He hurried on, heading toward the room he shared with Sam. As he approached, he saw a figure waiting near the door. Alec slowed, not wanting to turn back, but suddenly fearful of another attack.
Could word have gotten to Bastan already?
But that didn’t look like Bastan. Alec from what he’d heard, Bastan would have others with him, likely as guards. It was unlikely for him to have come by himself.
“Can I help you?” Alec asked, his gaze drifting to the door. The man seemed to block it, preventing him from entering.
“Alec Stross?”
Alec frowned. “That’s me.”
“Aelus Stross hired me to bring this to you.”
The man held out a folded piece of paper with a wax sigil on it. Alec took it, frowning to himself. “He did? Why didn’t he come himself?”
“Probably because of this section. I’m as likely as not to get jumped just for coming here. Not sure it was worth the five coppers he paid me to deliver this to you.” The messenger held out a small scrap of paper for Alec to sign. He scratched his signature across it, and the man folded and stuffed it into his pocket. “What brings you out here, anyway? He said you were his son.”
Alec nodded. “I have a friend here.”
The messenger started to grin. “Yeah? I have friends like that, too, but I tend to choose them in nicer sections. If you’ve got enough money, you can find friends like that anywhere.”
Alec started shaking his head, but it wasn’t worth his time to argue.
He nodded farewell to the man and headed into the building. When he opened the door to the space they shared, Sam wasn’t there. He took a seat at the table and held the paper in his hands.
There was no mistaking the sigil, deeply pressed into the wax and embossed on the paper itself. It was a mark of the university. Alec understood why his father wouldn’t have brought the university’s answer himself. He’s well aware of the dangers in Caster. But Alec would have expected a note from him, given the likely content of the missive.
Unless it was because his father already knew what it said. If that was the case, maybe there was no point in him bothering to open it. But he needed to know.
Alec slipped his finger under the sigil, pulling it open.
His gaze skimmed over the words. A mixture of excitement and nausea settled through him.
He had passed.
There was a time when he would’ve wanted nothing more than to have passed the university test and to learn what they could teach him so he could become a physicker, but so much had changed for him since then. If he accepted, he felt sure it would drive a wedge between him and Sam.
He glanced over at the satchel that contained his documentation. Page after page of notes. The satchel also contained the pages of easar paper. There wasn’t much of it left, barely enough to document a few more augmentations. If they didn’t acquire more soon, they would no longer be able to practice.
Maybe that was part of his decision. He had hoped to use his abilities to help others, maybe to further his healing, but how could he do that without Sam? He had a small supply of her blood in the ink he’d already mixed, but without the paper, it would be of no use.
Alex set the page down. He had to admit that he did feel excited. It was satisfying to know that he had the knowledge and potential skill to be accepted to the university, but now that he had, he had to make a decision. A part of him wanted to talk to his father, but a greater part wanted to find Sam and apologize, to tell her that he’d made a mistake sharing the information with her the way that he had. He should have planned that conversation better.
The door to the small room opened and Sam appeared.
She glanced at him, quickly noting the paper on the table before looking up to meet his eyes. “Is that…”
Alec nodded.
“So. Were you accepted?”
“I was.”
“What’s the problem then?” She stepped into the room, closing the door.
“It’s just that now that I’ve been accepted, I’m not exactly sure what I want,” he said.
Sam took a seat and pulled page toward her, skimming the words. As much as Sam often considered herself nothing more than a lowborn, Alec doubted there were too many in the section who would be able to read what was on that page as quickly as Sam managed. Not only was she strong, she was incredibly smart. They were traits he appreciated about her.
“This says that you start soon,” Sam said.
“That’s what it says. If I choose to go.” He already knew what he would choose. He couldn’t stay here. The attack on him made it clear that he didn’t belong in Caster.
Sam leaned forward, looking up at him through strands of her blonde hair. “Why wouldn’t you accept this? Isn’t it what you wanted? You said you wanted to heal others. You said you wanted to use your knowledge and make a difference.”
“I did. And I do. With our dwindling supply of paper…”
Sam waved her hand. “I can always find more paper. In fact, that’s what I’ve been trying to do.” She reached across the table and took his hands in hers, fixing him with an earnest gaze. “I can’t change the person that you are. You’re an apothecary—a healer. I’ve known that from the moment I met you. Because of that ability and the person that you are, I’m alive today. If not for you and your abilities, I would’ve died from the Theln’s poison. You saved me. I can’t—and won’t—try to change that about you. If that means that you go to the university and that we’re separated, that is what must happen.”
Alec looked down at the page. “I want to understand what we can do, but I also think there are other ways we can use our gifts beyond simply augmenting ourselves. There has to be more to them than that.”
“You’re probably right. We need to find ways to use them more creatively.”
There was something about her quick agreement that troubled him. It wasn’t that she was now supportive of him. That was a pleasant surprise, but there had to be something else going on.
