A tall, gaunt man in blood-red armor plowed through the crowded paths below them. Those not fast enough to move out of his way were knocked aside without a second glance.
“Friend of yours?” Bobby asked.
Sephi’s lip curled in disgust. “That’s Magnus. He works for the Council.”
“He can’t find you here,” Bobby said. “I don’t need that kind of attention. Come on.”
He led her through the office to a back wall. His fingers touched the wall in three places, and a hidden door appeared in the solid wood.
Sephi raised an eyebrow at him. “An enchanted door? That must have cost you a fortune.”
“A fortune is worthless if you’re not alive to spend it,” he said. “Now get the hell out of here. And think about the job.”
Sephi slipped through the hidden door, went down a narrow staircase, and emerged anonymously in a dim alleyway, safely away from the man in red. For the moment anyway.
If Magnus was after her, he wouldn’t give up until he found her.
Chapter 3
The following evening, Sephi sat cross-legged on Echo’s bed while the young Green mage stitched silver thread into Sephi’s battered leather coat. A swift wind rattled the walls of Echo’s shack, but the carved runes in the wood kept the inside comfortable and cozy. Sephi was finishing telling her about Bobby’s job offer.
As she spoke, Persephone stared down at a carved wooden figurine in her hands. The little magpie with the scorched wings was a remnant of a better past, and its body was smooth and polished from all the times she’d held it just like that, when she’d been facing a difficult decision.
“So, what do you think?” Sephi asked.
Echo shook her head. “It sounds like horse shit.”
“I know the whole thing is crazy,” Sephi said, turning the bird over in her hands. “But what if it’s not?”
Echo didn’t look up from her needlework. “What if two and two make five? What if your skull is full of spiders? What if the sky is made of blueberry jam?”
“What is this?” Sephi asked. “What are you doing right now?”
Echo shot her a challenging look. “I thought we were asking each other ridiculous questions.”
“Hey, it’s a legitimate question. If someone hired Bobby to find the Whispers, then that person believes they’re real.”
Echo laughed humorlessly. “They can believe whatever they want. Hell, the other day, I saw a guy in the bazaar buy a flying potion. He believed it was real, but that doesn’t mean he’ll sprout wings if he jumps off the Citadel.”
Sephi sighed. “All right, I get it. You don’t think they exist. I didn’t think they did either, but why the hell would someone pay upfront for them to be found?”
“I don’t know.” Echo shrugged. “Look, they might be real, but who cares? No one knows where they are, and no one knows what they look like. Anyone who knew anything about the Whispers has been dead for thousands of years.”
Sephi slid forward to the edge of the bed. “Come on. You used to read a lot before you moved down here.”
“I still read a lot,” Echo interjected.
“Right, but I mean in the Council Library, before you moved down here. You never came across anything about the Whispers?”
Echo’s hand paused, and she looked up like she was trying to remember. “I’ve read stories. Folklore. Nothing concrete. According to legend, the Whispers got their name because the information they contain should never be spoken about above a whisper. The magic is so dark, so fundamentally wrong, no one can be trusted with it.”
Sephi frowned. “Do you really believe that?”
“Assuming for the sake of argument that they exist, I believe that whatever information the Whispers contain should remain buried and lost to time. I believe that any person or group who wants to get their hands on them shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near them. I also believe you know all this, and you’re just hoping for my permission to indulge in this reckless fantasy.”
“The offer is too good to be true,” Sephi said.
Echo nodded. “Exactly.”
“This could be my last job for Bobby, though. And then I can move on with my life, just like you told me to.”
The younger mage snorted and returned to her sewing. “Don’t put this on me. My advice was to start looking toward your future, not to go on a suicide mission searching for something that can’t be found. For all we know, this could all be lies, and Bobby is just looking for a way to get rid of you.”
“He’s not like that,” Sephi said. She had never lied to Echo about her business with Bobby, but she’d never told Echo the truth, either. Echo just assumed that Sephi owed him a straight-up debt, and Sephi had never corrected her.
As a result, Echo thought poorly of the man. Sephi knew better. Bobby was a smuggler and a criminal, but he had a kind of honor to him. He was always fair in his dealings. He might stab you in the front, but never in the back, which was better than most people Sephi had met.
So, Sephi knew Bobby believed his job offer to be legit. The question remained if his belief was justified.
“None of this matters,” Echo said, breaking Sephi from her train of thought. “This whole discussion is academic.”
“What do you mean?” Sephi asked.
“I mean that you can’t take the job, even if you wanted to. You have nowhere to start. Literally nowhere. You could spend the rest of your life asking around, doing research, and poking your head into places you shouldn’t, but you’re not going to find anything. No one ever has.” She huffed. “You’ll waste your life more than you already are.”
Sephi ignored the last part but offered a frown. “People have looked before?”
“Of course,” Echo said. “Smarter people than you.”
“Thanks a lot,” Sephi said, grinning.
Echo lifted up the brown leather jacket and examined her handiwork in the inner lining. “All done.”
“So those sigils will make me invincible?” Sephi asked.
Echo rolled her eyes. “This will absolutely not make you invincible. For like the millionth time, it’s just an added bit of protection.”
