The Missing Traveller

Alister woke from Ronan flying through the window just before dawn again, as he had been for the last three nights since he helped Fillion after his fall. It was strange how easy it was to slip into a routine: awoken by Ronan, Elin-tor until breakfast, and the rest of the day split up by mealtimes and working with Ethan, who joked he’d have to kick him out of his room if business picked up. Alister got the impression his jokes held truth.

Once, the inn had a large staff of gardeners, cooks, cleaners, and waiters, but the cost of Fillion’s medicine forced Ethan to dismiss all but four workers. Other than Ethan, who helped out anywhere he was needed, Sarila the cook cleaned and worked at the front desk as well. A couple of servers, Maurice and Laune, gardened and swept between mealtimes. Errol performed as many odd jobs as Ethan. The only mention of Ethan’s mother came in passing when he said he’d be “grateful to have her around”, and Alister hadn’t pressed the subject.

After he asked how the inn got its name, Ethan told him the course of the Tournament of the Skies went right down the street and around the inn.

“Inns are mostly crowdier on Flight Day, but we get lots of extra guests downstairs just eatin’ and drinkin’, so they can watch the kites fly past from inside. So we’re usually a bit better off at the start of the year.”

Alister couldn’t imagine hundreds of kites as they flew past the windows. It was a shame the Tournament of the Skies took place in the middle of summer. How different would things be by then? If it was anything like normal, Alister would have to plan to return to Bastium for the Tournament.

In his plan to get to Deemstun, Alister had come no further. It was easy to become caught up in the countless distractions of Bastium; only in the quieter times of the day, guilt settled over him for forgetting. He could wait until Deemstun relaxed the Seal requirements, but that could be months or even years away. If Baudouin planned to use the Stone’s power to take control of the Union, he might not have much time. It all depended on how close Baudouin was to finding belsandra—if the stone existed in the first place.

Alister needed to decide who to ask for help, for he couldn’t sneak himself into the guarded city. But who is there to help me, and how do I know who I can trust? He’d yet to decide whether he fully trusted Ethan.

Regardless of how he would get into Deemstun, he was sure any way would require more coin than he had. Eugene’s two marks would have run dry if not for Ethan’s discount, but he could never ask Ethan to pay him more.

He needed a plan, and he needed coin. It had been only six days since he arrived in Bastium, and with each day, it became less possible to leave. The gold marks depleted into silver fifths, and copper traces.

The more time Alister spent with Ethan, the more he enjoyed his company. He’d become accustomed to the other boy’s sometimes crass sense of humour, and they talked about their families, plans, and women. When they talked in the kitchen about women, the sarcastic cook Sarila would give them a dirty glance.

Ethan told him of the girl he knew well when they were children, who helped him find Alister’s timepiece. Nellie had gone from a rosy-cheeked girl begging on the streets, to a red-lipped woman with a clinging dress. Ethan had expressed his concern for her welfare on the streets, especially at night, but she ignored his advice.

“Alright, enough about me and that stubborn woman.” Ethan threw the cleaning cloth from the bar at Alister’s face. “You’ve not mentioned any ladies this whole week. Tell me.”

Alister laughed as he used the cloth to wipe down the windows of The Kite’s Way. “There’s nothing to tell. Don’t you think if I had someone back in Illeryan, I wouldn’t have left?”

“Ah, what a lonely life a cliff-crawler leads.” Ethan gave a sarcastic grin, and Alister laughed. His words echoed Lark’s. The merchant, so full of energy and adventure, had his quieter moments, and hadn’t said much more to Alister about it but “I miss her, sometimes”, whoever she was. After letting something like that slip, Lark would change the topic beyond return.

“So there ain’t anyone back home, then?”

Alister frowned at the thought of Estelle. Last time he’d spoken to Gale, friend warned him to stay away from his sister. “There may’ve been. But one of my closest friends was her brother.” Listen to me, saying ‘was’ and just accepting I’ll never see them again. “He’s very protective of her.”

Ethan nodded as he helped Alister with the windows. “That’s a real shame. But you’re a traveller, Ali. You ain’t met any girls along the way?”

A pair of violet eyes crept into Alister’s mind, and he pushed them away. He’d only met the girl twice, and he’d likely never see her again. Just because she called you handsome, doesn’t mean you would ever be able to get a woman like Tarael. An archaeologist, at her age? Her sharp mind, striking beauty, and confidence surely attracted plenty of young men in Zyrusdale. “Perhaps. But I haven’t stayed in any one place for more than a couple of nights.”

