Chapter One: The City

"It was a fresh day full of promise and chance,

yet empty were the faces I met along the way."

~ Alcion Praetier, Emerelian Writer

From Follies of a Stowaway

I

If you were high in a tower, overlooking the city of Bourg and it's terrifying walls, you'd probably have a cool breeze all to yourself, you selfish bastard.

Lava was pounding through the veins in my head and my breath was nearly burning my lips, and I'd no choice but to be running. I was heading to an open lecture from a master scholar, someone I was supposed to impress with my knowledge of things so that - in my case - he would recommend me to another scholar, preferably of biology like I'd studied. I'd worked myself to the bone getting here, and there likely wasn't to be another open lecture like this until the heatwave broke. And I was late.

As was the other girl who stumbled into me, nearly mashing my face into a brick wall. She nearly lost balance trying to steady me, forcing me to grab her back. I twisted my head so I wasn't huffing in her face and let go once she was on two feet. She was dressed in all white, a few metal tokens hanging from her mid-riff, but she didn't have a university amulet like me.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

I breathed away frustration and shook my head.

"On your way to the lecture too?" I asked.

She stared at the amulet on my neck, pulling the hair from her face. "I - yes - well I don't know. He's a scholar of Humanities and Law, isn't he?" Her voice almost died as a squeak.

"Basically a glorified attorney, isn't it?" I smiled then began to leave, but didn't hear footsteps her follow.

She stood frozen. "I don't know i-if I belong here. I mean… You've got that brilliant look in your eye, you're smart. I'm… not. Besides, what if he calls on me? I'm filthy."

"That's what we're here to do is to learn. Nobody has gotten smarter staying at home. And no one will smell you over themselves - I can't. There isn't water for tea, much less a bath."

Her eyes wandered down, considering.

I smiled. "Besides, what else have you got to do today?"

She smiled, all doubt melting away from her face.

I locked my arm with hers. "Come on," I laughed, pulling her along.

"What do you study?" she asked.

"Biology. I spent a lot of time in the woods as a kid, so it comes naturally to me. What do you want to study?"

She smiled. "The weather. I sort of want to know how clouds form."

"You know, I've never even thought about it," I lied.

She smiled wider. "Where're you from?"

"A village called Vallos. I think it's a northern dialect word that means 'Village.'"

She laughed. "Is everyone there as nice as you?"

I shook my head. "You'd find better friends in the bothies."

"Well, it's not a wonder you left then. What's your name?"

"MeAmsa Risau. And yours?"

"CeLiana Tellens. My da says when I'm stubborn I'm just a Tellens, though."

I laughed. A warm feeling spread in my stomach. …I guess I've already made a friend._

If she said more it faded into my thoughts. It was too exciting hearing the shuffling crowd ahead, already bringing dreams of all the books I'd buy with my grant money. There were loads of people, but fewer than I'd expected. Mostly younger like me, many with university pendants, but a few older faces dotted the spectacle. We joined in the back.

Up on a platform was the scholar. He was asking questions, listening to what the person thought, and then sharing his own knowledge or opinion. Murmurs ran through the crowd at his every statement. I couldn't hear very well, so with a reciprocal nod to my new friend I let her arm go and pushed further into the crowd. Each university medallion I saw rose more amber in my chest.

The scholar was dressed in a light green toggle-tunic, with the king's crest displayed on cloth behind him. The folds on his forehead were deeply furrowed in focus on the girl reciting a poem to him. My memory couldn't absorb a word of what the girl spoke, too concerned with thinking. But I still heard the clarity and _beauty_ in her voice.

A boy after her, answering a question about astronomy, and the next about philosophy. Everyone seemed ready to laugh at his response, but the scholar looked around dryly, making their faces drop neutral. _Don't they have an opinion of their own?_ I thought. _It's not even a debate. Why are they so judgemental? He made a well constructed point, if misguided._ In fact I stood in wonder at him, understanding my new friend's hesitation. I doubted if I could recite things so concisely.

The girl after him answered about astronomy, and the next on maths. The questions were so… Dry. Not one got to the core of things. No dazzling technicality on mechanics or chemistry. Barely anything of metalworking. Not even mentioning the war, or Magi. I didn't hear a single question about Stereon history; an odd thing for a humanities scholar. _It's just as well, I didn't study much history._

A moment later his finger was on me. Sparks filled my stomach. I hadn't expected to be called on so soon.

_I'm not ready._

_Breathe._

I stepped up, feeling the sun concentrate on me. Knowledge rushed to the front of my head. Photosynthesis, cattle rumination, cannibal plants, cardiovascular physiology, common herbal medicines, atmospheric pressure and it's affects on bird migration.

"What is it you study?" he asked in a deep baritone, eyeing my amulet.

"Biology, mastering botany and zoology," my voice rang more confidently than expected.

"A double master? Ambitious." He stroked his beard.

"The two often intersect." I breathed deeply.

"As do most things." He nodded.

I nodded back. The ambering in my stomach stoked my chest with confidence.

And if it wasn't biology related? The five tenants of Stereos and the Stereon creed, fictional literature, Euoghin's sun cycle projections for farming, the process of carbonising wood for medicine. I'd even made sure to read up on some metalworking and geology in preparation for joining the rest of Stereos.

"What are the four aspirations of water in the atmosphere?" He asked.

"Precipitation, transpiration, evaporation, and condensation," I listed, without a moment's hesitation.

"And why should a beetle care?"

I smirked. "They all have to do with plants. Hydrated plants produce longer and more pliable fibers, and make for more nutritious food. Beetles use plants for food and nesting. Too much moisture and they can't chew plants. Too little and it might fall apart as nesting."

A thoughtful crease ran through his face, then, a slight nod.

"Very well thought out. You don't just read, it seems you think too."

Thunder pounded in my ears. Electricity ambered my entire body. I could hardly keep from jumping off the platform and shouting victory with a raised fist.

I smiled widely, and deeply. "For the same reasons, it can also interfere with their sigolgry in tree bark, making them vulnerable to predators."

His face fell and his head shook. The crowd gazed on, expressionless.

"The carvings they make is from mating. Sigolgry is Magi nonsense."

A heavy disapproval choked the air. Murmurs spread.

"Sigolgry isn't about magic, it's proposed that the carved channels influence the concentration and projection of the hormones and scents…" My voice faded.

The scholar's face held back a bellowed anger like bands on a barrel. The crowd had already decided against me. There was no argument to be had. The blood drained from my face and my chest collapsed.

