The Missing Traveller

Alister awoke hours before the sun rose the next morning, and shuffled his aching body outside to practice Elin-tor. His arm held Ronan, and the first thing he intended to do was set the hawk free. It would be impossible to hide him once they arrived in Deemstun, and if he were spotted, Alister suspected he’d be seeing Lark much sooner than he planned.

“Get going, then.” Alister held his arm up.

Ronan didn’t move, and Alister’s brow furrowed. The bird had been with him since before the whole Deemstun mess. But he couldn’t take Ronan to a city full of Defenders. Besides, Ronan’s so clever, he’ll probably find Lark again afterwards.

He shook his arm, and Ronan took off with a screech.

“Get out of here!”

The bird disappeared into the fog, and Alister pushed it out of his mind.

He couldn’t do much more than the arm movements for Eagle in the Hurricane, but focused on precision and power. Ethan’s betrayal was on his mind, and he was determined to get it out.

By the time the sun lit up the sky, he was sweating, despite the bitter winter air. Didn’t Ethan know Alister would’ve given him all he could if he’d only asked? Alister threw down his crutch and balanced on his other leg, striking again and again with his staves. Ethan might as well have just handed him to The Smith’s assassins. Alister’s anger burned in his chest, and he blocked the punches of an invisible attacker. Usually he’d only practice for an hour, but he went on, his breath fast and his lungs burning from the cold air. I should’ve known. He used to be a thief, and he needed money. Alister lost his balance and used his injured leg to catch himself. He let his leg collapse under the pain, and suppressed a yell. Instead, he threw the staves across the yard, where they clattered to the ground.

The worst part of all of it was remembering Ethan’s crumpled body, surrounded by the marks he so desperately needed. Alister shook his head and reached for his crutch. He pulled himself up, fetched the staves, and made his way back inside to wash himself. He dried his hair as he walked into the kitchen, where Mirielle and Elisea sat next to each other at the bench, eating an assortment of breads and fruits.

Alister managed a smile. “Morning.” He’d yet to tell Mirielle what happened between Ethan and him, and didn’t plan on it.

They both greeted him, and Mirielle stood. “We should get going, Alister. Our meeting’s across the city, and we don’t have a carriage this time.” She handed him a piece of bread with nuts and other chunks in it.

Elisea threw her hands up. “Oh, you should’ve said something! Emmett could’ve dropped you off before work started.”

“That’s alright.” Alister hobbled over to his pack. He stared at it for a moment. How was he going to carry his pack with his leg in such a state? He looked up at Mirielle, who already had her own pack strewn across her shoulders. “Er…”

“I have just the thing!” Elisea grinned, and all but skipped out the room.

Alister took a bite of the nut loaf Mirielle gave him. “She certainly is cheerful.”

Mirielle smiled. “I’m so glad we could mend our friendship before we left.”

Alister grimaced. And I wish mine wasn’t ruined the same night. What was it he said to Ethan after the Flight? Thanks for standing by me all this time.

“Anyway, you should be more cheerful, too. I thought you liked travelling.”

“I would, if it weren’t for the mess we’re heading into. We don’t even know exactly where Lark is or what he did wrong, and we certainly don’t have the skills to get him out of a highly guarded city under the eyes of a man who’s far more charismatic and likeable than relentlessly ambitious rulers should be.”

“You make a good point. What will we do when we get there?”

Alister shrugged. “Try and find out where he is.”

Before Mirielle could reply, Elisea returned with a wooden wagon. “This should help!”

They lifted Alister’s pack into the wagon and Mirielle took the handle off Alister. “I can pull this.”

“I’m so glad we could help the two of you out this past week,” Elisea said. “It was lovely meeting you, Alister. Emmett feels the same way. Would you mind giving Mirielle and me a moment?”

Alister nodded, unhooked his coat from the rack by the door, put it on, and pulled the hood up. He walked out the door and leaned against his crutch, ensuring his face was concealed from the people passing by. He and Mirielle had a small debate the night before about what he should wear when they headed over to Paintbrush of the Sage. Alister insisted wearing a hooded cloak during the day, with a crutch and limp, would look far too suspicious, but he couldn’t help but agree it was better than bearing his face for Deon Boyce to find. He chewed on the rest of the nut loaf while he waited.

Mirielle walked out after a minute in her own cloak, gave Elisea one last hug, and pulled the covered wagon along the street.

“Come and visit anytime!” Elisea called out behind them. Mirielle waved with a smile at her new friend.

