by Drae Box
Giften’s soil! Not Uncle Denzel! Warily Aldora eyed Raneth as he frowned at her. “That’s my dad’s little brother,” she admitted. “He always had a bit of a grudge against royal officials, but I never thought he’d do something like this. He’s a bookseller, for goodness sake.”
Raneth fiddled with the positioning of his sword at his waist, realigning where it sat on his belt and toying with the grip. “I don’t like it,” he finally murmured.
If Dad’s still alive, this could do him in, she thought anxiously.
“We have an observer,” warned Pedibastet, his white ears twitching as he looked towards the counter of the shop. He poured himself from Aldora’s arms and sat on the same shelf as the newspapers.
Aldora turned her gaze to the shopkeeper. He was looking down at a scrap of paper beside his till, then looking up at Raneth, then looking down at the paper again. With a frown, the man repeated the process twice more. Oh bother. He’s recognising us. That must be a picture of Raneth he’s got there. Aldora yanked the paper from Raneth’s hands and shoved it back onto the shelf, and then dragged him outside as Pedibastet followed.
“We should head to Green City,” said Raneth as Aldora continued to tug him through the crowd, bumping and knocking into those slower than them on the street. “We have friends there who can help us get this all straightened out in our heads and figure out our next move.”
“I like that plan.” Aldora shoved a teenage boy out of the way and turned into a less crowded side street. “But I don’t think we’re going to get close to the other gate with this much foot traffic about.”
“We won’t,” confirmed Raneth. “If there were royal official footholds in the inner and outer walls, I’d suggest we use those, but Wisner doesn’t have any.” He looked over his shoulder.
How scared is he right now? wondered Aldora as she watched him check their six. He’s been a law enforcer almost all his life, and it’s my fault he’s a known royal official in the first place. I told everyone about him when they asked about the Quest. At least when King Cray and his tribunes sentence a criminal, they only send one or two royal officials to arrest them. The idea that everyone who’s money hungry is looking out for us, and that there could be a few hundred people looking to kill him because of some stupid idea that royal officials are murderers – that would definitely terrify me if I was him. She walked around a white cat lazing in a sunspot on the path. I’m terrified for Raneth, but he doesn’t even look scared.
“Raneth, are you OK?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said stiffly, looking at the houses either side of them. “Just figuring out where we are so I can find where the nearest sewer entrance is.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
He glanced at her. “One thing I’ve learned as a royal official and a Bayre is that even if you’re having an accident in your pants, you still move forwards. I don’t have time right now to be scared.”
“Just like it doesn’t help me to worry about my family,” realised Aldora.
“Exactly.” Raneth kissed the top of her head. “We’ll push through this, one bit at a time. We just have to keep our heads. There should be a sewer entrance in the next side street.”
Raneth insisted on being the first down into the sewer to give the all clear, so Aldora stood next to the manhole cover with Pedibastet, waiting for him to call up.
“This reminds me a lot of the Quest,” she said to Pedibastet.
“Except you didn’t have so many enemies outside of the village back then,” stated Pedibastet. “Do not worry. Raneth has been trained for this.”
Aldora frowned at the cat. Is that kind of training normal for royal officials? Has Cray been expecting this to happen for a while?
“Come on down, A,” called Raneth.
Aldora picked Pedibastet up and zipped up her jacket around him as he dug his claws into her shoulders and nestled his head next to hers. “You feel safe like that?” she asked as she took a step closer to the sewer entrance.
“Not really,” admitted Pedibastet. “But Raneth will catch you if we fall.”
Not without seriously hurting himself, noted Aldora as she stepped down onto the first rung of the ladder. She winced as Pedibastet dug his claws even harder into her, his back legs’ claws finding purchase against her skin too. She moved slowly down the ladder, grimacing as each metal rung sang out her descent to anyone close enough to hear. When she reached the ground, she opened her jacket and helped Pedibastet down. She glanced back up at the opening.