"The carvings are random. I'm sure you read it from some hack who was too blown on some bad mushrooms to see properly, so I don't blame you entirely. But it's a fool who carries on false words, is it not?"

"Yes sir," I murmured.

He waved me away. Just like that.

People shifted away as I stepped into the crowd. I turned to the stage, too weak to force a way out of the crowd. I rubbed my wrists. It felt as though my insides had spilled out. He pointed, bringing another girl up.

"Who said that a voice is carried by the grace of beauty?" he asked her.

_Was that meant for me?_

"Would you mind leading us through _O' Stereon, A King?"_ It felt like his voice echoed in the background of my thoughts.

Her voice carried over the crowd. Vicious amusement contorted their faces, sneering like they used to back in my village. And not just that, some were pitying, as though I wasn't even worthy of contempt. I tried to ignore it, to enjoy her singing.

More voices joined, the thunderous chorus pounded the air. "Our blood spills iron, our sweat spits hail! Can you hear us call? A Stereon is king of them all!"

I felt like a shadow after realising everyone around me was singing along. It'd only been played a few times by the odd troubadour in my village. They cast glances, trying to decide whether a witch was in their presence. My face was flushed scarlet.

I'd tried to play by their rules, to do everything right. Pandered to their humiliating rituals and ridiculous customs. _Who are they to judge? None of them are here on merit. I don't see one mismatched stitch on their clothing. Garneys, the lot of them._ I marched off, not even looking for the girl I'd met. She'd probably think me diseased, too. One, a boy with reddish hair and freckles, put me over the edge with a side eye.

"GO REPOPULATE YOUR BOG!" I screamed, with a hard shoulder through the last of them.

Regret followed once the voices were gone. _I just embarrassed myself in front of him -He'll probably tell all the other scholars about the spectacle he saw today - it'll be impossible to have one accept me now. What have I done?_

I breathed. _No, it's alright. I can always just work for Jarrene._ As I got further away, I calmed. I had a secret they didn't, Jarrene. The best friend a girl could have. She was one of the best leather-workers in existence, and it wouldn't be long before she needed to hire people. And I'd already helped her plenty enough to know what to do.

Once I talked to her, she'd make all of this better. She was a couple of years older than me, and she always had a cutting joke that ended strife. And even if I couldn't get a scholar, I was sure she'd need help in her shop. I left straight for the shop's district, past the market.

It was easy finding a route; I'd already wandered that direction before in a bout of insomnia. When the horizon finally smothered the sun and the city was barely a sleeping heartbeat, there was something freeing about the dark streets. It was exciting to tell myself it was risky, but if you took mind to avoid the bothies it was safer than the day. Besides, life on the border taught me _plenty_ about risk.

Not too many criminals were around; The Garda were out in force lately, and the prisons had become rancid boxes where the method of overflow was heatstroke or execution; not quite a coveted destination. My eyes were already keenly mapping some places to explore. Through the alleyways, away from people… In fact, I loved the alleys so much, you could call me an alley-cat.

No.

That was stupid.

Forget that.

It wasn't until arriving at the shops that I realised I didn't _exactly_ remember where Jarrene's shop was. She'd written it down, but that piece of paper was somewhere back at our home. It was somewhere in the smaller shops… But what was considered small? I walked winding street after crooked alley, each filled with rundown shops next to blaring, colourful signage. People walked in and out of stores, wheeling barrels and moving boxes. Garneys walked with women in arm, looking at shiny pieces of metal they'd bought them as they laughed. After about half an hour, and timidly asking a few people if they'd heard of my friend, I gave up.

_I'll just go to our house. We'll talk when she gets back, if she isn't too tired. It'll help just being around her. Besides, the furnishers are supposed to show up after the golden hour._

I somehow got lost after getting away from the shops.

_Where'd I come from?_

_Oh, I remember._

A familiar laugh split the air.

I looked. A glimpse and a street above me was Jarrene. A gasp escaped my throat as I dodged behind a corner. Her crushed blue soul-gazing eyes glanced between the other's taking her company. Black curls out in force, animating gracefully with every movement. And her perfectly flat complexion that made men waver, somehow not blotched by the sun like mine. Unmistakably Jarrene.

_She said she'd be at her shop all day._

Her shoulders were relaxed. _That's not how she acts around tradesmen or patrons._ Hot panic swelled in my throat and cheeks. My chest seised. I wanted to cry out. A slight stab hit me in the ribs on hearing her laugh again, but a moment later they flushed with an empty happiness. Happy she'd found people she enjoyed. Then envy she'd made friends so easily. _She's never laughed like that around me._ I wiped my eyes and pulled myself away before she could spot me. It would've only turned us both scarlet.

I wandered vaguely towards the house. Nothing felt real. An entire life had just unravelled in a few hours. She'd already made up her mind to cut me out of her life. All of her words about working late were suddenly stinging lies. And once she decided that there was no way she'd hire me. The university was hardly an option any more, without serious lying, but what was the point of a life built on lies?

_No more options left._

_What was I thinking? I'd barely made it in my village. Why'd I think I could make it in the city?_

_Why did I open my mouth in front of that scholar?_

_Of course she'd lie. If she didn't it wouldn't hurt as much._

_I don't need her anyways._

_But I wanted that friendship._

It felt… cold.

II

A note was pinned to the door, from the company that was supposed to furnish the house, the final insult to an otherwise horrible day. "_Delivery delayed: Resident absent."_ I scoffed at it. _Never trust a company with the word "Brother's" in the name._

_I'm so tired of caring._

The thought stuck in my throat like a piece of barbed metal until it came out as a pathetic dry sob. My legs went limp, leaving me on the front steps, thinking over all of the impossible things I'd done: Stayed up countless nights studying, turning pages with freshly bloodied hands. Passed the regional exam, which paid for university and housing in the city. I'd escaped a place that treated orphans like herd animals, _I_ was the one who made it.

And my… reward?

My only friend abandoned me the moment the portcullis dropped behind us. I'd do anything to rid the burning image of her standing there, laughing like I didn't exist. It was why she'd been home late every day. It's why she'd been distant. The worst part was I didn't have a friend to talk to about losing one.

_Why'd I put in the effort if it means being alone again?_

I didn't have much time to dwell as my "friend" came whistling up the road, a picture as flawless as ever. With her clasped curls that swung behind her carved shoulders, skin glowing in the dying light, and a phoney wearied look that softened the sharp wit in her blue eyes.

"Oi, Amsa, anything yet?" Jarrene lilted.

I showed her the note, ready for her to shout, and to give it right back louder.

