Algar was right. Thisisfast.
Hope blossoms in my chest, and my heart races a bit quicker…until the whispershade fades again.
“Hold on,” Thane calls, pressing his back to the nearest building.
“Damn it, Thane!” Algar hisses, immediately rushing over to stand next to him.
“Hullo,” a small voice says seconds later.
I gasp, and Thane yanks out his sword, spinning to find the source of the voice.
A man emerges—no, aboy. He can’t be any older than his fourteenth or fifteenth year. He’s wearing a ratty linen tunic that touches his knees and a faded blue scarf on his head.
“Who are you?” Thane angles his sword at him.
The boy studies Thane’s sword before blinking at me and Algar. When he sees Pearl and Zephra, his eyes sparkle. “Is that a maobi?” he marvels.
Thane drops his sword a notch. “You need to go.”
“I have never seen one in real life.” The boy ignores Thane as he takes a step closer. “I’ve only ever read about them—in the library usually. One of the sorceress teachers used to create images of them with her magic.”
I look between him and Thane, who is gripping the hilt of his sword hard enough to make his knuckles protrude while surveilling the area. He seems unsure whether to treat this boy as a threat or deem him innocent.
“Would you like to pet her?” Algar asks, stepping in front of Thane. He’s also noticed how uneasy Thane is with this whole situation.
“Algar, we don’t have time for this,” Thane hisses.
“It’ll only be a second. You have to restore your energy anyway.” Algar shrugs him off, and the boy lights up even more as he brings Zephra closer. She clicks her teeth when the boy sticks out a hand.
“Easy,” Algar whispers. “Slow movements—and only rub her body. She’s picky about how her head is touched.”
“Right. Of course. Sorry.” The boy reaches in slower this time, and Zephra cocks her head. His smile widens as his tan fingers find their way to her fur and caress it. “Wow,” he breathes, laughing. “She is so soft. You are such a lucky man.”
I can’t help smiling at the exchange as a warm feeling comes over me. Seeing the proud smile Algar wears. The brightness in the boy’s eyes. Their shared interest in Zephra. Perhaps I’ve read Algar all wrong and shouldn’t write him off as some lowly thief. He seems like a person who genuinely cares about others in need.
“What’s your name?” asks Algar.
“I am Dulan.”
Zephra bounces up to Algar’s shoulder, and he folds his arms. “Are you going to snitch on us, Dulan?”
Dulan’s excitement morphs to pure shock. “Of course not.”
“How can we be sure?” Thane narrows his eyes at him. “You turn us strangers in, and you could get a good bit of coin.” He may as well have stabbed the boy with how sharp his tone is.
“Well, in that case, I should turn myself in, too.” Dulan releases an anxious laugh. Then he gestures behind him. “My nan lives in that building. She is sick, but the medicine she needs is not allowed in Ruvain. They don’t want us getting better on our own, you see? They want us to keep paying their healers more and more money so they can pocket it. So sometimes I have to sneak to Meriva or Winstoft to get it.” The boy digs into his pocket and fishes out a glass vial with shimmering green liquid in it.
Thane studies it while Algar mumbles, “I see.”
“Are you trying to reach the tunnels?” Dulan asks.
“We are.” I move past Thane. “Is that where you’re going?”
“I just came from there. But I have to say, this route you are taking is risky. Many watchers in the towers. Follow me. I know a quicker way.”
“No, we’re good,” Thane retorts.
“Sure,” I respond at the same time.
