“Both human. Henrietta’s harmless. Like most humans, she sees what she wants to see, and as a result, remains blissfully unaware of the Chalandrians living all around her. Samuel is more of a problem. We’ve had a few strange goings on around here in the last few months and he’s starting to realise that not everything is as it seems to be. He hasn’t yet made the link between that and the Gate of Chalandros, but it won’t be too long. The only real question is which way he’ll side when he figures it out.”
“If you get a chance, maybe give Lynette a heads up about him. She knows to be cautious about what she says, but if Samuel’s an old friend, she might let her guard down a little too much.”
“You’re sure she’s trustworthy?” Gosta had a right to be wary. By warning Lynette about Samuel, Gosta would be effectively admitting that she knew far more than she was supposed to about Chalandros.
“I’m trusting her with the lives of my entire team,” Koradan told her seriously. “For a salas captain, it doesn’t get any more serious than that.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
An hour later, Koradan followed Nerik along the wide streets of Minia, feeling a pang of jealousy for these humans and their unexpectedly beautiful world. The architecture of the city was different from Iddishmeil, but it was clearly crafted by skilled stonemasons, and the layout was surprisingly similar – a central area with plenty of shops, tradespeople’s workshops and government offices, surrounded by densely packed houses that became both smaller and more spread out as they got further from the city centre. Now that it was heading for late morning, the streets were full of people bustling about, buying food from carts, chatting with friends. When Koradan had been a young boy, Iddishmeil had been much the same, beautiful and busy, full of hope and promise. Now, it was a ruin of a city, no more shops, people scavenging for scraps amongst the piles of refuse.
Here, though, it was clear that the people cared about their city. The streets were clean, there was a minimal smell of manure, and as they strode past what seemed to be the main town square, he could see streamers and colourful lanterns hung up to bring a touch of cheer to the place. Hedges and flowerbeds were neatly kept in front of a number of shops, and the shop signs were brightly painted, swinging lazily in a slight breeze.
Koradan glanced sideways at his young guide. Nerik, though he looked human, had the typical build of an infernal – which was to say he was short and slender, with a restless kind of energy that rarely let him stand still. His short, jet-black hair fell into his eyes and his limbs seemed just a fraction too long for his body.
How many more Chalandrians were here, hiding in plain sight? Had they already passed some on the street, with Koradan none the wiser?
“Everything all right?” Nerik asked him, glancing over with a knowing smile.
“Yeah. Yes. It’s just… It’s the first time I’ve been… um… in a big city,” he said, hoping Nerik would catch his drift. It wasn’t the size of the city that was the issue – Iddishmeil had been bigger at it’s peak, after all – but rather that this one was full of humans. “I’m just feeling a bitconspicuous, if you know what I mean.” How was it possible that not a single one of these people could tell what he really was?
“You blend in perfectly,” Nerik assured him. “How long have you been here?”
“Three days,” Koradan replied.
Nerik gave a low whistle. “Not really long enough to get acclimatised, is it? On the plus side, though, we have nice weather here. I couldn’t believe it the first time I felt a real winter. They havesnow.” He said it in a conspiratorial whisper, as if it was the biggest secret he knew.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Koradan said, realising that it was true. Now that he and his men had a tentative ‘home’, they could start making plans for the future. “And on that note, once we’re done at the jewellers, I’m going to need a tailor. We didn’t bring much in the way of clothing with us.”
“Consider it done,” Nerik said. “I know just the man for the job. But here we are. One jeweller, ready to serve all of your needs.” He opened the door of the shop and held it for Koradan, gesturing gallantly for him to go inside.
Koradan did, instinctively ducking his head as he stepped into the cramped space. The walls were lined with counters, and throughout the room, more display stands took up much of the available floor space. Every shelf and counter was artistically designed to display jewels in a dazzling array of colours – emeralds, sapphires, rubies, opals, and much more.
There was one other customer in the shop, a young woman with long, blonde hair and a low-cut blouse that showed more skin than it covered. “Hey, Liatra,” Nerik greeted her amicably.
“Morning, Nerik. And yes, before you ask, I’m back hereagain. Henrick told me to go and buy another necklace,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s been bothering me every other day since Nalyx left. You’d think that that would be difficult, since he’s busy at the gate at the moment, but no, he keeps sending little notes with the daily messenger. By the gods, doesn’t he have better things to be worrying about right now?”
“Henrick is one of the warriors,” Nerik filled Koradan in. “And he’s doing his darn best to woo Liatra here. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s as fond of him as he is of her,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice.
“He’s an oaf,” Liatra declared. “I always said he’s not as bad as his brother, but lately, he’s quickly becoming just as entitled and belligerent. But don’t mind me,” she said, waving Nerik away while she went back to perusing the shelves. “I know there are actually far more important things to whine about than getting another new piece of jewellery.”
Nerik grinned and left her to her task. He headed over to the rear of the shop instead. “Kit? You in?” he called. A dog on the back step stood up, whining at Nerik. “Yes, hello, Maky,” Nerik said with a smile. “I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just got important business for Kit. Is she around?”
“Woof!” Maky declared, wagging his tail.
“Maky’s a bit like Ashd,” Nerik told Koradan. “Friendly but protective. Isn’t that right, Maky?”
The reference caught Koradan off-guard. Nerik hadn’t been around Ashd for nearly long enough to get a feel for his character… but then he realised what Nerik was getting at with the comparison. Was Maky a fire-dog? Yet another Chalandrian right under his nose?
Are you a fire-dog?he asked the creature, finding the mental link surprisingly easy to forge.
Ha! So clever. I like you. You smell like forest. But not enough like smoke. I like smoke. What are you?
I’m a salas, Koradan told him. Like unicorns, fire-dogs spoke mostly in words, but unlike their equine equivalents, they were far less refined and cultured. They tended to say what they thought and were prone to getting over-excited about mundane things.
Do you taste good?Maky asked, tilting his head to the side.Can I lick you?
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a voice said, interrupting the conversation. A woman emerged from the curtain that blocked off the rear of the shop from the public area, with greying hair pulled back in a bun. She was dressed in a long, colourful skirt and had an abundance of bracelets up both arms, with several rings on each hand as well. “Nerik, how lovely to see you. And your friend?”
