The Narrowing Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 1)

by David J Normoyle

  Bowe shook his head.

  “I guess you’ll die, then. If you think of anything in time, bring eight golds to Raine Mansion and we’ll give you the cure. If you bring less than that, we’ll swirl the disk.”

  Swirling the disk was commonly done with escay who only had partial payment when the Infernam came around. The disk had black sectors on it to represent the proportion of the payment missing. The disk was spun, and only if it came to rest on a white sector did the escay get a place in the Refuge. The payment was kept either way. The few coppers Bowe had given up so far wouldn’t have been enough to get any white sectors on the disk.

  Sorrin limped back into the room. He ignored the marshals and Jeniano and grabbed Bowe by the arm. “Come on, we’ve no time to waste. We have to get the man his money.”

  Bowe allowed himself to be dragged to the stairs.

  “I hope to see you later, young Bellanger,” Jeniano called out.

  “What are you doing? I told you to leave.” Bowe followed Sorrin as he navigated the stairs, stepping up with his good leg, then swinging his bad leg up after it. “There’s no way I can get that kind of money. Or any kind of money, for that matter.”

  Sorrin didn’t seem to be listening, because when they emerged out on the street, he told Bowe to lead on.

  “Where?”

  “Those ruby garnets. Rumor is that you’re behind their sale. Your partners in that might have the money you need. Where can you find them?”

  “At Drywell Square, possibly,” Bowe said. Iyra could be there. “But there’s no way—”

  “Come on.” Sorrin turned and headed down the street. His half-limping, half-running gait looked ridiculous, but Bowe had to break into a jog to keep up. Bowe pulled his hood over his head and didn’t argue further, as he needed all his breath. He wasn’t sure Iyra would even look at him after their last meeting. Hadn’t he sworn he wouldn’t keep returning to her for rescue? He needed another plan before they reached her. Unfortunately, his mind was blank when it came to drawing eight golds out of thin air. As he ran, sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes. After a while, his breath came in jagged gasps and his heart felt like it was going to gallop out of his chest. He staggered, his legs almost buckling. After that, Sorrin slowed his pace and kept a worried eye on Bowe.

  By the time they arrived at the square, Sorrin was holding Bowe’s arm and guiding him through the crowd. Bowe’s leg muscles felt like water, and it was all he could do to keep himself upright. He staggered with every step. Around him, the market was louder and more chaotic than he’d ever seen it. A hawker who had been selling his wares from a distance was suddenly screaming in Bowe’s face. Bowe tried to push the hawker away, but his hands went straight through the man’s head.

  “Where’s your contact? Where’s your contact? Come on, Bowe,” someone said from far away. A nearby fruit stall became two, then four. Bowe turned away, but they continued to multiply until he was surrounded by them. The fruit stalls began to spin around him, and apples and bananas and grapes shot through the air at him. He covered his face with his arms trying to avoid them and fell to the ground.

  A hand touched his arm. Then Sorrin’s voice: “Concentrate, Bowe. What part of Drywell Square? Who are we looking for?”

  Bowe opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue was too dry to form words. He swallowed and tried again. “Near the north end. An old woman selling carvings.” He wasn’t sure his words were coherent enough to make sense, but Sorrin pulled him up and led him on. Bowe kept his eyes on the ground, watching his feet, trying to avoid looking at the mayhem of the marketplace around him. Still, it was difficult to walk without stumbling when he wasn’t sure which of his multiple feet he wanted to hit the ground first.

  Then he heard a voice—her voice. “What’s going on? What have you done to him?” Bowe looked up, but didn’t see her. Instead, he saw her carvings coming to life. The lion grew in size and its mouth opened, revealing a row of sharp teeth. It pulled back into a crouch. The eagle opened its wooden wings and launched into the air. It extended its claws and dived. Bowe screamed and threw himself away from it. He crashed against the counter and felt it give way. His head thumped against the ground.

  * * *

  A palm slapped Bowe across the face. “Wake up, wake up—I’m not going to let you die on me,” Sorrin said. “Drink this.”

  Bowe felt his head being raised, and water trickled into his mouth. He gulped it down. “Thank you,” he said, “but it’s too late. The poison has already gone too far. I’m already blind.”