“I’ll get it,” offered Raneth, speeding up the ladder and pulling the manhole cover back into place. Then he slid down the ladder and smiled at Aldora in the gloom, his expression only visible by the small glow of three candles tucked on the other side of the ladder. “Let’s go and see how the criminal bazaar is faring with Cray’s…” He frowned and scratched at the side of his chin. “Cray’s not being here.”
Aldora watched as Raneth walked ahead of her and Pedibastet. “Do you think he’s worried about Cray?” she asked the Prince of the Cats.
“I imagine so. I am,” replied Pedibastet. “I just hope that he’s safe. Lemuela and Queen Louise too. I’m surprised he didn’t send word to us about what was going on.”
“That’s a good point,” murmured Aldora. “Even if he had very little time, he could have asked Drigoe to use his gift to materialise to us and pass on a message.” Drigoe. Why hadn’t she thought of calling Drigoe before? His gift was perfect for this. Perfect for finding out what had happened to Cray and the Kingdom’s Shield. Perfect for whisking her and Raneth away to somewhere safe. Aldora grinned then jogged up to Raneth’s side. “Raneth, what if we call Drigoe? He might be able to tell us what’s going on, take us somewhere safe and tell us if the rest of my family’s alive.”
The royal official slowed to a stop and scratched at an elbow as he mulled over her suggestion. “Good idea. Give it a go.”
She closed her eyes and concentrated on Drigoe’s face. “Drigoe, come here, please.” Aldora waited for her brother-in-law to materialise next to them. When he didn’t appear after a few blinks of her eyelashes, she decided to try again. “Drigoe?” She turned around. Not behind us either. “He must not be able to ‘hear’ us. That’s not happened before.”
The grim look Raneth gave her warned what he thought.
“I don’t think he’s dead,” she uttered. “His gift gives him the perfect escape.”
“Maybe he’s just busy and he’ll come to us later,” offered Raneth before reclaiming Aldora’s hand in his. “Until we know, we’re on our own. Come on. Let’s keep moving.”
Aldora walked at his side quietly and Pedibastet strolled behind them. I hope that’s all it is. If something happened to Drigoe because he stepped in to try and help Cray, Alika will be beyond miserable. Aldora clenched her teeth. And angry. She could do something stupid if she’s angry enough.
They stepped through a break in the sewer tunnel wall that led into a wider disused tunnel. Glancing left and right, Aldora noticed that the candles that had been lighting their way continued to be dotted along the route on their right side. They followed the candles until the tunnel opened into a large area where four wide tunnels met each other, with one large connecting dome between them. The criminal bazaar, she thought watching the mass of men and women talking and shouting over one another. Some just ate in silence, sitting on wooden crates, whilst others haggled with one another at makeshift stalls set up on crates. They all seemed too busy to notice her, Raneth and Pedibastet. Probably a good thing, she thought, even as her eyes locked with a woman. Thought too soon. But the woman didn’t immediately cry out, pointing to the royal official. She turned her back and walked away, disappearing in the sweaty-smelling gaggle of people. Aldora observed two men standing either side of a large wooden crate, discussing the weapons laid out upon it, before she swept her focus onto the others. Each person in the bazaar was buying, selling or chatting.
Aldora pointed at a man with
bundles of clothing. “There.”
Raneth nodded and prowled over to the seller, his left hand settling onto the grip of his sword, ready to draw. Aldora watched the seller carefully as Raneth eyed the clothing. It was organised by type: tops, shirts, trousers, jackets, skirts, hats and dresses. She gave the seller a quick smile but he glared at her.
“We don’t want any trouble,” she said.
The seller glanced at Raneth then Aldora. “You sure?”
Aldora nodded.
Raneth plucked a grey hoodie and a darker grey beanie from two piles. “How much?” he asked.
“One of your throwing daggers will cover those,” stated the seller as he folded his arms. “Or money.”
Raneth glanced down at the weapons around his belt. I don’t like this, thought Aldora. He needs as many of his weapons as possible to defend himself. The royal official slid free one of the throwing daggers near the small of his back and held it out to the seller, who snatched it from his hand.
