by Gwynn White
Reluctantly, I nodded and went to knock on the door—three hard raps with my knuckles—and then returned to stand by Bruha, who snuffled at my presence.
The red door swung open, and a thin man with opulent jewels on his fingers greeted Mabaya warmly. “Baya, blessings upon you,” he said. “I trust your travels went well?”
“Not entirely uneventful,” Mabaya murmured, and I gave her credit for being able to speak while holding the heavy urn. Arwin looked like she was struggling to breathe beneath the weight. “Shall I tell you more about it inside?”
“Yes, of course, of course, do come in.” He stepped aside to let Mabaya and Arwin through—he gave Arwin a cursory glance with his attentive eyes—and then he turned his stare on me. I raised a hand and gave a slight smile, nervous worms gnawing away at my intestines. The man closed the door.
“Great,” I muttered aloud, but if Bruha shared my displeasure, he was keeping stoic about it. He sniffed at the ground and pawed a few times, his hoof scraping irritably against the inlaid brick. “Stop that,” I told him.
He stopped, but more likely because he was done than because he was listening to me.
I looked back down the way we’d come through the alley. Small, colorful flags hung from strings that hung overhead, spanning the narrow gap between buildings. They had little symbols on them—an almond-shaped eye inside a tall, hollow diamond of gold.
I raised my good arm and rested my hand against the side of the last remaining jug. The clay felt rough and bumpy beneath my touch, and the oil inside lay still, its aroma just barely seeping through the cork that stoppered the opening at the top of the jug.
“Hey, kid, whatcha got there?”
I tried not to let my nerves show as I spun in the direction of the new voice. At the end of the alley stood a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, with a grizzled beard and a long brown duster that draped over his shoulders and fell past his knees. He had an untrustworthy look in his gaze, and his eyes kept darting between me and the jug of lily oil.
I retracted my hand from the jug and decided to play dumb. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What are you, thick? I’m askin’ what’s in the jar, meathead.” The rough-looking stranger took another step forward as two more shadows fell across the ground behind him. Another pair of men—older boys, really, judging by the peach fuzz on their jaws—flanked him on both sides, completely blocking up the entrance to the alley.
“Nothing that’s yours,” I told them. I circled around the cart to take quick steps down the stairs toward the red door, but before I could even reach the stairway, Browncoat took another large step. I suddenly realized how precarious the situation was; there was no way I could knock on the door and get Mabaya and Arwin to respond right away, not before Browncoat got to me or the jug, at which point it would be all over. I couldn’t defend myself with just one arm.
I could steer a cart, though.
The thought flashed through my head quicker than lightning, but it stuck harder than paste. I retreated from the stairs and flung myself to the cart, clawing at its wooden sides as I pulled myself into the front carriage where Mabaya had sat less than a quarter hour ago. I gripped the reins in my hand and flicked them sharply, smacking the leather against the solid, dry back of the gaur. “Go, Bruha!”
The gaur stamped its hoof and shook its head from side to side, but I whipped the reins again and the lumbering beast bucked into action. “Hyah!”
It was then that I remembered I’d never even ridden a horse, much less steered a gaur-pulled cart.
The whole thing lurched as if the world were being pulled out from under me, and the yellow bricks of the walls became a blur as we shot off down the alley, away from Browncoat and his two goons. Bruha didn’t seem concerned with the turn coming up ahead, and I clenched my eyes shut as the wall on the opposite end of the bend rapidly approached. My stomach heaved up to one side as Bruha turned sharply, and the cart threatened to tip over and spill me and the remaining jug onto the paved brick ground. At the last second, the cart righted itself, falling back down heavily on its left side as we careened down another alley and then out into the street.
“Hey!”
“Drangr, watch it!”
Cries of protest rose into the air as Bruha dragged us down a crowded thoroughfare, both sides of the street lined with vendors’ stalls. More colorful flags filled the air, draped across and down the street like the long links of sausage Answorth used to hang from the rafters of our home in Pointe.
His home, I thought bitterly. It was never mine, not really.
