The Missing Traveller

The carriage took less than ten minutes, and Alister suppressed a yawn as he stepped back onto the street. The edge of De’Rogier wasn’t too different from the middle, where The Kite’s Way was, except the street ended instead of disappearing into the distance.

“Marino’s is down the end,” Ethan said. “Most of the places this close to the edge are cheap as anythin’, but if they’re right on the edge, they’re almost as costly as the ones near the centre of Bastium.” Alister hummed in response.

The three of them walked to the end of the street, where only the stone barricade separated them from the cliff.

Alister leaned over the barricade to stare at the familiar open blackness of the fog. “All my life I grew up on the side of the Mount. But it only took a bit over a week in Bastium, and now it actually looks a little strange to see this again.” The cold breeze hit his face, and for a moment, he could pretend it was Rindor’s wind.

Mirielle stood away from the edge and glanced over the stone wall. “I can’t believe you grew up next to that.” She shivered and took another step back.

Ethan raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. “You wouldn’t last a day in a house on this street, would you?”

She glared at him. “Let’s just meet with this Marino fellow.”

Ethan chuckled to himself and knocked on the door of the house they were next to. Mirielle still wore the same sour look she had when she arrived at The Kite’s Way.

The door opened a crack, Ethan introduced himself, and it swung open. In the doorway stood a short but brawny man with slicked back hair and deep-set eyes.

“Ethan. Ain’t seen you in five or six years! You must be keepin’ out of trouble.” The man winked.

Ethan grinned. “What can I say? My pa don’t like me runnin’ ‘round the streets. How are you doin’, Marino?”

Marino laughed. “Your pa? He would know exactly the kind of trouble you’d run into, I reckon.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, but the stocky man waved a dismissive hand. “So, who are your friends? Come in, come in, and have a seat.”

“This is Ali and Mirielle.”

Marino ushered them inside the dim house. Marino sat on one of the seats by the fireplace, and Ethan, Alister and Mirielle squeezed on the lounge opposite him. Aside from the seats, only a desk sat in the corner. Despite this, the room was almost as cramped as Alister’s house back in Rindor.

“Good to meet you.” Marino sat as he eyed both of them. “Would you like somethin’ to drink? Wine, maybe?”

Ethan nodded. “Wine sounds real good.” Marino stamped his foot once.

Before Alister could ask what he was doing, a creak came from the corner of the room, and a slab of the wooden floor flung open. A pale woman with curly black hair emerged from the floor.

“Yes?”

“Fetch us four glasses of wine, if you please. And my book.” The woman nodded and disappeared back into the hole, which must lead to another room beneath the house. “So! Let’s talk business. I can only assume you came here for somethin’ more’n just drinks with an old friend.”

Ethan leaned back into the lounge with a smile. “You assume right. This young man here requires the services of a forger. Don’t suppose you’d be able to tell us who the best forger in the city is?”

The floor opened again, and the woman stepped out with four glasses of red wine grasped between her fingers and a brown leather book under her arm. She passed the wine around without a word, and gave the book to Marino.

He nodded at her. “Thank you, Nehari.” She gave a brief smile before returning to the basement. He sipped his wine and opened the leather-bound book. “I thought as much. All my connections in Bastium are right here in this book, but I don’t need it to tell you who the best forger is. What I do need, however, is some coin.”

Mirielle set her jewelled satchel on her lap, and Ethan frowned at her. The satchel didn’t fit with her woollen dress, or the dingy room. Marino’s dark eyes lit up.

“Hmm. I think four fifths ought to cover it.”

Ethan shot an irritated look at Mirielle, and her hand paused on the satchel. He eyed Marino. “We both know you can do better’n that. A half is plenty for a meetin’.”

Marino narrowed his eyes. “One half might be enough for a name, but if you want me to organise a meetin’ too, that’ll be at least four fifths, like I said.”

Mirielle sniffed quietly beside him, but she didn’t reach for her satchel again. To her, a fifth or tenth probably didn’t make much of a difference. Ethan bartered with Marino until they landed on a price.

Ethan sighed. “Alright, three fifths and a couple of traces is acceptable.” He muttered under his breath something about being robbed and raised his eyebrows expectantly at Mirielle, who opened her satchel and found the right coins.