“Nice doing business with you, RO. And don’t you two worry. I’ll stay quiet about you both if you give me another one.”
“Fine,” grumbled Raneth as he hugged the new clothes to his chest with an arm. He pulled another dagger from the back of his belt and placed it into the seller’s waiting hand. Then he turned and headed back towards the tunnel they had entered through. Aldora followed, watching Raneth dump his royal official jacket onto the ground as he walked. She picked it up and hugged it to her chest.
Away from the main hub of criminal activity, Aldora rested her side against the wall of an adjoining tunnel and watched Raneth play around with the grey beanie’s position on his head. Pedibastet started to clean his fur as Aldora lowered herself onto the floor. She crossed her legs and rested her back against the wall.
“This is berserk,” she murmured. “I never expected we’d come home to this.”
Pedibastet climbed into her lap and curled up. “It could be worse. We could still be in the Newer Kingdom.”
“I think that would actually be better,” she admitted softly, glancing at Raneth as he sat down next to her, wearing the grey hoodie. “At least their queen didn’t try to vilify Raneth.”
“True,” agreed Pedibastet. “But she would happily have forced him into giving her an heir as soon as you were out of the picture.”
Raneth grunted his displeasure at the idea.
“At least now we know what Lodema was talking about when you got the Shotput of Power off her. Broken Crown,” said Pedibastet, referring to their assignment in Newer. Lodema, a Giften royal detective, had been terrified that Broken Crown had sent them to take the Shotput off her, that it hadn’t been Cray to send them to find it. She’d even thought the terrorist group had brainwashed Cray. She didn’t believe that they didn’t know anything and they’d had to kill her to save themselves.
Aldora rested her head on Raneth’s warm shoulder. “Broken Crown,” she murmured. “That explains why she thought I knew who Koyla was. It must be somebody that’s been helping my uncle.”
“Do not get too comfy,” urged Pedibastet almost as soon as she had done so. He stood up, his white paws pressing into the side of Aldora’s knee.
Aldora looked in the same direction as Pedibastet and saw a man looking back at them, smiling. She turned to Raneth. “Do you know him?”
Raneth nodded. “Yeah. He’s a weapon smuggler called Burgth. Your sister needed my help finding him in 2006, not long after Cray’s kidnapping. And it looks like he just told that kid to go and tell somebody.”
Aldora swept her gaze back to Burgth and saw a small boy running away from him towards a different exit. “We’d better go then.” She pushed Pedibastet off her lap and walked briskly down the tunnel, heading back the way they had come. Raneth and Pedibastet fell into step beside her.
“How are we going to get ahead of this if we can’t even lay low?” she asked.
Raneth wrapped an arm around her waist. “We adapt. How do you feel about rooftops?”
That I’d probably fall off and break my neck. “I’ll manage,” she promised, keeping her concerns to herself. No point making him more worried about me. “Do you want to go up first?”
Raneth slid his arm free from her when they reached the ladder. “Yeah, I’ll peek out and take Pedibastet up. He can keep lookout as we climb out.”
Aldora sat down at the side of the ladder whilst the boys headed up it. While she waited, she dumped her bag next to her and rolled her shoulder to relieve some of the tension building in it from carrying the bag and the day’s events. If I can just talk to my uncle, I might be able to save Raneth. Light spilled in from above and Aldora focused her attention on Raneth and Pedibastet. The Prince of the Cats was scrabbling out of the sewer manhole as Raneth gripped onto the rungs. He wasn’t waiting for the cat, though; he peeked out before he climbed up and joined the cat on the side street. He looked down and gave her a thumbs up.
Aldora stood and shrugged her bag back into place before speeding up the ladder.
“All we need is a drainpipe,” stated Raneth as he slid the manhole cover back into place. He wiped his fingers on the sides of his trousers. “A metal one, preferably. They’re better at taking our weight.”
Aldora grabbed his hand again and led him down the side street, examining both sides for a drainpipe. Reluctantly stepping clear of the side street and into another main thoroughfare, Aldora spotted one on the front of a house two doors down. She felt a pressure on her hand as Raneth gently tugged her back towards the side street. Without a word, Aldora backtracked and snuggled close to the edge of the building.