My dark thoughts dissipated as Bruha trampled his way straight through a stacked pile of hay three bushels tall, and I sputtered and coughed as scratchy yellow strands caught in my eyes, nose, and throat. I was sure there were more bits of hay in my hair, but I couldn’t concern myself with them now. “Move out of the way,” I shouted to a few of the townspeople—citypeople?—who stood by, gawking, as the cart bore down on them. I waved my arms frantically, and as if they’d been struck by lightning, they suddenly bolted out of the way. Mabaya’s cart practically dug furrows in the paved road, the wheels were spinning so fast.
“Bruha, I need you to slow down!” I yelled, but the gaur paid me no heed. I wanted to beat my fists against the animal’s back in frustration, but I knew it would hurt me more than it would hurt him. Instead, I held the reins in one hand and leaped forward over the small barrier at the front of the cart’s cabin, landing directly on Bruha’s broad back.
The beast snorted again and tossed his head, but his stride didn’t slow.
“Bruha, stop!” I yanked the reins back hard, the metal bit in his mouth pulled back as far as it would go.
Metal, I realized.
It was a desperate stretch, I knew, but Arwin and I had already seen me tame metal back in Mitbas. The hard, cold steel had yielded to my touch as if I’d bent it with the strength of ten men. I didn’t know if I could do it without touching the metal in question, though, and there was no way I was going to bend myself in half and jam my hand deep inside the mouth of a furious, charging animal.
I tried to envision how it had felt the first time—a cool sensation at the base of my spine, and then a slight queasiness in my stomach…or was that just how I was feeling now from being jostled by Bruha’s stampede? No, it had definitely been there before. My intestines churned ever so slightly, and I felt a tickle run along my back, and then—
Bruha’s eyes went wide, and steam rose from either side of his mouth.
Depths take me, what is that?
I pulled back my hand, willing whatever I was doing to just stop. The world around me came back into focus as Bruha slowed his gait to a crawl, and then a full stop.
The smoke stopped pouring from the animal’s mouth, and I waited for Bruha to start charging again, but his hooves remained firmly planted, knees locked into position. With a slight tilt of the head, Bruha regarded me with one of his wide, bovine eyes. There was anger in that stare, and pain, too. But also something akin to relief.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I told him, stroking his back and neck. “I don’t even know what I did.”
Bruha snorted, and I noticed then that there were angry red welts around the corner of his mouth where the bit rested against the skin. The area was clearly irritated, and it took me a second to realize what it was. I’d burned him.
With the metal? I wondered. I didn’t see how that was possible, but there was no other explanation.
I dismounted from his back and stroked his face a few more times to let him know how sorry I was. “Oh, Mabaya is going to kill me,” I muttered.
The sounds around us had changed over the past few frantic minutes, and it was quieter in the area where we stood now. Miraculously, the jug of oil remained unscathed, and there didn’t seem to be any lowlifes nearby looking to take it forcefully off our hands.
The yellow brickwork of the southern edge of the city had given way to buildings of
red brick and, in the case of what I saw before me now, thick concrete blocks. They were stacked one on top of the other with no obvious mortar in sight, yet the structure they formed looked as solid, or even more so, than any other building I’d ever seen. It narrowed as it went up, the final stacks of blocks reaching almost perfectly straight up to the sky far above.
A pair of sturdy wooden doors marked the entrance to the ziggurat, and a harried-looking man in flowing robes suddenly pushed his way through one door and squinted as sunlight fell into his eyes.
“Harried-looking, my ass,” the man growled, and his eyes accosted me as if my mere presence were an affront.
“I’m sorry?”
“I heard you,” the robed man continued. He tapped his head. “In here. But whatever. I’m done with this place.” His footsteps echoed in the open courtyard as he stalked away from the ziggurat, and I just watched in stunned silence as he disappeared down another street.
The doors to the ziggurat burst open again and another man’s face appeared, this one looking annoyed and flustered. His searching gaze landed on me and Bruha. “No loitering in the Lord’s court,” he said before slamming the door shut.
