The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4)

by David J Normoyle

  “I have information.” As usual, Coinal’s expression was a happy one. “As long as you mean to keep up your part of the deal.”

  “How did you find me here?” Bowe didn’t have a clue what deal Coinal was talking about.

  “If you want to have a secret meeting with another Guardian, don’t travel in your rickshaws to a place like this. Might seem like a dark, isolated place is a good spot, but this’ll be the top story told by the newsbards tomorrow.”

  Bowe got the impression that Coinal was talking as much to the Greens on either side as he was to Bowe, and he realized what was going on. Coinal was trying to gather Defenders with the promise that he had a deal with the Bellanger Guardian. Once again, Bowe found himself admiring Coinal’s gumption. “We’ll talk further inside my rickshaw. Our deal depends on the quality of the information that you supply.”

  Coinal’s grin widened—he nodded to the boy to either side of him as if to say, I told you—then followed Bowe back to the rickshaw and climbed in behind him. “Thanks.”

  “Quite a risk you took.”

  “It’s the Path. There’s no easy way to survive it.”

  “What happens when the Greens find out there is no deal?”

  “There is a deal. We just haven’t ironed out the details yet. You advised me to figure out how to make myself useful. And I have. You are helping Stenesso combat the Guild, right?”

  “Maybe.” How many knew about that? Were they also aware of Sindar’s imprisonment?

  “I know where the Guild is headquartered, and I can help you watch them. You can’t go anywhere without everyone knowing about it, as you’ll have noticed tonight.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Your marshals will also stick out like a sore thumb. A few scruffy Greens, on the other hand, would not be out of place anywhere.”

  “So you are offering to have yourself and your fellow Greens spy on the Guild for me? You don’t realize how dangerous the Guild is.”

  Coinal grinned. “I don’t care. Not because I’m brave, just because I have no other way to survive.”

  “And in return you expect me to select you. And you’ve promised to chose one those friends of yours outside.”

  “Well, why not? You have three Selections.”

  Bowe chuckled. It did make perfect sense. A rather ingenious idea from the young Green. And even though Bowe wasn’t particularly keen on helping Stenesso, he did want to be kept informed on what the Guild was up to. And this gave Bowe an excuse to select Coinal. No, not just an excuse; the boy deserved it if he could pull this off. “I can’t make any definite promises. But your deal is sound.”

  Coinal bounced up and down on the rickshaw cushion. “I knew it. I knew you’d help me.”

  “Calm yourself. There’re no guarantees on the Path.” At moments like this, Bowe realized how young the boy still was. “Now, about this Guild headquarters?”

  “It’s at the Eye.” Coinal’s grin threatened to split his head in two. “Things there have changed recently. Those who don’t fall in line with the Guild have just disappeared; it doesn’t matter whether they are Eye fighters or bet takers or even Grenier marshals. Supplies, maybe weapons, are sneaked in during the night.”

  That sounded like Hess’s handiwork. “What about the ascor in charge?” Legrand was in charge of the Fortress, and Bowe didn’t know who had replaced him as head of the Eye.

  “Drakasi. But he isn’t around too much. He’s more interested in training the Grenier Greens.”

  “Okay, tell me what you learn. But be careful.” Greens had enough problems without making an enemy of Hess.

  Coinal hopped out off the rickshaw. “Agreed, Guardian.” He said it loud enough that the other Greens would hear.

  A note fell off the seat that Coinal vacated. “You dropped something.” Bowe bent to pick it from the floor of the rickshaw.

  “That’s not mine.” Coinal scampered across to the other Greens.

  Bowe opened up the note and looked at the signature. Coinal hadn’t been the only one to take advantage of everyone knowing where Bowe was. The note was from Iyra.

  Chapter 8

  29 Days Left

  The next afternoon, Bowe was dressed in escay clothes at Drywell Square. This time he went straight to Iyra’s stall. The old woman recognized him. “Your boy is here!” she called into the small tent behind her back.

