us and tried to sell
Petre what he claimed was a Du’rangor fang but looked a
lot like a sharpened leg bone of some farm animal. I
steered Petre away before he could buy me an actual
Du’rangor fang; he still liked to call me the Du’rangor
Slayer and would love nothing more than to present me
with some kind of trophy.

“I’m starving,” Ispin groaned a little later. “Can we stop
and get food?”

There were a number of street vendors selling food. We
stopped at one and bought skewers of roasted meat,
flavoured with garlic sauce.

“Inspired by the flavours of Melacore,” the vendor told
us proudly as we pulled the meat off with our teeth.
“What do you think?”

It was amazing. I bought another one from him as we
went to wander on, nibbling on the soft meat. A little
while on, Ispin complained that he needed some kind of
sweet food for dessert and we stopped at another vendor
selling apples coated with sticky caramel. We munched on
them as we sat on the rim of a fountain, watching the city
people. We were so far from the palace that we couldn’t
see it anymore, and it felt like a weight had been lifted
from my shoulders.

“We should head back,” Rain said grudgingly after a
little while. “It’s a long walk and it’s getting late.”
“I’m not ready to head in yet,” I said, leaning back on
the fountain, looking at the stars. “You guys go ahead.”
“We’re not going to leave you out here,” Dena said,
standing up.

“We can have the same argument as before, but the fact
remains that I can defend myself just fine.” I told her
sternly. I didn’t know what Dena’s problem with me was
lately, but I’d had enough of scowls and disapproval from
her.

She sent me another frown and then turned to head
back. My group cast looks at me, but I didn’t meet their
eyes, and they followed Dena back to the palace. I sat on
the edge of the fountain for a bit longer before I stood and
dusted myself off.

I drifted along with the crowd, snagging bits of
conversation here and there. I saw two guards in black
take down a rowdy drunken man and the crowd cheer on
the resulting brawl. The night was loud with a thousand
voices and thick with the smell of the city. I found myself
shunted in front of a tavern, shrugged and headed inside.

Floorboards creaked under my boots as I entered. I felt
my feet stick to various spilled liquids and decided it was
best not knowing what they were. Someone was playing
an off-tune piano in the corner, as tables of loud men
laughed and bellowed at each other. I took a seat at the
counter, looking around the room. The tables were all full,
with one being used for an arm wrestling competition. I
watched the competitors for a moment before a barmaid
caught my attention.

“Mulled wine if you have it,” I said, sliding two coins
across the counter. I added a third when she eyed me off.
She scooped the coins into her hand and bustled off to get
my wine.

Smoke from the fire was filling the room slowly, added
to by the various pipes some of the patrons were smoking.
I watched a group of men play a game of cards with a very
tattered deck, though for as long as I watched I couldn’t
figure out what they were playing.

A yell and cheers brought my attention back to the arm
wrestling. A youth in a filthy tunic too long for his frame
and blonde hair hacked short stood triumphantly, draining
the mead from his tankard. I watched some spill over his
cheeks as the men roared around him. The man he’d just
defeated slunk away, leaving behind a few coins and a half
empty tankard, which the lad seized when he finished his
own.

“Here ya are, miss,” my wine appeared in a tankard in
front of me. The barmaid remained, despite the men
calling for her attention. “If you don’ mind me askin’,
miss, what you doin’ round ‘ere? We don’t get many of
your ilk.”

“My ilk?” I repeated, sipping the wine. Its strong fruity
flavour mixed with the taste of caramel from my candy
apple earlier. “What do you mean by that?”

“Students, miss, students from the Academy.” She leant
closer, giving me a good view of her bosom. “Is it true
what people ‘ave been sayin’, then?”

“Depends on what they’ve been saying.”

“They’re sayin’,” she lowered her voice to the point
where I too had to lean forwards. “They’re sayin’ that the
Masters ‘ave been locked up by some girl.”

“They’ve been saying that, have they? And where
might they have heard that from?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but our attention was
redirected to the wrestling table as the defeated man
returned.

“You cheat!” he was shouting at the blonde youth. “You
filthy cheat!”

The youth responded with something the barmaid and
I couldn’t hear, but the men around the table roared with
laughter. I watched the other man’s face turn beet red, and
suddenly saw the bottle in his hand a second before he
smashed it down on the table.

“Best clear off, miss.” The maid advised, scurrying out
the back.

The brawl had just begun. Seeing the broken bottle, the
blonde youth had flung himself across the table to stop the
man using it. I slid off my stool, unsure whether to leave
or stay, though I didn’t know who I’d help in the
situation.

The man swung the bottle drunkenly, the youth
leaning back to avoid it. One of the men who’d been
watching the wrestling took offence to the attack on his
champion, and threw a chair in his displeasure. It hit the
man playing the piano, who head-butted the keys in a
cacophony of disgruntled notes and stayed there. The man
who’d thrown the chair was set upon by a flying tankard,
thrown by persons unknown, followed by others.