Then she stepped inside. A small tavern, the furnishings crude, simple affairs, much different than the usual places she performed. But what the common room lacked in ornamentation, its guests made up for in eagerness. A man stood on the stage, clapping his hands and leading the tavern’s patrons—all of whom were singing along, stopping their feet in time with the music—in a bawdy song about a young princess and her unlikely and scandalous encounters with a “man of ill-repute but great girth.” It was a simple song, one enjoyed not for its complex rhyming schemes or meter—of which there were neither—but for its salacious content.
Katherine smiled to herself. Such songs were frowned upon by most of those other musicians who she’d met in service to Chosen Alashia, men and women who had forgotten about the simple joy of the music, too busy thinking about themselves, about how great they were. But even simple songs had power. Power enough, for example, to pull an entire common room of people to their feet, to make them clap and laugh and dance. Power, even, to brush away some of the stress that had settled on her shoulders over the last weeks, the weight of which had become so familiar that she had not even noticed herself bent beneath it until the melody pushed it aside.
There was magic there, a magic that did not care who or what the listeners were—husbands, faithful or not, wives, honest or not. It did not matter, none of it. All of it was swept away by the power of the simple song, and, for a few minutes, they were all made into something else. Something better.
She knew she needed to hurry, to make it back to the others as soon as possible, but she stood there, clapping along, sharing happy glances with those around her, sharing in that moment as the song went on.
Then it was done, and they were once more the people they always had been. Merchants and prostitutes, clerks and smiths, and her. Katherine gave her head a slight shake, as if waking from a dream, and she saw others about the room doing the same. She wondered why this song had struck her so poignantly, then realized that it wasn’t the song. Or at least, not just that. It was her. She who was now able, it seemed, to understand the nuance of a song’s melody, its effect, in a way she never had before.
Filled with a sudden feeling of hope, she started toward the bar, meaning to strike up a conversation with the barkeep. She would have to be subtle, indirect, for though she wanted to discover what had happened to Alashia, the last thing she needed to do was to draw attention to herself. She took a seat at the bar and was considering what to say when someone tapped her on her shoulder. Elizabeth, the musician, had played her music in many places, and she had long since grown accustomed to the awkward—often unintelligible—advances of men drunk enough to convince themselves that what she wanted more than anything else was to be hit on by a man whose breath smelled like stale ale and whose idea of seduction was something along the lines of, “You got a pertty face,” or “I got me a room upstairs.”
So she suppressed a sigh and turned, expecting just such an advance, but she was surprised to find that the person standing in front of her wasn’t a drunken man. In fact, it wasn’t a man at all. The girl was skinny—too skinny, if Katherine was any judge—and she looked to be around twelve years of age. “Blonde hair, green eyes,” the girl said, blinking. “Pretty, too. You’re actually here.”
Katherine frowned, glancing around the common room, thinking that perhaps some drunk father had sent his daughter over to woo her in his stead. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but no one seemed to be paying her or the girl any attention. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Do I know you?”
“’Course not,” the girl said, “how could you? We only just met.”
Katherine waited, but when nothing more was forthcoming, she nodded slowly. “Right. Well, I wish you a pleasant day, but I’m afraid I’m busy—”
“Maybe not as nice as she said,” the girl said, frowning. “Still, she got most of it right.”
She hesitated, feeling confused and more than a little unnerved. “She?”
“That’s right,” the girl said. “The old lady with the crooked arm, got a hand like a claw and one leg looks like it was set on fire. You know, walks with a cane?”
Katherine’s heart began to beat rapidly in her chest. “Wait, do you mean Ala—”
“No names,” the girl hissed, and Katherine started at the vehemence in her tone. The girl glanced around as if to make sure no one was watching then turned back to her. “Gods, she said you were good at this. Two misses now—I’m beginning to think she was puttin’ me on, after all.”
“Forgive me,” Katherine said, “but I don’t understand any of this. Who are you? What’s your name?”
“No names, I said,” the girl repeated. “Names can get somebody killed, don’t you know? Anyhow, my name doesn’t matter. What does is the woman paid me a fortune to come and meet you and so I’m doin’ it. Don’t think I didn’t consider not. After all, I already had the money, didn’t I? I as much as told her that when she gave it to me—didn’t figure there’d be any way she’d catch me if I decided to run, not with the cane and all. And you know what she said?” the girl finished, leaning in.
“Um…no. No I don’t.”
“She said she knew I’d come, said she’d seen it. Weird, right? I figured she was pullin’ a cart with no wheels, if you know what I mean, but what the hey? Crazy coin spends too, and I figured there wouldn’t be no harm in comin’, seein’ if she was nutty after all. Unless, of course, there is harm, but I always have been too curious—my ma tells me so all the time.”
“This…this woman, she paid you to do something?”
“Sure did,” the girl said, “enough to get me and my ma out of Cheapside, and I would’ve come for that, if nothin’ else. Well, probably. ‘Less I was busy, you know, doin’ something else. Or bein’ somewhere else. I could be, you know.”
“I’m sorry…” Katherine said, her head spinning, “you could be what?”