The two of them stuck to the main streets, where plenty of people walked, and chatted until they had no more small-talk left. Alister’s leg panged with every step, even with no weight on it, and he felt bruises developing under his arm where the crutch sat.

“I’ll try and heal it again tonight.” She must have noticed his grimace.

“I don’t want you passing out. I can handle it.”

“I’ll be careful.” Mirielle smirked. “Besides, if you don’t let me, then I’ll just heal it while you’re sleeping.”

Stubborn woman.

After another minute of silence, Mirielle cleared her throat.

“So, do you mind my asking why Ethan darted out so fast last night?”

Even though Ethan betrayed him, he felt it wrong to darken Mirielle’s view of him. She thought he had integrity, and they’d likely never see each other again. What would Alister gain from telling her the truth?

“Alister?”

“I heard you.” He sighed. “I’d rather not say. We had a slight…disagreement, and both felt he should leave.”

“Ah.”

She seemed to pick up on his reluctance to talk, and they walked in near silence for the rest of the day. Mirielle pulled out a thin book to read, and Alister tried to keep his mind off Deemstun, the Defenders, and Ethan, by soaking in Bastium for the last time. The white marble city hall at the centre of Bastium was every bit as amazing as the first time he’d seen it, with Ethan. Alister pushed the thought aside and scanned of the people in the streets again. Deon Boyce wasn’t among them.

The light grew warmer as midday passed. Alister’s stomach growled as he lowered his hood. I hope there’s food there again.

His body protested at the constant walking, covered in bruises and sore muscles as it was. He’d grown used to those carriages Mirielle used to send, or the Perigo’s kite, which turned a tedious walk into a short and exciting trip. Even before he reached Bastium, he had Fog to ride.

At last, they reached the teahouse without any interruptions.

They asked for Mister Black, and were led to the same room as last time. The Smith waited in the corner, his eyes as wide and unblinking as ever.

“Good afternoon. Please, take a seat.” He poured some tea into the two cups opposite him as Mirielle and Alister sat.

The Smith pulled out a large envelope and placed it on the table, next to a tray of food identical to last time. Alister took a piece of fruit and ate while The Smith emptied the envelope, and showed them its contents one sheet at a time. “Here is everything you requested. Seal Cards for both of you with Deemstun’s Seal. Bastium Pass Cards as your second form of identification. An official Deemstun family tree scroll which proves your—or should I say, Alexander and Mirna’s—relation to Lidia Benlin. You may peruse the details in your own time. Last of all is the declaration forms, which my correspondent has already signed under her alias. You’ll need to do the same.” He pressed the forms over to their side of the table and placed a pen down next to them.

Alister scanned the form and signed his false name at the bottom, next to Lidia Benlin’s. Mirielle did the same, and pulled out her satchel.

“Here are the seven marks and two fifths.” She counted out the gold and silver coins. Only four more coins remained in the satchel once she handed the payment over.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you. I have arranged for the two of you to board the overnight lift that travels from Bastium to Deemstun. Your tickets are here. It departs in two hours, and arrives soon after dawn tomorrow. Lidia Benlin will meet you at the gates. She will be disguised as your older cousin, and call you over as soon as she sees you, so keep your faces uncovered.”

He went on to describe the handing over of paperwork, and the building they could stay at for one night until they arranged something else. Alister paid close attention.

“While you’re there, Lidia will educate you on how to act in Deemstun. It operates differently to the rest of the Union. Listen carefully to her, and don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourselves after you part ways. If you begin to make it plain you were never from Deemstun, Lidia will contact me, and we’ll remove you from the city. You would also place her job at risk. Do you understand?”

The two of them nodded. A pit formed in Alister’s stomach from the lie.

“You may leave.”

Mirielle and Alister did as he said, their teacups untouched. The hostess thanked them on their way out, and they made their way to the edge of Estar, where the lift would be. The sky had grown dark, and they inspected the paperwork on the way.

Alister compared Lark’s Seal Card to his newly forged one. “I can’t spot any differences. It’s no wonder The Smith is so expensive.”

“He doesn’t just do forgery, that’s why.” Mirielle studied the picture of Lidia they’d received. “He organises the passage, and doesn’t forget any details.”

They reached the station before long, right up against where the flat of Bastium curved upwards into a sheer cliff face and created a wall for the city, and Alister’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair when he saw the lift they were taking.

