Unguilded (15 page)

“Go.”

Mika pushed Kara—hard—and she stumbled away from the cart, weaving through the crowd. Someone clutched at her, but she slipped away. Her shawl was stripped from her shoulders, but her small pack stayed where it was, bouncing against her back as she ran. She heard footsteps pounding the cobblestones behind her—someone was chasing her. Was it Mika?

Kara darted into an alley, not daring to look to see if Mika was behind her. They’d meet up where they’d agreed—she couldn’t afford to slow down.

The alley jogged left, and she ducked around the corner and stopped, her chest heaving. It was a dead end, but the stone wall on her left had a window, fully open, and without thinking, she dove through it.

Gyda, show me a way out
, she prayed, invoking Gyda as the guide, the pathfinder. She tumbled onto a smooth, tile floor and skidded across it to an open doorway. A cat, hunched over a bowl of water, looked up and raised its head at her.

Kara scrambled to her feet and darted through the doorway, gulping in huge breaths. A shadow passed outside the window. She tiptoed down a short hallway and peered around a corner. She didn’t see anyone, or hear sounds of anyone inside coming to investigate the noise she’d made. The front door was just a few steps down the hall. She had it opened and was out onto the cobbles in seconds.

Right, she had to keep right in order to find the old bridge where she’d meet Mika. On the Old Rillidi side, Mika had said, if they ever got separated. Mika would meet her, she had to believe it, had to. Otherwise she was alone, just like when she’d left Larona.

Kara kept to side streets and alleys, always heading right. When there were no more streets to turn onto, she settled into a steady walk, hoping to be neither too fast nor too slow to arouse suspicion.

Large, stone houses lined the street, their walled-in grounds hidden from view except where iron or wooden gates spanned cobbled drives. Server Guildsmen, their guild patches sewn onto crisp white uniforms, hurried about their tasks, baskets and packages held tight. None of them gave her a second look, and she relaxed a little.

She followed the road as it arced around the tip of Merchant Guild Island. Once, through the wrought iron gate of a manor, she glimpsed the bay, the deep blue of the water contrasting with the grey stone of the house.

Foot traffic increased as the road looped back towards the main road, and the large estates gave way to narrow row houses, their ground floor shop windows crammed with used goods. When she spotted the main road, Kara ducked into an alley.

She peered out and scanned the street. No sign of Mika, but no sign of any pursuit either. She’d wait the few hours until dusk before crossing the bridge.

She’d passed a small, empty park a few streets back, and she went there to wait. A few roses still bloomed, their pink petals edged with brown, and the trailing limbs of the willows scraped the ground. There was a small fountain, but it was dry—brown leaves littered the basin.

Kara sat beneath a willow tree with her back against the rough bark and sipped from her water skin, careful not to drink too much. She didn’t have much left, and Mika had warned her that water was hard to find on Old Rillidi, though of all the islands, it was the only one with natural springs.

As dusk approached, the road filled with people. No longer just Servers, now there were Merchant Guildsmen doubtless returning from work or school. Everyone who lived in these houses, except for the Servers, would be Merchant Guild. Husbands, wives, even the babes in arms, all were Guildsmen.

She eyed the sky through the willow branches. It was time to go—the sun was setting, and the sky had turned a deep blue.

A few people were still on the road, but they ignored her in their own haste to reach their destinations. When she finally stepped out onto the cobbled main street, most of the shops were shuttered and dark. The glow from the tops of tall lamps lit the street—mage mist swirling around them.

She walked a few blocks to the bridge—a solid-looking wooden structure.

Empty now, it was wide enough that two carts could easily pass. More lamps lit the bridge and arched away from her, off into the dark night. A pale orange mist, almost the same colour as the light, twined around each lamp. More mage mist, this time the colour of shadows, ebbed and flowed across the wooden planks of the bridge.

She gently set one foot down on the bridge. The mist puffed away before returning to lap against her shoe. When she knelt and ran a hand through the mist, it billowed away as though blown by a gentle wind. It appeared similar to the mist that had swirled around poor dead Terach, but unlike then she sensed no malevolence within this mist.

She straightened and stepped into the real shadows that surrounded the bridge. She’d wait a few minutes before she crossed, just in case Mika had made it this far and was watching.

Half an hour later it was fully dark. Only two people had passed by on the street, and neither had ventured onto the bridge. With a sigh, Kara stepped out into the light. She couldn’t wait here any longer, she needed to get across and find somewhere safe to spend the night. She desperately hoped that Mika was on the other side—on Old Rillidi Island—waiting for her.

When she stepped onto the bridge, the dark mist ebbed away from her boots. Each step forward sent the mist swirling away from her, uncovering the wooden planks of the bridge beneath it. She leaned over and plunged a hand into the mist only to have it retreat from her touch.

She kicked a foot and watched a wave of mist flow out across the bridge. She imagined that wave traveling all the way to the other side, of another person standing on the bridge wondering what had caused this movement. Except no one else saw the mists. Not her mother, who had a mage mist of her own, not Mika, not anyone else in Rillidi Port or on the ferry. She paused.

Chal Honess, the Seyoyan, had asked her what she saw when she looked out the ferry window. Did he see it too? She scowled. Whatever his talents were, he’d stolen her book. He’d promised to give it back to her, but that seemed impossible now. And now that it was gone, she realized she
had
been thinking of the book as a way to reach her mother. Her mother wanted her dead—did she really think a book would change that? She sighed and started across the bridge.

The end of the bridge was dark, but off to the right she could vaguely see the shoreline of Old Rillidi Island—an even darker mass in the night. She hesitated. Should she stay on the bridge all night? It seemed safer than heading off into the unknown. She wished Mika had told her more about where they were going, but Mika hadn’t wanted to put the people she knew at risk. Instead she’d put
Kara
at risk.

