As it turned out, there was a good reason roads existed. People used them because they were faster, even when they had to take the long way around stuff. Lemon didn’t regret her detours, but she was now sure she would have made better time if she’d stayed on the roads. Of course, if she’d come through Tamble’s Crossing at a different time, that vampire might have succeeded in abducting Nemba, so Lemon liked to think it had all worked out well in the end.
But now it was seriously time to get to the conference, and after she made her way through the mountains and got back to the flat lands, she made up for lost time by setting a grueling pace that was sustainable only through copious amounts of sausage consumption.
By the time the sun was hanging at its peak in the sky, Lemon was looking down at a great, sprawling collection of buildings with hundreds of farms scattered around it. All of that was overshadowed by a floating island, far up in the air and connected to the ground only be a single shimmering pillar of light that shone brightly through the shadows as it reached up into the center of the island’s underbelly.
“Well, that’s probably it,” Lemon said to herself. Wizards did like their stuff to be extra fancy. Why have a conference on the ground when they could float a huge chunk of land into the air and anchor it to the city with a literal strand of light? Either way, the important part to her was figuring out how to get up there.
Lemon followed the road down to the city, past the farms and other travelers. She ducked around wagons and carts, dodged soldiers on horseback who clanked with each jarring step their mounts took, and resolutely ignored enterprising farmers who’d set up stands on the road-side, though there were a few difficulties resisting the ones who were selling meat.
“Heya, pooch,” one of the farmers said when she walked by. “Where’s a fine-looking dog like yourself off to today?”
“I’m delivering something to the wizards’ conference up on the floating island,” Lemon told him, causing the man to stumble back in shock.
“Whoa! That’s not something you see every day,” he said, scratching his head. “Then again, it’s wizard season. I’ve seen weirder.”
“What? I’m not weird! That’s so rude.”
“Oh, um, my apologies, miss. I didn’t mean to, you know, insult you. You gotta admit though, it’s not everyday you meet a talking dog.”
“That doesn’t make me weird,” Lemon insisted.
“No, no, you’re right. That was my mistake. Let me make it up to you,” the farmer said. He cast his gaze around his stand for a second, then added, “Uh… I don’t suppose you’re a fan of carrots or turnips?”
“Not really, no.”
“Don’t blame you. Not proper food for a pooch such as yourself.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I am on a deadline,” Lemon said. “Though if you’ve got any advice for reaching that island, I’d gladly take it.”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know much about that. The light lands in the rich district, and there’s a bunch of guards hired to keep people who aren’t supposed to be there away from it. I’m sure they’d let a magical talking dog through, right? Obviously, you’re supposed to be at a wizards’ meet up.”
“Yeah. Exactly. Plus I’m making a delivery for a wizard who’s attending, so they should let me up, no problem.”
“Sure hope so,” the farmer said. “If a magic dog can’t get through, nothing can. I’m real sorry again about what I said, miss.”
“It’s fine. I’ve… been called worse.”
“Tell you what. I’ve got a friend of mine who’s selling mutton a quarter of a mile down the road. You get there, tell him Triblo sent you. Get yourself a piece on me.”
The farmer flicked a fat copper coin through the air, which Lemon caught with Wizard’s Hand. She stowed it away into her messenger bag charm and said, “Thanks! I will!”
“You have a good day now, Miss Talking Dog. Best of luck to you.”
Lemon kept on trotting down the road, her nose leading the way and drool practically falling off her tongue at the thought of a nice, hot chunk of mutton. She sniffed repeatedly at various stands until she found one that smelled right. Approaching it, she asked, “Do you sell mutton?”
The farmer had a small portable stove set up and a rack of meat near it. He blinked owlishly at her, surprise evident on his face. “I… do, yes.”
“Triblo said to tell you to sell me a piece on him, and gave me this.”
She produced the copper coin out of her bag and held it out to the bemused farmer, who picked it out of the air where it floated in front of him. “Well, guess I owe you a piece of mutton. How do you like your meat?”
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“As soon as possible. I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Lemon said.
The farmer laughed and said, “Raw as I can make it and still call it cooked. Got it.”
He started cooking while Lemon watched. She wasn’t staring; that would be rude. Sure, she was… intent on the process, but it was only natural to be curious. She definitely did not lick her chops at any point in the process.
“So, dog like you out here, I’m guessing you’re part of the big wizard thing,” the farmer said, waving a hand in the direction of the island.
“Sort of. I’m on my way there now.”
“Figured you had to be. This’ll just be another minute,” he said, prodding the mutton. “A bit lighter than I’d normally do it, but if that’s how you want it. Listen, when you get into the city itself, you’re going to want to be careful. They don’t just let pets run around unattended, and it would be easy to mistake you for a lost dog if I didn’t know any better. You might have some troubles with the city guard if you just go strolling down main street.”
