“We must leave,” Ladonna said as they helped her stand. She winced in pain, her every movement straining her wound. “The guild will send more of them after us. We’re not safe here.”
“At the inn?” Par-Salian said, supporting her as best he could. How he managed with his wounded leg, Tythonnia didn’t know. She felt pain in her own shoulder.
“No … Palanthas,” Ladonna responded. She grimaced as she stood wobbily.
“We can’t leave until you get better,” Tythonnia said.
“You should talk,” she replied. “Have you seen yourselves?”
That was enough to set all three of them chuckling.
The Journeyman watched them from the window. The ampoule’s draught wasn’t enough to heal her injuries completely, but time would do the rest. The Journeyman was only glad he’d been prepared for the lack of healers in this time.
The innkeeper and his wife watched in horror as the three wizards made their way to the Wanderer’s Welcome. “They can’t stay here!” the innkeeper begged the Journeyman. “Please!”
The Journeyman nodded. He mounted the stairs. “I’ll be out by the morrow,” he said. “And they will be leaving too. But help them now and remember our agreement. Say nothing of me.”
The innkeeper nodded gratefully.
The boy with unruly, black hair and green eyes waited in the shadows of the alley in the company of his older companion. Unlike Sutler, the boy felt safe with Keanan. The older boy was still young by guild standards but well regarded for his skills.
“Ain’t you gonna kill them?” the boy asked, nodding to the three injured wizards heading into the inn.
“No,” Keanan said. He drew the black cloak around his shoulders and pulled his long, black hair out from beneath it. “They killed twice our numbers with magic-no telling what they got left in their bag of tricks.”
The boy nodded sagely in hopes of impressing his companion.
“Besides,” Keanan said, “I’m not much inclined to avenge Sutler. He had what’s coming to him.”
The boy studied Keanan’s angular face to see if he was being tested for his loyalty. Keanan was grinning down at him, however, a thin eyebrow raised in amusement and a look that playfully defied the boy to contradict him.
“Yeah, he did,” the boy said. “I’m glad he’s dead. But guild law says those three gotta pay for what they did.”
Keanan’s smile widened. “You’re right. They gotta pay, and I know just the people to do it. And they’ll even pay us for that privilege.”
The boy threw a quizzical look up at Keanan, but the older fellow was already bounding upward, bouncing between the two walls of the alley until he deftly pulled himself over the lip of the adjoining roof. From above, Keanan whispered, “Stay here. If they leave, follow them and then tell me where they got to.”
The boy nodded. “But what if the guards come?”
“They won’t,” Keanan whispered. “After those screams, nobody’s venturing outside to alert nobody. Now keep watch.”
The boy grinned and beamed inwardly. Keanan had trusted him with an important task, and he was eager to do right by that trust. He watched the inn, intent on his duty. A small, satisfied part of him enjoyed watching Sutler’s corpse.
It wasn’t until the next morning that the boy found Keanan again. He related what he’d seen and heard, and in turn, Keanan brought him to speak with three strangers waiting at the Bright Horizons Rest. The strangers were all intimidating, from the blond-haired man who studied the boy with an eagle’s intensity, to the bear of a man who was stout of chest and all beard, to the woman with knives for eyes and a strange metal book strapped across her chest.
“Tell them what you told me,” Keanan said, nodding to the three. They were all seated in a private dining room in the back, their table covered in breakfast plates (most of it for the larger man, the boy suspected) and the air filled with the smell of eggs and thick bacon. The boy began speaking, but he was so hungry, he kept distracting himself with glances to the table.
The large man smiled and offered the boy two strips of greasy bacon. The boy wolfed them down quickly, despite the impatient look thrown his way by the woman. Finally, after a small burp, the boy continued.
“So I started following them like I was told,” he said.
“Did they have horses?” the blond-haired man asked.
“Two. They took them from the stables. The woman with black hair was riding one with the man holding her up; I thought she was dead, for sure.”
“Go on,” the woman said. “Where did they go?”
“Well,” the boy admitted, “I’m not exactly sure.”
“You lost them?” the woman said, rising suddenly from her chair and tipping it to the floor with a loud crash. Even her two compatriots seemed startled.
Keanan was all smiles as he stepped in between the woman and the child, his hands resting easily on his belt. The boy knew better, however. He knew the belt hid throwing knives, enough to kill the three strangers.
“Easy now,” Keanan said. “Let him finish.”
The woman was momentarily confused, like the anger had overtaken her suddenly. She nodded absently, righted her chair, and sat down, apparently taken aback at her own behavior and angrier still. She motioned for the boy to continue.
“Well, the three and their horses … they just vanished, see?” The boy snapped his fingers. “Like that. Like they did in the fight.”
“They went invisible,” the large man said, sighing. “Back to the beginning.”
“No wait,” the boy said. “I still followed them.”
“How?” the blond-haired man asked.
“Well, they vanished right?” the boy said, all proud of himself. “But I could still hear them clopping through the street. So I followed the sound.”
Both the large man and the blond one smiled, a look that filled the boy with pride. The woman, however, didn’t appear impressed one way or the other. The boy decided he didn’t like her.
“You followed the sound and didn’t get caught?” the woman said. “Lucky. Very lucky. Where did they go?”
“Well that’s the thing. They rode all the way into Smiths’ Alley and then stopped. I listened for a long time … till morning when everyone started waking up, but I heard nothing. I didn’t see where they hid. Only that it was near the Alley.”
The woman stood again, the uncertainty gone from her eyes. She tossed Keanan a coin purse and nodded to the others. They stood as well and headed for the door.
“If this information proves accurate,” the woman said, “we’ll pay you the remaining half later.”
Keanan nodded as he hefted the pouch in his hands. He didn’t bother peering inside the purse.
The bearish man, as he passed the boy, patted him on the shoulder with his massive hand and nodded to the table. “Eat. Grow big and strong like me,” he said then laughed at his own joke as he left the room. The boy decided he liked him the best.
The boy waited for Keanan to give him the nod before he set about wolfing down the plates of food. They were partially eaten, but he devoured them just the same. There was no telling when he’d have a chance at such a fine meal again. As he ate, shoving bits of pork and scooping eggs into his mouth with his fingers, Keanan sat next to him.
“You did good,” Keanan said. “I think you’ve earned yourself a nickname … Lucky.”
“Lucky Leppomanto!” the boy cheered with food spilling from his mouth and his arm thrown in the air.
“Let’s stick with Lucky, for now. Leppomanto’s not an easy name to remember.”
The boy nodded again. He felt as if he were going to burst. Sutler was dead and he had earned himself a guild nickname before any of the other boys. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, Keanan pushed a couple of copper pieces his way.
“You earned it,” Keanan said before claiming two strips of bacon for himself.