Ethan’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Alister tossed the grimy rag back at Ethan’s face, as hard as one could throw a grimy rag. From the words that left his mouth, anyone would assume Ethan strung along a line of women. But his jokes had never proven to be anywhere close to true. So far.

“I did meet a Zyrulian archaeologist on my way here. She was…forward.”

Ethan’s grin widened. “What happened?”

“She said I was handsome, for a village boy.” Alister rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, and Ethan burst out laughing. “What?”

“That’s forward to you?” Ethan managed between laughs. “A compliment? Ali, I don’t know how it is in Illeryan, but here, that ain’t forward. Zyrusdale is likely the same.”

Alister’s face reddened. “Well, how was I to know?”

“How’d you respond?”

“We were interrupted.” Thankfully.

Ethan brought that up throughout the rest of the week whenever he wanted to laugh, much to Alister’s embarrassment.

Alister made the mistake one night of playing cards with Ethan, after they finished cleaning from dinner and found themselves in a rare moment of quiet.

Back in Rindor, Alister managed to win a hand of cards as often as Gale or Louis, but Ethan used to be a street gambler.

Alister narrowed his eyes at Ethan’s sleeves when he bested him again. I’m still not convinced you aren’t cheating.”

Ethan chuckled and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. “And I ain’t convinced you really know how to play cards. You sure you don’t want to bet on this?”

Hours later, after all the guests went to sleep, they continued to play cards and talk. When the light flask at their table burned to the base and faded to a soft glow, Alister asked him about his father.

“I worked the streets for a long while.” Ethan shuffled the cards so expertly it looked like candra. “My pa didn’t seem to mind much, ‘til a lawman brought me home one night.” He grimaced. “I stole his coin pouch, and thought I’d be able to get his timepiece, too. Anyway, my pa lost it. He said he was sendin’ me to the academy first chance he got. We worked on this place—just a house, then—for months, ‘til we turned it into an inn. First week we opened was the week of Flight Day. We earned enough pa put me in the academy that year.” Ethan chuckled again. “I worked the streets for a bit longer after I started, but switchin’ convinced me otherwise. So I stopped seein’ the other street kids and started takin’ my studies serious.”

Alister took the hand Ethan dealt. “How long were you at the academy for?”

Ethan leaned back in his seat as he surveyed his own cards. “Four years. Learnt ‘bout histories and arithmetic and trade. Ain’t no way I could run the inn without all that teachin’. But when I was fifteen, pa’s illness got bad.” He frowned.

“Did you enjoy the studying?”

Ethan glanced up over his cards, and a grin came to his mouth. “It was alright. But the best part was teachin’ the others how to play cards. I made a fair few coins some days. They were worse than you.”

Alister rolled his eyes and played a card Ethan surely wouldn’t be able to trump. But the other boy’s grin widened as he threw his own card down.

The first nights he let Ronan out to fly, Alister had laid awake in the dark hours of the morning, his eyes fixed on the open window as he awaited the bird’s return. But after Ronan returned before dawn, day after day, Alister could open the window and fall asleep without a concern.

So when Alister woke up the next day to light streaming across his face, he bolted upright. His timepiece, which rested on the desk next to his bed, told him three hours already passed since dawn. The hatstand Ronan had taken to was empty.

Alister threw the sheets off and leaped to the open window. The garden of The Kite’s Way was all that was visible, but Alister scoured the sky. He wasn’t sure if he would rather Ronan return now or not. It was a bright day, and the ever present fog wouldn’t reveal the hawk until he was thirty seconds away from the window, but he would still be visible for any watchful Defenders who roamed the streets.

“That rutting bird and his disappearances!”

Alister pulled his breeches and shirt on, shoved his feet into shoes, and tore out of the room, down the stairs past a confused Errol. He pushed the kitchen door open, and thanked the Divine Sarila wasn’t there.

Ethan looked up from his dishes at the door’s slam. He raised an eyebrow at Alister and looked him up and down.

“Your shoes are on the wrong feet, Ali.” His mouth curled into a grin. “You look like you’ve had a whole bottle of wine. This time of the mornin’ is far too early for that. What’s got you in such a frenzy?”

Alister leaned against the doorframe and caught his breath from the sprint. He stared at Ethan. Everyone knows the Defenders are looking for a red-winged hawk and travellers from Delemor. Ethan complained about the Defenders who came in some nights for a drink. His words were often along the lines of, “What’s so burnin’ important about some bird?” He seemed to dislike any figures of authority for nothing more than the fact they held power.

