15. Night farewells over some muffins

For the next few days, I felt more useless than a squirrel searching an empty log for an acorn. I searched for Swift, in vain; I searched for Slaryn, in vain; I spied on the house of my comrades and learned nothing; and in the end, I circled around like a nakrus looking for a bone to absorb, and found only scraps. I had no more success with the Supreme Magician and the diamond. On the second day, I only managed to enter the room to find that there was no diamond there. So I made casts of the other private door locks and slipped into places that were probably closed for a reason: I saw an alchemy laboratory full of flasks, a room full of weapons, and a desk with so many magaras that, saturated with energy from all sides, I felt ill all afternoon and feared I had been hit by some evil spell. Fortunately, the next day, I was already fully recovered. Since I was going from failure to failure, I also made a copy of the key to the Conservatory’s kitchen. I didn’t tell Rolg, of course: supposedly, all these copies of keys were to contribute to my work, but, uh… well, a thief with a full belly always worked with more zest, didn’t he?

There was only one day left before school ended, when I finally came across the right door. I had just delivered a message to Lesabeth, to which the blonde elf, for the first time since I knew her, gave a quick answer. She wrote in Owram, the learned language, so I couldn’t read it; however, from her expression, I guessed that she wasn’t sending the Nail-pincher to go chase the clouds, but quite the opposite.

With the message safely in my pocket, I began my trek through the corridors. I had two hours to try three keys. The first was to a brulic laboratory. I went in, opened the drawers, rummaged around, and came out as silent as a shadow. The second key was to an office in a tower, and the room was empty. It was not hard for me to see why: there was a noxious energy floating in the room. I walked away from there without looking around and almost forgot to reactivate the magic locking mechanism in addition to turning the key. How many places in the Conservatory had been sealed off after an experiment gone wrong? Obviously more than one.

The third key led me to the living quarters of a retired professor who was a friend of the Supreme Magician. I had seen him several times talking with her, and I thought: well, why not try this way? And I had made a cast of the key. After making sure that the corridor was empty, I entered the room, locked myself in, and… I discovered that the professor was there, sleeping in his bed.

For a few seconds, I did not move an inch. Then I listened to his breathing and said to myself, Bah, he looks sound asleep. So, casting the most sophisticated silence spells I had ever performed, I slid the drawers of his desk open. I saw nothing more or less than three gold coins in one of them. I took them with a cautious glance at the old Professor. He was still sleeping.

And then my eyes fell on an object lying on the nightstand, right next to the bed. A transparent object. I approached it, my eyes wide. Were my eyes deceiving me, or did this look very much like a diamond? I reached out with my right hand and took it. I smiled as I felt the energy vibrating inside. I looked at the pattern and couldn’t make out anything. It was too complex. I counted the facets. Sixteen. I counted them again, since I couldn’t believe it, and when I counted sixteen again, my smile widened. At last.

A sudden snore made me pale like death. Hastily, I put the diamond in my pocket, along with the three stolen siatos, and stepped back without losing sight of the Professor. I cast a silence spell to open the door as quietly as I could, locked it and activated the alarm. As if a ghost had been there, I thought.

I walked away, and in the adjoining corridor, I met the white cat. I stroked it as I passed and began to sing:

Yeyeyeyeh eh eh eh!

Oh cat, cat with no colooor!

With no colooor,

running through the darkmans on his ghosty feet,

a gwak cat walks down my street.

Yeyeyeyeh, eh, eh, eh!

The gwak cat goes singing

while the twinkling moon guides his paws.

He got lost!

Oh, no!

Where’s the cat?

Where’s the cat?

The cat scurries and chases a white light.

And he got lost!

Oh, no!

Where did the cat go?

Where did the cat go?

As I sang, I walked down the corridors, turning corners, towards the classroom where Miroki Fal was studying diserrance. According to what he had once explained to me, diserrance was the art of oric forces. Thanks to them, he was able to levitate; however, when I said to him “let me see, sir, let me see!”, he refused to show me. He said that oric energy was dangerous and very powerful, and he also said that the great experts knew how to make real monoliths which could transport you from one place to another almost instantly. I remembered that my master once told me of a reckless nakrus who had to cross an entire mountain range to retrieve one of his arms after losing it along the way. A horror. Fortunately, people capable of such madness were rare.

I waited patiently for Miroki to come out of the classroom, and when I saw him appear, I noticed that he had deep dark circles around his eyes. I had been so focused on stealing the diamond that I had hardly paid any attention to the Nail-pincher in the last few days… And to tell the truth, he had been looking a bit strange lately, as if he was discouraged; so, determined to change that, I hurriedly took out the answer from Lesabeth and handed it to him.