“But I’m immune to magic now, right?” Sephi asked.
Echo growled in frustration. “No, you jackass.”
Sephi frowned at the coat. “Well, forgive me if I sound underwhelmed, but what will the enchantments do?”
“They’ll do nothing if you keep talking shit, because I’ll rip them out with my bare teeth.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Sephi said, raising her palms in surrender. “I’m not a Green. Enchanting isn’t my specialty. Remind me what you did.”
“Well, first I spent a month infusing this thread with silver and magic. Regular thread would’ve done nothing. Every rune, every sigil, every glyph needs to be infused with magic or it won’t have any effect.” Echo opened the coat and pointed at the spidery shapes lining the jacket. “Now, I’ve sewn in protective wards. Your leather jacket will repel physical attacks as efficiently as plate mail, and it will reduce the effectiveness of simple spells against you.”
Sephi nodded. “I suppose that’s pretty good, too.”
“You suppose?” Echo asked, her eyes narrowing with building outrage.
“No, I mean, thank you for doing this,” Sephi said. “Seriously, no more joking around. I really do appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome,” Echo said and let out a long sigh. “I’m just trying to keep you in one piece. Someone has to worry about your well-being, since you refuse to do it.”
Sephi shoved Echo playfully. “Hey, I worry too. I’m, like, half-sure I’m not taking Bobby’s job offer.”
“You should be all sure,” Echo said. “What do you think the Council will do if they find out you’re looking for the Zekarian Whispers? You think they’ll just ignore it? Even if there’s zero chance of success?”
Sephi shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”
“Wel
l, you should,” Echo said. “If Magnus is looking for you, it means the Council is looking for you.”
“Sure, but I doubt it’s for anything serious. I haven’t broken any rules lately.” She shrugged nonchalantly and continued to check out the jacket.
“Like sneaking into the forbidden land of Tartarus to steal stormbird eggs?” Echo asked.
“Okay,” Sephi said. “So, I’ve broken a few rules lately.”
Echo rolled her eyes. “You’re already on their shit list. Do you really want to bring more heat down on you?”
“No, I suppose not,” Sephi said, her shoulders slumping.
“The best thing you can do is keep your head down and stay out of sight,” Echo said. “Magnus is still out there somewhere. Let’s just hope he doesn’t find you here.”
A series of knocks shook Echo’s front door. Sephi’s eyes darted toward the sound. She quickly stowed the little magpie in her pocket, and she called to mind several possible spells. Echo shot her a questioning look, and Sephi nodded, ready for a fight.
“Come in!” Echo called.
The door creaked open, and a tiny, wisp of a child peeked her head in. Her hair was as pale as corn silk, and her blue eyes glittered with mischief.
The tension drained from Sephi’s shoulders, but she hopped off the bed and planted her fists on her hips. “Arabella Zara, what have I told you about knocking?”
Arabella clutched her ratty skirts and looked down at her shuffling feet. “Not to do it.”
Sephi nodded. “That’s right, young lady. Don’t knock. Just yell out to announce yourself. Otherwise, how will people know who is at their door?”
Echo frowned. “I don’t think that’s correct.”
Sephi ignored the comment and addressed Arabella. “Eyes up, young one. I’m not mad at you.”
The little girl raised her chin and met Sephi’s gaze. “Sorry, Miss Persephone.”
“No need to apologize to me,” Sephi said. “You’re a good girl. You just need a little guidance.”
Arabella nodded contritely and fastened her wide, doe-eyed gaze on Sephi. “I know, miss. It’s just, I’ve had no guidance to speak of. I never knew my parents. They abandoned me in the gutter the day I was born. I had to suckle at the teat of a stray dog to survive. I sold my baby teeth for my first pair of shoes.”
Sephi groaned and rolled her eyes. “No wonder no one wants to adopt you.”
“Persephone!” Echo chided, her mouth agape with horror.
Sephi shrugged. “What? Her sales pitch needs work.”
The pathetic look vanished from Arabella’s face, and the young girl grinned, showing a row of teeth that looked too big for her face. “Was it too much or not enough?”
“Way too much,” Sephi said, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “There’s no way you could remember any of that if you were just a baby. Anyone dumb enough to believe that, you don’t want as parents. We’ll polish up your back story and find you a decent family one of these days.”
“You could always adopt me,” Arabella said, looking up at her.
Sephi snorted a laugh. “I said a decent family. There’s nothing decent about me, little one.”
Arabella looked thoughtful. “That’s true.”
Sephi shot her a look of mock displeasure. “Did you come here for a reason?”
The little girl nodded. “It’s Wednesday.”
“Shit, you’re right,” Sephi said. She glanced at Echo, looking for her reaction.
Echo’s expression darkened. She cast Sephi’s jacket aside onto the bed so she could wag a scolding finger at her. “Absolutely not.”
“But it’s Wednesday,” Sephi said pleadingly.
Echo growled in frustration. “I don’t give a shit what day it is. We just talked about you staying out of sight. Now you want to do the exact opposite and draw attention to yourself?”
