by Jones, Heath
As amazing as the sights and colours, the smells and sounds, of the city are, we’re not here as visiting travellers. After half a day of wandering, a sense of hopelessness descends on me.
“How are we supposed to find the others in a city this size?” I ask.
“I thought you had a plan,” Jarryd replies, raising his eyebrows at me.
I stare at him for a moment, indignant. “Well, I do,” I say. “I’m just frustrated.” I don’t add that I’m frustrated with him as well.
I turn sharply to the left down a broad avenue, acting as though I know where I’m going. Jarryd follows silently beside me. I can see he is trying to keep his lips from curving up into a smile, and it makes me walk faster.
Eventually, I hear the squawking of gulls overhead and realise we are heading towards the docks. As if it were my purpose all along, I say, “We’ll see if The Emperor’s Tide and the Captain are still here. He might be able to tell us where the others went.”
Jarryd nods his ascent.
Above the buildings in front of me, I can see the masts of ships, and after a few more turns we come out into the bedlam of the docks. Sailors and workmen are everywhere, carts and wagons pull cargo to or from the ships, and merchants move through the unloaded goods looking for a bargain before it can be carted to the markets. The dock curves around to either side of us, the natural sweep of the Serat river transformed into a mighty harbour teeming with ships. Standing next to it, the harbour seems like an ocean, and the vast number of hulls and sails on it is breathtaking.
“Good plan, Sara,” Jarryd says.
I round on him, thinking he is mocking me, but he has already set off. Quickly catching up to him, I see where he is heading. Docked a few hundred feet in front of us, is The Emperor’s Tide.
Johannes is overseeing the loading of a crateload of cargo as we approach the gangplank.
“Hello Johannes,” Jarryd says.
Johannes gapes us, seemingly in disbelief, then his face breaks into a huge grin. “Captain!” he yells. When the captain hasn’t arrived after a few seconds, he yells louder, “Captain!”
“What is it?” the captain bellows from the deck, his head appearing over the railing above us. “I’ll be…” he says when he sees us. A booming laugh escapes his lips as he comes running down the gangplank. Without warning he envelops me in his huge arms and lifts me off the ground, spinning me around. “I can’t believe you’re alive, lass,” he says, his face beaming as he sets me down on the ground.
I’m overwhelmed by my welcome. Why is he hugging me like this? Is this the same ill-tempered captain I travelled with?
“Jarryd rescued me from the river,” I reply, for want of anything meaningful to say.
“Ah, yes, the protector,” the captain says, eyeing Jarryd. “You did well.” He turns back to me, and puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “You’re not much to look at,” he says, “but you’re bloody good.” Involuntarily a smile begins to break onto my face before I can stop it. “You’ve still got a lot to turn, but… thank you. You saved us all.”
I’m stunned. To hear the captain praising me like this - I don’t deserve it. I’m embarrassed and wonder how long it will take before everyone realises that I’m not as good as they think I am. “We all fought for our lives,” I say.
“Aye,” he agrees. “We all did.”
“Captain,” Jarryd says, “did the others… our friends… did they…”
“A couple of them are in bad shape,” the captain replies. “but yes, they survived.”
Relief blooms in Jarryd’s face. I can’t blame him. I’m glad to know our friends are all alive as well. But I know Jarryd’s relief is due to knowing Aveline is still alive.
“I lost five of my crew though,” the captain adds sombrely.
Five crew dead. I hadn’t even given them any thought. Taking a proper look at the captain, I see a new scar running across his forehead. Doubtless, there are other scars hidden beneath his clothing. Shame fills me, and I lower my eyes to the ground.
“Dain came back yesterday to let me know they are staying in the Weavers District,” the captain says. “He hoped that you would both still be alive.”
“Thank you, Captain,” I say, looking back up at him.
He watches me for a long moment, thoughtful. “We all bear wounds,” he says at last, his voice unusually quiet. “I can tell your ship has been rocked, lass, but it seems sturdily built. Patch up the holes, keep her seaworthy. The waters are tough, and storms make for hard sailing. Sometimes all you can do to push through them is lower your sails and row. Other times you need to drop anchor, ride them out. But never, never give in to the storm. That’s when you truly lose.” He stops and clears his throat, suddenly looking embarrassed to have said so much. “Just remember lass – you can’t save everyone.” With that, he turns and strides back up the gangplank.
Why did he have to add those last words? I know full well I can’t save everyone. I couldn’t even save my own family.
“Don’t look so surprised, Sara,” Jarryd says.
“Surprised? At what?” I ask, annoyed that even to my own ears I sound surprised.
Infuriatingly, Jarryd laughs, but it is a rich, strong laugh. “You may not think you did anything special on that ship, but sooner or later you’ll have to accept that your actions saved us.”
I open my mouth to object, then close it again.
“Come on,” Jarryd says, his face lit with his smile. He places his hand on my back and leads me away.
His hand feels warm… and nice. I don’t want to break the contact, but his smile, as pleasant as it is, irks me. I strike off ahead of him.