“It’s from Miss Lesabeth, sir,” I said cheerfully.

To my surprise a melancholy glint passed into Miroki Fal’s eyes as he read the note. Shudi, the painter, read over his shoulder and gasped.

“To the theater? Spirits! That’s better than a ball, Mir! Rejoice! What’s wrong with you?”

Miroki did not answer. Slowly he put the message in his pocket and went down the stairs. Shudi went after him, and putting the Nail-pincher’s bag on my shoulders, I followed them. As we left the Conservatory, Shudi said:

“Will you tell me once and for all what’s going on with you? Lately you’ve been acting weird.”

Miroki Fal sighed heavily.

“It’s my father. He wants to ruin my life and force me to marry Amelaida Arym.”

Shudi choked on his saliva.

“Mothers of the Light… Who?”

“The daughter of the governor of Taabia!” Miroki exclaimed. He hit himself on the forehead. “For him, marriage is a matter of politics. He hasn’t the slightest idea of what love is. He’s a heartless person. The only thing he cares about is power! Can you imagine, Shudi? My life ruined. Lesabeth is my life. Don’t you understand that?”

“Uh…yes, I do,” Shudi sighed. “I understand.” He sighed again and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Mir. Don’t be discouraged. Lesabeth is the daughter of the Satrepas. She’s not from a bad family. Maybe—”

“No,” Miroki cut him off with a dull growl. And he stopped dead in the middle of the park that surrounded the Conservatory. “Listen, Shudi. I sent a magigram to my father asking his permission to marry Lesabeth.”

“What?” Shudi coughed. “But you didn’t even ask her yet!”

Miroki smiled faintly.

“I did. I… I met her at… um… at the Hippodrome, last Sacredday. We walked together in Kamir Wood, and… I asked for her hand, and she said yes. It was wonderful.”

His face saddened, and he shook his head.

“But my father answered me the day before yesterday. And I still haven’t absorbed what he said in his letter. Anyway, Shudi. Forget about it. This is a family matter. It’s not worth your while to worry about it.”

His friend glanced at him uneasily as they resumed walking, and after a silence, he said:

“Talk to him when you go to Griada. I’m sure if you talk to him face to face—”

“Let’s leave it at that, Shudi,” Miroki interrupted him, exhaling. “Let’s leave it at that.”

The painter did not insist, they parted at a crossroads, and I followed the Nail-pincher to the red house without saying a word. I was puzzled by this marriage business. So, when we entered, I asked:

“And why don’t you just marry Lesabeth? Wouldn’t it be simpler?”

Miroki Fal looked at me as if he were looking through a ghost, and without breaking his absorbed face, he took out the message from Lesabeth, heaved a heart-rending sigh and climbed the stairs. Who could understand the nail-pinchers! I put down the bag, and before Rux could say anything to me, I was gone like the wind. I took for granted that, if I didn’t eat there, no one could tell me that I wasn’t doing my duty.

I ran through the wide streets of the Harp without removing my hand from my pocket and the diamond. On the way, I passed three police cavalrymen who were riding towards the Conservatory at high speed. They already know, I concluded.

I forced myself not to quicken my pace and repeated to myself one of Yal’s lessons: act natural, act natural… My tension diminished as I reached Atuerzo and vanished as I reached the Cats. I saw Fiks, from afar, in the Grey Square, and I greeted him with a:

“Ayo, Fiks!”

The old workman, who was chatting with some friends, turned his head as I was already leaving the square. I went on down to the Den, and… I noticed that someone was following me. I stopped dead in front of the small courtyard of Rolg’s house, turned my head, and opened my eyes wide.

“Good mother!” I exclaimed.

It was Adoya, the Ojisary, and he had one of his dogs with him, who, if he had not been tied with a leash, would have lunged at me. I heard a sharp bark and reacted as quickly as a squirrel: I ran into the courtyard, opened the door, and closed it again in a cold sweat. I blocked it with the bar and closed the curtains completely, then…

“Sari?”

I screamed, jumped up, and turned around. Yal was sitting on his pallet, sewing up his shirt. Well, he was half up at that moment. He went to the window, and I said:

“No, don’t!”

The dog’s barking could still be heard outside. Yal drew aside the curtains and frowned.

“Who is that guy?”

The barking was now fading. I stammered:

“Dunno. His dog wanted to throw itself at me.”

