So much for an easy escape.
As guards yelled and dogs barked, I climbed to the roof in half a heartbeat.Slate tiles slick with evening dew made every step treacherous and potentially my last.I skittered gingerly to the peak and tiptoed along the narrow top ridge.As I raced toward the end of the building, guards poured out of dormer windows on either side.It was an impossibly far jump to the next roof.Why did rich people’s alleyways have to be so damn wide?
Guards scrambled up the slope, slipping on the tiles and reaching for my feet as I danced above them.
One guard leapt, grasping my ankle as he fell forward.“Gotcha, ya little runt!”
I frantically shook my leg, trying to keep my balance.His grip slipped on my blood-soaked ankle.Despite the pain, I laughed at my bad luck turned good.
With guards closing in all around me, I had only a moment to decide my fate.The jump to the next rooftop was too far.The drop to the ground was too long.I’d never survive.
Across the street and one story down, a wooden balcony jutted out, perhaps just close enough for me to reach.Running as fast as I could along the ridge, I kicked off the edge of the roof with every ounce of strength I had, and leapt into the unknown, hoping for the best.
I stretched out my hands, grabbing for the railing.My body slammed against the balcony, knocking the breath from my lungs and making me retch.Cracking sounds rang out as the planks beneath my fingers splintered.The world tilted.The entire structure collapsed under my weight, and I dropped to the ground, tumbling into a hay trough amidst a shower of broken wood.
The trough broke my fall—barely.My head slammed back against the hard surface, and stars burst behind my eyes.Splinters of the balcony rained down as darkness threatened to overtake me, and the fingers of unconsciousness tickled my senses, tempting me to succumb to the darkness.Only the hollering guards dragged me back from the edge.I jumped out of the trough, fighting my nausea, the pain in my ankle, and my swimming head as I raced down the alley.
“He went this way!”a voice called out over the barking of dogs.
My breathing was heavy, and my limbs felt weighed down with lead.The guards were closing in fast, and outrunning them would be next to impossible.I could think of only one way to escape, and I wasn’t happy about it.At the next side alley, I jump-kicked off the edge of a building to keep up my momentum.
At the end of the alley was a hole barely big enough to slip through that led deep underground.
The storm drains of the city of Analon were famous throughout Velmorra, a modern marvel built to prevent floods during the torrential spring rains.They had the bonus of being a convenient—albeit claustrophobic—escape route.As I ran toward the hole, I took off my pack and held it over my head.It would be a tight fit, and I needed to be as narrow as possible.
The guards chased behind me as I leapt toward the hole feetfirst.Direct hit.I slid down the pipe, which was barely large enough to fit my slender frame, and prayed that it didn’t narrow too much on the way down.Getting wedged in a drainpipe was the stuff of nightmares.
What I hadn’t anticipated was how an open gash on my leg would feel against the rough stone as I slid down.Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.I screamed out in pain.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a handful of seconds, I dropped into a massive tunnel made of stone.My feet splashed into a sluggish and musty stream of water.
No sound came from the hole above.None of the guards could fit through it, even if they wanted to follow me, and the stale air covered my scent from the dogs.I was safe for the moment.
A rodent scurried along the edge of the stream, pausing long enough to look up and sniff, wriggling its nose at me.
“Well, you don’t smell great either,” I said.The rat scurried away without a sound.
I could have left the drains at the nearest exit, but I continued southward toward the Wharf District and the Charred Snake.Better to stay down here a little longer than go topside too early and get my head chopped off.Plus, I needed time to think.
I’d never had such a narrow escape.I still didn’t know how the guards had discovered me.My mind drifted to the thief with the golden eyes.A few details were gnawing at my thoughts.
First, I had never met a soul who could best me in the shadow arts, and yet this thief had run circles around me.Very intriguing.Very worrying.
Second, those golden eyes of his had almost seemed to glow.The image stuck in my mind.And why did the smell of ozone and citrus follow him around?
Oddest of all, he hadn’t cared about the gold.He had wanted only the book, which meant he traded in information.
I rubbed the edge of the parchment he’d left me, still safe in my breast pocket.At home, I’d have the ingredients, the fire, and the quiet calm I needed to decipher it.I was eager to learn its secrets, but first I had a few stops to make.
When I finally emerged from the sewers, I found myself at the edge of the Merchant District, right near the Wharf District.Blood still flowed from the wound in my leg.I wouldn’t get far without attracting attention.I could use a good scrub anyway, so I looked for a place to clean up.
Analon was famous for its luxurious baths, and one of them was only a short walk away.Though they were exclusively for the high-born, one could usually gain admittance with the proper form of persuasion.As I approached the marble-arched entrance, the attendant at the front eyed me suspiciously, but he quickly looked the other way after a few coins made their way from my bag to his hand.
The air was thick with steam, obscuring me from prying eyes.Vague shapes moved through the mist hanging over the vast marble pools.I stripped off my clothes and headed for the nearest bath.
My skin tingled as I stepped into the piping-hot water.Once submerged, I scrubbed as best I could, taking particular care to clean the gash on my calf.It was only skin deep, but it still stung like all the hells of the world combined.
One vial in my belt contained an excellent antiseptic and cauterizer, something my father had taught me to craft when I was younger.He’d been a brilliant man and our town’s local physician.But the local townsfolk had leered when he’d set a broken leg or used a salve on a wound, whispering “wizard” under their breath.They were gullible fools.
