The next day at breakfast, the mood in the hall was more subdued. A few patrons murmured among themselves at a table. Travelers provisioned themselves with dry goods and grabbed an ale for the road. Locals who had been up all night revelling were nursing hangovers, likely in the same seats they had occupied while the minstrel played.The scent of pipe-smoke hung in the air.
“Have a good sleep?” Valir asked. She tossed a bowl of barley porridge in front of him, along with another plate of cheese. It was sharp and salty, with raisins to balance the dry texture.
“I did...despite all the racket,” He joked.
“Don’t let Jasper hear you. That’s our minstrel and he is touchy.”
“I won’t.”
The cloaked figure from before was still sitting in the corner, apparently still napping.
“Who is that?” he asked, nodding toward it.
“She’s a regular. And that’s all you really need to know.”
“But she’s been sitting there so long. Does she ever move? Does she eat or drink?”
Valir laughed, her brown eyes twinkling. “She certainly does all three of those. Just not very often.”
“You’re sure she’s okay?”
“Positive. But if you want, you can go over and check on her,” she said with a shrug.
He nodded. He wasn’t sure why she was so sure, but Valir seemed like the type who didn’t care about much. The person in the corner could be seriously hurt or sick, for all they knew. He approached slowly, the embers of the fire still glowering from the night before and warming his knees as he stopped in front of her.
“Hey, are you okay?” he reached out a tentative hand.
When the figure didn’t answer, he shook her gently. The figure grunted and was still. After no movement and only a series of grunts, Kel was truly worried. Resolved, he pulled back the hood from the figure. There in the firelight was a furry, surprised face with giant brown eyes. It looked very annoyed.
Kel jumped back as the creature groaned at him. “I’m so sorry,” he backpedalled. The barmaid was shaking with laughter.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Kel backed away, hands raised. “Why didn’t you tell me what she was?” he shot over his shoulder. “You... didn’t... ask.” The barmaid choked out between laughs.
“Can she talk? I don’t think she can talk?” The figure stared at him, then groaned again.
Valir’s face took on a patronizing look. “Kid, you have to learn a spell to communicate with their kind. It’s mandatory in school around here. Not that everyone is great at it, but some are better at it than, say, Hestian language. You don’t have animal folk where you’re from?”
“No.” It was mentioned once or twice around his village, but always as a derogatory. Generally, people just pretended they didn’t exist.”
“We get a few,” she leaned on the bar, stretching. “Trixy there is a regular. Comes in every month or so on her way to Gibb-knows-where.”
“Trixy,” Kel murmured. The agitated Loris huffed, it’s wild eyes hovering over them before turning back to the wall and curling up under the cloak once again, its head under its arm. “What did she say?” Kel asked.
“She...er….said she’s going back to sleep.”
From the way she said it, Kel knew that wasn’t an accurate translation, but he got the feeling he didn’t want to know what had actually been said.
Deciding it was best to just go, he excused himself and made a hasty exit out to the courtyard.
“See you soon, kid!” Valir called out after him.
As his strange experience at breakfast had seemed to predict, the next two elders were a bust. Gale was flighty and apparently held a career founded around divination, which Kel had been raised to suspect. Caaron had taught him that divination was about knowing yourself more than the future - anyone who claimed otherwise was a fool. If that was true, the woman he spoke with was the biggest fool of all. She had spent half the time trying to read his aura and the other half predicting his death with hamster bones. It was tiresome, but not as tiresome as Daal ended up being.
From the moment Kel crossed his threshold, Daal had used every opportunity during the conversation to find either offence or fault (and oftentimes both) in what Kel said. A man in his mid-forties with a balding head and deep frown lines, every word out of his mouth was virulent and angry. He was offended that Kel was inquiring about an apprenticeship - did he expect a handout? He was offended by the offer for help - did he look like he needed help? He attacked Kel’s character for daring to approach him at all and when Kel, sick of being insulted by a stranger, finally turned around on his heel and left, the man continued to chastise him until the door mercifully closed. Kel hadn’t even thought to ask him about Maximilian, but at this point he really didn’t care. He had hated people like the mayor and his cronies, but never in his life had he met someone who so adamantly tried to cause strife. Was Daal truly a wise man, or had Valir just been winding him up?
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
His blood was still boiling as he began to make his way back to the tavern. Distant thunder rolled in the distance. He was just about to cross the threshold into the lift when he was accosted by a young girl. She was a few years younger than him, judging from her stature at least. She wore a dark cloak and a festival mask strapped jauntily to the top of her head. It was beaked, giving her the appearance of a small crow or sparrow. “Need help finding someone? Or something?”