Obtaining directions and finding our way to the Weavers District is easy, but Malikaran is so huge that it takes us the rest of the day. As night falls, a series of people in blue robes begin to appear, making their way through the streets. Light Bearers, the locals call them. I watch as one of them refills a street lantern with oil from her pot, then lights it with her firestick. The lanterns keep the darkness of night at bay, illuminating the streets with an ethereal light. Even in the largest city in the world, there doesn’t seem to be a street or alley we pass that doesn’t emit at least some light. Tigranik must require an army of Light Bearers to keep his royal city illuminated throughout the night. And, no doubt, to ensure fugitives have no place to hide.
The Weavers District, when we finally reach it, is similar to the others we have walked through. The main streets are broad and crowded, illuminated now with lanterns. The side streets and alleys running off them are lined with a profusion of weavers’ shops. Inside, women and men are bent over their looms, while outside merchants call out for customers.
Even though the Weavers District is only one of many, it is still enormous. Asking after our friends proves fruitless – there are just too many people in Malikaran, and none of our friends stand out enough to be remembered. Which, on reflection, is actually a good thing.
“Do we look for somewhere to sleep?” I ask, trying to ignore the aching weariness in my feet.
“I don’t think we’ll need to,” Jarryd replies.
“What do you mean?”
“Just wait,” he says cryptically.
We turn down a narrow, lantern-lit alley, and suddenly I feel the sharp point of a knife pressing into my back.
“Keep your heads forward and keep walking,” a voice breathes behind us.
“Hello Aveline,” Jarryd says, turning around with a beaming smile on his face.
Aveline flourishes a knitting needle – it wasn’t a knife at all - before pocketing it. “How did you know?” she asks, an expression of open astonishment on her face.
“It’s my job, remember?” Jarryd replies. “You’ve been following us for the last half an hour.”
Really? The last half an hour? I had no idea anyone was following us.
A smile slowly breaks out on Aveline’s face. She laughs, a joyful, melodious sound, then jum
ps into Jarryd’s arms. He spins her around delightedly, then kisses her fully.
It’s then that I realise Aveline’s expression wasn’t astonishment, it was disappointment. She’d been hoping to sneak up on us and surprise us – especially Jarryd.
“I hoped,” she says, “but… I thought you were dead. Both of you.”
She looks at me, and the spark of life in her eyes shames me.
Not for the first time, I say, “Jarryd saved me.”
“He was only returning the favour you showed us,” she replies.
“And you…” I stammer, thinking of something else to say, “you look better than the last time I saw you.” Lowering my voice, I add, “I thought the pirate had killed you.”
“The wounds still have a long way to heal,” she replies, her voice equally quiet. “But I’m mending.” Linking her arms between us, she leads us off. “We’ve found a place. But we need to be discreet,” she adds, lowering her voice.
There is a tightness to Aveline’s voice that belies her smiling face. I sense there’s more she wants to say to us but is holding back. It makes me nervous, but I’ve come to trust my friend. If she doesn’t want to tell us something right away, there must be a reason for it. So, choosing my words carefully I ask, “What happened after we… left the ship.”
Aveline smiles at me. “Not a lot – you left just as the game was almost won.” She is as careful in choosing her words as I had been. We are in enemy territory now, and any ear close enough could catch our conversation - we can’t afford loose tongues. I wonder if this is the reason for Aveline’s tension. “All of us needed patching up and the ship needed cleaning. Other than that, it was clear sailing. The captain was very helpful and gave us a detailed description of the city and what is happening.” She gives us both a meaningful look before continuing. “I assume the captain told you where to find us?”
“Yes,” Jarryd replies. “As you said, he is very helpful.”
Aveline nods her head. “What has happened between you two since you left?” she asks.
My head snaps towards her, and I notice Jarryd does the same. Why did she choose those words? Does she suspect feelings have grown between Jarryd and I? “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to hide my growing panic.
Aveline stares at me strangely. “I mean,” she says, as though the question was obvious, “what’s happened for you both in the last few days? How did you finally get here?”
Realizing it was just an innocent question, a wave of relief floods through me. “We ended up on the far side of the river,” I say, calmer now. “We followed it until we came to a garrison, across from the city. We didn’t want to talk to any… strangers… so we built a raft and floated across, waited until dawn then entered the city this morning. Other than that, there’s not much to tell. My wounds are mending, same as yours.”
Aveline is watching me closely. I’m sure she knows there’s something I’m not telling her, but thankfully she doesn’t press me.
Aveline leads us the rest of the way in silence. Stopping in front of a small, rundown building, she knocks three times on the door. The door creaks open a fraction before being fully opened. Alek is standing in the doorway. “Quickly,” he says, ushering us in. Aveline nearly pushes us through the door then follows behind. Alek shuts the door so quickly it nearly catches Aveline coming in.
“Why the need for - ” Alek’s hand over my mouth smothers my question. He shushes me before taking his hand away.
“This way,” he says quietly.
He leads us down the dark hallway. There are doors to either side, but they are all closed. He opens the last door on the left and we follow him inside.
“Alright,” Jarryd says, once the door is closed behind us. “What’s going on?”
“Sara!” Rose exclaims, running over and throwing her arms around me. “I thought you were dead.”