Ethan helped him get his timepiece back, and told him all about how to handle the city. Including not being so blindly trusting. Alister pushed the thought away.

“Swear you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. Including any authorities.” Especially the authorities.

Ethan put down the dish and frowned. “What did you do?”

“Swear to me and I’ll tell you.”

Ethan looked more intrigued by the second. “Alright, I swear.”

Alister told him about Ronan. He left out as much as he could about Lark, but he told Ethan the merchant had found himself in a little trouble with the Defenders, and sent Ronan to Alister to keep him safe.

“A little trouble?” Ethan echoed. “There’ve been Defenders for weeks, in all Bastium’s parts, offerin’ rewards and threatenin’ penalties and the like for givin’ or withholdin’ information.”

Alister grimaced. He’d forgotten about the reward. Ethan may dislike the Defenders and have little respect for law-keepers, but he’d an appreciation for coin, as well as a need for it.

“All for one bird? It takes a dreadful lot of trouble for them to go so far to track down anythin’ or anyone to do with this Lark fellow. By the Divine—”

Sarila strode into the kitchen with a pile of plates, and Ethan stopped mid-sentence.

The cook gave a cynical laugh. “By all means, continue your conversation while I clean up from breakfast. Don’t be feelin’ obliged to stop on account of the stack of dishes that need cleanin’.”

Alister’s heart hammered. His wide eyes found Ethan’s.

Ethan glanced at Sarila. “We were about to clean that bookbinder’s room. He left this mornin’. If I see Errol, I’ll send him your way.”

Sarila muttered to herself as the boys hurried upstairs to the room that did, in fact, need cleaning. Alister studied his friend’s thoughtful expression when the door shut behind them.

“Will you help me find Ronan?” Alister collected the sheets from the bed. “And keep your oath?”

A flash of contemplation, and Ethan laughed. “’Course I will.” He turned away from Alister to put the clean sheets from the cabinet on the bed. “Though I ain’t sure how much help I can be. I’d imagine the Defenders have alerts on all the avian menageries in Bastium for a red-winged hawk. Where else would the bird have gone?”

Alister furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know. He’s such a well-trained bird, he wouldn’t have just flown away unless Lark himself was in Bastium.” His words slowed towards the end of the sentence.

Ethan shook his head. “If they was lookin’ for Lark, they’d have Defenders scourin’ every inn for the man. All we’ve heard about is Ronan. ‘Sides, if he were really destroyin’ property and threatenin’ the leadership like we’ve been told, Deemstun would have him locked right on up.”

Alister nodded. “You’re right.” He pressed his lips together. The likely possibility was unspoken: the Defenders found Ronan. Alister drew an unsteady breath. “So then he was either distracted by something, or…”

Ethan eyed Alister’s expression and spoke slowly. “Let’s go and check some of the gardens.”

Alister suppressed a sigh of relief, the two boys took the sheets to the laundry, and then stopped by Fillion Platt’s room to tell him where they were going—the innkeeper was well enough to man the front desk. They left The Kite’s Way and headed to Joan Canal once more. Alister thought he might’ve been able to find his own way to Al’Rogier by then, but the streets were still so convoluted to him, it was more of a hope than a confidence.

He couldn’t help but search the skies as they crossed over the canal and entered Al’Rogier, but looked down at the buildings when Ethan pointed out the torenn temple. Alister’s rushed pace slowed.

The building’s curved roofs met at a sharp point in the middle, and a large tree with spring-green leaves hung over a section of the roof. The windows were all circular and framed stained glass.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go and see inside?”

We have to keep looking for Ronan. But Alister had never seen a torenn temple; they’d have a complete collection of weapons, including halberds, broadswords, swinging boulders, three-part staves…some Alister had only vague images in his mind of what they could look like from Eugene’s description. There could be people in the temple practicing Elin-tor, Rukaen, Eastern Torenn, the Way of Bacaevan…and likely so many more torenn types, Alister would struggle to remember the names of them all. Perhaps he could learn a new form; Rolling the Boulder had begun to feel repetitive. If only he had more coin, he could buy himself a single-edged sword or two…

“Another day.” Alister’s eyes fixed on the temple. “Once we find Ronan.”

“Alright, then.”

He followed Ethan through the streets of Al’Rogier until they reached one of the gardens. Alister couldn’t believe how huge it was. It made the garden out the back of The Kite’s Way seem the size of a potted plant.