She simply glanced over it while going for the door latch. "Oh well, kept us at tide long enough, haven't they? Why not them for a change. How's your day?"

"Hot. Fine, otherwise." I said, unintentionally cold.

"What's happened? Not upset over the delivery lads are you?" She set her bags on the table, removed her hair pins, and shook out thick black curls.

_Whatever. I'd rather not deal with you either._ "Nothing's wrong," I shrugged.

She let out a dramatic sigh and wiped her forehead. Her eyes narrowed me down. "It's not nothing. With you it's usually everything."

_Oh and you just know me so well…_ "I… don't want to talk about it." My shoulders deflated.

"Amsa, you need to _start._ It's no good bottling a bog. If you won't talk with me maybe you should with other's you would."

"So that's it then, you're sick of me now, Jarrene?"

"I… I never said that." She sighed defeat. _Your face did._

"Whatever, you didn't- whatever." My jaw clenched. _Guilting her would ruin the point._

"You know, Amsa… you keep acting a bird who can't build her nest. Would you just give it time? You haven't even met a scholar yet," she began unpacking the bags, "Are you not wanting to be here? We said we wanted to do this together."

My lip quivered, then curled. _You're just being a manipulative bitch._ I let out a frustrated _ugh_ and escaped up the first floor ladder.

"I suppose you don't want dinner, then?" She called after me.

I shut the hatch then curled up in my mean little half-eaten bed that her horse'd gotten to. _Even her horse puts me last._

_"Too busy with the shops,"_ she'd said. _"You're not good enough for me,"_ is what she'd meant.

Everything was still hot from the day. Jarrene had the padding off her wagon to sleep on; in the cool cellar, of course. But I wasn't about to ask her for anything, much less to lay by her, staring at my long abandoned shoe in fear of a vengeful spider re-emerging from my failed assassination attempt. Yet another nightmare I _definitely_ needed.

I fiddled and yanked my hair, eyes locked on the ceiling while our conversation swirled in a black haze. Every bounce from her curls as she stood there and lied about being a friend. _Is there anything that'd make her like me again?_ I turned over and forced sleep. A dark desire rose. _If I just had some secret power, like magic… Then I'd be important to her… And all those other people too… Or they'd fear me… It'd be our secret, our bond… Then she'd need me… I'd be special…_

_No. That'd just make it worse._

_Will any road I take change anything?_

_…_

My dreams were blank and I didn't go down at all during midnight. I woke with a shore of sweat on my face. I was ready to lie there until the heat flushed me out, but when Jarrene made noise getting ready below I jumped down the ladder. She had brass beads in her hair, and a spiral necklace on, but not the usual ingot tassels for her waist.

"Good morning," I said brightly.

"Oh, morning, Amsa," she replied with a brief glance.

"I was thinking, maybe I could help today - maybe run some errands for the shop - after the furnishers come? I said, still brightly.

She kept stiff. "I don't know, Amsa, I'm really busy and everything you could help with is done. I really have a lot to do, and… Maybe you'd be able to find a tutor today? Feck the delivery cogs?"

"Oh, I understand. Good luck then," I said. _And… I don't have time to babysit you…_

She finally gave a glancing nod and slight smile. As she made her way to the door she put a hand on the door-frame. "Amsa."

I froze.

She took a breath. "_I_ wanted to come with _you."_

…

_Then why aren't you here now?_

I waited a moment for her to clear the street before peering outside. The street of our little house was quiet. Most of the houses that lined the paved cobblestone were still empty, in wait for respectable people like us to start filling them. A skilled leather-worker and a hard-studied student of biology. No demon-copulating Magi folk in sight.

I took post on the steps, aware of the sun slowly emerging over the suffocating city walls. Thick sheets of distorted air began to dance off the rooftops. My sweat emulsified my hair and clothes into my skin no matter how I yanked at them. I'd a theory the sun never actually disappeared, that it lurked below the horizon like a vengeful faery before sadistically leaping over the mountains to punish everyone. I would've glared back at the damned thing if not for knowing it'd win.

_There has to be a way to make this right…_

_Some friendships weren't meant to be._

_We're both grown from the same village. We'd both been subject to the same cruelties. That should be bond enough._

Worse than the walls were the overarching mountains around the city choking the horizon, further dwarfed by the glowering alps to the northeast. Their peaks could be seen from any valley; ruthless towers that eclipsed the landscape, casting shadows for a thousand kilometres. _This whole place is like a coffin. A vile stuffy coffin boxed in by walls and mountains. If the warlocks hadn't done us the favour of ripping themselves apart our corpses would right at home._

I had to hold out my university pendant from singing my breasts. I twisted the chain so it'd spin.

_I'm stuck waiting for the migration company while you work on your business and have a laugh with your friends. It'd be fine just to get some eye contact. I don't even have clothes. We were supposed to get some together, a fresh start, like you said._

I glared up the road. _The migration company shouldn't need signatures. Just take responsibility if you break something._

_..._

_She lied._

_Please stop thinking about it…_

_She said she was going to the shop. There she was, talking, laughing, smiling…_

_No, I'm just jealous. Jealous I can't make friends like that. I've always_

_only studied people from afar… It's maddening._

_…_

_Why?_

_Why do I want to care?_

_Why did it hurt when I'd expected it?_

_Why did she lie?_

…

Surprisingly early, the furnishing company wagon came rolling down the road. They had a fake friendliness about the missed delivery the day before, and were somehow keen to take their time. I couldn't help unload fast enough. Once "Brother's Fine Furnishing" had finally gone I wandered aimlessly down the scalding cobblestones.

_Does she hate me?…_

_Maybe we need time apart after such a long journey. She's likely still mad at me for yelling at Cupcake. I know she's just a horse - but it was my bedding she ate! Then Jarrene's embossing tools were in my kidney the rest of the way._

_But she keeps getting more distant. She's home late, then she's in bed. Does she even need me around? She doesn't ever show it._

_It's not like we're close. We were just two bored kids playing with animals when we met. There's not much more to it. We only met in those woods for her falling out with her friends… She was the only person I'd met who didn't make me feel bad, or threaten to tell that I was there, when I shouldn't've been. Then again, we didn't even talk, except to the animals…_

My chest seized. I turned off the main streets and took a pass nearer the castle. Buildings stacked higher and passed overhead towards the central city. The wealth became evident in the ornate pillars and striped awnings. I rolled my eyes at them. _Why aren't those everywhere?_ I longed to knock on one of the doors carved with metallurgical symbols and hear stories from a rich artist or an old family tree. I wondered what conspired within those walls, and if all traces of Magi had truly gone.

