Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The slinky feline guided us out of the streets full of houses and into those more focused on commercial prospects. Shop banners and awnings jutted out of random buildings, though some of those that had upper floors showed signs of home life with flower boxes and hanging laundry. The crowds swarmed in from the outer edges of the city and crowded together in a mass of business and buzz. Women congregated in small groups and chatted away on the latest gossip as others looked over the shop merchandise. Drudgery men meandered their way through the masses with heavy packages on their backs. No wonder men were used, as the streets narrowed so much that I could have almost reached out and touched wall to wall with my hands. Even a few small fae folk flitted over the heads of the crowd, their many different wings glistening in the sun.

I was pushed and stepped on, and one especially enthusiastic shove from an old woman tossed me into Ben's arms. I tilted my head back and looked up into his smiling face. "Great city planning."

He chuckled as he set me back on my feet. "The citizens of Thania have little use for such devising. Their focus is, and always has been, trade. The island's position in the middle of the Ceorulus Sea helped create that mindset."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Thania?"

"The name of this capital city," he explained as he looped an arm around my waist. He stood a head taller than most of the native inhabitants and they moved out of the way rather than jostle him for land supremacy. "It roughly translates to ‘second' in the Kalean tongue, it being the second capital city in their history."

"What happened to the first?" I wondered as we pushed our way through a tight spot. "The people stampede it to rubble?"

"Legends say that a fierce storm from the sea destroyed it some thousand years ago," he revealed as our slinky guide meandered us off the busy path and onto a wider side street.

"I guess that makes it too old for even Qita to know anything about it," I mused.

Qita turned his head to one side to catch my attention with one yellow eye. "It is, but my great-grandfur told me the story when I was a kitten."

I had to stifle my laugh at the title to avoid offending the storyteller. "What did he say about it?"

"He said that a great wall of clouds came from the sea and drove inland, leveling everything it came into contact with," Qita revealed as he broke into a cute trot at the attention. "The capital at that time was close to the sea and very few people escaped the wrath of that storm. Many of the buildings were destroyed and the people fled inland where they built the new capital."

"So what caused this huge storm?" I wondered.

Qita shook his head. "Great-grandfur didn't know, but he said there had been trouble in the palace before everything happened and the people spoke of a curse on the king. That's why one of the lesser houses came to the throne and that one was tossed out into the streets."

I glanced up at Ben. "That didn't happen to be your relatives' house, did it?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't say either way. There aren't any first-hand accounts from the palace. It's assumed that many of those inside its walls were killed during the destruction."

Qita bobbed his head. "The king himself only survived because he was outside the city, not that it helped him with the people after he revealed himself to those who survived."

"I bet," I mused as I imagined all the disheveled survivors facing their pristine majesty. "I'm surprised they didn't rip him apart then and there."

"Oh, the king always has some guards around him," Qita pointed out as he turned a sharp corner onto a very narrow street.

The way was so narrow, in fact, that Ben's shoulders brushed against either wall. The ground sloped downward at a steep angle and the path was made up of more uneven steps than a road. The high walls created a tunnel effect around us that was punctuated by the occasional door or window. The crumbling state of the plaster and the piles of refuse told me we weren't in the most fashionable part of the city.

A hideous stench hit my nostrils and I clapped my hand over my nose. "What is that?"

Ben flashed me a mischievous grin. "Let's just say the plumbing isn't the best in this part of the city."

I winced and tried not to think about it. Qita had hurried his steps as we found ourselves traveling down to a large dip in the metropolis. We reached the bottom and discovered a small round courtyard with a well. A few women congregated around the watering hole cleaning their laundry and chatting away. At our coming, however, they cast suspicious looks at us. They wore cloaks and hoods that reminded me of Jania, and more than one sported a wart on their wrinkled face.

"Good evening, ladies," Qita greeted them.

A collective gasp came from the women, and one of their number stabbed a finger at him. "We don't want your kind in here!"

Qita's tail twitched. "And what, pray tail, is wrong with my kind?"

"Bad luck, they is," another chimed in as she spat on the ground. "Ever since the days of the old king."

Qita plopped his butt down and turned his adorable nose up at the women. "Then we shall make this visit as brief as possible. Just tell us what we wish to know and we'll be off."

One of the women studied we three. "What is it yer here for?"

"We wish to know if we might find someone named Dakin," Ben spoke up.

The woman slapped her knee and laughed. "You want to see Dak? What's that old coot done now?"

"He may have some information that we're looking for," Ben told her.

She wrinkled her warty nose and rubbed the fingers of one hand together. "And what's that worth to ya?"

Ben smiled and drew out his coin pouch. Its jingle caught the attention of the other two who jumped to their feet.

"I know where he is!" another of them spoke up as she scrambled toward us.

One of her companions snatched the back of her cloak and yanked her back only to take her place. "Don't go getting greedy now! It's mine to tell them!"

The one who had laughed drew up her cloak and dress, and revealed a rather unshaven and wrinkled leg. The eager pair tripped over her scrawny leg, but the force bowled them all to the ground in a flailing mess of limbs and complaints.

"Get off me, you fools!" the tripped shouted.

"You shouldn't have tripped us then!"

And then's when things got weird. Or should I say, magical.

One of the women balled her hand into a fist, but she didn't swing. Instead, a bright glow of black light emanated out of her hand. She swatted her hand in front of her and the light flew forward like a shock wave. The darkness struck her compatriot in the face and bowled her over. She crashed onto her back and her legs swung up in the air.

The old woman rocked to and fro as her face turned red. "You. . .you. . .you filthy abyad!"

Her attacker laughed at her. "No abyad could do that to you!"

The wronged woman balled her hand into a fist that glowed bright red and threw her own wave at the other woman. Unfortunately, her constant rocking meant her aim was off and the light struck the ‘leader' of their small group in the back of the head. She was flung face-first into the dusty ground. Some of the errant waves swooped past and her toward us. Ben positioned me in front of himself and clamped his hands on my shoulders. The waves swept by and I felt a gentle caress of wind against my arms.

A deadly silence fell over the courtyard as the two other women stared in horror at their fallen compatriot. The one who had struck her managed to swing onto her butt and revealed her wide eyes. "A-Abla? A-are you alright?"

"You didn't kill her, did you, Dania?" the other woman asked her.

Her companion shot her a dark look. "Of course not, Nadia! I didn't put enough strength into it, not after that wretched Thaqiba ceremony!"

The limp form of their comrade shuddered, and the pair let out a gasp. Their wide eyes watched in fascination and fear as Abla climbed onto her arms. She jerked her head up and her face was a picture of fury. Her eyes had an unnatural blackness in them as she whipped her head about to glare at them.

"You fools!" she snapped as, in the same motion, she leapt to her feet and spun around. Both her hands glowed as she stood there trembling. "You abyad!"

Abla flung out her hands and dark orbs shot out. The balls flew into the stomachs of her cohorts and flung them backward. The pair skidded across the ground before they crash-landed against the low well wall. Soft groans floated out of their lips.

Abla stood triumph over their forms as she put her hands on her hips. "That'll teach you to throw your magic around!"