  “You’re not blind, you idiot—your eyes are closed.”

  Bowe thought about it for a moment, and then, concentrating on his eyelids, he managed to get them to open. He caught a quick glimpse of Sorrin leaning over him in a darkened room before the world began to spin, and he closed his eyes again. “Where am I?”

  “We dragged you here when you knocked yourself out. The escay girl and I.”

  “Where is she?” Bowe asked.

  “She’s seeing if she can get the money for you. Your cut on the garnet sales isn’t enough to cover your whole loan, but she may be able to persuade her partners to advance enough to save you.”

  Bowe sighed. “No, don’t bother. I don’t want to be saved by her again. How do you even know that Jeniano has a cure? Or that he’ll give it to us if we repay him?”

  “Jeniano is known for using Shade of Helion. If he refused the cure to a paying debtor, no one would repay him again.” Sorrin’s voice seemed to come from far away, as if he were at the other end of a long tunnel.

  “I deserve to die like this. By poison. For what I did.” Bowe was falling farther down the tunnel. “I deserve it.”

  Sorrin gripped Bowe’s shoulder. “Maybe you do deserve to die, but I don’t. And you promised to help me along the Path. You may not have taken that seriously, but I did. There’s no way I’m going to let you die until you’ve fulfilled that promise. Do you hear me?” Sorrin’s voice got farther and farther away until it was swallowed up by time and distance, leaving Bowe alone in the darkness.

  Chapter 13

  23 Days Left

  Bowe’s eyelids rolled open to reveal a blurry world. He tried to rise, but his neck didn’t have the strength to control his head and it flopped back and forth. He closed his eyes again.

  “You’re awake,” said a voice. Bowe opened his eyes again, and this time the world came into focus. He was lying on the floor in Sorrin’s basement room, and Xarcon looked down at him with a concerned expression on his face.

  “You’re Xarcon.” Bowe found that absolutely hilarious and roared with laughter. “We’re at Sorrin’s place, but you’re not him, you’re Xarcon.”

  The furrows deepened on Xarcon’s brow. “I came to see how you are, and Sorrin asked me to stay while he went for some food. Are you okay?”

  Bowe stopped laughing. He thought for a moment and then smiled. “I’m wonderful. Isn’t the world great?”

  Xarcon leaned down and touched Bowe’s forehead. “Still a bit warm. The fever seems to have broken, but you…aren’t fully right.”

  “I’m too hot.” Bowe threw his blanket off. “No, wait—I’m cold.” He shivered and laughed at the same time. “The Infernam is nearly here, and I’m cold.”

  Xarcon replaced the blanket and Bowe snuggled into it until the shivering stopped. “I’m hot.” He tried to throw the blanket off again.

  Xarcon held his arms. “Why don’t you hold on to that in case you get cold again?”

  Bowe’s mind felt foggy, but that made sense, so he stopped struggling. He found it difficult to form thoughts, but he was so happy that it didn’t matter. He gripped Xarcon’s wrist. “Sit down. Talk with me.”

  Xarcon sat on his heels, carefully removing Bowe’s hand from his wrist. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Bowe smiled widely. “I’m happy. Isn’t life wonderful?”

  “That’s what you want to talk about? The poison and antidote combinat
ion was strong stuff.”

  Bowe put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t let people know, or everyone will want it.” He giggled. “Everyone will want to be poisoned.”

  Xarcon shook his head. “To answer your question: no, life isn’t wonderful. Especially not if you are an escay.”

  Bowe’s joy lessened. Fragments of thought surfaced out of the fog. “The escay have a hard life. But I’m helping them, I think. I’m working with the Guild.”

  Xarcon leaped up and looked around. “What are you saying? You know it could mean both our deaths if a marshal heard you talking about that. Even in your state.”

  “The Guild isn’t so bad. Or maybe it is, but I hope not. I think the Guardians don’t like it so they make us think it’s evil.”

  “Shut up.” Xarcon stared at Bowe in horror. “Stop talking. Think about something else. Flowers. How wonderful life is. Anything.”