_Jarrene… I shouldn't've even seen you there. I should've been out visiting that list of offices and houses, or public lectures. It's almost a betrayal I had time wandering around seeing you. I should've been waiting for the furnishing people - if I'd waited we would've had time together unpacking._

_But why can't you understand? I don't want to go looking for a scholar without fresh clothes? Or that the people who aren't laying in the street at night don't want another sweaty body in their house? It might be ridiculous but it's their tradition to invite a pupil for a night. And I've been waiting almost three days for the migration company, why can't she understand that?_

_…Maybe because it's not her complexion getting blotched._

_I'm so tired of thinking._

The buildings opened up to the old town centre: A dramatic circle of twirling bricks leading to a central embossed plate. Nearby was an old man with a straw hat that eclipsed the bench he sat on. I smirked. _Everyone ought have one of those._

A hint of smoke hung in the air while I approached the community board. _Great, another thing to waste water on…_ My eyes rolled before I squinted at the blaring white posters, all peppered with the usual: Coin offered for information on Magi and warlocks or the like, a new declaration of the Grand Jurisdiction Acts, a polite poster threatening jail for anyone swimming in the reservoir, what have you.

It was a fascinating subject. Bourg was built in dry plains surrounded by treacherous mountains, and when the Magi'd finished mining their stone from a quarry they'd turned it into a reservoir to leech groundwater. The Graffiens had been far smarter about it, building an aqueduct from a river in the mountains. Fresh water was allowed to flow freely into the city, with excess going to the reservoir. As well, a giant windmill was built with troughs to haul water up. The thought of the juices people'd left going for a quick swim was a shuddering thought.

The giant castle was in view nearby. It was lain in massive dark stone blocks that gave an intimidating stance over the surroundings, lined with even less yielding battlements. It left time itself to wonder with the shine in it's stone. The gardens beneath it were supposed to be the envy of the world. Before everything happened I'd been dying to see them. I wandered towards it hoping to feel that desire again.

In front of the garden's entrance was a crowd of people who aimlessly shifted like dazed bees. I pushed through, gagging on smoke, bodily fluid, and dying foliage. _Of course it would be the gardens burning, another thing someone's decided to ruin today…_ Lawmen encircling the entrance were talking and repelling the crowd, all of their faces long for bed.

Closer in, I noticed they weren't lawmen but the forest-green Garda, complete with silver strings, brass buttons, and black trimmed epaulettes. The only missing thing being their round caps. They were the ones who usually investigated capital offences like murder, corruption, or using magic. _They must be bored to be investigating a fire… Unless someone robbed the castle?…_ My eyebrow arched as I leaned to see past them, as if to look for a criminal being pulled from the hedges. There were only whispers of colour in the curled plants. It seemed the king couldn't justify priotizing his gardens over his people. It _almost_ wasn't a shame. _Almost._

A Garda caught me in a withering gaze. I intended a response of confidence, but only managed: "Oi, um… I was just wanting to see the gardens?"

His eyes rolled _hard._ "Gardens are closed. There's been a fire- can't you smell the smoke?" he said, his flustered red cheeks aimed at the crowd. His head shook and he turned to another Garda, "Arton, get the lawmen down here and post a notice. And get these people away! Tell them we'll start issuing arrests! That goes for you as well _girly!"_ He glowered down at me. His man began shouting to direct the crowd.

For an idiotic moment my lips hung open to retort. That failing, I gave him a bitchy look and turned to shoulder my way through the dispersing crowd, with a purposeful rib-shove to the pushy ones.

"Your stupid garden's probably roots now anyways, isn't it?" I muttered, then shouted, "It's a favour your breath's too high to smell, oaf!" at a random man, who stopped in puzzlement.

"Cadeh?" he said.

"Nothing," I huffed, dashing from the embarrassment on my heel.

Once away I could breathe again. The heat felt less a suffocating blanket and more of a piercing beam, like the city was an ant hill under a looking glass. Even the alleyways felt barren and exposed. The memory kept trying to come back. It stung like I'd kicked a fire-beetle nest.

_Why even try to apologise?_

My hair rubbed _everywhere._ My ears, eyes, neck, shoulders, breasts. Anything in range. I bunched it over my head and fantasised knifing it to shaggy bits, damn other's judgements. The feeling flared down, and I let the strands dropped one by one along my shoulders.

A butterfly flitted past my cheek and dropped onto a flower that'd bravely crawled through the bricks, only to be scorched mercilessly. _Aperilis, the Lying Flower. A weed._ It came from a long time ago when flowers mixing into the biosphere had fought for nutrients in the soil. The Aperilis found it could steal pollinators from other flowers by imitating them. The butterfly's wings had an intricate golden pattern, with splattered silver along it's edges. A piece of it's wing was torn, yet it still managed to fly.

I sat over them cross-legged, running my fingers along the weed's petals. It was funny to think humans bleeding into the ground had fed the flowers underfoot for their own sort of war. As a child, never a day went by without talk of post-treaty skirmishes, or arson, or a child being carried off by a mutated animal. It was like the two armies held pikes over each other's necks, just waiting for the other to flinch. Their clashes always showering sparks that set the rest of us on fire…

She'd lied.

My chest seized after a sharp breath. I couldn't bear to think about it. To collect my thoughts around it. Then it was like being there again. The light was made harsher in my memories. The sneers from the other students flashed through the memory.

_She was just out running a quick errand and customers were desperate for her services… Ha, yeah, right…_

_Even if it was a company meeting, why stand out in the sun so far from her shop? She'd be risking her perfect complexion doing that all day…_

I pulled my hair off my neck. I didn't need her anyways.

_Why'd she even want to move here with me?_

_I'd wanted this to work so badly…_

_Why did I waste time wanting a friend?_

_Is there some sort of flaw? Something in me that means I'll always be alone?_

…

_Flowers._

I'd get her flowers. I'd stop by with a quick exit and just to prove I'm leaving her alone. I'd just get them from the bazaar, drop them off, then give us some distance. I wouldn't even stay if she asked for help… _Well, maybe then. Maybe._ I sighed with relief and started with an anxious step down the road.

III

The air near the market filled with fresh bread, roasting meats, sweet spices, animals, and half-hearted haggling. It all came into focus as the alley broke open to a stream of people. I hung back a moment, wondering how exactly they were sane being so packed, heat or not. It was a phoney's heaven and hard not to be tempted at practising myself. I focused on the more pleasant smells, and stepped into the vein.