“Why are you suddenly so agreeable?”
“I thought you would be happy that I’m agreeing with you.”
“I am. But I can tell there’s something you’re not sharing. Does it have to do with the supply of paper? Does it have to do with the attack on Bastan’s tavern?”
“I just want you to be happy with whatever you decide. That’s it.” Her gaze drifted to the unfolded piece of paper, the sigil of the university showing.
Maybe that was it. Maybe she only wanted him to be happy. “I will make a point of finding time to keep working with you,” Alec said. “I don’t know what they will ask of me or how much free time I’ll have, but I will make this work.”
“I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I should have been happy for you from the beginning. You don’t deserve to have me pouting and acting as I did.
“You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m just glad that we can work through this so that I don’t lose you.”
Sam shook her head. “You’re not going to lose me. Ever.”
Alec wished he could believe that but wondered if it was possible. Now that he had been summoned to the university, and now that he had decided to go, would they be able to maintain their connection?
17
Another Job
Sam was getting tired of following Marin around the city. Every time she trailed her, she ended up losing the woman, and just once—once—she wanted to catch her and see what more she could figure out.
It wasn’t so much that she wanted to know what Marin was after, though that was a part of it. It was more that she wanted to better understand why Marin had remained evasive. Every time Sam got close, Marin disappeared, using a combination of her Kaver abilities and stealth, skills that Sam still worked on, to evade her.
It was growing tiresome.
Now, Sam trailed Marin, following the canals as they drifted around the perimeter of the city. They went from section to section, each time passing through increasingly
difficult places. Some of them were awful, the sections rundown and decrepit, though the same could be said about Caster. Others were merchant sections, and Marin breezed in and out without difficulty.
It was near dusk, the light making it difficult to see easily, but Sam had experience traveling at this time of day. As Marin jumped from building to building, her cloak shielded her, making it difficult for Sam to follow.
Marin jumped to a rooftop in the distance.
Sam kept track of her, watching where she went, but stayed on the street level. She didn’t want Marin to know that she was after her, but the woman always seemed to know where Sam was and what she was up to.
What was Marin after out here?
These were sections of the city that were dangerous—the kinds of places Sam would think twice about visiting. She suspected that even Bastan would hesitate to come into some of them. He had control over Caster and had contacts in other places, but there were others like Bastan, and some who were crueler.
Marin disappeared from the rooftop, and Sam hurried after her.
She caught up to where Marin should have been, and there was no sign of her.
Once again, Marin had disappeared into a building.
Which one? Sam was determined to figure it out, determined to know what Marin was chasing so she could learn what it was Marin was up to. Whatever it was kept her busy.
Sam still didn’t know anything about this Davin fellow, though she was determined to learn who he was, especially if Tray was working with him.
The better use of her time would have been to search for easar paper. They needed more than what they had, if they were to continue practicing. Then again, now that Alec had gone to the university, it might be that they didn’t get to practice anymore. Maybe Alec was content with that.
Sam wasn’t. She enjoyed practicing with Alec, though more than just practicing with Alec, she enjoyed the time with Alec. It was nice having a friend. For so long, she had not had that connection with anyone. There had been Tray, but that wasn’t the same.
She fought through the crowd making their way along the street. There was enough activity here that she had to be careful. Whipping out her canal staff was a surefire way of drawing attention, and that attention would attract the palace guards. Sam didn’t want to end up in prison again. Being freed the last time had been luck, she was sure of it, or maybe it had been Marin’s influence. Whatever it was, she wasn’t likely to be that lucky again.
A door opened, and Sam hurried forward, ducking back along the wall of the building. Marin emerged from the door, and then slipped into an alley.
Sam started forward, and as she did, she felt something grab her arm.
She spun.
“Kyza! Bastan, what are you doing?”
“I would ask you the same thing, Samara. What are you doing in this section?”
She glanced back toward where Marin had disappeared. “I’m trying to figure out what Marin is up to.”
“Marin has come here?”
Sam shrugged. “She’s here, somewhere. I don’t know why she keeps making her way around the periphery of the city, but I’m determined to figure out what she’s after, and then I can see what she has Tray doing.”
Bastan frowned. “She’s going around the periphery of the city, is she?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know what it means, so don’t ask.”
“I would not have expected you to know what it means, Samara.”
Sam turned her attention to him. Marin was gone, and any chance of catching up to her was lost. “What are you doing here?”
“I have business dealings in many places, Samara.”
“Even here?” she asked.
Bastan chuckled. “Places like this are where most of my business takes place. It’s less about items and more about the relationships that we can establish.”
“What kinds of relationships are you establishing here?”
Bastan looked around him. “Here? I suppose there are all manner of relationships that could prove important, but in this case, there is an artist I was visiting.”
Sam frowned. “You and your art, Bastan. How much money do you think you’ve spent on artwork over the years?”
