Gilliam swirled the wine in his cup, glowering at it as if it was to blame for his sour mood. It didn’t deserve the blame. It was the best wine in the house, he knew, having sampled every vintage they had, but it was still too sweet for the tastes of a man who’d been raised in a noble family in the capital. How far he had fallen since! The task of a whipping boy may not last into adulthood, but the skills he had learned as a lord’s son’s constant companion kept him out of the poorhouse. He’d been selected from among the servant’s children for his intelligence, because Lord Yar wanted his son to be challenged in competition with him. The tutors had given the lion’s share of their attention to Young Master, but Gilliam was always there, and he had learned well. Now if only he could find a better use for his skills than working figures for a pompous old man like Lord Westfall! It was so tedious! He could almost feel the stack of papers he had brought with him to The Leaning Pillar looming over him, demanding his attention.
He lifted his cup and swirled his wine a few times before placing it back on the table. As he watched it settle back into stillness he imagined what it might be like to study with the monks at High Tierni in the Coldown Mountains. It was said the monks had a copy of all the books ever written in their great library, including many in languages no one knew anymore. How he wished to go there and try to decipher them! And not only that! In Tierni’s Tower of Alchemy the monks were always studying the workings of the world, performing carefully crafted experiments to divine its inner secrets. Many nights Gilliam had laid awake trying to imagine a way to divine the secret laws that governed the world, but he didn’t even know where to start. The monastery couldn’t be far from here. The mountains stood so tall in the sky here that he knew they could not be far. Gilliam lapsed into staring out the window, imagining himself on those mountains, though he could see only the bustle of the street.
“It’s a shame to be stuck inside on such a nice day, isn’t it?” said a voice, very close behind him.
Gilliam jumped a little, but he was smiling by the time he had turned to face Kiri. “I’m avoiding work,” he explained, gesturing at the stack of papers.
Kiri made a face. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “It seems like work is all you do. It would drive anybody to stare out the windows.”
Gilliam chuckled. “I don’t see you out of the inn much.”
“She’s not working,” Karey offered as she walked by. “Takes her breaks on the job these days.”
Kiri grinned sheepishly at her. “I guess I’d better take these to their owners,” she said, holding up two plates full of food. She leaned close to Gilliam and murmured. “Don’t take the next step after looking out of windows.”
“What’s that?” Gilliam asked.
“Jumping.” Kiri whisked off to see to her customers. Gilliam sighed and pulled the first paper from the stack and began entering figures into his large ledger. He looked up when he heard the chair across from him scrape the floor.
“Mind if I sit?” Garon asked, although he was already doing so.
“How are you, Garon?” Gilliam asked. Long training in manners kept his irritation at the interruption out of his voice. Kiri’s interruption had been welcome, but Garon was not a pretty barmaid.
“Better ‘n you, I’ll wager,” Garon said, gesturing to the papers. “I’m glad I don’t have to work all those figures.”
“Figures aren’t so bad,” Kiri said, as she came up and set a drink in front of Garon. She had pulled the draught as soon as he walked into the inn. He visited so often now that she didn’t need to take his order.
“Oh, that’s right,” Gilliam said. “Garon mentioned that you were good with numbers. You used to keep your family’s shops books, right?”
Kiri nodded, her face going blank as it usually did when someone mentioned her family.
“I don’t suppose you’d help me with this?” Gilliam gestured at the papers. “I’d pay you, of course.”
Kiri brightened at that. “I could use the money,” she said. “And I don’t know why, but I’ve always liked doing books.”
“Crazy.” Garon leaned across the table and faux-whispered loudly to Gilliam.
Gilliam smiled. “I like numbers too,” he said. “They are so much more predictable than people.”
Kiri laughed. “I guess that’s true. I think what I like most is tracking down an error and making it all balance perfectly.”
“Ah, yes,” Gilliam said. “Very satisfying! So, as I said: would you like to help?”
“I’ll have to work around my schedule here,” Kiri said.
“Not a problem,” Gilliam said. “Another nice thing about numbers is they wait on the page until you are ready for them. They will not demand your attention as that young man over there is right now.”
“Oh!” Kiri ran off to see what the other customer, who was leaning dangerously back in his chair to wave at her, might need.