  Bowe giggled. “Flowers. Flowers are pretty.” Sorrin entered and Bowe giggled harder. “I know you. You walk funny.”

  Sorrin rushed over to him. “You’re awake.” He touched Bowe’s forehead. “And the fever’s broken.”

  “His mind may also be broken,” Xarcon said. “You don’t want to hear what he’s saying.”

  Sorrin turned to Xarcon. “I’m just happy he’s woken up. He was in an awful state these last two days. Hopefully his mind will clear when he recovers further.”

  Xarcon’s mouth twisted. “It’s worse than just mindless babbling. We can’t let anyone hear him. He can’t control what he’s saying. If we’re lucky, he’s gone crazy, but I fear it’s much worse than that—I fear he’s telling the truth.”

  Sorrin rubbed his chin. “He’s in a fevered state that makes him tell the truth?” He leaned down. “Bowe, what’s your biggest secret?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Xarcon shouted at the same moment that Bowe said, “I killed my mother.”

  Sorrin straightened. “He killed his mother. That’s excellent.”

  “How’s that good? What’s wrong with you?” Xarcon asked.

  Sorrin was already limping out the door. “The last time, you didn’t believe him. Neither did Edison or Thrace. I’m going to bring them back and we’ll find out for sure if we can trust him. Was he trying to play us, or did he truly mean what he said?” Sorrin clumped up the stairs.

  Xarcon ran after him. “Wait. You don’t know what you are doing.”

  “Keep an eye on him until I’m back.” And Sorrin was gone.

  Xarcon returned to Bowe’s side and squatted down beside him.

  Bowe grinned up at him.

  “Are you feeling more like yourself?” Xarcon asked. “You better recover before Sorrin gets back. You just can’t talk about certain things.”

  Bowe’s grin faded. “You mean the Guild?”

  “Stop talking about that.” Xarcon rubbed his hand through his hair. “Come on, you can’t go around spouting stuff about the Guild. I don’t care how fevered you are.”

  “You must like the escay, since you live and work with them now.”

  “I didn’t become a performer because I liked the escay.” Xarcon sighed. “Maybe if I talk, I can stop you from telling too many truths. I knew years ago that I couldn’t survive the Path. There are others who are stronger, smarter, and more ruthless than I. They’ll be the ones selected and chosen. So I decided to spend the time I had left doing what I most enjoy. And I’ve always loved watching the street performers. So when the Path started, I went to them. When I asked, they took me in, taught me, and took care of me. I already have more friends among the escay than I ever had in the serpent’s lair known as the harem. But that doesn’t mean I want anything to do with the Gu…that organization.”

  “I liked the escay I met, too,” Bowe said. “I didn’t expect to. The priest, the newsbard, and a girl. An old woman protected me from the marshals and gave me her only cloak. For no reason. And I don’t even know where she lives so I can go back and thank her.”

  “Just because escay are nice is no reason to speak well of the—you know. That organization is dedicated to destroying the ascor way of life. Our way of life. Just a mention of it in the wrong company will have you sent to the Fortress, never to return.” Xarcon stood up. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about this with you. Shhh.” The sound of footsteps came from the stairwell. “No more talking about it.” Xarcon looked down at Bowe’s expression and groaned. “Seems to be no reasoning with you right now. I’ll just have to hope the conversation stays on safer matters such as matricide.”

  Remembering Chalori, sadness spread through Bowe’s mind like tendrils of darkness in a fog. Then Sindar walked in, and Bowe felt joyous again. He beamed at the other boy. “Specter of the rooftops. Thief of hearts, and other stuff that doesn’t belong to you,” Bowe said.

  Sindar bowed. “At your service.”

  “Who are you?” Xarcon asked Sindar.

  “I’m Sindar. I was supposed to meet Bowe here at the meeting a few days ago but when I checked out the place, the marshals were watching. Sorrin met me just now and told me to come here, that I wouldn’t regret it, then limped off faster than I could run. What in Helion’s name is going on?”

  “I can see rainbows.” Bowe grasped at the air in front of his face. The bright colors dazzled him, but each time he grabbed at a rainbow, it disappeared. “But I can’t catch them.”