“More weird uniforms,” whispered Raneth, pointing to the left. “That side. Brown jackets.”
Aldora rested a hand against the wall and snuck a glance around the corner. A group of ten men and women, walking in two lines side by side, took up the centre of the street. The jackets they wore that had attracted Raneth’s attention were brown but only went to the waist, unlike the black ones; these ones also had a small emblem of a crown broken in two on the left breast pocket. Each member of the group had at least one sword on their weapons belt, and three of them had the handles of large crossbows sticking proudly from their backs. Aldora tucked herself back out of sight.
“What now?” she whispered.
Raneth shrugged. “When I’m tracking a criminal, they normally find somewhere else to hide until I leave the area.”
“And if that was Thane?” asked Aldora.
“I’d be running back the way I came before he and his guys could spot me.”
Aldora grabbed his hand and yanked him into a sprint.
“Oi! Stop!”
Aldora glanced over her shoulder to see that one of the men with the brown jackets had spotted them as they came in line with the side street. She hissed a profanity and she, Raneth and Pedibastet ran back the way they had come and erupted into the street they had been on earlier. It still wasn’t as busy as the others. The Dagger Bearer darted across the street and into a new side turning. A sharp yank on her hand from Raneth was the only warning she got before she smashed into a brown jacket. A second tug from the royal official’s hand drew her out of the brown jacket’s reach.
“How?” she murmured as the brown jackets looked her and her friends up and down.
“Different group,” stated Raneth.
Aldora gave the brown jackets a nervous smile as she tiptoed backwards, still clutching Raneth’s hand, and drew the Dagger of Protection with her right hand.
“Everybody stay back,” she urged, lifting the gold blade of the Dagger and pointing it at the ten brown jackets slowly advancing on them. “Don’t follow us.”
“Release the royal official’s hand,” urged a voice behind her.
This time Raneth took the opportunity to swear. He slipped his hand free from Aldora’s and splayed his hands palms out towards the two groups of brown jackets that had fenced them in.
“Back off or I’ll kill the lot of you,” he grow
led.
“Raneth, that’s not exactly helping to clear your name,” stated Pedibastet.
“Shut up, Prince.”
I have to help us out of this. Pedi’s right – I can’t have it going around that Raneth used his Common Gift of Ice to kill twenty people. Aldora pointed the blade of the Dagger down towards the floor. A blue tear slipped free from the tip of the blade and splashed onto the ground in front of her feet. Aldora closed her eyes as she heard the familiar pop, accompanied by a bright flash of light. The blue tear expanded outwards as she opened her eyes, sweeping through her, Raneth and Pedibastet and turning into a semi-transparent blue dome that bashed against the brown jackets and flung them out of the street. The buildings either side crumpled against the blue dome, their bricks cracking and giving way as they tumbled down.
“Aldora,” warned Raneth.
“I know,” she grumbled. “But I don’t know how to move the dome with us.”
The brown jackets were climbing to their feet, except for three of them who stayed on their backs. It must have knocked those three out, reasoned Aldora. Maybe from direct contact or from hitting their heads when they fell.
Raneth moved to the back of the dome, back in the direction they had just come from. “I can use my ice gift to push them back without killing them.”
“Do it,” instructed Pedibastet. “We cannot allow you two to be caught by them!”
Aldora stepped to Raneth’s side as he inched a palm near the blue dome. He inspected the damaged buildings either side of them, then looked at Aldora.
“You ready?” he asked.
Aldora pointed at his raised hand. “You’re not. Make your mist now so you can just fling it.”
He grumbled in his throat as he eyed the brown jackets either side of them.
He’s nervous because they’re already getting up. “Just do it,” urged Aldora softly. “Please, Raneth.”
He nodded and held his hands palm down in front of his chest. White mist seeped from the centre of his palms, rushing at the ground and crashing outwards, hiding their feet and all but Pedibastet’s head and tail in the white smog.