Garon was looking at Gilliam with an expression of mock-horror on his face. “You’re just as crazy as she is.”
Gilliam shrugged. “Perhaps you would find numbers to your liking as well if you were to give it a try.”
“I tried,” Garon said. “Kiri tried to teach me and my sister Mala both. Numbers are a mystery to me. Mala could figure as well as Kiri, but she got bored of it. She gets bored of everything, though.” He chewed on his lower lip and looked Gilliam up and down through narrowed eyes. “Never met anyone before who takes to numbers like Kiri does.”
Gilliam returned Garon’s stare. “Yes,” he said. “It seems we have a lot in common.”
~
Through a series of snatched conversations while Kiri went about her work it was settled that Kiri would indeed help Gilliam with the tax papers. They agreed it would be impossible for her to work at The Leaning Pillar without being constantly interrupted, so she would need to find another space. When Gilliam offered to share his workroom at the manor she practically glowed with excitement. Garon grew more and more sullen as Gilliam and Kiri worked out their plans. He felt he had made a tactical error suggesting Kiri work with Gilliam. Now they were going to be alone together at the manor, a place it would be impossible for him to casually drop by. Events were moving out of his control. When Gilliam gathered up his papers and excused himself, Garon remained at the table, nursing his drink. He stared at the table with his face set in a deep frown, trying to come up with a way to rescue his carefully laid plans.
When Kiri finished her shift she came and sat down
“What’s bothering you, Garon?” she asked. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
Garon stared at the table silently for a moment, still so caught up in feeling sorry for himself that he almost missed the opportunity in front of him. When his mind finally told him what his ears had heard, he felt all that tension evaporate into relief. “Yes, yes there is,” he said, smiling at Kiri. “Let’s go for a walk.”
~
Their walk took them on a winding path through the town. With no particular destination in mind Kiri and Garon eventually stopped among the reeds in a small rainwater gully. It marked the dividing line between the respectable part of town and the seedy docks. Behind them were all the buildings that were part of regular life for the townsfolk, ahead all the rowdy and raucousness of the river men and the businesses that catered to them. Only a few yards away from where they stood the stream drained into the rush of the River Thwyne, but here the water moseyed along, making little pools along its way. Kiri was balancing carefully on two rocks, mindful of her good shoes. Garon had waded right out into the muck. It wasn’t that he had no care for his shoes, but he simply had a different approach than Kiri. When she pointed out that his shoes were getting muddy he explained he already had plans to wash them in the river and leave them out in the sun to dry all afternoon.
Garon leaned over, staring into the muck like there was something fascinating in there. All Kiri saw was bugs and bits of rotting plants.
“There we go,” he said, swooping down and coming up with something in his hand.
“What is that?” Kiri exclaimed. It looked as if he was holding a wriggling piece of mud.
“It’s a mud eel,” Garon held it closer to let her see. “Don’t tell me you’ve never caught mud eels before.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure,” Kiri said. “It must be one of those things only the boys did.”
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“Huh,” Garon said. “I used to catch mud eels all the time. You never did?”
Kiri shook her head, smiling. “I was probably sitting in a circle with the girls knitting socks when all you boys were...doing that.” She gestured at Garon’s hands, which were in constant motion to keep the slippery eel from getting away. The mud was coming off on Garon’s fingers and it was starting to actually look like an eel instead of a strangely shaped clod of mud.
“So what do you do now?” she asked. “Eat it?”
“Ugh, no,” Garon said. “I did once. They’re disgusting. Nah, usually you throw it in your bucket. At the end of the day you see who caught the most.”
“We don’t have a bucket,” Kiri pointed out.
“Then you throw it back,” Garon said, as he did just that. He wiped his hands off on his trousers and watched the newly freed eel wriggle back into the mud. “Now tell me that’s not better than knitting socks.”
“I don’t know,” Kiri said. “Fun as that looks--well, you can’t even eat it. At least when we girls get done knitting you can wear the socks.”
“We could catch some catfish,” Garon said. “You can eat those.”
Kiri rolled her eyes. “I’m not hungry...just...what’s the point?”
“It’s fun,” Garon said. “You have to try it.”