Bourg was the only real city for hundreds of kilometres, so the market was filled with imports of spices, special woods, itchy cloth, air-scenting, and oddly shaped dishes. Vendors were shouting desperately atop barrels and crates, including one lunic woman who'd somehow gotten a carriage in there. I stopped in awe long enough to catch part of her blather.

"Aneletic! Completely numbs you a whole day! You heard right! One entire day of shrugging off all worries! Not considered an elixir under the Grand Jurisdiction Acts! Investments to the side! Now in the tropical flavour kasavi! You sir…!"

It was amazing anyone could stand around listening to this woman's antics. While pushing away a man came and shoved a pot of the stuff in my hand. "Don't walk without trying! Absolutely free!" he said, before carrying on to others. I rolled my eyes and ditched it in a bin before striding off. As if it wasn't tropical enough. What a rip off. Where are the respectable merchants in this city?_

I moved perfectly through the crowd, slipping in and out of flows, avoiding every desperate haggler on the way. Each person was completely predictable. I kept an ear reserved for word on the fire at the castle, but no one seemed to know anything.

Bourg was the perfect place to blend in. They didn't care who you looked. Hell, they didn't even take effort to try and force a personality on you. It was all status, nothing I worried about. Every shape of face could be found, as well as any colour of hair, eyes, skin, or "filthy" voice. The best part was no one cared what meaningless dirt a person's roots were ripped from - Assuming they weren't Magi. I didn't have to be the salt of any region or reduced to a limerick; and there was something freeing about that.

Owing exception, of course, to the loud Temptian idiots blocking my path.

"Honestly prefer them to the Llowyners- I do! Once met a nice gal who stayed there a squint after her husband died while having the misfortune to be bearing a boy. Ate their bread, drank their water, and subjected it to their bastard tongue in the womb. Turned him into a facking Llowyn bastard. Something in the soil messed the lad up, acted out in all sorts of ways. Fortunate thing his da wasn't Llowyn or he'd of been really far gone. I heard it's 'cause they don't fallow their fields right out there…"

I rolled my eyes and pushed past them, only to be stopped by more people pushing to join the pissing contest, including one stubborn Stereon woman. _How are they willing to stand perfectly still and debate this?_ A scream _itched_ to escape my throat as I shouldered past. Trying to understand people claiming superiority based on dirt hurt my head. It wasn't how people were supposed to act after the sacrifices endured for unification.

In front of me spiting those idiots stood the Grand Bazaar, adorned with banners from every court in every country that'd ever visited, including some that no longer existed. The building survived multiple wars and still had traces of beauty showing behind the cracked stone and chipped paint. A windmill rose over it's roof attempting to amber a giant fan inside, but to my lament the inside was breathless. The scent was an intense mix of the outside market with the addition of hot wood and leather and other strange things.

Rumour told an artist'd been hired to repaint it, but there wasn't sight of it yet. The shops stocked impressive fabrics, weird air-scent-sticks, luxurious things of wood, some modest leather goods, wines, and even some beautifully bound books.

Most people this far into the market wore fine dress and took their time haggling. A crowd surrounded a foreigner wearing a thread-like headdress of gold who was phoneying a card-table. Some of me wanted to watch, but watching led to participation. _I wonder if they've one of those ridiculous straw hats… No. I'm here for flowers. Not a blink of attention to any else._

Surprisingly there was someone selling decently flush flowers in painted pots. I deadened my eyes from the first step into the alcove, and cast stone glances with moments of feigned interest on the prettiest flowers. The crisp floral smell left wonder to if they'd been enchanted; I'd heard before that wizards could grow flowers that lasted for weeks, and a dark desire in me always wondered how that could've worked.

After a bit of haggling I left with a vase painted with a small rabbit, full of colourful flowers. The vase alone would've cost less of course, but my friend was worth it.

_What if the flowers mean something they shouldn't?_

_No, neither of us pay mind to that sort of thing. Anyways, if I turned to ask they'll lie and sell me different ones._

I left the bazaar in an ugly hunch over the flowers until making it where the streets became crooked and restricted enough to cast shade. A wave of excitement rose in me; these were the settled shops. This district held exceptional reputation for goods with only two kinds of customers: The wealthy, and those with trade livelihoods - usually servicing the wealthy. Large pots and utensils for chefs, guns and traps for hunters, endless types of measuring tools for naturalist scribes… Gear of the trades.

But even more interesting was the innovation of everything imaginable. New metallurgy techniques, harder metals, sharper tools, and even a rumour they'd replicated some of the principles Magi used creating the train to the south. These were the people who created the Stereon Sovereign Unit of measurement used even in Temptia and the lowlands. This was a delicate strip in a kingdom's mind that birthed technology. A small pond in an ocean of otherwise occupied souls where the flames of peaceful creativity sparked and fumed, _without_ demonic possession and grisly ritual sacrifice.

I was almost jealous of Jarrene being around it every day, watching the stores slowly revived, bringing something new each passing day. I coveted the chance to explore every bend of the way.

_But first, Jarrene._

I glanced down and felt the flowers add a stride to my growing excitement. I was happy to finally see where Jarrene worked, and explore the settled shops. _I might even meet a scholar buying quills or something…_

A few shops on every block were dishevelled boxes of old wood and broken windows, covered in partial notices of being closed under the authority of the Grand Jurisdiction Acts. I wondered idly what traces of magic the Magi'd left behind, hidden under the floorboards. Maybe even skeletons wrapped up and shoved in nooks. Or wild inventions that were revolutionary. _Nothing we haven't come up with._

I sighed. With all certainty every trace'd been sought out and seized by diviners, but it was still fun imagining. In hard truth, the Magi had brought some innovation at their height, but all that'd come from that was more war.

As if reading my mind, a kindly old man with a typical Varkathan accent shoved something in my hand about the Magi and his religion. He tried pulling me into conversation but I brushed him off, glancing at the flier before crumpling it and tossing it away. _Faithless heretics, blah blah._ Religion and it's nuts had a special talent of frustrating me to the point of fainting. Who needed Varkathan scripture, anyways? The image of torture and human experimentation was something remembered daily without the posted reminders, or oft ignored mangled veterans limping by. It felt rude not looking them in the eye, but imagining their suffering was too much for most.

Most orphans felt the same as me, even for the god Stereos. There were only so many prayers you could say before the hope faded and your tongue weakened. Asking for your family to be alive. Or to be adopted soon. That a faerie would appear with new clothes and coin… Even that there'd be enough food on the next wagon for not sleeping hungry. It was maddening when they'd preach about Me'alinas, the goddess of orphans, and how her touch would be felt in the embrace of family. We were all forced to nod and pray, yet somehow her touch didn't seem to extend to _any_ of us at the tachragens.