Alister’s eyebrows shot up when he glimpsed the coins which filled her satchel, including several gold marks. He would be able to pay for a full-priced month at The Riverside Lodge with just the amount of coin he’d seen in there.

Marino pocketed the coins and opened his book. “Best forger in Bastium is someone called The Smith. Don’t ask me for his real name, because even I don’t know it.”

Alister raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know his real name?”

Ethan shot a glare at Alister. They’d agreed he’d do all of the talking. He turned back to Marino. “Sorry about my friend. He doesn’t quite understand the way things work around here.”

Alister suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and sipped the bitter wine.

“That’s alright.” Marino rubbed his beard. “The Smith meets with clients at a teahouse in Al’Estar.” He tore off a small piece of paper from the back of his book and scribbled on it. “Here’s the address. It’s called Paintbrush of the Sage.” Marino handed Ethan the paper. “Hmm. I’ll organise for the meetin’ to take place tomorrow afternoon, two hours past midday. Say you’re meetin’ with Mister Black. If The Smith asks to change the time, I’ll send Nehari to your inn and let you know. What was the name of it, again?”

“The Kite’s Way.”

Marino nodded. “That’s the one. Anyway, I shouldn’t need to. This time of year ain’t as busy for The Smith.” He leaned back into the seat and tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth. “Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

Ethan stood, followed by Mirielle and Alister.

“And you.” Ethan took a step towards the door before hesitating. “Listen, I ran into Nellie the other day. She said you taught her some Rukaen to…defend herself.”

Marino tilted his head, looking curious for the first time. “Aye.”

Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down. “It’s just…do you think she’s safe? I know Rukaen would help her to some extent, but if a group…or someone surprised her…” He stared back at Marino with fierce eyes. “She won’t listen to me, but won’t you tell her she needs to get off the streets? At least at night!”

Marino grinned. “You sound awful concerned ’bout her.”

Ethan’s face reddened; whether it was anger or embarrassment, Alister couldn’t tell. “You know well as I she’s askin’ for trouble, dressin’ like she does!”

“Now look here, Platt.” Marino stood and stooped over Ethan, his grin wiped away by a scowl. “Nelira knows what she doin’. She knows how to protect herself. She don’t need you to rescue her from her life like your father did you, and I don’t need you lookin’ down on her from your new life on account of you thinkin’ you’re better than she.” He crossed his arms and spoke through gritted teeth. “It was a pleasure doin’ business with you.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes, but took a step back and strode out the door Alister held open. Mirielle was right behind him, and Alister followed. The door slammed behind them.

Mirielle nudged Ethan. “Who’s Nellie?”

He glared at her. “None of your burned business. I’ll see you tomorrow at that paintbrush teahouse, Artron.”

Mirielle turned her chin up. “Actually, I planned to send a carriage to pick you both up from The Kite’s Way, and it will take you to my house. If we’ll need as much coin as you say, it’s not wise to carry so much across Bastium—”

“Oh, so you do have some idea of how to carry money wise?” Ethan said sharply. “The way you waved your satchel around, I’d have thought you were as naïve as Ali here on his first week!”

Mirielle’s stare was ice for a moment, before she continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “Al’Estar is only one district over from mine, and Paintbrush of the Sage isn’t far from the edge.”

Alister stepped forward before Ethan could refuse or insult Mirielle further. “That sounds like a good plan. What time should we expect the carriage?”

Mirielle’s eyes slid to him. “Noon. I don’t think this Smith person would appreciate us being late.”

“I think you’re right.”

Ethan muttered something under his breath Alister didn’t catch, but Mirielle seemed to.

“Need I remind you that I’m your only way to even organising this meeting in the first place? You think I had an easy life because I have money? My life wasn’t as perfect as you seem to think it was.”

Ethan laughed darkly. “Oh, please! When have you ever wanted or needed anythin’ you couldn’t have?”

Mirielle drew a shaky breath. “When? For the last seven years I’ve wanted something I couldn’t have. I’d spend all of my family’s money if it would help Alister find Jondar!”

“Then maybe I’ll let the two of you get to Deemstun alone.”