“Well…all right. Hang on.” Kiri slipped off her shoes and socks and tucked them into the pockets of her apron. Her pockets bulged, and she took a while making sure everything was wedged in so it wouldn’t fall out. Garon watched her with an air that made her feel she was taking too much time.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have extra shoes.”
“Come over here.” Garon beckoned her over. “Look over there.” He pointed.
Kiri stepped off the rocks and into the mud. It squelched and tugged at her feet with every step. When she was standing right by Garon she looked where he was pointing.
“It’s mud,” she said.
“No, no,” Garon said. He actually sounded excited. “Look!”
So Kiri squinted at it. She tilted her head to one side, then the other. And then she saw it. “Ah,” she said. “That mud is looking at me.”
“That’s the mud eel,” Garon said. “Grab it.”
She started to lean towards it, but Garon stopped her with an outstretched arm. “You have to go all at once,” he said. “As soon as you get near it, it’ll move away.”
Kiri nodded. She leaned a little closer and held up both of her hands. After facing down robbers, surely one little mud eel should be easy. She sucked on her upper lip, counted silently to three, and sprang. As her hands plunged into the mud, the still eel came suddenly to life. It was fast. Her hand only caught the end of its tail as it slithered away. Quite embarrassingly, she found that her wild lunge had thrown her off balance. Enough of her weight was now on her arms, plunged elbow deep in mud, that she couldn’t get up.
Garon was hooting with laughter. Kiri tried to glare at him, but she could barely twist far enough to see him.
“Help me up!” she said.
“You should see yourself!” Garon said. “All right, all right. Hang on.”
Kiri felt him step close and wrap his arms around her waist. With a quick jerk he yanked her up out of the mud. Kiri stumbled back against him. He was now holding her quite close. Even with mud covering her arms to her elbows (and no doubt spattering the rest of her) Kiri felt her skin tingle and her heart speed up a little.
“I’ve, uh, got to wash these off,” she held up her muck-covered arms. Garon released her immediately, but his hands trailed on her waist when she stepped over to the creek to rinse off the worst of the mud.
Something caught her eyes when she straightened up to wipe her hands on her skirt. Over toward the docks there was a large group of men gathered behind one of the buildings. Most were standing and watching a smaller group that, at this distance, were just a jumble of confused movement.
“Ugh,” Garon said near her side, startling her. She hadn’t noticed him come up. “I hate that. That is not a fair fight.”
“That’s a fight?” But now that he’d pointed it out, she could see what was happening. She could resolve the movements into a group of four or five men surrounding one, punching and shoving him around their circle.
“Yes,” she said softly. “That is awful.” She shook her head and looked up at Garon. She knew what she needed to do, but she couldn’t let him see it. “You know what, I’m really messy. I’m going to go back and change. See you tomorrow.” He looked confused and a little hurt, but her best smile and a gesture at her extremely messy self seemed to reassure him. She breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes were drawn by the action across the water so he didn’t watch her out of sight.
~
Garon bent over and rinsed his hands in the water, still staring at the fight on the other side of the creek. He really hated to watch it--that guy was really taking a beating--but he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Why didn’t anyone in the crowd stop it? Was that man so universally hated, or that gang so universally feared, that no one would say enough was enough? The man in the middle was stumbling now. Garon winced as the man fell to his knees from a blow to the back of the head. Then he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. There, running across the roof of the building beside the fight, was a figure--almost certainly a woman by the way she moved--dressed in black.
A thrill of excitement ran through Garon. He had never seen her before, but he knew immediately who that acrobatic figure flitting over the rooftops must be. “It’s The Firebrand! Hey! Kiri!” He glanced over his shoulder, but Kiri was long gone. That was too bad. True, she hadn’t been as excited by their new resident hero as he had, but he still would have loved to share this moment with her. “I can’t believe she’s missing this.”
Standing amid the rushes didn’t offer the best view of the dockyards. Garon backed up to see better, his feet dragging mud with him because he didn’t dare take his eyes off the Firebrand. She leaped on more roof and came to a graceful stop right at the edge by the yard with the fight. She planted her feet and raised one hand straight out before her, toward the crowd below. The Firebrand must have said something then, or someone must have pointed her out, because every single head turned to look at her, even the man getting the beating, who at this point was on his feet only because one of his opponents had hold of him under the arms and was presenting him to the others for more hits.