  Iyra stepped out, and without saying a word, took Bowe’s arm and led him away. Surprised but intrigued, Bowe was happy to walk where she led.

  “You didn’t correct your friend. When she said I was your boy.”

  “Well, maybe you are my boy. Just for one day.”

  “Would that make you my girl?”

  Iyra leaned in closer. “It’s a definite possibility.”

  “Who are you and where is the real Iyra?” Though spiked with moments of tenderness, their relationship had been defined by conflict rather than sweetness and light. That had continued with their recent meeting. “Of all the things I expected from your cryptic note, this never occurred to me.”

  “How was it cryptic?”

  Bowe remembered the words. Meet me in the Square tomorrow. Iyra. “Well, not cryptic, but it did appear in rather mysterious circumstances. Which made the very ordinariness of the message filled with intrigue.”

  “So you expected murder, mayhem, and betrayal.”

  Bowe nodded. “That’s how is usually goes.”

  “Well, not today. Today it’s just a girl with her boy.”

  Bowe came to a stop. “Does that mean I get a kiss?” He could barely believe what was happening, but he was prepared enjoy the moment.

  Iyra reached up and touched Bowe’s face. The usual bustle of the marketplace faded into the background, almost as if time had stopped for everyone else and only Bowe and Iyra were still in motion. Bowe tilted his head and leaned in close.

  Iyra danced back just before their lips touched. “You certainly haven’t done anything to deserve a kiss yet.”

  “It did seem too good to be true. What do I have to do?”

  “What do boys usually do for their girl?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’re a smart guy, figure it out. Why don’t you start by buying me a toffee apple or maybe some sweetcakes?”

  “I can do that.” Bowe patted his pockets, and his smile faded. “I didn’t bring any money.”

  Iyra shook her head. “Of course you didn’t, mush-for-brains. I’m with one of the richest men in Arcandis and I have to treat you.” She took Bowe’s hand and pulled him further into Drywell Market. “Come on.”

  People melted out of the way to either side. Bowe knew that the marketplace was as loud as ever, but somehow he didn’t hear it. He felt like he was walking through a dreamscape.

  Several tall stools sat under a high counter, with an array of brightly colored treats set up behind. Iyra took one of the stools, and Bowe sat beside her. He took a deep breath, soaking in the syrupy flavors. Sometimes too much sweetness in desserts induced a sickly feeling, but right now it seemed delightful.

  “Fredo,” Iyra greeted the man behind the counter. “What do you have for me today?”

  Fredo had a flat face with a wide nose and deep wrinkles that cut across rather than down his cheeks. “As always, I have the wonders of the universe for sale at my humble stall.”

  “I’ll let you choose for us.”

  Fredo picked up a set of metal tongs and selected a series of small sweets and toffees, placing them on two small plates. “You haven’t eaten here before, Iyra. I was beginning to suspect you were one of those.”

  “Those?” Bowe asked.

  “Someone who doesn’t like sweet foods.” Fredo shook his head heavily from side to side in mock seriousness. “Everyone knows there’s something wrong with those who can’t enjoy a good dessert.”

  “Helion, no.” Iyra matched Fredo’s seriousness. “It’s just... What do you always say about your wares—bad for t
he body but great for the soul? I’ve been concentrating on the body and it’s only now I need some nourishing soul-food.”

  “As long as you’ve finally come around.” Fredo placed the two plates in front of them, then left Bowe and Iyra to themselves.

  “Thanks for treating me.” Bowe picked out a blue-colored treat with a curved shape and popped it in his mouth. It stuck on his teeth and was sickly sweet, but he wasn’t going to complain. He didn’t want to be accused of being one of those. Iyra chewed on a chocolate, distractedly staring ahead.

  Bowe touched Iyra’s shoulder to draw her attention. “Not that I’m not thoroughly enjoying myself, but I have to know what’s going on.”

  “Can’t we just be a boy and a girl enjoying a day in the market?”

  “I can only wish that were true. But we both know it’s not. The last time we met you said it was better that we not see each other anymore. And that made more sense than this.”