Mirielle scowled at him. “I’m not even going to D—”

“Both of you, stop it!” Alister lowered his voice. “You can’t just talk about this so loudly. Ethan, I know you’re annoyed about Nellie, but we need you with us. You said in there I didn’t know the way things worked around here and you’re right! That’s why you agreed to help in the first place.” Ethan frowned, but didn’t respond. Alister spoke no louder than a whisper. “If you’re going to help me find Lark, you both need to stop bickering. None of our lives have been easy, money or not.” The falling house in the lower districts of Rindor flashed through Alister’s mind. “Let’s agree on that and focus on getting to Deemstun, alright?”

Mirielle folded her arms, but nodded. Ethan rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Whatever you say.”

After Ronan swooped into his room before dawn, Alister went straight back to sleep. He’d missed Elin-tor practice the previous morning after Mirielle turned up at The Kite’s Way, but he was tired from being awake so long. The practice could wait until after sunrise.

When he did begin to go through Eagle in the Hurricane, Ethan joined him in the garden and barely stopped talking as he sat cross-legged on the bench.

“I know coin ain’t everythin’,” he said as Alister held his form as steady as he could, “but you have to admit, havin’ as much as Artron makes everythin’ easier. She just flings that jewelled satchel ’round as if it only has a couple traces in it! The things I’d do with that kind of coin…”

Alister huffed and struck with both of his hands towards the left. “I think she’s gone through more than you realise. She told me the expectations and pressure Al’Silvian puts on their people, and how her parents try to mould her into what they want to see. And with…with Jondar—” The name felt strange at his lips, but it was safer than his alias. “It was much of the same. His father and advisor pushed him to lie and manipulate like—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, rich people got problems, too.” He kicked the ground. “At least they’d be able to pay for what they need to get by.”

Alister didn’t respond. Fillion Platt and his illness was a touchy subject with Ethan. He knew better than to press his friend about that. Instead, he stepped out from Boulder stance into Bel, and his swinging strike followed. “I thought you liked Mirielle, anyway. You called her a fine lady when you first met. You said she’s something else.”

Ethan scoffed. “Aye, she’s got a certain charm about her. But she’s just as spoilt and self-centred as I dreamed someone from Silvian to be. Anyway, I got work to do.” He stood. “Join me in the kitchen when you’re done. We should get as much work done as we can before Artron’s carriage picks us up.”

Alister paused Eagle in the Hurricane to watch Ethan walk back inside, before he paced through the rest of the form. He picked up the two staves he’d planned on practising with and followed Ethan into the inn.

Ethan looked up when Alister walked into the kitchen and rested his staves against the bench. “Here already?”

“Like you said, we should get as much done as possible.” Alister sent him a small smile. Ethan returned it grudgingly, and went back to the dishes as Alister picked up a cloth to dry them.

They finished up in the kitchen, cleaned a couple of rooms which were vacated the previous night, and took some food and tea down to Fillion’s room. Alister waited outside and went through Eagle in the Hurricane in his mind; Ethan didn’t like him to see his father when he was in a bad state.

When Ethan walked out his father’s room and leaned against the wooden panels next to Alister, his eyebrows were pulled down and his jaw locked tight. “He ain’t able to walk today. It’s the worst he’s ever been.” He cleared his throat. “Come on. It’s near noon; I’ll go and tell Errol he needs to cover the front desk.”

Alister didn’t say a word on their way through the inn. Ethan was forced to watch his father deteriorate before his eyes, and at the same time saddled with the burden of running the inn; Alister didn’t think he’d any words of comfort that’d suffice. Instead, he took his two staves and sat at one of the tables in the common room. While he waited for Ethan to return with Errol, he carved a shallow trench in one side of each staff, to imitate Irvine’s staves at the torenn temple.

When he did, only five minutes remained until noon, so he and Ethan waited outside the inn in silence.

“You could always ask Mirielle for the coin for your father’s medicine.”

Ethan was silent as he folded his arms. Just when Alister was about to change the subject, he cleared his throat. “No. I don’t need her charity. ‘Sides, he’ll need it for the rest of his life. I thought of sellin’ the inn to buy some time, but then we got nowhere to live and no way to pay for more medicine.” His knuckles were white in fists. “The healers ain’t seen exactly what he has before, so their medicine mightn’t even work. Ali…” Ethan looked up. “He was laughin’ when I went in there. Uncontrolled laughin’. When I asked what was funny, he couldn’t tell me. It ain’t just his body what the illness is takin’, it’s his mind.” He drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes. “Can we talk about somethin’ else?”

