Kel hesitated.
“Come on, Kel,” Dorna called, her gaze still focused on her magical guide. “I may need you. You know the city, and I don’t.”
Kel hurried to the step, but just before he leapt to the ground he turned back to Irien and said, “I’m sorry.”
Then he was following Dorna at a trot, south through Grandgate Market, as Irien drove the wagon into the side-street.
CHAPTER TWELVE
From Grandgate Market Dorna led the way down Soldiertown Street, then hesitated where Barracks Street forked off to the left. She looked at Kel. He pointed to the right, and they continued down Soldiertown, drawing curious glances from passersby.
As they continued almost due south through Soldiertown, Dorna grew steadily more agitated. Finally she stopped, and looked around wildly.
“We’re going the wrong way!” she said. “He’s in that direction!” She pointed ahead and to the left.
“He’s probably somewhere in Smallgate,” Kel said, nodding.
“But none of the streets go that direction!”
“No, they don’t,” Kel agreed, puzzled.
“Why not?”
This question struck Kel as rather like asking why water is wet; the streets went where the streets went, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. “Most of the streets in Soldiertown go either north and south, or east and west,” he said. “Except for the alleys off Gambler Street, there aren’t any curves or diagonals between Whore Street and Smallgate.”
She glared at him.
“There are plenty of crooked streets in Smallgate,” Kel offered helpfully. “That’s how you’ll know when we’re in Smallgate, and not in Soldiertown anymore.”
“Then how are we supposed to get to where Ezak has my things, if none of the streets go there?”
“He’s probably somewhere in Smallgate,” Kel repeated.
“Yes, but how do we get to Smallgate?”
“Straight down Soldiertown to Midway Street is the easiest,” Kel said.
“What’s the fastest?”
“Oh, I don’t…I mean…” Kel looked around for a way to escape, but Dorna grabbed his shoulder.
“Show me,” she demanded.
Kel bit his lower lip, then nodded. “This way,” he said.
They turned left on Gambler Street, then right on Cheaters’ Alley, where Kel popped the hidden latch on Bennimin the Lender’s back gate, so they could cut through a nameless courtyard, ducking under a clothesline and then out a smoke-blackened passage to emerge on Armorer Street, which they followed four blocks further south, past homes and second-hand shops and a tinker’s workshop-the actual armorers were all further to the north. A dry culvert, another courtyard, and another narrow nameless alley brought them to Archer Street, where Dorna’s talisman indicated their target was now almost directly south of them, straight down the road, less than half a mile away; the sorcerer’s widow was visibly relieved by this discovery. “It’s a good thing we left the wagon with Irien,” she said, glancing back at the route they had followed. “But it’s straight from here.” She smiled.
Kel was not quite so cheerful about it. He was somewhat surprised they had not encountered any real obstacles or hazards yet-the shortcuts they had used were not always so cooperative. He knew that “straight” did not always mean “easy,” and in fact their route probably wasn’t going to be straight at all. Archer Street ended at Smallgate Street, just north of a tangle of alleys and byways that Dorna would probably find incomprehensible-not to mention dangerous. That was Kel’s home neighborhood, and where he thought they were likely to find Ezak, but the prospect of bringing a woman there, a small woman who did not know the city or its customs and who did not look at all intimidating, did not appeal to him. She did have her magical weapon, but the people most likely to jump her might not recognize it as a weapon at all. Her only visible protection would be Kel, and Kel did not think his presence was going to seriously deter anyone-especially after dark, and the afternoon shadows were lengthening ominously. As he watched, he saw a woman in a gauzy red skirt step out to light the lantern above her elaborately-painted door.
Dorna looked at her talisman, ignoring the locals. “There’s something over that way that’s interfering,” she said, pointing to the west.
“Wizard Street is about eight blocks in that direction,” Kel said.
“That would account for it,” she acknowledged.
They marched on, past Uncle Vezalis’ house; Kel did not point it out, and the talisman apparently did not react to it. Ten minutes after emerging from the alley they reached the intersection of Archer and Smallgate, where Archer Street ended. Dorna stared at the tenement ahead of them as if its existence was a personal affront, then looked down at the talisman. “It’s still pointing straight ahead,” she said. “About…two hundred yards, maybe?”
Kel nodded. “This way,” he said, turning right.
Dorna reluctantly followed, keeping an eye on the talisman and glancing now and then at the two- and three-story buildings that lined the south side of Smallgate Street.
“Smallgate Street doesn’t actually go to the gate,” Kel remarked, trying to distract her. “It ends at Wall Street maybe a quarter-mile from the gatehouse. It’s just called Smallgate Street because it leads straight from the Palace to the district of Smallgate. The only streets at the gate itself are Wall Street and Landsend Street.”
“All right,” Dorna said, obviously not listening.
Kel sighed. “This way,” he said, turning left into an alley.
Dorna followed, still focused on the golden boot-heel as Kel led her around the corner into the shadowed passage. She was oblivious to their surroundings, trusting Kel and her sorcery to guide her.
“Dorna?” Kel said, as they walked on.
“Right,” she said, staring at the talisman.
“Dorna!”
She looked up, annoyed. “What?”
“You might want to be less obvious about that thing you’re holding.”
Dorna looked around, suddenly realizing that they were in a cramped, crooked alley between two buildings that had seen not merely better days, but better centuries. The plaster walls on either side were webbed with cracks and patches, and the patches themselves were cracked and patched-or sometimes not patched; wattle was exposed several places. The ground beneath their feet was packed garbage, not sand. The few windows within ten feet of the ground were tightly shuttered, or completely bricked up. The windows on the upper floors were more varied-open, closed, shuttered, barred, or broken-and she could see at least two pairs of eyes staring down at them from open casements. Little sunlight managed to find its way through the narrow gap between the roofs overhead. There were no other pedestrians in sight.
“This isn’t a safe place for outsiders,” Kel said. “Or for anyone, really.”
“Oh,” Dorna said. Instead of putting the talisman out of sight, though, as Kel had hoped she would, she merely switched it to her other hand and drew the black weapon from her belt and held that ready.
“It’s going to get worse,” Kel said.
She threw him a glance. “Why? Isn’t there a safer route?”
“To where we usually live when Ezak’s uncle won’t let us in? No.”
“No?”
“We needed a place so bad slavers wouldn’t come in and catch us while we were sleeping.”
She stared at him for a moment, then said, “Oh.” She looked around the alley again. “How do you know he isn’t at his uncle’s house?”
“Because we went right past it, and your magic didn’t point at it.”
Dorna looked at her talisman, then at Kel. “We did?”
Kel nodded. “Uncle Vezalis lives back on Archer Street,” he said, pointing back the way they had come. “A block north of Smallgate Street. I don’t think Ezak would trust his uncle with stolen magic in the house.”