I didn’t tell him the truth because… well, if I told him the whole truth, I’d have to admit that I’d entered the Labyrinth without taking his advice. The barking could no longer be heard. I breathed a sigh of relief, retrieved the chair by the door and sat down before I noticed something strange. What was Yal doing in the Den at this hour?

“Not working today?” I asked.

Yal grunted, stepping away from the window.

“That guy looked really suspicious. If you see him again, move to another sidewalk.”

“Yes, yes, and to another street, don’t worry, but what about the print shop?”

Yal sat back on his pallet with a grimace.

“I fired myself. The boss kept asking us to work overtime, and on top of that, he wanted to cut my pay. I sent him to go chase the clouds.”

I smiled.

“Well done!”

He rolled his eyes and added, more seriously:

“Besides, Korther gave me a new job. Nothing too risky, but… I’ll have to leave Estergat for a while.”

That left me dumbstruck.

“No!” I protested. “What about me?”

Yal laughed and gave me a mocking look.

“What do you mean, you? Korther only paid for one place in the coach, not two, so you stay in Estergat. Besides, you’ve got a job to do already, as far as I know,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Ha! Not any more,” I assured him. And I pulled out my diamond like a trophy. “I found it in the bedroom of an old magician who snored through the whole thing, as simple as that!”

“Hide it,” Yal snorted, glancing toward the window. “Wait, no, hand it to me. I’ll give it to Korther before I leave.”

I gave it to him and sat beside him on the pallet, watching him finish his sewing.

“So you’re leaving today? So soon?”

“The coach leaves tomorrow morning. Bah. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back. It’s to deliver an object to a Black Dagger of Kitra.”

“And where is that?” I asked.

Yal looked at me as if I had asked him what a tree was.

“Kitra is the capital of Raiwania, sari.”

I struck my knee.

“Oh, right! Not long ago, I read an article in the newspaper about the Great Festival of Kitra. I heard they put on big shows that bring in people from all over Prospaterra. That must be impressive. Now, what’s that thing you have to take with you?”

“Um,” Yal coughed, amused, “I’m not going to say it. Ah, do you mind going and buying me a snack? I’m hungry as a dragon.”

“So am I,” I ratified, jumping to my feet. And as I saw that he was handing me some coins, I raised a hand, solemnly. “No! This time I’m paying.”

I removed the bar from the door, glanced cautiously down the street, and seeing no dogs, I breathed a sigh of relief. I went to The Wind Rose and asked, bringing my hands to either side of my mouth:

“Mr. Innkeeper, two cheese snacks!”

“Right away, Mister Bard!” he replied, amused. “You have company today, eh?”

“A dragon that sings more than I do!” I affirmed, pointing to my stomach.

The nearest drinkers laughed, and more than one raised an eyebrow as I placed the gold coin on the counter; a gwak with a gold coin… was suspicious. But the tavern-keeper didn’t care where I got the coin. He gave me the snacks and the change and said:

“Enjoy your meal, lad.”

I snatched a bite from the snack and walked out of the tavern very busy chewing. By the time I reached the Den, I had already finished my share.

“Devils, is this from The Wind Rose?” Yal complained as he took the snack. “Their bread is drier than dirt. I always buy everything at The Ballerinas. It’s a little more expensive, but it’s a delight.”

“Boo, boo. Fussy eater,” I said. “It’s damn good!”

“Dry as dry wood,” Yal replied, smiling.

“Nail-pincher,” I called him.

Yal’s smile widened, and he ate the snack without complaining further. After helping him with his preparations, which were few, I spent the afternoon with him playing cards until he said he had to go to the Hostel. I said goodbye, and hours later, when he came home and found me lying on my stomach on my pallet, rereading Alitard, the Blessed Valley Man, and his Lamb Destiny, he gave me a curious look.

“You didn’t go out?”

I shrugged.

“Well, no.”

He smiled, dropped into one chair, put the boots on the other, and said:

“Korther said he’ll give you the siatos bit by bit, whenever you ask him for some, and also that, if you want, you can buy material from him at a discount. He said that…” He rolled his eyes, mimicking Korther’s voice, “The lad has substance.”

I smiled and then frowned.

“How am I gonna go ask him for the goldies if I don’t know where he lives? I can’t remember where’s the Hostel.”

“Mmph. It’s in a dead end next to Bone Street. Korther doesn’t really live there, but it’s where we talk business. Rolg will show you if you can’t find it.” He fiddled with the deck of cards and added, “Now that the Fal is about to finish the academic year, I suppose you’ll be out of the job.”