For a few moments everyone stared silently at the menacing black shape of the Firebrand. Near the edges, among the spectators, a few of the more cautious souls began backing up.
Garon for his part wanted to charge closer, and if the creek hadn’t been between them he might have. The pent-up energy sent him bouncing up and down on his toes, his heels squelching in the muck. If only he could hear what was being said; the whole crowd seemed fixated on the Firebrand. She stood in front of them like a queen before her court, passing judgment. Without warning, so far a Garon could tell, there was a flash, accompanied by a noise so loud it left his ears ringing. Garon was so startled he fell backwards into the mud. One elbow sank into the muck with him and his other arm had automatically raised to protect himself. But nothing had come near him. Five lines of light had arced through the air between the the Firebrand at the rooftop and the gathered crowd. It took him a moment to get his feet back underneath him and shake the muck from his hand. Garon’s eyes were half-dazzled by the afterimages of the lightning and he could not see the Firebrand anymore. He blinked, trying to spot her. The rooftop where she had been standing was empty now. Below, the crowd that had been watching the fight was scattering, running in panic. Garon couldn’t blame them. He had been terrified, too, and he was a lot further away, and not a target of the Firebrand’s power himself. Anybody she might move onto punishing next would be smart to clear out quickly. But not everyone could move quickly. Five men remained in the yard where the fight had taken place. They were all lying on the ground, but they were moving around, although they seemed to be in pain. The woman in black had not killed them, but she’d given them a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.
“Good for you, Firebrand!” Garon shouted. He couldn’t see her anywhere, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in earshot. Why not let her know how he felt? “They had it coming!”
He looked around, searching for a glimpse of her, but of course she didn’t show herself or give any reply. He hadn’t expected her to, but he hoped wherever she was she had heard his approval. It really was too bad Kiri had missed seeing her. He had never been more impressed with anyone in his life.
~
“...like brighter than the brightest thing you’ve ever seen,” Garon practically rose up out of his chair with excitement as he told his story, yet again. He spread his hands wide to emphasize just how extreme the events he was relating should be understood to be.
“Uh huh.” Kiri hid her grin behind her cup.
“But brighter than that,” Garon said. “Just like...” he shook his head, leaning closer to Kiri. “Really bright.”
“You said that,” Kiri said. “It was really bright and really loud.”
“I’m not getting this across,” Garon said. “You don’t know how amazing--”
“No,” Kiri interrupted. “Trust me, you’ve made me jealous.”
“I can’t believe you missed it!” Garon said. It was at least the tenth time he had said those exact words in the last hour.
“Missed what?” Gilliam asked. He came up behind Kiri and rested his hand on the back of her chair. She twisted around to look up at him.
“Garon saw the Firebrand yesterday,” she explained.
“You were at the docks?” Gilliam raised his eyebrows at Garon.
“No, just by the river,” Garon said. “Wait, you heard about it?”
“Only a brief account,” Gilliam said.
“Then you should hear Garon tell the full story,” Kiri said. “It was apparently very bright.”
Garon narrowed his eyes in Kiri’s direction.
“He’ll have to make it quick,” Gilliam said. “We have an appointment.”
“Oh, right, Westfall Manor,” Kiri said.
Garon was pleased enough to get to tell the story again that he left off glaring at Kiri and launched into his exuberant account. Kiri tried not to blush as he gushed over the astounding, amazing, and mysterious Firebrand.
“You saw her up close,” he said to Gilliam after his story was done. “Was she pretty?”
Gilliam looked at Kiri before answering. Kiri almost giggled when she realized he thought she might be jealous. She covered her mouth with one hand and raised her eyebrows.
“Ah,” he said. “Well, she was wearing a mask. But I saw nothing objectionable.”
Kiri got abruptly to her feet. Her chair scraped noisily against the floor. “Well, time to go.”
“Ah, yes,” Gilliam glanced at the darkening windows. The hour was getting late. “Until later, then.”
“Bye,” Garon answered. He couldn’t seem to be bothered to so much as look at Kiri and Gilliam standing by the table. As excited as he had been moments ago, he seemed down and grumpy now, glowering into his drink.
“Yup, bye,” Kiri, annoyed at Garon’s sudden rudeness, stomped out the door without a backward glance.