Sephi sighed dramatically and looked at Arabella. “Sorry, kid. Echo says no.”
Echo huffed. “Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?”
“It seems so,” Sephi said.
Arabella nodded, looking crestfallen. “It’s okay, Miss Echo. Sure, me and the other orphans look forward to this all week. A bright speck of sunshine in our otherwise dreary lives. For most of us, it’s the only thing that keeps us from giving up on living altogether. But it’s fine. Go ahead and take it from us.”
Echo rolled her eyes. “Good lord.”
“Say no more,” Arabella continued, making her lower lip quiver. “We’re used to disappointment. Us orphans, I mean. I grew up in muddy alleys, fighting rats for scraps of moldy bread and often losing. Their taunting squeaks still haunt me.”
Arabella managed to squeeze out a tear while staring at Echo.
“Oh, come on,” Echo said. “I know what you’re doing. So why the hell do I feel so guilty?”
Sephi knelt beside the little girl and squeezed her grubby cheeks. “Because you’d have to be a monster to say no to this adorable little face.”
Sephi and Arabella looked at Echo and smiled hopefully, wearing matching expressions.
Echo exhaled heavily. “Fine. Whatever. Go.”
Arabella and Sephi cheered, looking almost the same age in that moment.
“But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Echo said.
The theater didn’t have a sign. It didn’t even have a name, really. The disinherited children of the Undershadow unofficially called it the Foundling Theater, and they closely guarded the secret of its existence. They had almost nothing in this world, but they had this.
Arabella tugged Sephi’s hand as they walked down the rickety wooden stairs, almost pulling her along in her eagerness. Echo followed behind them.
“What story will you show us today?” the little girl asked.
Sephi shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“What about one of your adventures?” Arabella looked up at her hopefully. “You never show us those.”
Sephi smiled and shook her head. “Maybe someday when I have a story worth telling. Something I’m proud of. I’ll have something better for you kids tonight. Don’t you worry.”
They descended into the theater, hidden in the basement of a burned-out building on the outskirts of town. The theater could hold fifty kids comfortably. The kids themselves had cobbled together several rows of benches, using discarded boards and rusty nails. They’d even constructed a stage of sorts at the front of the space. Although if anyone bothered to stand on it, the whole thing would collapse into splinters and dust.
Luckily, the only performers here weighed nothing at all.
The benches were packed with children, ranging in age from six to twelve. Kids younger than six could stay in the White Brothers’ Orphanage with no strings attached. Once they passed that age, the kids were given the unfair choice to join the White Brothers or be cast out into the streets.
For all their talk of helping people, the White Brothers’ mercy only extended so far. Most kids joined them. The rest of the kids—these kids—were on their own until they found someone to take them in or got old enough to find work.
Arabella walked in front of the two mages triumphantly. After all, she had convinced them to come. At nine years old, she was something of an elder to the collection of street kids. She helped make sure they got fed, they had a place to sleep, and they avoided the more dangerous characters both above and below the Citadel. A series of claps and cheers spread through the room at the sight of her with her prize in tow.
She nodded at the other children with the grace of a young queen, modestly accepting their praise. Sephi watched it all with a barely suppressed smile.
Shortly after she’d abandoned the Citadel to live on the ground, Sephi had discovered the parentless children and their mysterious society. Although older than most of them by several years, she had felt a certain kinship with them, having just lost her own parents. She’d become fascinated by their little subculture with its own rules and traditions.
These performances started as a way to entertain some of the kids while Sephi improved her magical abilities. Magic power was like a muscle. It had to be used to get stronger. She figured, why not have some fun while training? The bit of fun evolved into a weekly tradition.
The children fell silent when Sephi sat in her chair beside the stage. Echo sat on one of the benches, looking almost small enough to blend in with the other children. The sight of her friend reminded Sephi of how they’d met for the first time, right here in this room.
The Green mage had heard tales of the Blue storyteller, and she’d come to see for herself. Echo was too busy trying to fix up the Undershadow with enchantments to get involved with the orphans like Sephi did, but the kids allowed her into the theater anyway. The two ex-Citadel mages got to talking afterward and became fast friends.
Sephi thrust those memories aside and brought stillness to her mind. On the way over, she’d decided to retell the tale of the Cyclops and the Serpent. A silly story about an amorous one-eyed giant who fell in love with a terrifying sea monster. But as she attempted to pull up the first image in her mind, an entirely different one appeared in her head.
She thought of Zekariah, the First Mage, the man who supposedly created the Zekarian Whispers. Bobby’s job offer was still on her mind, apparently. No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to suppress those intrusive thoughts.
She couldn’t picture the lumbering Cyclops with his club in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. There was no conjuring up the enormous sea snake with fluttering lashes and long blonde hair. She couldn’t envision the house they built together, half on land and half in the sea.
All she could see was the First Mage putting quill to parchment, recording unholy rituals in a ghastly tome. Using elf blood for ink and fae skin for paper.
She took a deep breath and decided to stop fighting it. She would tell the story of the rise and fall of the First Mage. Her hands formed shapes, she spoke the words, and a ghostly image materialized above the stage.
Chapter 4
The Lost Tower Page 3