“Somewhere else,” the girl said, shaking her head as if Elizabeth was daft. “Gods, but it’s a good thing you’re pretty, ain’t it? So do you want it or not?”
“Want what?”
The girl rolled her eyes impatiently. “Well, the letter of course, what else have we been talking about this whole time?”
“I couldn’t guess,” Katherine said dryly.
“So she gave it to me, got it all folded up and fancy, looks like the sort of thing might be sittin’ in some lord’s manor somewhere, you know? Him sittin’ around, talkin’ about the horses he owns, maybe what to do with this pile of money or that one. Yeah, he’d be openin’ a letter like this.”
“Who—”
“The lord,” she huffed in an exasperated tone. “You don’t hear well, that it? All that hair gettin’ in the way? But not a real lord, just a made-up one. Or maybe a real one, that’s for you to say.”
“For me?”
“Well, sure. It’s your letter, ain’t it?”
Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. “May I have the letter?”
The girl reached into her tunic, withdrawing a folded parchment, and Katherine’s breath caught in her throat when she recognized Chosen Alashia’s seal. She reached for it, and the girl drew back, studying her doubtfully. “I know some words, long as they ain’t so big. You need me to read it to you?”
“I can read fine, thank you,” Katherine said, snatching the letter away. She stared at the seal, cracked in several places, the wax filling the cracks looking newer, fresher than the rest, and frowned. “Have you read this?”
“Well.”
She raised an eyebrow, glancing up at the girl. “Well what?”
“You can read well. That’s how you’re s’pose to say it.”
Katherine took a deep breath, telling herself that it really wouldn’t do to start shouting at a stranger in a city where, should the guards discover her, the best outcome she could hope for would be a quick death. “And the seal?”
The girl fidgeted. “Here’s the thing, a little old lad
y, all mangled and such, comes up to you, tells you she’ll give you a fortune to deliver a letter to such and such a person at such and such a time, well, that’s suspicious ain’t it? Type of thing you’d want to know more about.”
“So you did read it.”
“’Course not,” the girl said defensively. “I’m just sayin’ it would be understandable. Readin’ it, I mean. Unless, of course, she likes to use big fancy words, the ones folks use to make themselves look smarter. She seemed like the type, you know. To use big words.”
“And was she?”
“Surprisingly, no. Actually, most of them—” The girl cut off, her eyes going wide. “That is, I couldn’t tell you one way or the other, could I? Havin’ not read it and all.”
“Of course,” Katherine said dryly. “My mistake.”
She started to open the letter then realized the girl was still standing there and looked up at her again. “Yes?”
“Yes what?”
“What?”
“Well, you said yes. I didn’t ask a question, so yes, what? Yes as in you do think she’s a woman to use big words, or yes as in you want me to read it to you?”
It was several moments before Katherine could speak. When she did, she did so carefully, thinking over each word. “What I mean to say is, do you need something else?”
The girl snorted. “Sure, all kinds of things. Some nice supple boots like yours’d be good. Or maybe a horse. Never had a horse before, but I always thought I’d like one. They’re pretty. Big too. Or, at least, pretty big. They tried to find me, you know, after she gave me the letter.”
“Wait…a horse tried to find you?”
The girl gave her an incredulous look. “No, of course not, what in the name of the gods would a horse try to find me for? I don’t even know how to ride one, or what they eat. Grass, I guess, but seems like they’d have to eat an awful lot, on account of they’re so big.”
“So who then?”
“Oh, that. Guards. Bunch of ‘em. At least, I think they were guards. Didn’t much look like ‘em. Or talk like the guards do. Come to think of it, they might not have been guards at all. Probably weren’t. They had swords, though, big ones. Or maybe…average size? I don’t know a lot about swords. Knives though, I like knives. And crossbows. Or I think I would. Never had one, but I like the idea of ‘em anyway, like ‘em from a distance, as it were. Haha. Distance. Get it?”
“No,” Katherine said, feeling her patience unravel. If the guards were following the girl, it wouldn’t be long until they charged inside, taking them both. “Anyway, what happened?”
“With the guards? Or not guards? Well, I made it away, didn’t I? Otherwise, maybe I wouldn’t be standin’ here talkin’ to you. Not that I’ve particularly enjoyed it so far, but you never know, there’s still time. I’m charitable like that—everyone says so. Well. Not in my hearin’, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they do. Say so that is.”
“What I meant,” Katherine said, “is, is there anything else I can help you with, or are you finished? If so, I would really hate to keep you from your business.”
“How could you keep me from it?” the girl asked, appearing genuinely curious. “After all, just now, you’re my business, ain’t you? Or, at least, the letter is, and since it’s your letter, it makes sense that you’re my business too.”
“Yes, quite,” Katherine managed, feeling a headache forming from listening to the girl’s rapid, round-about way of speaking. “Well, thank you very much for delivering it. Now, I believe our business is concluded, and you may be on your way.”
“Sure,” the girl said. “Just as soon as you give me my payment.”
“Payment? I thought you had been given a small fortune already.”
“Well, I had. But that was her payment. Not yours. And she told me you’d have two whole dawns for me. Told me I just had to ask. Nice-like. So this is me. Doing that.”