“I’ll just explain to them that I’m not a lost pet.”
“Sure, and that’ll probably work, but how much time will it cost you if you have to keep telling every guard you meet? You said you were in a hurry.”
“That’s true,” Lemon said, her eyes flicking up from the cooking meat to the farmer and back down again. “What do you think I should do?”
“Well, if you were a person, I’d say to stay on the main street and avoid the shadier parts of the city. But I don’t see any reason anyone would bother a dog walking down those streets. If you don’t mind going out of your way, you could probably take Wall Road all the way around, then cut through Fisher’s Square to get to Gold Hill. That’s where the island is anchored with that column of light. You’d still have to explain who you are to the guards there, but it beats dodging every dog catcher in the city, right?”
“I guess so.”
Lemon had no idea, in all honesty. She hadn’t planned any further ahead than walking directly towards the pillar inside the city and figuring it out once she got there. The very idea that there were humans who had a dedicated profession that revolved around catching dogs seemed absurd to her, but there was no reason to think the farmer was lying about it.
It wasn’t like Lemon couldn’t defend herself if she needed to, but if getting to her destination without a hassle meant an extra half an hour of walking, that wasn’t too steep a price to pay. “Wall Road, Fisher’s Square, Gold Hill. Got it.”
“There’s some rough neighborhoods on Wall Road, but I can’t see anyone trying to hit up a dog for a road toll as long as they think you’re just a normal dog. You just go on through as quick as you can, straight in one side and out the other, and everything will be fine.”
“Okay,” Lemon agreed.
The farmer just shook his head, poked at the chunk of mutton again, and nodded to himself. “Uh… normally I’d put this on a skewer, but you don’t have… you know… hands. I don’t have a plate for you either.”
“That’s not a problem. I’ll just take that and…” The mutton rose off the portable stove, causing the farmer to jerk back out of the way, and floated over to Lemon. She licked her chops (for the first time!) and took a nibble off the corner. “Still hot!”
“Well yeah. Silly dog. Just give it a minute for the steam to stop coming off it.”
Patience was not one of Lemon’s virtues, and despite her best efforts, she ended up eating it with large, open-mouthed chews to mitigate the burning of her mouth. The farmer just shook his head and laughed. “Even a magical dog is still a dog, after all.”
After pulling her bowl out of her bag for a drink, again surprising the farmer, Lemon got back on her way. Kapsulon was only a mile or two down the road, and from there the distance to the conference would be measured in minutes. Despite all the setbacks, Lemon was going to make it in time after all.
‘Wall Road’ was a bit confusing to find, since the city didn’t actually have a wall around it. It turned out that it instead referred to a five-dogs-high wall that split part of the city’s interior, with one side being made up of market districts all crammed together and pressed up against the wall. The other side was all residential, and the wall had been put up to keep the market from spilling over into people’s homes. It had a thin road winding along next to it, more of a dirt alley between the houses and the wall than anything.
At least, that’s what the old codger she’d asked for directions had told her, not that she’d asked.
Lemon trotted along, taking in the smells and the sights. People walked the road next to her, going between houses and using the gates that studded the wall to enter the market district. Each gate was labeled, but Lemon didn’t bother to try to read them at first. She wasn’t good with letters anyway. It was only after she’d gone by a handful that she had the thought to look closer and see if any of them led to Fisher’s Square.
It didn’t much matter to her if she missed it, as long as she kept heading towards the pillar of light, but she figured she ought to at least try to follow the directions she’d been given. She spotted a kid running in her direction, older then Nemba or the trio from Wilbourghy. He had short blond hair and dirty, patched clothes, and he smelled like sweat, leather, and fear.
“Excuse me, can you tell me where to- Hey! Where are you going?”
The kid ran right past Lemon without even slowing down, so she took off after him. He glanced back at the dog, did a double-take, and gasped out, “Did you… just ask… me a… question?”
“I did, yes. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Couple guys from the neighborhood are after me. They say my family owes ‘em money, but they’re liars.”
Sure enough, four older boys, maybe adults (Lemon wasn’t great at telling when human puppies became human adults) were rushing down Wall Road after the boy. Two of them brandished clubs, and one had some sort of cooking knife. “Oh, yeah. You should probably run faster.”
“That’s… what… I’m doing.”
The boy huffed and puffed as he ran for all he was worth, and Lemon followed along behind him. “In here,” he said, ducking to the side and crawling into a big old wooden crate that had half the side rotted out. Lemon followed behind him, her tail wagging furiously, and saw that the house it was pushed up next to also had a hole in it. They went completely through into some sort of crawl space underneath someone’s home.
“Whew, I think we’re safe,” the boy said.
Suddenly, the crate was ripped away from the wall and sunlight filtered into the crawlspace. “Come on out, you little freak,” a harsh voice demanded. “If we have to come in after you, it’ll only make things worse.”