Startled out of his seething anger at the wise man, Kel had to stop and think for a moment. He had met all of the Elders, so there wasn’t anyone else to seek out. He looked her over - she seemed a bit scrawny and there was dirt smudged on her face. Chances were, she didn’t really have a home. She was probably a lot like him, when it came down to it.
“Do you know where I could find Maximilian Magnus?” It was on a whim, really just an excuse to not be completely rude to the girl.
Her face brightened. “Actually, he lives here. I can take you to him, if you’d like.”
That was awfully convenient. Especially after none of the Elders had known anything about him. Caaron always said The simple answer is never easy. And the easy answer is never the right one. He also had a saying about devils fishing with gold. Or was it goblins?
“I’ll find him on my own. Thanks.” He fished in his bag for the pouch and pulled out a coin. While he didn’t trust her, he also couldn’t bring himself to snub her completely. “For your trouble.” He handed it to her and watched her eyes grow wide.
“Thank you.” She hugged him, catching him by surprise.
“No problem.” He patted her on the back awkwardly and stepped back onto the lift.
The girl was grinning ear to ear, hands behind her back, as the lift shuddered to life.
Kel smiled and waved, content to have helped someone. He began to turn and admire the view when he realized that he didn’t feel the familiar weight of his satchel on his shoulders. Panicked, he looked up to see the girl hurrying off, the bag in tow.
“Thief!” Kel yelled and the girl looked back, still grinning. “Get back here!” Startled passengers all stared at him as they all began to descend. The gate prevented him from immediately jumping back to the platform from which he had come. Kel looked about and, with no alternative, launched himself onto the railing and then up to the rope that connected to the four points of the lift.
“What are you doing!?” the attendant yelled, grabbing at Kel’s ankles to bring him back safely onto the lift.
He kicked away at the grasping hands and climbed the rope as the lift continued to descend, rough filaments from the cord biting into and burying themselves in his hand. The grin dropped from the thief's face and she began to flee. Faster and faster he climbed, trying to outpace the dropping rope until finally he was able to get a hold of the smooth platform he had departed from. He saw the kid crossing one of the big bridges, over to the southernmost tree. He ignored the shocked looks people were giving him. He imagined he probably did look crazy, but he wasn’t going to let some good-for-nothing thief take his livelihood. Not when he had come this far. He could see the kid was hopping onto another lift, going down. She was trying to blend in, but her late arrival had jostled the other passengers.
With no other alternative, Kel began to jump down from level to level, cushioning his falls on awnings and sliding down poles where he could find them. The thief could see him, too - her eyes were wide as saucers watching him chase her down the tree, something she had obviously not anticipated. When the girl’s lift was almost to the second-lowest level, he changed trajectory and began to speed across the palisade.. She would see him coming, but he would just have to be fast.
He ran across the platform, just as the lift was opening. “Hey!” he yelled. People recoiled as if he were a monster, parting the way for him. The girl tried to blend into the crowd, but as Kel came closer she began to run. On an even playing field, however, he was finally able to catch up. He got ahold of the bag and tugged hard, jerking the tiny girl to a stop. “Give...It...back” he yelled, jerking it each time.”
“Like hell I will,” She screamed back, holding on for dear life as Kel nearly lifted her into the air.
No one around helped. They just stared: adults in nice flowing robes, suits and dresses, mouths agape with shock at the spectacle. There were no guards around and no one called them either. No one stepped in to stop them. They stood and stared at two children fighting over a bag.
Kel doubled down and grabbed the satchel with his other hand, winding the strap around his wrist. He dug in his heels and pulled as hard as he could. The momentum carried her forward and they crashed against the railing. Before Kel could move, the girl wound up and kicked him square in the balls. He felt the wind sail out of him as he stumbled forward. She ripped the bag from his hands as he doubled over, heaving, and pushed him back against the railing again. The fine wooden structure, apparently more for looks than safety, gave way with a crack.
Kel's stomach flipped as he fell for what felt like an impossibly long time. He saw the ground rise up to meet him and released a gust of wind from his palms, slowing his fall but flipping him into a nearby pile of manure with a wet thud. Groaning, heart pounding mercilessly in his chest, he stared up at the branches above, at the platform he had fallen from. The crowd of onlookers peered, speechless, from the platform above. The girl was gone.
After a few minutes, Kel was able to catch his breath and stand without wanting to throw up. He wasn't hurt badly, just bruised thanks to the lower height of the fall and his own reflexes. If he had fallen from any higher platform, he would have been a splat on the ground. He brushed off what he could of the mud and filth and began the long walk back to the Rootwater Inn. The manure stank and he had to imagine he looked about as disheveled and crazy as he possibly could. Everyone he passed backed away as far as they could or hurried to the other side of the street. Petyr had been right - no one wanted anything to do with him in this state. Rain began to fall, dripping from the impossibly high branches above and dampening Kel’s mood even further.
It was going to be a long day.