by Alex Linwood
Portia looked around wildly for help. There was no one close by. Closing her eyes, she focused on creating strong light flashes in front of the man’s eyes. He exclaimed in pain and loosened his grip on her arm. She stopped the flashes and then looked. Both the man and Finrod were rubbing their eyes. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to warn Finrod. Portia grabbed Finrod by the hand and ran with him a few feet down the alley, away from their attacker.
But there was no obvious place to hide. Portia knew the man’s vision would return to him before they could escape at the far end of the alleyway. Nor was there an easy way to hide the sounds of their footsteps as they ran. She pulled Finrod with her to a pile of garbage in the alleyway then crouched down next to it, tucking Finrod under her arm. She held her finger up to her lips for him to be quiet. Once they settled there, she created duplicates of both her and Finrod. Finrod saw the duplicates and his eyes widened once again. He looked at her in shock. She once again motioned for him to be quiet. It was important for him to not make a sound.
Putting the duplicates in the middle of the alleyway, she focused for a second on herself and the real Finrod. She imagined darkness around them—a blackness that would fade into the alley wall. She had heard of the spell while in the Academy. It was not invisibility, not exactly—more of a suggestion to any who might look at the person casting the spell—a suggestion that they were not there. Whoever was looking should only see a patch of blackness. She wished she had spent more time practicing these odd spells she had heard about, but no one was supposed to know about her abilities as a Jack. She had been afraid that if she was caught doing an unusual spell, her secret would be out.
Looking at Finrod, she had a hard time actually seeing him. His face flickered in and out, mostly replaced by a dark shadow. If she hadn’t known he was there, she wouldn’t have seen him at all. Hopefully they were truly invisible to all others. She did not want the strange man to see them sitting there on the ground, vulnerable in their hiding spots.
A few curses from the man reminded her that he was still there in the alley searching for them. Quickly she directed the duplicates to run away. She focused on making sure they made the sounds of footsteps just in case he wasn’t watching the direction they had gone. His yell told her he had spied them running away.
“Horrible children. I’m going to get ten lashes for that for sure. I’ll kill them. No one’s going to cost me my ale tonight,” he said, rage in his voice. He ran after the duplicates, his footfalls reverberating down the alleyway.
Once quiet returned, Portia felt she could finally breathe again. She willed her heart to slow down. Releasing her grip on Finrod, she saw there were white marks on his forearm where she had held him tight. She gave him a look of apology and rubbed his arm.
“Well, that was exciting. Do you know why that man might have wanted us—or you specifically?” she asked Finrod. She spoke softly, just in case the man returned and was within hearing distance.
“Maybe he was my father’s rival. Lots of kids have been disappearing. That’s why I’m never allowed to go anywhere alone anymore and I’m stuck here with you,” Finrod said, pulling away from her to stand and kick at the ground.
“Hey. That’s not very nice. Do you want me to call him back and turn you over to him?”
Finrod looked at Portia, alarm in his face, until he realized she was kidding. He looked down again, abashed. “Sorry.”
“No problem. Just be nice to me,” Portia said, pulling herself up. She concentrated on keeping the spell of darkness over both her and Finrod as they walked down the alleyway. She did not want to risk being seen again, not by anyone except for the person they were meeting, his uncle Wren.
“Are there really a lot of missing children?” she asked, concerned.
He nodded. “My dad says it’s up to twenty now. All higher born.”
Portia doubted it was only the higher born children that were snatched. If the city was anything like Valencia, no one kept track of the lower born. They could all be murdered, and no one would know the difference. But she didn’t bother to tell Finrod that. Some things were just too sad, and if he didn’t already know it, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him about what happens to poor children.
When they finally reached the open space in front of the south gate Portia relaxed the darkness spell enough so that others could easily see them. There were many elves and humans wandering about in the courtyard in front of the gate, far too many witnesses for someone to try to grab them again. There were also dozens of guards dressed in chain mail and helmets, all armed with narrow swords.
It felt safer there.
Portia looked around the square, realizing she had no idea who she was looking for except that it was an elf named Wren. She looked down at Finrod. “Do see your uncle?”
He pointed to an elf in a fancy uniform. It looked expensive. But it wasn’t a military uniform. Instead, it was a rich suit of deep green velvet with long tails in the back of his jacket and a cloth at his neck tied in a fancy complicated knot.
Portia sucked in her breath. “Is he a nobleman?”
Finrod laughed. “I’m going to tell him that. He’ll be happy. No, he’s a butler. He says his boss is a cranky old goat who will have his neck if he doesn’t dress the part. But Wren likes him because he gives him lots of money.”
Portia choked back a laugh. She reminded herself to never tell this kid anything personal about herself if she ever saw him again.
They walked towards Wren. The elf’s face lit with happiness upon seeing his nephew, but his expression turned to alarm when he saw that his nephew was holding the hand of a human girl.
Portia quickly spoke. “It’s okay. His parents will tell you about it. Celaireth and Mawon.”
Finrod ran to Wren, who picked him up and swung him around in his arms. Wren gave a curt nod to Portia and then walked into the gate, leaving her standing outside alone. Finrod waved goodbye to Portia over Wren’s shoulder as he was carried away.