Countless trees created a canopy over rushing streams and fields of grass, where dozens of people sat on mats or on the benches. Rolling hills of grass spread into the distance, dotted by bushes with late autumn flowers. A twisted stone statue boasted its perch in the middle of pond with waters as still as the caves of Wenmire.

Ethan and Alister scoured the treetops and moved on to another garden not half an hour away, on the edge of De’Rogier. With every empty branch, the pit in Alister’s stomach grew. They travelled past the South River and to the De’Von garden, and then over Rowan Canal and looked through the two gardens in Al’Evon. From the amount of walking they did, Alister found himself wanting one of the cycles, even if he would spend more time falling off than riding on it. His wistful stares followed the carriages that passed them by, even more so at the wind-chasers carrying people across the foggy skies, and they travelled from garden to garden across the city of Bastium.

A different man might’ve prodded for more information about why Lark sent Ronan to Alister, but Ethan seemed content to let it slide. Alister glanced at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. If the situation were reversed, Alister wouldn’t be able to stop a flow of questions.

Ethan wasn’t a curious person, Alister realised with surprise.

He almost stopped in his tracks when he realised, also, he would seem as mysterious to Ethan as Lark always had to him. I’m the traveller, now.

Ethan sighed and sat on one of the benches in the Al’Evon garden. Most of the day was spent, and Alister still hadn’t eaten. “I hate to say, but we ain’t never goin’ to find the hawk like this.” He glanced at his timepiece. “It’ll be dark soon, anyway, and it’s best not to be walkin’ ’round after dark.”

Alister groaned. “You’re probably right. I don’t know why Ronan would come to a garden, anyway.”

Only one alternative remained.

Alister clenched his fists and yelled. A couple sitting on a nearby bench stared. “Why did I have to go and let him out at night? Of course the Defenders would be looking for him at all times.”

Ethan punched his arm. “Shut your jaw, gama!” He lowered his voice and looked around the garden. “You don’t know who could be listenin’ in. I don’t see any Defenders here, but you ain’t stupid enough to think none of them would be ununiformed, are you?”

Alister rubbed his arm and glanced at the other people in the garden. None of them looked like Defenders, but then again, he wasn’t sure what a Defender was supposed to look like, aside from the uniform. Ethan was right; he should be less trusting of strangers. The wrong pair of ears overhearing what they talked about could land him in as much trouble as Lark.

“I never used to lose my temper like that.” He sat again with a heavy frown.

Ethan didn’t say anything for a moment. “What changed?”

I killed a girl. But instead he said, “I did.” Ethan didn’t press him for more of an explanation. “Bane of the blight. Lark trusted me enough to send Ronan to me so I could help him, and I go and lose the bird to the Defenders.”

“Do you need the bird? I mean, you got its message…”

Alister grimaced. “Maybe so, but I’m not going to Lark without Ronan.” He clenched his jaw. Ethan didn’t know of his plans in Deemstun, yet. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Ethan gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t ask me. My biggest problem is findin’ enough people to stay at the inn to pay for my pa’s medicine.”

Alister slumped onto the bench next to Ethan. “I wish I could help, but I’ve only just enough coin to pay for another week’s stay at the inn and nothing else, even with your discount.” He sighed. “I came all the way across the Union, and now I’m in Bastium with no idea of what happened to Ronan.”

“All the way ’cross the Union? Illeryan is only twenty or so elevations down, ain’t it?”

Alister ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Weariness from the day loosened his tongue. “It feels like a lot farther to me, that’s all.”

“Right.”

They sat in silence for another minute, before Ethan suggested they return to The Kite’s Way.

“Hmm. I suppose we should.”

They walked in silence, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Maybe there’s someplace I could go to find out if the Defenders really have Ronan? He shook his head. That’d be too suspicious. Surely the Defenders will leave Bastium, having found him. Unless they were looking for him, still. Nearly a week ago, when he visited the House of Travels, the Defender said they were looking for a traveller. Alister grimaced. If the Defenders were still in Bastium tomorrow, that meant they were searching for him. Which meant he would have to leave Bastium. And go where? I can’t return to Rindor. His thoughts haunted him until his head hit the pillow back in The Kite’s Way for what could be the last time.

A sharp tap on his door woke Alister abruptly. His eyes fixed on the window at once, but Ronan wasn’t there. It was my door, he remembered with a yawn, his eyebrows furrowed. The sun hadn’t risen yet.

“Who is it?” His first words of the day were husky. He cleared his throat.

“Someone’s here to see you, Ali.” Ethan’s voice didn’t sound much better than Alister’s. “She’s waitin’ downstairs. And may I say she’s quite a sight.”