“I mean it, Lily. It isnae safe out there.”
“Fine,” Lily snapped, suddenly angry. “Whatever you say.” She swiveled on the bench and stared at the fire.
Oskar opened his mouth as though to speak, but snapped his mouth shut. With one last glance, he turned and left.
In a fit of frustration, Lily picked up a log from the basket and threw it after him. It clattered into the door with a satisfying thump. Bloody infuriating man!
She moved over to the leaded window and gazed out at the streets of the waking city.
I’ve probably walked those exact streets out there,she thought to herself.Hundreds of years from now.
It was a very strange feeling. How could something so familiar be so utterly different?
She cut herself some slices of coarse dark bread from the loaf that sat on the table, slathered them with butter and then dragged the bench over to the window and perched herself on it while she ate her breakfast, watching the activity outside as she did so.
The people going about their day were dressed nothing like what she was used to, but for all that, it could have been any modern city waking up. People were rushing around on errands, children were zooming around getting under people’s feet, and there was that background chatter that seemed to fill every street where there was human habitation.
She took a bite of her bread and butter and chewed mechanically. Across the street, three men were busy rolling barrels towards a trapdoor that led down to a cellar. One of the barrels had caught on something and sprung a leak. An amber colored liquid that she guessed was ale was leaking onto the street while the men tried their best to plug it, all the while shouting at each other.
Two women, each holding the hand of a small child, gossiped in front of the open door of a wooden house and laughed uproariously. Neither seemed to notice the two small children pulling faces and trying to kick each other. A large man with thinning, brown hair and sallow skin hurried up the street, hobbling around the men with the barrels on an errand of his own.
Lily leaned forward. Something about that man looked familiar. Where had she seen him before? Then it hit her like a slap.
Alfred Brewer!
She was off the bench before she could think. She must be mistaken. Alfred Brewer couldn’t be here. Could he? She grabbed her cloak from the peg, threw it around her shoulders, and hurried out into the street. There she paused, shielding her eyes against the shafts of sunlight pouring through the gaps between the buildings. She could just make out the shape of Alfred Brewer disappearing up the street. Itwashim! He was even using the crutch she’d had Oskar make for him!
Her heart was suddenly racing. What was he doing here? Where were Magnus and Emeric?
She pulled the door shut behind her and dashed across the street after Alfred. Urgency simmered in her belly, drowning out the warning in her head. Part of her knew that following Alfred was not a good idea but she ignored it.
He was perhaps a hundred meters ahead of her and going downhill. Wrapping her cloak around her and pulling up her hood, Lily followed. She kept close to the buildings as much as possible so their shadows would hide her if Alfred happened to glance back. Luckily, he didn’t. He seemed intent on a destination.
As she moved further downhill, Lily found herself descending into a maze of narrow alleys and crooked streets. The buildings here were aged and decrepit, their exteriors weathered and worn. The streets were a patchwork of uneven stones, worn smooth by countless feet over the centuries. The air grew thicker, with the scent of wood smoke and unwashed bodies.
Her unease grew. Perhaps she ought to return to the townhouse and wait for Oskar. But if she did that, they might never find Alfred Brewer again. This labyrinth of closes and lanes would be an easy place to lose a person in and then they’d never know what he was up to.
Suddenly, Lily stopped in her tracks. Alfred Brewer was standing in the entrance of a narrow lane, talking to a tall man in a heavy black cloak. The man’s face was obscured by the shadow of his hood, so she could make out no features.
Lily quickly ducked behind an old stone wall and crouched low, peering over the top. The man in black whispered something to Alfred, and Alfred pulled out a small pouch and handed it over. The black-cloaked figure nodded, then turned and disappeared down the alleyway.
Lily hardly dared to breathe. What was going on here? Nothing good, that’s for sure.
With her mind racing, she slowly eased herself around the wall and followed as Alfred Brewer set off again. Up ahead, he turned a corner out of sight. Cursing under her breath, Lily picked up her pace. She turned the corner and stopped. The alley was empty. She spun around quickly, looking in all directions, but there was no sign of Alfred Brewer.
Here, tall, rickety buildings leaned together, all but cutting out the light, and the narrow alley was strewn with filth and refuse. Behind her, a small close opened out with doors around a courtyard and washing strung on lines between the walls.
She bit her lip, unsure what to do.
“Are ye lost, little lady?”
Lily spun to find a burly man standing behind her. It was not Alfred Brewer. This man had a shaved head, a thick neck, and a scar through his lip. His expression was not friendly.
“I...um...no...I’m fine,” she stammered, backing away.
She bumped against something and spun to find another man standing behind her. He had lank black hair and a leering grin.
“Careful, darlin,” he said. “Ye need to watch where ye are going.”