She immediately felt ashamed. Poor Mika had probably been captured and sent off Merchant Guild Island, or worse, locked up in a cell somewhere. And she’d been right to keep that information from Kara, right to try to protect those who risked their lives to trade with her. Kara would just have to make her own contacts, make her own way. She could read and write—those were skills she could trade. Her mother had been correct about
that
at least.

Standing on the bridge would only make her more obvious, so she started walking. Mika had warned her that the area of Old Rillidi that surrounded the Merchant Bridge was rough—it was where Rillidians came to trade for the dangerous, illegal, exotic, and obscure items that they couldn’t find anywhere else in the city.

The mist ended with the bridge, and Kara stepped off into darkness, holding her pack tight against her side. The street under her feet was uneven, and she stumbled a few times. A shadow detached from the side of the bridge, and she heard footsteps scuff the road behind her. She reached into her pack and found her knife and clutched it in her hand.

“Where’re ya going?” a voice asked.

Should she answer? What if all they wanted was some sort of toll? Mika hadn’t mentioned one, but it had been the better part of half a year since she’d been here.

“Visiting friends,” Kara said. There, let them think she was expected.

“Yeah? Who? I know everyone.”

Not a man’s voice though it was male—a youth then. Who else would claim to know everyone? Maybe they’d help her?

“Friends of Mika Gianetta,” she said, forcing any quaver or question out of her voice.

“Gyda’s luck with that one,” the voice said. He was still behind her, not coming any closer, not falling behind. “Heard Mika was caught by Merchants. He’s got no friends on Old Rillidi today—least none that’d admit to it.”

Kara forced herself to keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other. No help, then, not from anyone Mika knew. She really was on her own. She heard the footsteps slide away and barely had time to wonder about it before a door banged open up ahead. She stopped, her knife in her hand. A square of light splashed out onto the road, and she heard the rumble of voices. A figure stumbled to one side of the light.

“Finish yer piss and get back in here,” a voice called out from the structure. “You got my money, and I’m wantin’ it back.”

“It’s my money now,” the shadow at the side of the building replied.

A few moments later, a man stepped into the light and re-entered the building. The door closed, and the street was dark again.

“You don’t want to get mixed up with them,” the youth said, close behind her.

Kara wheeled around, and her hand shot out, knife held high.

The youth laughed.

“That’s not gonna do nothing except make people mad,” he said.

The boy was a few inches shorter than her and not even as old as she’d thought. In the darkened street she couldn’t give him more than thirteen or fourteen years.

“It’s all I have,” she said, feeling defeated. She couldn’t even defend herself against a boy, what hope did she have against an adult. She turned and started to walk forward.

“Don’t go that way,” the boy said. “You’ll be nothing but fair game and fresh meat.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she said. “Unless you’ll help me?”

He sighed, and she turned to look at him.

“You really a friend of Mika’s?”

Kara nodded. “Mika was going to introduce me to someone, but we got separated after we got off the ferry. We were supposed to meet at the old bridge, but he didn’t show. He’s been caught?” Poor Mika. As bad as things looked for her, at least she wasn’t in the hands of the guilds.

“That’s what I heard. Mages are making the other guilds get tough with unguilded, and Merchants are only too happy to oblige. They’ve always hated unguilded traders like Mika. Don’t think they’ll hurt him though. I hear they take their goods and send them back to the mainland.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “He’ll lose some wares, but at least Mika can get Zayeera and head home.”

“You do know Mika,” the boy said. “Can’t say I’ve ever met that burro, but I’ve heard lots of stories.”

“Zayeera saved my life,” she said, remembering the wild run down the mountain.

The boy laughed again. “That’s a tale I wanna hear.”

“I’ll tell you if you help me.” Kara held her breath. If he said no, she didn’t know what she’d do. Probably walk right into danger.

“Yeah,” was the slow reply. “I owe Mika. He’s always been good to me. Come on, we gotta get out of the street before the beer runs out. I’m Vook.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the right, off the uneven cobbles and onto hard packed dirt.

“I’m Kara,” she said, trying not to stumble in the dark.

The moon was up, a half crescent that shed pale light on the path. Wooden buildings, their walls warped and splintered, rose on either side of them.

Vook led her through shadowed alleys and empty lots, skirting any areas that emitted either sound or light. At one point a small dog trotted beside them, eerily silent as it ghosted alongside them. They left it behind when Vook and she jumped a wooden fence. Finger to his lips, Vook urged her to silence. They crept across a yard punctuated by light that streamed from two windows. At the far end, they squeezed between two buildings before they reached another cobbled street. Another turn to the left and she felt Vook relax.

“We should be safe now,” Vook said. “Banditos don’t come out this way, at least not at night.”

“Banditos?”

“Yeah, them that cause all the trouble. Drinking, gambling, murders, fights, drugs, whores. Banditos run them all.”

Vook ran a hand through his tousled hair, and Kara was struck by how world-weary he looked in that moment.

“Unguilded would be safe enough on Old Rillidi if it wasn’t for them. Anyone looking for anything illegal comes here—Guildsmen, unguilded, folk from away.”

“But the guilds wouldn’t allow anything illegal, would they?”

“Huh,” Vook snorted. “You are fresh meat. Merchant Guild backs the banditos. As long as it’s not on their own islands, the guilds are happy enough to let folk kill themselves and each other. Not guild business, they say.”

“But don’t Guild Laws apply to Old Rillidi?”

“No. That’s why us unguilded can live here. No one knows who owns this island. Lore says that a living descendent of the
First Guildsman, Paolo Santonini, owns Old Rillidi, but no one knows who that is. At least not that they’re talking.”