With everything that has happened over the last few days, I’d completely forgotten about my oldest friend. “Not yet,” I reply, as a tear runs down my cheek.
The others are all here, crowded into this small room. Dain comes over to me, smiling, while Theolin stays sitting on the floor, expressionless. In the opposite wall is a boarded-up window, and only a small lantern provides any light to the otherwise empty room.
“Were you seen?” Theolin asks.
“Seen by who?” Jarryd asks. He turns to Aveline. “What’s going on?” he asks again.
“The walls have ears… and eyes,” Aveline says.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It’s the last thing the captain said to us,” Dain answers. “Remember, he knew we came from Storm, and he saw us fight. It was a warning.”
“But… Malikaran seems peaceful,” I say, confused. “What was the captain warning us about?”
“We’re here as assassins,” Alek says. “What other reason do we need to keep our heads down.” He goes over and joins Theolin on the floor.
“You’ve only just arrived,” Rose says. “We’ve been here for a few days already. The longer we’re here, the more I feel like… like there’s always eyes on me. Wherever I go, I feel like I’m being watched.”
“By who?” Jarryd asks.
Silence fills the room. Everyone seems uneasy.
“It’s hard to explain,” Aveline says at last.
“No, it’s not,” Theolin counters. “Everyone is watching us. Or at least that’s what it feels like. There is something about this city and the people…”
“What?” I ask.
Theolin opens her mouth then closes it again, shrugging her shoulders. “You’ll figure it out, Fairgrey.”
Jarryd and I exchange a confused glance. What is going on?
“We haven’t found Vahla Jyn yet,” Dain says, changing the subject.
“We started out asking everyone in the Potters District if they had heard of him,” Rose explains, “but very quickly people started looking at us… differently.”
“We have to be more circumspect,” Alek says. “I don’t know if it’s this Vahla Jyn, or us trying to find him that’s the problem, but people here don’t seem to like strangers asking questions.”
Jarryd shrugs his shoulders. “At least you’ve found a place for us all.”
“It was abandoned,” Dain says. “Alek found it for us. It’s the best we could do.”
There’s barely enough room for us to all lie down at the same time. But we’re used to that. At least we’re together, and a roof over our heads isn’t something to scorn.
The others share the little they have learned about the city since arriving, then we settle down to sleep. I choose a place next to Rose, then try not to watch as Jarryd lies down next to Aveline.
The next morning, we set out for the Potters District in our search for Vahla Jyn.
We split up, with Dain, Rose, and Theolin covering the western half of the district, while Jarryd, Aveline, and I go east. We don’t feel it’s safe for any of us to be by ourselves, but Alek insists he can search better on his own. He isn’t much company anyway, so we don’t argue with him for too long.
The Potters District is not much different from the Weavers District. A haphazard collection of buildings, both large and small, line the main avenues, while small houses, tenement buildings, and workshops fill the smaller streets and alleys.
Aveline cautions us to be discreet, and after my first failed attempt to engage an old woman selling fruit, asking if she knew a man named Vahla Jyn, I begin to understand why. The woman, who had been so eager to call me over and inspect her fruit, turns cold and ignores me to hail another potential customer.
“See what I mean,” Aveline whispers as we walk away from the old woman’s stall.
“But… why?” I ask.
“We don’t know,” Aveline replies. “But it is making our search difficult. And dangerous.”
Difficult yes, but dangerous? That seems like an overreaction.
We wander through the streets and alleys, asking the
occasional stranger if they know Vahla Jyn. The responses are all the same – a cold glare followed by a stubborn refusal to talk to us anymore. The reactions are so at odds with a city which seems, on the surface at least, so friendly.
Eventually, we come to the end of a meandering alley and out into an open square. I stop, stunned. The square is massive – it must be at least a thousand paces wide and extends left and right as far as I can see. The square is filled with a sea of people, many eating at tables as servants wade amongst them carrying trays loaded with food and drink. But it is not the square that holds my attention.
On the other side of the square is the low wall that surrounds the Royal District. The wall is a beautiful green mottled with white, with a crenelated tower every hundred paces. In the middle of the wall, almost directly in front of me, is a gate, the likes of which I have never seen before. The gate is closed but looks to be made of one gigantic, dark blue opal which has been cut in half. An image has been engraved on the opal, but it is too far away to make out what it is. Above the wall, I can see the flowing, wave-like roofs of the buildings and the tops of green trees sprinkled with pink flowers. And there in the distance, standing on a hill in the middle of the Royal District, is the Royal Palace. The square, with the wall, the opal gate, and the city behind it, looks idyllic.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“Look closer,” Aveline says.
At first, I don’t see anything unusual. The bustle in the square is no more or less hectic than I would expect. Likewise, the noise from the crowds is nothing out of the ordinary. I can’t see anything… then I notice what Aveline wants me to see. Peace Bringers perch in the towers, looking down over the square. In between each tower, more Peace Bringers patrol back and forward in front of the wall. And there is a wide space of maybe a hundred paces in front of them where nobody dares to approach.
“It may look peaceful out here,” Aveline says, “but they guard it like a fortress.”
“It is the Royal District,” Jarryd observes drily. “You’d expect them to defend the home of the emperor.”