“You’re welcome,” Portia muttered to herself. She suddenly felt unclean. Being a human in Rocabarra city was not easy. A little common courtesy would have gone a long way, but apparently she was not worthy of that.
Suddenly she felt angry at the situation she was in—it was impossible. She had risked her life to pass a test to learn elf magic, and according to the seers, the end of the world was coming. Yet here she was, mucking around in some elf city trying to be a friend of the city. If the coming Splintering was such an emergency, then why were they playing around like this? She didn’t understand politics. It just seemed ridiculous. They were wasting time.
They were wasting her time.
She glared at all those around her, but no one would make eye contact.
The wave of anger left her just as suddenly as it had come. Railing at the situation would not help. She sighed and kicked at the ground herself. She had learned to be pragmatic a long time ago. Getting things done was how she fed herself and survived on the streets. Getting things done now would help her survive again and learn what she needed to learn to help others.
And one thing she could do here was to investigate the missing children. If there were really twenty children missing, and probably a great deal more, then finding what was going on would be more than enough to make her a friend of the city. Helping one child reach home safely was good, but it was not all that impressive. If she could help twenty, or find out what happened to them, then her help would be undeniable. They would have to admit her to the inner city and let her study the magic of healing the splinter.
She squared her shoulders and walked the way she had come, back to the alley where the man had threatened her and Finrod.
When she finally reached it, the sun had set, and it was fully dark out. Portia wasn’t happy about this, but she didn’t want to wait until morning to search for clues. If the man had dropped anything or thought to cover up his actions, then waiting until morning would give him too much ti
me to fix things. Besides, she was impatient to get into the inner city and fulfill her task of learning the magic of healing the splinters. She was sick of wasting time. So Portia braved the dark. She figured she could use her magic light in the alleyway to see clues.
But when she got there, she heard rustling around further in the alleyway. There was someone else there. She crept into the opening, keeping herself along one of the walls, to see who it was. At first, her eyes couldn’t see anything since the alley was much darker than the street. The walls were so close that little moonlight made it inside. But slowly a figure came into focus. It was much smaller than the man had been.
The figure stopped moving abruptly and then turned slowly to face Portia. It was an elf. A female, serious, if not downright angry, elf. “State your business.”
“I… thought I had dropped something,” Portia stammered. She didn’t know why she made up an excuse. It felt like a habit to not reveal everything. And she had no idea who that person was.
“Something? You do understand that sounds very suspicious, don’t you?” the elf said, turning to face Portia fully. “This is not a safe area to be after dark. Not for anyone so young, anyway. Not even a young human.”
Portia could not agree more with that. “I know.”
“How would you know?” The elf didn’t wait for Portia to reply. “I’m going to have to ask you to come onto the street and show me any ID you have. Or traveling papers. You don’t strike me as a resident of Rocabarra.”
“I’m not,” Portia said. She followed the elf to the mouth of the alleyway where the light was better from the moon. Anxiety gripped her heart. She could make a run for it, but she didn’t know who the elf was or if she had any accomplices nearby. When they stepped into the main street, the elf’s uniform shone under the moonlight. There were metal bars on each shoulder. This was someone with authority in the city. Portia was glad she had not taken off and then been caught. That would have been the end to any possible friend of the city status.
“I’m Sergeant Lyren. I’m in charge of investigating crime in this city. Kidnappings, specifically,” the elf said. She opened a tiny leather portfolio and flashed a metal badge at Portia and then shut the portfolio again quickly before Portia could get a good look at it. “It’s suspicious of you to be in this alleyway. I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here? I need to see the traveling papers you have.”
Portia swallowed nervously. She didn’t know what papers Lyren wanted. And she also wished she had not made up the lie in the beginning about losing something. But she had done so and now had to face up to it. She would not make it worse by continuing to lie. That much at least she’d learned during her time at the Academy. “I… I don’t have any papers.” At Lyren’s irritated look she rushed on. “I was brought here by someone else. The reason I’m in this alley is that I’m looking for clues. I, and a boy named Finrod, were nearly kidnapped earlier this evening. Less than an hour ago. We were here and a human man tried to grab us both when I wouldn’t let Finrod go with him.”
Lyren crossed her arms and stared at Portia, squinting. “There is so much wrong with that story. First off, why would you be escorting an elf boy? And how did you get away? You’re a tiny thing. Or were you in league with the adult human and something went wrong?”
Portia shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She had nothing but her word. Then she remembered Lady Harper. “I’m telling the truth. I was brought to the city by Lady Harper to meet the royal family. It’s been delayed by some politics I don’t understand. To fix things, I’m supposed to be doing good things for the city, which is how I ended up escorting the young elf.”
Sergeant Lyren’s eyebrows raised at the name Lady Harper. “I would be very interested in confirming this with Lady Harper herself.”
“Sure. But I don’t know when she’s coming back. She doesn’t tell me ahead of time,” Portia said. She knew it sounded suspicious.
“I don’t mind waiting. Where is it that she comes back to?” Lyren said.