Bastan chuckled. “Money? Samara, you know me much better than that. And since I have you here, there is another job that you could do for me.”
“Bastan—”
He shook his head. “This isn’t a difficult job.”
“Is it the same kind of job you had me try the last time? Last time, it was simply a trap of Marin’s.”
His face twisted. “I am well aware of what she did the last time.”
“Then what is it?”
“Consider it an assignment where you can redeem yourself.”
“I didn’t realize that I needed to redeem myself.”
“You haven’t taken many jobs lately.”
“I don’t owe you, not the way that I did.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t still take on assignments. You’re skilled. Your dalliance with that apothecary has gone on long enough, and now it’s time for you to return to your calling.”
“Dalliance?” Sam crossed her arms and took a step toward him. Bastan, as was typical, only smiled. She didn’t intimidate him, even with her canal staff. Sam wasn’t sure that anyone could intimidate Bastan.
“What else would you call it? You have spent considerable time with him, and what has come of it?”
Sam looked away. Bastan wouldn’t understand, not when it came to something like that. “It doesn’t matter,” she said.
“And why wouldn’t it matter?”
“Because he’s gone to study at the university.”
He chuckled. “A physicker? Someone like that would be valuable for us to know.”
She jabbed him in the chest. “You will not use Alec.”
“I decide what needs to be done,” Bastan said. “And right now, I think you need to take a greater role in working with me the way that you promised.”
“I never made a promise.”
“Fine. I need someone with your nimble fingers and your ability to sneak. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“It’s nice to hear once in a while.”
“You know that you’re the best one I have.”
“Best what?”
“Thief. I have others who work for me that have some skill, but there’s just something about the way you get in and back out, without anyone being the wiser to you being there, that is unlike anyone else.” When Sam frowned, Bastan laughed again. “That’s a compliment, Samara.”
“It might be a compliment, but it’s not the kind of compliment a girl likes to receive.”
“No? Then maybe you should ask your dalliance for those kinds of compliments.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Maybe it should be. Maybe if it was, you wouldn’t be so uptight all the time.”
She raised her chin, crossing her arms defiantly. “I’m not uptight.” She looked along the street. She knew she’d lost her chance to follow Marin. “What is the job?”
“Well, you mentioned art, which got me to thinking again.”
“I thought you said you had an artist here that you had hired.”
Bastan looked along the street and then shook his head. “That’s different. I wouldn’t have you attempt to steal from her. The gods know that I wouldn’t even attempt to steal from her.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because she would threaten to destroy me, and knowing her, she would have some way of doing so.”
Sam thought that he was joking, but he didn’t laugh, and made no signs that he was joking. “Then what?”
“Think of it as a test of your abilities.”
“I don’t think I need a test of my abilities.”
“Fine. Then think of it as something that I want, which means you’ll get paid. It’s in the Drash section, and—”
Sam shook her head. “
That section is highborn, Bastan. The last time I went into a highborn house, I was attacked and nearly killed.”
“Blame Marin for that, not me. And this isn’t highborn. The Drash section is merchant, so what I need from you is to find a warehouse along the canal. This would be the Fenrar warehouse, and you can’t miss it. It’s enormous.”
“What do you want me to find in the warehouse?”
“There will be enormous shipping crates inside, but I want you to leave them alone. What I do want you to find is a small box that is marked with this symbol.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Sam.
She unfolded it and saw a series of markings, none of them making a whole lot of sense. “What is it?”
“It’s something that is of little value to the person who’s holding it, but of much value to me.”
“Then why don’t you go after it?”
“I can’t be seen there. If they realized that it was me who broke into the warehouse, there would be consequences.”
“Consequences for who?”
Bastan arched a brow.
“Fine. And when I find this box? What do you want me to do with it?”
“I thought that was obvious. I want you to bring it to me.”
Sam stared at the symbol, but it wasn’t anything she’d ever seen before. That wasn’t surprising. There were plenty of markings throughout the city that made little sense, and with someone like Bastan, connected as he was throughout the city, it was possible that he felt much differently about the items in the box than what anyone else would. Bastan had peculiar tastes, not the least being his love for artwork, and often the artwork that appealed to him was odd, nothing that Sam would think had much value.
“How much is it worth to you?”
“Samara. I thought we were beyond the need to talk about money.”
“Beyond the need? How else am I going to buy my way out of Caster?”
“And why would you ever want to buy your way out of Caster? It is perfectly safe, much safer than some of these sections,” he said, looking around. Sam realized that he had two swords beneath his cloak, something that was unusual even for Bastan. Surprisingly, he didn’t have any guards with them. She would’ve expected him to have somebody trailing, mostly to ensure his safety, but maybe there was more to this artist than what Bastan shared. Maybe it was more about secrecy. Bastan was quite cautious about who he trusted.
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