  “If you want to leave, feel free.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just...what’s changed?”

  “Nothing’s changed. I just thought...” She sighed. “I was probably wrong.”

  “You weren’t wrong. This feels right. But I need to understand.”

  “Some things, when you try to analyze them, you kill them.” She sighed heavily. “How do I explain? Okay, I’ll try this. Take my hand in yours.”

  Bowe did so gladly. Iyra’s warm hand fit snugly in his. “Close your eyes and feel my skin against yours.” She closed hers and Bowe did likewise. “Do you feel it? It’s almost like energy flowing between us.”

  Bowe sensed something, but he wasn’t sure what. It was definitely more than just normal contact, though.

  “Almost sparks flowing, right?” Iyra asked.

  “Yes, almost.”

  “I think it’s special, this connection we have. There are so many reasons that we can’t be together. And yet, here we are. Over the last three years, half the time I was convinced I hated you, the other half that I had forgiven you but you no longer meant anything to me. Then we met that day and none of that mattered. The feelings between us, the connection was as strong as ever. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.”

  “I felt it,” Bowe agreed.

  To Bowe’s disappointment, Iyra released his hand. “Of course that doesn’t change anything. The Infernam will come as always. I just thought we could have one day to just enjoy this connection we share. Pretend everything is normal. Pretend this is all possible.”

  “I will with pleasure.” Bowe took the last treat and held it up. “These aren’t just food for the soul. They transport one to a magical land where there are no worries.” He chewed on it and the sweet juices fizzed inside his mouth.

  Iyra ate the last of her treats. “A magical land without worries,” she agreed.

  Fredo returned. “You’d be surprised how many customers don’t realize the magical properties of my produce. I’m glad you two are not among them.”

  Iyra placed a silver coin on the counter.

  “For you, no charge,” Fredo said.

  Iyra smiled. “I must refuse. I’m afraid the magic won’t last as long if I don’t pay.”

  “If you insist.” He reached for change in the large apron pocket at his front.

  “And I won’t accept any change.”

  Fredo looked almost stricken. “It’s much too much.”

  “You know how it works. Those with plenty...”

  Fredo’s eyes watered. “Even so.”

  Iyra patted his hand, stepping down from the high stool. “Luck.”

  Bowe glanced behind as they left Fredo’s counter. He was still staring at the silver coin, looking about to break down in tears. “You didn’t choose that place for the quality of his food.”

  “Not just for that, no. He has a young family and faces the disk.”

  For those escay who could only produce partial credit toward getting into the Refuge a circular black-and-white disk was swirled to decide their fate. The closer they were to having full credit for their place in the Refuge, the more white on the disk. For a merchant like Fredo, the more money he made in the last days before the Infernam, the greater his chance of survival. Fredo hadn’t been looking at a silver coin on his counter. He’d seen hope—a chance of survival.

  “I always wondered how those who dealt in non-essentials like art and chocolate sold anything when the Infernam came close. So those who have earned more than a full credit are generous. Such as yourself...”

  “Remember the magical properties. The Infernam doesn’t exist today.”

  They spent the remaining light of the evening in the market. Iyra seemed to know everyone, greeting many as old friends. She pointed out artwork she liked and they discussed how long it had been since water flowed in the old fountain. Bowe kept his sleeve low to hide his missing hand, but other than that he managed to forget his fears of being recognized. Iyra continued to be over generous, buying a bauble in one stall and gifting it to a child a moment later. Bowe made stupid jokes and they both laughed. By the time Iyra invited Bowe to dinner where she lived, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to accept.

  Iyra clarified that she didn’t live alone, but even so Bowe was surprised when she welcomed him into a large room with wooden rafters crisscrossing the high roof.

  Long tables ran through the center of the room and several ovens leaned against the far wall, beside which were open cabinets overflowing with food. “How is this a home? It looks like a barn pushed into emergency food service.”

  From the food area, a wide squat woman swept toward them. “Who is this insulting my kitchen? Did you call it a food barn?”