Katherine frowned. In the last few days she had been chased and attacked, set to be executed, and yet she felt herself growing nostalgic for those moments. “So you mean to tell me that all you’ve been waiting on to leave was payment?”
“Sure. What else?”
“You should have said something sooner.”
“Well, I couldn’t have, could I? Be weird, askin’ for payment before I gave you the letter. What are the chances you’d have given me money without anythin’ in return?”
“Besides your absence? Fairly good, I’d say. Now, how much?”
“Two dawns ought to do it. That’s what the woman told me to ask for, so I’m askin’ for it. Thought about askin’ you for three, if I’m honest, but I didn’t want to be greedy, make a nuisance of myself.”
“Gods forbid.” But there was another issue. Katherine had spent the last days running for her life, trying her best not to be killed by the Redeemers, by Tesharna’s men, or, of course, by the nightlings. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d checked her coin purse. With a sigh, she reached into it, hating how empty it felt. For a moment, she thought there was nothing inside, then her fingers brushed against a coin, then another.
She withdrew everything from the purse, the girl watching her closely, and set the coins on the counter. Two dawns stared up at her, and she blinked. Too much to believe that it was just happenstance that Alashia would guess the exact amount of money she had. Not a coincidence at all…but the Chosen had always told her that her ability to see into the future was muddy, little more than random images and feelings. This seemed strangely specific.
She was still thinking about that when the coins seemed to vanish into thin air, and she looked up to see the girl withdrawing her hand from her own tunic. “Thanks. Now, I suppose I’d better be going.” Katherine nodded, breaking the seal of the letter and beginning to unroll the parchment before she realized that the girl was still standing there.
“Unless, that is,” the girl said, suddenly not meeting her eyes, “you’d like for me to come with you.”
Katherine frowned. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Well. Surely, you’re going somewhere, and you seem like the sort that has adventures. You do, don’t you? Have adventures?”
“I’m a musician, a singer. The most adventure I get is walking from one tavern to another.”
“Which are you going to now, then?”
“What?”
“Which tavern? After you leave this one, that is.”
Katherine stared at the girl. “I’m afraid that isn’t any of your business, and, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t like discussing my plans with complete strangers.”
“Marta.”
“Excuse me?”
“My name,” the girl said, glancing around as if afraid someone might overhear, “it’s Marta.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Marta. I’m Ka—Elizabeth.”
“Sure, sure. So, now that we’re not strangers,” the girl said, “can I go with you?” Something eager in her eyes, so eager as to be almost desperate. In her role as Alashia’s agent, Katherine had seen such looks before. It was the look a man—or a woman—got when they were running from something. But whatever the girl’s problem was, Katherine had more than enough of her own.
“I’m sorry but no.” The girl nodded, a dejected expression of disappointment covering her face. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favor,” Katherine said.
The girl didn’t respond for a moment, then she finally raised her head, her eyes narrowed angrily. “How can I trust you? After all, we’re strangers. Aren’t we?”
With that, she turned and stomped away. Katherine watched her disappear into the crowd, surprised and more than a little unnerved by the encounter. Then she remembered the letter and all thoughts of the girl vanished. She glanced around, making sure she was alone, then unfolded the parchment.
Katherine,
I would say that I hope this letter finds you well, but I have seen some small part of what you have undergone in the days past, so I will not. I wi
sh for you to know that I am sorry for what you have suffered. I would have protected you from such pain, were I able. Still, by now you have met allies, and that gives me some peace.
I know that you are concerned for my welfare and it is that concern which has brought you to this tavern. As I write this letter, I am preparing to leave Galia, the city that I love, and begin the journey to Valeria, accepting Tesharna’s invitation. I am old, Katherine. Old and tired, and Galia is my home. In truth, I am finding it difficult to leave, to say goodbye. For this will be the last time I look out upon my city, just as this will be the last time that you and I will speak. Tomorrow, I leave…I will not return. That much, at least, has been shown to me.
You might wonder why, knowing what fate awaits me, I would go to Valeria. I can only tell you that I have seen the results of the other choices I might make—clearer visions I have rarely seen—and this is the best option, the only real one. For down the others lie death, not just mine but many more. So many. I know this must not make any sense to you and perhaps it never will, but I ask only that you trust my choice. The lives of thousands, Katherine, for that of one old woman—it is an easy trade to make. At least, mostly.
By the time you read this, I will be dead. Do not pity me, whatever you do, for I have lived longer, fuller years than most, and I am so very tired. I think I would like a rest. Know too, that I love you, that I have loved you since you were a young girl playing such beautiful, sweet music in the street. Never lose that girl, Katherine. Remain a light in a world that so desperately needs it. There are dark days ahead. I cannot see what will come, in the end, but remember that you are not alone, and that no matter how dark the night gets, still it is chased away by the sun.
Stay close to Alesh—he will need you and the others, in the days to come, but perhaps you most of all. And whatever happens, keep your faith, Katherine, that most of all, for it is a light when all others go out.
—With love,
Alashia, your friend
P.S. Keep she who carried this letter close. I do not know much, but I know that she has some part to play in what is coming.
The Truth of Shadows Page 14