Two civil wars. And what were we left with? No parents, no way out, and a shite-pile of false hope.

_Even still… Through all that, Jarrene and I found some sort of comradery._

I felt keen excitement noticing the sign for Jarrene's street. _I'm going to just drop off the flowers, casually reassert myself as her friend, and let her get back to work._ I began picturing her smile when handing them to her. _"Amsa, how'd you find flowers that fresh?" "I have my ways,"_ I'd say with a sly smile, knowing everything would be alright again. Then I'd be home unpacking - not too much, I still wanted to unpack together.

It'd take away some of her stress, too. She worked hard enough to pull at least half the market's clientele. And when she went on her hunting trips she exhausted herself finding the rarest and most exotic animals, ones people spent years searching for. She always brought back their pelts in perfect condition too, not even an arrow hole in them.

_It's probably that the best leather workers are staying away, out of the city, and the people with Jarrene were customers desperate for her to make something. Or it was a silly guild custom… Her getting into a guild less than a week here…_

I didn't understand where the thought she was a bad friend came from. She'd helped me so much, with making parchment for the personal essay, then helped in writing it. Her and Cupcake took me to the exam town. Of course, she was blowing the market's ceiling off while we were there. Without her I wouldn't've gotten this university endowment. It was her being there that made me test well. And now that she brought me here I'd get to study under a master scholar.

I'd even have her to thank for the chance to become an advisor for the king, my luck willing. Though, I'd rather a chance to work with some of the authors I'd read from. To ask more details on carnivorous plants, or become assistant documenting rare animals. Being the first human to hear the call of an exotic creature sounded more thrilling than managing deadlines and paperwork.

And she never betrayed to anyone what I'd done to study. I still fondly rubbed the marks on my wrist, reminding me of how I'd gotten the books.

Luck had stacked the deck with a bitter, but scholarly old man some way out of my village, whose library was loaded with more books than he'd had rights to. I tried asking, at first. But he only told me: _"Girls lack the bellows that make the mind expand."_ That answer didn't suit me too well, so I crawled through bristle and thorns to his window where I pried it open while he went out or slept. I could still feel the ambered tremble in my hands as I slid the metal bar between the panes and against the latch.

It went on like that, until the day he caught me. A huge volume was sprawled over my legs like a giant weight trapping me. His face was absolutely boiling, right up to the moment he burst out laughing. _"Well, if that's the way it'll be,"_ he said, _"I guess nothing'll stop you."_ It felt another stroke of luck, but truthfully it was a perk of being a child, and an orphan. At that age most find rule breaking _cute._ From then on a visit only cost choking down a dry biscuit and listening to whatever tales he had for a bit before getting to the books. But that was only his toll.

He insisted I only come when allowed, which encouraged me wearing gloves over the growing lashes from my "caretaker", I of course explained as being "to take care of the books." Sometimes when I'd trouble getting through a book I fecked some food from a merchant and camped nearby for days, up all night thinking about the next page. Every time my caretaker caught me missing for those days, or gaining tears on clothes, my hand gained three lashes. She could've broken my fingers and I would've went on to turn every page with my nose.

By the time she began drawing blood I was almost done with his entire library. Jarrene was there the entire time of course, sneaking me bandages. And in the end it wasn't for nothing; Walking into the exam room was the most thrilling and strange experience of my life. The dust dancing in the lazy afternoon light next to the windowsill was something ethereal, like seeing my own story coming to life. The exam supervisor was glowing with a halo of light, almost as though a heavenly spirit. My fingers shook almost too much to hold a pen, but I found rubbing my lashes soothed the shakes.

Anything can be accomplished with a tolerance to pain.

Her shop sat just at the bent end of a street. The front still wasn't polished, and she'd yet to pick a name for her sign. Last she'd considered was "J.E. Full-Grain Specialities". I tried the handle, but it didn't turn. I backed up a moment to look around, wondering if I'd gotten lost, but then the key on my belt opened the lock.

"Oi? Jarrene?'' I called, slowly pushing the door open. "Oi, I know you're busy, but I just wanted to drop something off. I'll be gone in a moment."

I couldn't hide a smile as I stepped in and looked around. The walls were half-filled, displaying her best work. Flowery pouches, animals emblazoned on sheaths, handles for tools, and a few pairs of sturdy shoes. She always wanted her best to be _used._ A saddle sat in the middle of the room, and though unfinished it was obviously one of the finest in the kingdom. Next to the back door was a desk filled with papers, and the rest of the floor was covered with boxes waiting to be unpacked. It was all there. The only thing missing was Jarrene.

Tears welled and distress tore at me. The vase spitefully slipped through my fingers and shatter on the floor, leaving evidence of my bitterness. _She lied. Again._ I didn't know quite what to feel. I shut the door, feeling my grip on the handle; the only thing that felt solid.

_Why?_

I choked.

_What do I do now?_

My hand trembled over my key, wanting to leave it in the door out of spite. I wanted her to admit she hated me. I wanted her to hate me. I wanted her to scream so I could. I might've been being dramatic, but she was the lying bitch. I wanted her to admit I wasn't good enough for her. A brief flash of worry overtook me, until I remembered the time three boys had cornered her. Two limped away, one crawled. I didn't know whether to feel bad that worrying wasn't my first reaction.

I breathed, turned the key, and marched away over the cracked cobblestone. I made sure to be a few lanes over in case she decided to make a situation worse by appearing suddenly. My body pitifully dropped onto the curb, my fingers fiddling with my hair and tears flowing evenly. My mind daydreamed a handsome stranger or another girl coming along to ask what was wrong. To sit and listen.

Someone.

_Anyone._

IV (4)

No stranger bothered appearing by the time my tears dried, leaving me to stare apathetically at a rusting lamp post. It was expected, after all, but deep down couldn't help grasping at a pathetic hope it'd be different with her. Desperation squeezed my chest, then a hot temper battling back.