Alister agreed and told the story of his first day in Bastium when he tried to get a room at The Riverside Lodge. Ethan’s mouth twitched when he told him how the mousy innkeeper boasted his inn was one tenth cheaper than the average of De’Von.

He considered telling Ethan more about Gale and Louis, but before he could decide, a carriage pulled up beside the street. The two of them stepped in, confirmed with the driver their destination, and sat in silence as the wheels rolled over the old cobblestone of De’Rogier. Alister pulled the red curtains open and stared out the window as the streets of Bastium went by. It was still so fascinating for Alister to watch, so the time passed quickly. Before long, they reached the centre of the city, and he leaned out the window.

All eight canals and rivers which split the districts of Bastium met in the centre, where they circled around a huge building with several towers. Just the size of it would’ve covered the inner districts of Rindor, and it was built from a white marble. From the street, it was so tall, fog shrouded its highest points.

“What’s that?”

Ethan glanced out the window. “The city hall. Bastium Council and leaders of other cities in the Union meet there, and all papers like Seal Cards go through the headquarters. I’d wager The Smith won’t just make you a Seal Card, he’ll have people placed in the hall to cover his tracks. Anyway, a job there pays more’n most others ’round Bastium.” He stared back at the wall across the carriage and said no more.

Alister couldn’t look away. The carriage rolled over a bridge from De’Rogier to the ground where the hall was and circled around the edges of the districts until it reached the bridge which led to Al’Silvian. Alister’s stare of the city hall was only broken when he realised they entered Al’Silvian.

Marble buildings outnumbered those made of stone, and lined the immaculate streets. The only people who walked outside held a pole connected to a stiff fabric that shaded their faces, or a broad-brimmed hat, even though it was a dry and dim day. From the amount of carriages which manoeuvred around each other, Alister assumed most people travelled on wheels. Tall, shaped trees grew, perfectly spaced, along the sides of the street. Curved metal designs surrounded each light flask, and flowering vines spiralled the poles they hung from.

The carriage from the inn to Mirielle’s home took a little over an hour, but Alister had been so engrossed in his surroundings, it seemed more like half of that. As soon as the boys stepped out of the carriage, Alister’s jaw dropped, because Mirielle didn’t live in a house. She lived in a mansion. The grounds alone spanned about ten times the size of The Kite’s Way, and pristine gardens surrounded the three stories of the grand building.

A door slam caught Alister’s attention. Mirielle stormed out the front door of the mansion with several bags slung across her shoulders. A tall and broad young man with dark hair and darker eyes followed her while he spoke. Mirielle, her cheeks stained with tears and her lips pressed in a thin line, didn’t acknowledge him. Mirielle’s walk quickened, and his voice came into earshot.

“…about time you forgot about Jondar and moved on. As a matter of fact, seven years ago it was time you forgot about that cliff-weed!”

Mirielle stopped in her tracks and rounded on him. “Don’t you dare call him that! He was a better man than you’ll ever be. Nothing you do will ever convince me to be with you again, so stop interfering with my life and leave me alone!” She strode to where Alister and Ethan stood and swept the tears off her cheeks. “Hello, boys. How are you?”

Ethan’s eyebrows pulled right up and Alister’s mouth fell open. Neither of them responded to Mirielle.

The man with the dark eyes stopped following her and his jaw tightened. “Your parents are right. You’re acting like a child. When you’ve come to your senses and you come back to your home, let me know.”

Mirielle laughed humourlessly as she flung her bags into the back of the carriage. “Right. And when you come to your senses and realise your misguided help is actually stopping me from doing what makes me truly happy, then don’t let me know. I never want to see you again.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “If finding a criminal is what makes you happy, then fine. But mark my words, Marinus will just pull you into the trouble he’s in.”

Mirielle spun on her heel. “Didn’t you hear me, Dolton? Leave me alone! Go back to kissing my parents’ shoes!” Dolton opened his mouth to respond, and she lowered her voice to a deadly whisper. “If you say another word, this rock will re-colour your face black and blue.” Alister’s eyes widened at the head-sized stone which levitated over Mirielle’s clawed hand; he hadn’t even noticed it rise from the garden.