“Well that was weird,” I said, stroking the ridge between Bruha’s eyes.
He grunted in agreement and nudged me gently with his horn.
“Aww, he likes you.”
I whirled around to see Mabaya standing there at the head of the street, Arwin’s slight figure beside her, both silhouetted by the rising sun to the east. “I didn’t steal your cart,” I said immediately.
“I didn’t think you did.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Why’d you disappear, though?” Arwin asked. She was sporting a new bracelet on her wrist that looked expensive.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, pointing.
“It was a gift from Nico.”
“Who?”
“Children, focus,” Mabaya interrupted. “We have to get this cart back up to Nico, then you can play with your bangles and pray,” she said, gesturing to Arwin and me, respectively.
“Pray?” I turned my eyes back toward the ziggurat, whose solid oak doors remained unmoved since the outburst of the robed men. “Oh. Is this—?”
“A temple to the Lord of Clouds, yes.” Mabaya wrapped her fingers around my elbow and pulled me away. “It’s not a place for children.”
“Hey!” Arwin protested. “We’ve been through more in the past few days than most kids will go through their entire lives!”
“And we’re not kids,” I added. The stubbly skin of my chin was testament enough to that.
“Sure you aren’t. Come, Nico is waiting for the final jug, and then we can see about stocking supplies for our trip to Cleighton.”
I nodded. “Right. All aboard, Arwin.”
Mabaya took the reins from me and was just about to haul herself up into the driver’s seat when she noticed the angry blisters around Bruha’s mouth. “And what happened here?” she asked slowly, turning to glare at me.
“He, uhh…”
Her beady eyes darted between me and Arwin. “You’re not just running from Mitbas for being thieves, are you?”
“I’m just a thief,” Arwin argued. She pointed at me. “This one, however—”
“Arwin!”
“—is a nervous little firebug. He lights things when things get stressful.” Arwin looked to the ground and scuffed her worn, threadbare shoe against the stone paving. “It must’ve gotten out of control when Bruha ran away, and the stress just got to him.”
Mabaya raised an eyebrow at her and then turned to look at me again. “Is this true?”
I stared at Arwin in shock, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. I couldn’t believe she’d just told a bald-faced lie to save my skin, and to Mabaya of all people.
“Y-yes, it’s true,” I said, playing along with Arwin’s ruse. “There were some men who wanted to take the oil. Bruha got us away from them, but…it was too much for my nerves, I guess. I lit a fire to calm myself, and Bruha nudged my arm and got himself burned in the process.”
Mabaya soaked in my words for a long moment and then nodded curtly. “So be it. Just bear in mind that my cart is made of wood, and Bruha is made of flesh. If you light another fire just because you’re feeling pressured, I’m leaving you on the side of the road. Understood? We don’t need that kind of trouble here.”
I nodded quickly and slapped my hands to my sides. “Understood.”
“Good. Come, now, Nico is waiting, and we’d best not disappoint.”
We all loaded back into the cart, and Mabaya guided Bruha back up the cobbled streets until we reached the more populated areas in the center of town. Vendors dressed in leathers and hides shouted their prices and wares to us as we passed, and I saw a few more robed devotees to the Lord of Clouds walk by on foot.
“Why are there so many of the Lord’s followers here?” Arwin asked.
Mabaya flicked her reins and then turned to look back at her. There was a deep scowl etched onto her face. “Don’t you know anything?” She pointed a knobby-jointed finger back the way we’d come. “That temple back there is the greatest in all of the Qati Empire, drawing the faithful to its doors from every village within a hundred leagues.” She spat a globule of phlegm to the ground. “Do yourselves a favor and steer well clear of the Lord’s madhouses. Those men are nothing but fear mongers.”
I gaped at her in shock. “The Lord delivers victories in battle to the empire. Our enemies should fear him and his might.” I couldn’t understand why Mabaya thought worshipping him was a bad thing; even though I wasn’t a strict adherent to the laws of the Lord in giving sacrifices and devoting at least a quarter of my day to quiet contemplation, I helped the poor when possible—despite being among those ranks myself—and gave reverence to the robed men who represented the Lord of Clouds’ interests here on the ground.