  “I can see that.” Sindar edged away from Bowe, as if he had something that was catching. Bowe knew the thief couldn’t see what he did. None of them could. He wanted to share his joy with the others, but they couldn’t understand.

  “Bowe was poisoned, then given the cure as he was dying. He was really sick for the last three days, badly fevered, and now he’s in a weird state of flowers and rainbows.” Xarcon glanced at Bowe and then back at Sindar. “Because none of us trusted Bowe earlier, Sorrin thinks we should question him now, since he always tells the truth in this state.”

  “How do we know that?”

  “That’s just what Sorrin thinks. Me, I think he’s just coming up with all kinds of craziness. Look, he’s trying to catch rainbows again.”

  “I guess we should ask him a question that he’d never normally tell the truth about.”

  Xarcon’s voice had a nervous edge. “No, that’s not a good idea.”

  Sindar was already crouching down in front of Bowe. “You know that escay girl you were with the last time we met? Are you in love with her?”

  Images of Iyra flashed though Bowe’s brain. Pulling him into the boat. Holding his shaking hand and helping him turn the key. The warmth of her as he held her and kissed her. “I think I am. I don’t even know her that well. And I know she is an escay and could never be for me, but—” He curled his fingers into a fist and placed it on his abdomen. “—deep down, I know I love her.”

  “That’s your bellybutton, not your heart.”

  “Oh.” Bowe raised his fist and placed it on his chest, but it slid back down. “Deep down…”

  Sindar smirked. “Still your stomach.” He grabbed Bowe’s wrist and placed Bowe’s fist against his breastbone. “Deep down there in your heart—I get it.”

  “Don’t you feel the wrongness?” Xarcon asked. “For an ascor to lie with an escay is bad enough, but to actually fall in love with one…”

  Bowe tried to understand the feelings that Xarcon’s words induced, but he couldn’t make sense of them. “All that isn’t important right now. All that matters is that I love her.” He beamed up at Sindar and Xarcon. “I should tell her.” He tried to get up, but dizziness and weakness washed through him and he fell back down.

  Xarcon shook his head. “He’s fallen in love with an escay. Is there anything that boy hasn’t done?”

  “Sounds like Sorrin is back. No one else could limp down that stairs at that speed without falling.” Sindar pushed himself to his feet. “And what do you mean? What else has Bowe admitted to doing?”

  Xarcon cleared his throat. “He said he kil
led his mother.”

  Sorrin entered, followed by Edison and Thrace. The room became overcrowded once more, and Sindar was almost pushed out the back.

  “This scene is familiar.” Edison looked down at Bowe. “Though, our would-be glorious leader is rather the worse for wear.”

  Bowe was happy that all these people had come to visit, but found it hard to summon the strength to smile. Everything blurred and darkened, then disappeared.

  “He’s falling asleep,” said a panicked voice from far away, and then a slap on his cheek gave him a jerk, and everyone reappeared. Sorrin was at his side. “Ask your questions,” he demanded of Edison. “If we let him sleep, the effect may be gone by the time he wakes up.”

  “It had better,” Xarcon said.

  “Okay.” Edison scratched his head. “I’m still not buying into your story that he can’t lie, but there’s no harm in asking a few questions.”

  Xarcon made a noise deep in his throat. Edison glanced at him, then turned his attention back to Bowe. “What’s your honest opinion of this noble journey to prove ourselves worthy—the Green Path?”

  A deep weariness pinned Bowe to the floor. He focused on Edison and tried to think about the Green Path. The images hit him much harder than Sorrin’s slap on his cheek. Vitarr’s inert body being pummeled by Dulnato, then his serene expression on the funeral barge; Jisri falling into the sea with a knife in his eye socket; Cetu being sliced to pieces by the Eye fighter while his screams cut the air. “The Green Path is a monstrous thing.” He threw the weariness from himself like a cloak and pushed himself up to a sitting position, looking at each of the Deadbeats in turn. “It is an evil beyond describing. To make young men walk is a terrible crime against the natural order. And the ascor who make us do it are perpetuating that evil.” Then Bowe started giggling. “‘Perpetuate’ is a funny word.”

  “See, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Xarcon said. “It is not truth he speaks, but madness.”