“The inn where I’m staying.”
“Then let’s go there.”
Portia did not want to lose the opportunity to look for clues. “Can we search the alleyway first?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Some clue as to who our attacker was?” Portia asked.
Sergeant Lyren considered this, looking into the black alleyway. “If there was another officer with me, perhaps. But since it is just you and I, and I don’t know who you are just yet, I think we should head back to the inn now.” Her tone brooked no argument. Portia shrugged her shoulders and turned towards the inn.
“My name is Portia.”
The only response was a grunt from the sergeant as she followed Portia.
Once they reached the inn, it only took a flash of Sergeant Lyren’s badge for the innkeeper to offer the hospitality of the private parlor. He squinted at Portia, who turned red under his scrutiny. She was giving him much fodder for his tales after evening supper.
When the innkeeper returned with a bottle of wine, Sergeant Lyren whispered something to the innkeeper’s ear who then went off in a hurry.
Sergeant Lyren poured herself a glass of wine and then sat down heavily in one of the chairs by the fireplace. “I sent word for Lady Harper to join us, and then we shall hear what we shall hear. I hope for your sake you’re not lying about knowing her.”
“I’m not,” Portia said. She bit her lip, wishing she had not said anything at all. She had no reason to feel so defensive. She wanted to find a way to get the sergeant on her side. “The child said that perhaps it was one of his father’s rivals. He said others have been kidnapped too.”
Sergeant Lyren waved the information away with one hand. “It’s common knowledge about the kidnappings. You’d need something more specific to help me. Like the name of the rival.”
“I don’t know the name of the rival, but his father’s name is Mawon and his mother’s is Celaireth. His uncle’s name is Wren. Apparently he’s the butler to some rich person in the inner city. Will this be enough to tell you who the rival is?”
“Perhaps. It’s something. And you say the child’s name is Finrod?”
Portia nodded.
Lady Harper rushed into the room, surprising Portia. She must’ve already been at the inn, or very close to it, for there was no other way she could arrive so quickly. “Evening, Sergeant,” Lady Harper said, giving the sergeant a nod.
Sergeant Lyren rose from her seat and nodded back. “My gratitude at your quick appearance.”
“Anything for an old friend,” Lady Harper said, her voice tense. Portia wondered if there was history between the two of them. She motioned for Sergeant Lyren to sit back down and grabbed her own chair by the fire.
“This human child says you are her guardian in Rocabarra. Is this true?”
Lady Harper turned towards Portia and raised her eyebrows. “Guardian? I would say escort is more appropriate. I brought her here from Coverack. She is a ward of the royal house. Her name is Portia Harris.” Lady Harper opened her bag and pulled out the papers she’d been given by the queen and king consort. She handed them over to Sergeant Lyren.
Ward of the royal house? This was news to Portia. She wondered what it meant.
Lyren opened the folded papers and scanned them quickly. Abruptly she folded them again and handed them back to Lady Harper. She nodded curtly. “I see.”
“Can I ask what is going on here?” Lady Harper asked.
Portia felt responsible. She hoped they had not greatly inconvenienced Lady Harper. “I was helping someone, and we were nearly kidnapped by—”
“I must ask you to stop speaking at once,” Sergeant Lyren said, interrupting Portia’s story.
“I don’t understand,” Portia said. Lady Harper tilted her head at Sergeant Lyren as well. They both stared at the sergeant.
“This is an active investigation. I must ask you not share any information, Portia Harris, not even with Lady
Harper. But it would be most useful if you would assist me with what you know—in confidence.”
Portia nodded her understanding.
Lady Harper was even quicker in her thinking. “Of course Portia will help you. And of course I don’t need to know any details. But I do ask, I must ask you though, that if she provides any material assistance you’ll willingly attest that she is a friend of the city.”
“Ah, politics. My least favorite. But if she can help me close these cases, then yes, I will testify for your young friend here. But the help must be substantial,” Sergeant Lyren said.
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Portia said before Lady Harper could say anything else.
Sergeant Lyren swallowed the last of her wine and set the glass down on the sideboard. She rose. “Excellent. I will be here tomorrow morning just after breakfast. Be ready to go.” She nodded then exited the room.
Lady Harper gave Portia a smile and a thumbs-up. “Excellent work, young lady. Not even half the day and you have already made progress. I’m beginning to see what your kingdom sees in you.”
Portia flushed with pride.
Chapter 12
Portia rose early the next morning, anxious to get going. She was able to take a bath before breakfast. Luckily, her finest outfit was still clean enough to wear, for she had washed it the previous night instead of falling into bed utterly tired. Unsure what the day was going to bring, she splurged and ordered a full breakfast of meat and eggs and bread. Lady Harper did not eat as much as Portia wanted to, so she thought Sergeant Lyren might also be the same. Nothing was worse than being hungry while trying to get serious work done.
Once breakfast was over, she was too impatient to wait in the dining area. Instead, she went outside and paced up and down the street while waiting for Sergeant Lyren. Finally, the elf appeared, looking exactly as she had the previous night. The metal bars on her shoulder sparkled under the strong morning sun.