“And the Dark Queen rules the Depths, drowning the souls of those who stray from the Lord’s tenets,” Mabaya said. “I know the faith.”
“If you knew it so well, you’d know not to question it,” Arwin said.
I glanced her way with eyebrows raised. I hadn’t taken her for the faithful type; I’d thought a long life of thievery and living as an outcast would’ve made her heart hard to the Lord’s promises. But I guess it shouldn’t be so surprising, I realized. After all, I’m much the same as her. Alone for years, scorned by the people of Pointe for something I couldn’t help. Arwin was my female counterpart.
“Bah, you’re clueless, the both of you,” Mabaya said, swatting a hand and returning her focus to driving the cart.
We reached Nico’s alley again and Arwin knocked sharply on his door. The man appeared a moment later with a quick smile on his face at the sight of her, and he motioned for her and Mabaya to carry in the last jug of oil.
“Hold on,” I said. “I’ll help with this one. You aren’t leaving me out here again for some thugs to kill me.”
Mabaya glanced at my wounded shoulder. “Have it your way, kid,” she said.
I wrapped my one good arm around the side of the jug and waited for Arwin to grab it from the other side. We hoisted it up together, and I struggled to keep my side raised as we edged our way through Nico’s doorway and into the small room that lay beyond. A healthy fire burned in the stone hearth on one side of the room, its flames giving the room a warm orange light.
“Just place it over there,” Nico said, pointing to a corner far from the hearth. The other jugs were already settled there.
We dropped the jug into the indicated corner and I arched my back, stretching my spine. Arwin winced as several pops resonated loudly in the small room.
“As always, I appreciate your service immensely,” Nico said, trailing a hand over the oil jugs. “But there is still the matter of the missing jug. You know I can’t afford to eat that kind of loss.”
“I ran into trouble with soldiers near Mitbas,” Mabaya said, lying through her teeth. “They
tossed the jug to the ground and smashed it to pieces before realizing I was just a harmless old woman.”
“Ha! I’ll believe that when I see it. Regardless, I’m going to need you to do another courier run for me to make up the loss.”
Mabaya crossed her arms. “I’ll take payment for this shipment, thank you very much, and then be on my way.”
Nico shook his head. “I can’t pay you for goods I didn’t receive.”
“Three-quarters payment, then.”
“Mabaya, you know the deal. You bring me goods, I give you silver. Now, we can renegotiate after everything goes down, but until then…my hands are tied.”
She stared him down for a long, hard minute before sighing and dropping her hands to her hips. “What’s the job?”
“I’m glad you could see things my way.”
Arwin stepped forward. “What about getting us to Cleighton?”
“I need a crate of tamed steel blades transported to Ansible,” Nico explained.
“That’s far too close to Harcour,” Mabaya said, “and you know it. It isn’t worth the risk.”
“Hey!” Arwin shoved her face up close to Nico’s and glared him down. “We aren’t going to Ansible. That’s fifty leagues in the wrong direction. Tell him, Mabaya. Tell him we can’t go.”
“If you don’t go, I can’t pay you anything,” Nico said to Mabaya.
The old woman looked at me, then to Arwin, an apologetic frown on her face. “I have to do this,” she said, her voice quieter than I was used to hearing. “You’ll have to continue on to Cleighton without me.”
“Ugh! I can’t believe this. After everything we did for you…you’re just an ungrateful old hag.” Arwin brushed past Nico and grabbed me by the arm. “Come on, Mal, we’re leaving.”
“To go where?” I asked.
“East! We aren’t going to Harcour, or Ansible, or anywhere else except Cleighton. That’s our destination.”
I thought of the mountain of fire to the northeast; the metals smelted and tamed by its fires were the best in the land. I wanted Mabaya’s cart to help us get there, but there wasn’t any way to sway the old woman without any promise of coin at the end of the road. My feet stuttered, stumbled, then stepped of their own volition in Arwin’s wake as we made our way out the door.