Dolton eyed the rock, gave them all a dirty look and strode back to the mansion. The stone dropped to the floor and shattered in half, and Mirielle leaned on the fence for a moment with a pale face.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” She frowned at the stone. “That was tough to lift.”

Alister stared at her. “What exactly just happened?”

Mirielle’s blue eyes were wide with disbelief and let the words stream out in a high, breathy voice. “My parents…they threw me out of home. Dolton…” She glared in the direction of the mansion. “…followed me yesterday to Marino’s and heard what we planned. And, being the meddlesome, slab-faced bharal he is, told my parents. Jondar is…a bit of a touchy topic for them. They were at their breaking point, as my father kept saying.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Shall we?”

She stepped into the carriage without waiting for a response, while Alister and Ethan exchanged alarmed looks before following her in. Mirielle sat on one side, her expression strained as she slipped off her gold bracelet and spun it around again, like she often did when she was stressed. After the display outside, Alister suspected its fluid movements were more due to candra than her hand motions.

Mirielle’s voice was a whisper. “I can’t believe I’ve no home. How did you manage to leave Rindor, Alister?”

Ethan looked at Alister sharply. “Rindor? Ain’t you from Illeryan?”

Alister sighed in irritation. “No, I lied about that. I wasn’t sure the Defenders hadn’t seen me in Delemor, so I chose a city that didn’t come to Bastium by Nepton Road. I’m sorry for lying. It seemed necessary at the time.”

Ethan grinned. “If anythin’, I have more respect for you.”

Alister smiled uneasily. He so often forgot what kind of childhood Ethan had. Lying and cheating were once second nature to him. But if it weren’t for Ethan, we wouldn’t be on our way to meet The Smith.

He pushed his discomfort aside and glanced at the panicked Mirielle who sat opposite him.

Alister turned to Ethan. “Look, can’t she stay—”

“Not if she ain’t payin’ full price.” He sent a wary glance to Mirielle, who was still muttering to herself. “Can you?”

She looked up to him with wide eyes. “I’ve some coin on me…but won’t we need that for The Smith? It’s not much.”

Ethan gave Alister an amused look that, if he followed Alister’s stream of thought, meant he suspected Mirielle’s ‘not much’ was an abundance of coin.

Alister sighed. “You’re right. Perhaps we should wait until after we’ve met with him to decide where you’ll stay. Do you know anyone who would let you stay with them?”

Mirielle straightened hopefully. “That’s right, I can ask Darcie, or Briahan…” She trailed off, listing more names.

“See, you’ll be fine.” Mirielle returned a small smile.

They sat in silence while Mirielle’s breathing slowed and she relaxed her shoulders.

Ethan’s gaze crept from the window to her. “And, ah…so who’s Dolton?” She tensed up at the name, and it seemed all the time spend calming down was reversed.

Her voice was like the higher notes of a violin. “I was with him for a few months after Jondar left. Mostly to stop my parents from hammering me about moving on. He was always jealous of Jondar.” She grimaced. “And when I left him, he kept trying to meddle with my life, especially by telling my parents of my wrongdoings. He was the one who told them I was with Jondar when he came back for three days.”

Alister raised his eyebrows. “And the stone? I’ve seen Enchanters levitate or move small objects move before, but never suspend something so heavy in the air.” The most powerful candra he’d known of were the cheating street gamblers with the cups and the healing of his burn by Estelle.

Mirielle sighed tersely. “Yes, it was difficult, especially in the middle of the day. But I haven’t used candra all day yet, and it usually helps if I’m angry. And I was quite angry.”

“That’s candra too, isn’t it?” Alister pointed at the bracelet, which she continued to spin around.

“Yes.” The bracelet spun above her hand.

Alister didn’t press her anymore, and hid his shock. He didn’t know many experts in candra, but even the most talented wouldn’t attempt what she did. He turned to look out the window, but kept an eye on Mirielle until they arrived at Paintbrush of the Sage. Alister expected the teahouse to look like any other restaurant, but when they told the hostess they were meeting with Mister Black, she showed them into one of the separate rooms along a corridor. They were half an hour early, but she slid the doors open to the last room and bowed as they walked in. In the corner sat a man.