  “Well met. I’m”—Bowe hesitated—“Vitarr.”

  The woman slapped her hands together and a cloud of flour plumed up. “My hands aren’t in a state to shake, plus I’m not sure how well met you are. The first boy Iyra brings, so I’m disposed to like you, and you insult my house.”

  “This is Leti,” Iyra said.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Bowe said. “Just haven’t been in a place like this before.”

  “You’ve been in community houses before.”

  “Course he has,” Iyra said hurriedly. “He’s just still in a bit of a state from walking around with me. He’s not himself; he’s been stammering and blushing most of the day. He didn’t mean any insult.”

  “Stammering and blushing over a pretty girl. That’s what I like to hear. Men should be in that state more often. And stay in it,” Leti said.

  “Men have to get things done too,” Bowe said. “Can’t spend all our time stammering.”

  “Arguing with me. In my own kitchen. Throw him out of here this instant.”

  Iyra took Bowe’s arm and pulled him into a sitting position on a nearby bench. “She’s kidding. But you better stop talking or she won’t be soon.”

  Leti harrumphed, then returned to the kitchen area and began vigorously chopping vegetables. “In my own kitchen,” she muttered loud enough for Bowe and Iyra to hear. Then she clapped her hands and shouted out, “Girls, girls, where are you? Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”

  Doors opened in different parts of the room, and three girls scampered in. They joined Leti, and food and shouts flew back and forth between the four of them as Leti orchestrated dinner.

  “What’s a community house?” Bowe lowered his voice to hide his lack of escay knowledge. “I thought you were taking me to your home.” Bowe was keeping his right arm down by the table leg. He felt exposed and didn’t want anyone to make the connection between Iyra’s friend and the Bellanger Guardian.

  “This is my home and a home to many others. Leti takes care of us all.”

  “Why, though? There’s plenty of abandoned houses throughout Arcandis. I assume you have to pay Leti?”

  “Of course. But it isn’t about money. It’s about family.” Iyra gave Bowe a glare. “You still understand escay so little, mush-for-brains.”

&nbs
p; Bowe remembered his discussion with Eolnar. “I try, though.”

  Iyra reached across and leaned her palm down on the back of his hand. “Sorry. I know I give you a hard time and you don’t always deserve it.”

  “Wait a minute. Is that an apology?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  At that moment, a slim youth walked in. He spotted Iyra and slid in beside her. “So this is him.” He studied Bowe’s face. “He’s not handsome at all. He better be witty and charming.” The youth waited for a response.

  Bowe shrugged.

  “Clearly not. What do you see in him, Iyra?”

  “Shut up, Yac.”

  “And to think you turned down all my advances for this gumbo.”

  “You didn’t make any advances.”

  “That’s because I thought you had taste. If I’d known you’d let a skinny, pale-faced gumbo kiss you...”

  “Yac.”

  Yac nodded. “Yes, I know. Shut up.” He got up and went to the kitchen area where he got his hand slapped for grabbing food.

  “What do people know about me?”

  “I just asked Leti if I might bring an extra to dinner. Everything else is based on talk and speculation.”

  “What’s a gumbo?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “But you don’t want to tell me?”

  “Not at the kitchen table, B—ah, Vitarr.”

  The smells of cooking developed, becoming richer as Leti continued to direct operations. The tables filled up as the rest of Leti’s community arrived for their evening meal. Before sitting, most threw an appraising look at Bowe and a few made a comment designed to make Iyra blush. She took everything in good spirits though and often had a rejoinder that evoked laughter from everyone except Bowe, who didn’t know the inside jokes. Still, Bowe enjoyed the warm camaraderie even if he wasn’t fully included.

  When a young teenage girl walked in, Iyra gestured her over. The girl sat beside Iyra and leaned back into the crook of Iyra’s arm.

  “This is Morah,” Iyra introduced her. She was about fourteen with beautiful, long black hair.

  “Nice to meet you,” Bowe said, having figured out that well met as a greeting was too formal for this gathering.