It was the size of three of Bastium’s buildings, and decorated with as much care as those in Silvian. The station shone with hundreds of light flasks on the edge of the square, and at least fifty people waited on the countless rows of benches. More people travelled west than Alister realised.

“Tickets?” The conductor asked as they approached, and they showed them. “Boarding doesn’t start for another half hour, but Lowyn will take your belongings to your room now, if you prefer.”

Mirielle smiled. “That’d be wonderful.” A young boy slung her bag over one shoulder, and pulled the wagon with Alister’s bag behind him.

As Alister watched Lowyn step onto the lift, he took a deep breath. Soon, he’d go to sleep, and wake up in Deemstun. It didn’t seem real, after nearly two weeks in Bastium and a month away from Rindor. At last, he was on his way to Lark.

Mirielle cast her eyes around the square. “I’m going to go for a walk along Darley Canal before the lift leaves. Just to get one last look at Bastium. Would you like to come?”

Alister shook his head and leaned against the fence between him and the enormous lift. “I’ll wait around here.”

He watched Mirielle stroll towards the canal, and wandered around the square himself. When will I next see Bastium? He’d become so used to the buildings on a plane, and water running sideways. Alister sat on a bench at the edge of the square and watched the people walking past. What must their lives be like, living in the second most expensive district in Bastium? They certainly wouldn’t be caught up with the Defenders or crazed kite riders.

Alister looked around his shoulder out of paranoia. Deon Boyce wasn’t there. Bastium was larger than any other city, and he was right on the edge of it, but he still raised his hood. He shouldn’t have had it down for as long as he did. Just half an hour longer, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Boyce again. His eyes held with a bearded passer-by for just a moment long enough for Alister to shift uncomfortably, but the man looked away after another second.

Alister sighed and stretched out his wounded leg. Although he’d protested, he was looking forward to Mirielle healing it as best she could in a couple of hours.

Nothing but the shuffle of footsteps behind him alerted Alister, but he turned just in time to be hit hard in the face. He could make out Deon Boyce’s dark grin before everything went black.

Cold. His entire body felt like ice. Alister drew in a breath to yell, but water filled his lungs. His eyes popped open with shock and saw nothing but a blueish blackness. He thrashed around in the water. Sharp pain tore through his leg. He had to propel himself upwards, somehow, but he’d never learnt to swim. A blurred figure reached towards his arm and pulled it up towards the surface, but it was torn away. Alister kicked towards the light. His lungs burned with a strange combination of ice and fire, and his chest felt like it would burst with the need to gasp in air. Alister locked his mouth shut as he rose to the surface.

Finally, his face hit the chilling night air, and he drew in a sharp, rattled breath to fill his burning lungs.

“You lowlife son of a—” The voice came from the middle of the canal, and cut off with a splutter. All Alister could think was to force his legs to kick—his injured leg was numb with the rush he felt—and he made it to the side of the canal.

Alister dragged himself out onto the pavement. He coughed to push the water out of his raw throat. The world was dark and fuzzy, the wind bit a chill through his wet clothes, and the sound of other feet scrambling on the ground didn’t quite register in his mind.

“You don’t know how to use that, boy,” a threatening voice said. Alister drew in shallow breaths of air. His hands came into focus beneath him. Use what? He cast his eyes up the stairs at the bridge, where it was light enough to make out shapes. His eyebrows knitted together when a distant figure brandishing a knife came into a focus. He blinked hard, and when he opened his eyes again, the figure was gone.

“Don’t I?” The second voice, back at the river level, was familiar and confident, but Alister’s mind was fuzzy. “You should tell that to my Rukaen instructor; he’ll be real let down I ain’t even learnt the simplest of weapons after five years of weekly trainin’.”

It can’t be…

“Now I reckon you’ll want to leave this district before I carve my initials into your chest,” the voice went on.

Alister forced his seemingly frozen muscles to move so he could see.

“I ain’t what you’d call the most patient man, Boyce.”

The back of his defender hid Deon Boyce from view, but Alister could make out the kite flier as he strode away. He turned the corner. Alister’s defender sighed with relief and collapsed against the wall, shaking.

“Ethan?” Alister rasped.

His old friend looked down at him, his expression alight with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

Alister asked the first question that came to mind. “You learnt Rukaen?”

Ethan gave a shaky laugh and tentatively put his knife into a small sheath at his ankle. “Not even slightly. But he don’t know that.” He offered a hand, but Alister dragged his own body to stand up against the wall, ignoring the sharp wind and his burning leg.