“Yes, he’s going to Griada in a week,” I replied, turning a page in my book. “I’ll find another job. Don’t worry, I already know the tricks. I’m a seasoned Cat.”

Yal did not answer. When I looked up, I saw his thoughtful expression. I returned to my reading but barely read a sentence before I looked away again.

“Elassar.”

“Mm?”

“How long will you be staying in Kirta?”

“Kitra,” he corrected me.

“That. How long?”

“I told you, for some time. A moon. What do I know. It’ll already take over a week to get there by stagecoach, and I’ll probably be in the city for a while.”

I bit my lip.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Dangerous? You bet. The journey? On the Imperial Road, there are hardly any bandits anymore. It’s very controlled,” he assured. “No idea how things are in Raiwania.”

I straightened up.

“And in Raiwania, do they speak Drionsan too?” He nodded, and I stood up, “And there could be monsters attacking people?”

“Dragons, red nadres, manticores, harpies… Nothing to worry about,” he replied in a mocking tone.

I rolled my eyes. I knew he was joking, but his words helped me make up my mind. I moved closer, took off my silver pendant, and gave it to him.

“Here. I know that thing about amulets and charms is nonsense… but it will protect you from manticores anyway. And it will bring you luck. It brought me luck when I traveled through the mountains. Ah, but when you come back, you’ll give it back, okay?”

Yal looked at me, amused.

“Well, Mor-eldal, thank you. But I don’t think that… Well, all right, I’ll take it. Thank you,” he repeated.

I smiled at him.

“You’re welcome.”

I returned to my pallet, and after seeing that Yal was putting on the pendant and examining it with curiosity, I continued reading Alitard and his lamb. Rolg returned shortly afterwards. I heard him talking outside with the neighbor across the street; that’s right, for a few weeks now, we had new neighbors. The beggar from the ruined house had been evicted, and an old lady had moved in with her granddaughter and great-grandson after rehabilitating the house. The newborn child could be heard screaming almost every night. However, when I saw Rolg come in with muffins in his hands, I thought that the grandmother’s generosity more than made up for it.

“Is that for us?” I asked, excitedly.

Rolg smiled.

“She wanted to thank us for helping her out last week with the move. Leave at least one for me to taste, huh?”

He put them on the table, and I took a bite and exclaimed with pleasure. I rushed to the door, opened it, and seeing that the old dark elf was by her window watering flowers, I called out:

“Thank you, Grandma, they’re very good!”

She replied with a smile and a wave of her hand. I went back to the table, having already swallowed the rest of my muffin, and took another. The three of us did not leave a single crumb, and we sat at the table chatting the night away. We talked a great deal about Kitra and Raiwania. Well, let’s say they talked, and I listened, because I had no idea about history and politics. Apparently, Arkolda and Raiwania had once been the same country, but a quarrel had divided them over half a century ago. Both were parliamentary republics, unlike the Northern kingdom of Tassia, where moreover not all races had equal rights. As far as I knew, both republics looked down on their Tassian neighbors, and I knew of several songs in which they were called sons of dogs, tyrants, and infidels, for while Arkolda and Raiwania worshipped the Daglat and their ancestors, the kingdom of Tassia worshipped the Goddess of the Rock, and for that very reason longed to reclaim its ancient possessions on the Sacred Rock of Estergat.

When Yal caught me yawning, he smiled and said:

“We’d better get some sleep. Besides, tomorrow I’ll have to get up very early. If I lose the coach, Korther will wring my ears off.”

We wished Rolg good night, extinguished the lantern, and when we were lying down on our couches, I whispered to Yal:

“Elassar.”

“Mm?”

I bit my lip and asked in a low voice:

“Did Rolg find you too?”

There was a silence. I remembered that the only time I had asked him how he had become a Black Dagger, long ago, Yal had evaded the question. And I feared that this time, too, he would not answer me.

“No,” Yal said then. He turned on his pallet and breathed out, “No. He didn’t find me. But he has raised me since I was ten.”

“Was it Korther, then?” I asked.

Yal huffed softly.

“Not either. No. It’s just… my parents were already Black Daggers. They died trying to find a supposed treasure hidden in the Valley of Evon-Sil. Greed lost them,” he muttered.

I almost regretted having been so curious; almost. I reached out a hand and squeezed his briefly, as if to prevent him from thinking of sad memories. After a silence, I whispered:

“Elassar. You have the necklace, don’t you?”

“Oh. Of course, sari,” he replied. “I even put it on so I wouldn’t forget it. I’m not going to lose it.”

I nodded, smiled, scratched my head, and closed my eyes, gradually slipping into a peaceful sleep.