_You always suspect it._

_I'm always right._

_I can't go home. There isn't one now._

_I barely made it through the exam. I haven't what it takes for university._

_…_

_If I found some magic here…_

_Maybe I can find something to numb everything. Spirits wouldn't do it. Maybe that lunic woman still has that kasavi brew…_

With a deep sigh I got up, hoping to reignite some amber by visiting some shops. _If I run into her, so be it._ The street was different. Before Bourg had seemed so inviting and full of excitement, but now every door seemed shut and every building without welcome. Stranger's faces were dead as I passed, no longer full of stories. _I can't stay now, can I?_

The first store sold inflected mirrors. I hid from every reflection at first, but was curious if anything'd changed, and the warped image helped in hiding most of my imperfections anyways. _Where will I go?_ The sun had scarred my face with freckles, and left the tone uneven. _The opposite of Jarrene. Her tone is even over every squint of her body._ My bastard eyes still hadn't chosen a colour between green or brown. The journey'd taken it's toll, leaving them dark and sunken, and the black flaw in my right eye seemed to keep growing. _You can't keep running._

The next store left me wanting with a pocket-vane that included the whole deck: Humidity, wind speed and direction, temperature, atmosphere pressure, and solar radiation. _You could be completely wrong._ I pictured locating all the creatures that came out under a specific atmosphere. _And how often is it I'm wrong?_ But it was far too expensive, and I wouldn't leave the university to do research for some time, so I bit back my willpower and told myself it might be something for next semester. If there was one.

A mechanical novelty store had a bird that hopped around and pecked after being round. I'd spent my willpower on the pocket-vane and had to buy it. _She could have a reason for doing it. Maybe it's a surprise._

The next had intimidating sized guns locked in rows behind glass. Their metal was black and shimmered like the final breath of a corpse on a dark, frozen night. The pattern stamped along their barrels was a traditional Stereon weave-like pattern with cultural symbols at various points.

The man behind the sales table worked on a gun that seemed a disappointment, judging from the look on his sunken antimony face. The hair from his head to his chin was a mess. He glanced up and dropped a tool. None of the straps on his trousers were lined up right, causing a few tools to fall out when he bent over. _Or she could just need privacy. You don't exactly tell her everything either._

"Can I help you?" he asked, poking his head above the table, a bit defensively.

_It's never a surprise. That's never it._

"Oh, I was just curious about all this…" I said.

He straightened. "So you can run back across the street to the next man selling firearms? No way you're casually shopping, girly." His gaze narrowed on me.

"That wasn't why I came in…" _Listen feckhead, if that's the way you treat every customer…_ I had to back away from the swinging door as a man approached the table at pace.

"Begging your pardon, I'll be gone quick. Would you have a revolver for sale? Me and the da are looking at a hunting trip and there's all sorts of lurkers," he said.

The shopkeeper cast a hard glance at me, that I returned spitefully, then moved to unlock a case and inspect a pistol before he handed it to the man. "This should be enough to scare the needles off a leif. You aware of it's works?"

"Fine, fine work… Don't you worry, been around guns my entire life. Believe in them do ya?" said the man.

"Not for certain, but that's not to say a tree wouldn't fell itself on you out of spite anyway. Only a box?" the shopkeeper placed ammunition on the table.

The man laughed. "Aye, no need for more this trip."

"Can't ever know, they may start a war with us yet," the shopkeeper said while writing out a bill. The man laughed, slightly more hollow, while shelling out parcels. _Help him._ He then nodded to the shopkeeper's thanks and left. _Cadeh?_

The shopkeeper looked down at his project, the glow of the interaction fading from his face. "You still here?" he grunted at me.

I conceded this wasn't the store to window browse, so I simply replied, "Try not to eye my arse," and walked out.

I found another curb to fallow on close by, where I say lazily nudging the mechanical bird as it pecked and hopped. I watched it drop off the curb onto it's side and clatter around. _Just another waste of money. What'll I even do with it? Not even Jarrene'll want it…_ My amber had gone.

It's metal was similar quality to that in the gun store, though a duller grey. It was something I'd rarely seen until visiting these shops, and something like Bourg seemed lacking of: The Stereon steel bragged the world over. Cold metal that defined unrelenting determination. A material so written into the regional mind it made foreigners shy away at the mention of _Stereos._

It entered my mind what hell it must have been working in smitheries, foundries, smelters, and what have you. It was hard to imagine going outside for water, unable to escape heat. Jarrene and I'd even planned to put a lean-to on the side of our oven for a small smithery, where she would make leather-working gear while I tried the cultural vocation. It was the only piece of Stereos I felt connected with. _How much longer will that plan live?_

A child ran by, nearly crushing my bird. His mother was chasing after him, laughing. My eyes rolled. I wanted to shout after her to drop the facade that she actually liked the child.

I breathed deep, and sighed.

_No. I accept that family exists, and that it just doesn't exist for me._

_…_

_If I had magic she wouldn't treat me this way._

I regretted the thought instantly, ridding it with a hard swallow. My head turned from my body in disgust.

_No one would suspect you of stealing if you were buying, right?_ I wondered where the thought'd come from, yet found no argument against it. _How many people would suspect someone with honest coin of dishonest intentions?_

I decided to give it a try, if only to prove I could. My day was going about as well as a dead sparrow trying to navigate baking a pie, it couldn't get much worse.

Before I could enter a store pretending to browse something made me feel wary. _Guilt? Fear?_ I looked around, and the feeling vanished on spotting my mark. He wore finely crafted chains and metallic lining on silk clothes, and his wares were of regal clock faces with no price marks.

I made sure my university pendant was out and stepped in. The clocks ticked within a moment of each other. _Only a garney would have time to synchronise clocks._ Some had calendars able to count to a certain date. One's face was a half-moon over a mountain scene, where the night slowly crept after the sun. Another was a flat glove decorated in a foreign language, tilting with the change of season to show hours lessening each day.

My amazement almost distracted me. _Focus._ The shopkeeper's ashen, wrinkled face unfolded a smile full of crooked teeth, of which a few were gold. Before I could do anything a man, the one who bought the pistol, was nearby looking at a pocket watch. I'd only then realised he was wearing a hide coat, and stopped for a moment of confusion. It had a colourful ribbon tied to the back. _Cadeh?_ I wanted to rudely assault hide-coat man with prying questions about why the hell someone'd be wearing _hide coat._

_Don't abandon the plan._

I breathed and sauntered past the clocks, turning my attention to the most amazing one in the store. It was a huge painted globe of the world, it's spinning indicated by slow movement against a little arrow painted as the sun. It didn't even have a price, but must've been worth over a hundred parcels. I couldn't be asking, of course, he'd know I didn't have coin.

"It also tilts with the seasons, to keep accurate time," the shopkeeper said, breaking my spell.

"Excellent." I smiled to him.

He smiled and turned to talk to the other man, who'd chosen a pocket-watch. With him distracted I quickly pocketed a wrist-watch, then immediately a trinket to hold. I pretended studying it, running my thumb over it while they exchanged. Once they'd finished I took to the sales table.