Ethan retracted his hand and shoved it in his pocket.

Alister winced as he stood straight. “What are you doing here?”

“Besides savin’ your life?” Ethan laughed again. When Alister didn’t crack a smile, Ethan’s own grin dropped. “Alright, I was just makin’ sure you…you know, got here safe. With Boyce lookin’ for you and all that.”

Alister stared at Ethan. Was he a friend, a thief, or a rescuer? Not a friend. Not after what he did. But his own life had been in peril not five minutes before, and hadn’t Ethan been the one to save him?

Alister checked his timepiece, which dripped with water like everything else on him. It had likely stopped working after getting water inside, and so the time could be much later than it read. He had to get to the lift.

He looked up at Ethan, whose eyebrows were pulled together.

“Thank you.” He extended a hand.

Ethan shook his hand with a smile, and laughed once with relief.

They stood for a moment, hands clasped together, regarding each other in silence. Alister’s mouth pulled into a smile. He turned and limped back to the square.

“Why are you wet?” Mirielle exclaimed as she followed Alister down the aisle of the lift.

Alister rolled his eyes. “I decided to go for a swim.” He searched for the number of their room.

“But it’s winter! Aren’t you freezing?”

“Little bit! Where’s our room? Ah.” He stopped outside number eighteen and used the key given to them by the conductor to open the compartment. Atop the room’s wooden floor were two raised panels, which would slide out later to reveal their beds, but for now, served as chairs. Their packs leaned against the wall, and Alister sat on the panel to open his pack.

Mirielle’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll let you change.” She left the compartment.

Alister sighed with relief and leaned on his knees, exhausted. His entire body shook with a mixture of cold and anger. If Mirielle saw him in such a state, she’d panic. He tore out a pair of dry clothes and limped to the water room.

The warm water felt like fire on his icy skin, but within ten minutes he was finally dry, warm, and lying in the mattress he’d pulled the wooden panel out to use. He didn’t even want to look at his leg, but when he was washing, it turned the water red. His jaw ached from Boyce’s hit, but it didn’t crunch on movement.

A knock came from the door.

“You can come in.”

Mirielle walked in and sat at his feet.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” She unwrapped the bandages.

Alister cringed and suppressed a groan at the pain. “Deon Boyce managed to find me after all.”

“What?”

Alister exclaimed when she pulled the bandage in surprise.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, he decided it would be rather clever to throw me into Darley Canal. But Ethan was there.” Mirielle raised her eyebrows, and Alister went on. “He pulled me out of the water, then threatened Boyce with a knife, even though he doesn’t know how to use one. Boyce ran.” Alister clenched his jaw as Mirielle placed her cold hands onto his leg. “Ethan saved my life.”

“What was he doing in De’Estar?” His leg grew cold.

Alister took a breath to keep his voice steady. “He said he wanted to make sure I got here safely. He suspected Boyce would make a move.”

“Ethan is a good friend.” Her eyes closed. His leg turned to fire. Alister gritted his teeth and shut his own eyes. She finally took her hands off and inspected his leg. Alister propped himself up on his elbows to examine the dark red scab which had been a deep cut.

“That should be a lot easier to walk on, but don’t push yourself.” She pulled out a fresh set of bandages from her bag, but struggled to unwrap them. Her eyelids drooped.

Alister took the bandages from her. “Get some rest.”

“Fine.” She pressed the dressing to his leg. “Put that underneath.”

She pulled out the wooden panel on her side of the room, and wrapped herself in the covers. Alister bound the bandages around his leg, until they covered his wound. He tucked it in, extinguished the light flask which lit the room, and leaned back into his bed with a sigh.

The window he could see from his pillow showed nothing more than the shadowed shapes of the cliff. The lift lurched forwards, and the lights of Bastium whirled past. He stared at them until the pain in his leg subsided, before the window became a foggy blackness once more. They’d left Bastium.

Mirielle’s voice was a whisper. “Alister?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you scared?”

He kept his voice steady. “No. We’re doing the right thing. Why, are you?”

Alister forced himself to close his eyes, but his heart hammered in his chest. The sooner he woke; the sooner they would arrive in Deemstun. All he’d worked towards. He opened one eye and looked over at the hatstand near the door. Ronan surely would’ve been perched there, if he hadn’t let the hawk free. Alister shut his eyes again and took deep breaths to slow his heart, torn between desire to rest and reluctance to wake up.

Mirielle’s answer came a full minute later. “I’m terrified.”