"Ah… That is the symbol for time in ancient Stereon," the shopkeeper said.\

I nodded. "Both limited and unlimited time. It's lovely around me, what do you reckon?" I smiled brightly and held it to my neck, not flinching despite a pounding heart.

"Very nice indeed." He returned a toothy smile.

"How much?" I put it on the counting-table then reached for my purse.

"For you? Eight pennies," he said. I counted them out while he continued, "A nice colleen like you… Doesn't happen often you hooligans come in here for just a trinket…" _A question without asking, how childish…_

"Not too often you get to see wondrous machines, is it? You had something I liked, and I went for it. Wouldn't you do the same?" My heart skipped in excitement; he wouldn't know what I meant until I was long gone.

"I might not have at your age...then, it's always a treat seeing your generation full of respect for the wonders of our era." He nodded while displaying his full range of crooked teeth, emanating _creepy._

_He's so proud of his little shop. Destroy it._

_No._

I brimmed with pride, latching the necklace behind my neck and turning heel. On my brisk exist, something must've caught my clothes and tipped, crashing next to the ground. My stomach _seized_ as gears and screws scattered across the floor while an angry shopkeeper snatched my arm. _You stupid… idiot! That was at least my entire semester's grant._

Someone's hand wrenched away the shopkeeper's grasp. Hide-coat man hadn't left yet.

"That mash of bolts seemed rightly positioned for someone to _accidentally_ knock it over, if I'm right," he said, staring down the shopkeeper.

"What are you accusing you phoney?" the shopkeeper said.

Hide-coat stepped forward. "Tell you what, wise up what it did before it _conveniently_ hit the floor, I'll pay it's jacked up price myself."

Clock-man stammered.

"Thought so," said handsome-coat, encouraging clock-man's rage.

"T-told time!"

"Everything in this shop is a _clock,_ you _dunk-shite._ But what you seem proud of is each's unique qualities. So then I wonder why it is you can't seem to recall what was so unique about this one? Right, I'll pay for the time it'll take to shamble it together for the next unsuspecting customer along." He flipped a parcel into the air, which hit the counting-table spinning before shuddering flat. "How dare you try to take advantage of a nice girl like this," he finished, then turned out the door.

The shopkeeper said nothing, only looking on with pure spite.

"How dare you try taking advantage of a nice girl like me!" I huffed at clock-creep, turning on heel to leave. Once out I accidentally knocked into him.

"I swear I didn't-"

He placed a finger to his lips and nodded, smiling down to me. There was only a slight paleness around his lips and sunken eyes to offset the perfectly flat-dark tone of his stunning face. It took a moment gazing into his nearly black irises to notice his pupils were shrunk to near-nothing. _Stimulants?_ The look on his eyes had a pure solemness, as if he'd just accepted a tragedy into his heart. My instinct was to ask, but how do you bring up something someone hasn't trusted you with?

He brushed wisps of neatly cut hair from his face as he spoke. "You really ought to be careful. Often it's the ones you think most trustworthy that turn out phoneys." He winked at me and waved the wristwatch. "And… I think I'll keep this." He raised it high from my grasping hand. "Looks rather nice on me, do you reckon?" He laughed before striding off down a shrinking street. Curiosity ambered my stomach. My legs woke and I dashed in pursuit, finding a step of his worth two of mine.

He turned a moment, "Don't want it?" then turned a corner.

An indignant smile formed on my lips as I hopped over crates and skirted barrels. Stranger's faces whipped past, shocked and confused faces at the large, swift man chased by a much smaller woman. I accidentally knocked over a stand exiting a corner, leaving kernels and their owner raging after me. He shot around the only other lady on the street into an alley and disappeared again, forcing me to shove her aside.

I was rushing down an alley that starred into multiple narrow branches. Glancing down each one, I heaved a breath and shouted, "Are you going to tell me what's with-" Something slammed into me from the side, sending me off into a stack of crates that toppled over, startling a nearby dog.

"Oooh… oh…" I moaned _pathetically_ while gathering myself.

Through the stirring dust a man jumped up. A gleam of hope was dashed as I saw two unfamiliar impish eyes dart around the mayhem, landing on mine and scrunching. Something flashed on his face, a look I'd felt on my own face but never'd seen before, but it was hard to make out in the dust. He came to offer a hand, eyes locked intensely.

As I accepted the lift his eyes briefly caught light, making an almost brilliant amber, before turning to rust as I got to my feet. His face was a patch-brazen antler with an interesting pattern of freckles, and suggested an age only a few years older than me, but with a hardness I couldn't quite place. He had dirty-brown ragged hair, a tattered and dark-green toggled tunic, and tangled strap-bottoms. But, and most importantly at that, he wasn't _near_ handsome enough a replacement for the other one.

"You idiot!" I shouted, trying to yank back my hand to slap him.

His eyes flickered, still locked.

I kept on, "Do you realise what you've _done_ you lamentable bog-squatter? You've-"

"Come," he said, his grip tightening. Before I could object he pulled me with near enough force to dislodge my shoulder.

As the brick walls flew past there were voices behind us. Lightening burned away my mental haze. We jumped over a set of crates and alley trash. Sounds of it being kicked and snapped followed shortly. I slowed him a moment to adjust, before we were gliding around a corner into the market. We lurched through the crowd, the boy expertly tossing people to either side. One unfortunate man caused a row of people to fall. A smile formed on my lips until my nose smacked the back of his head as he skidded to a halt.

"What?" I gasped, clutching my nose.

He looked down at me with utter childlike sincerity, mouth half full, and said, "Gapoes!"

This clarified two things for me: He was insane, and I was _absolutely_ fecked.

A moment later he'd tossed two gapoes at the apparent _Garda_ chasing us, which promptly exploded in their faces. They collapsed to their knees fuming and clutching their eyes. He yanked my arm, to which I protested, but we were already on our way through the crowd again, an angry merchant shouting behind us.

We jumped in almost perfect beat over a crate blocking an alley and around another sharp turn. I'd just picked up the pace when he pulled me into a corner with a hand over my mouth. My heart thundered while two men ran past.

He lifted a hand to pull a gapoe from his mouth. "Have a moment to chat?" he asked.

"At this moment? Not in particular," I exhaled.

"Later then." He placed the gapoe back in his mouth and pulled me out of the corner, down another alley. There was silence for a few passages, then shouts and footsteps made their way towards us. We darted down a narrow alley into a dead end. Something yanked me and light shot across my vision.