Kallist scowled, lowering his head between his knees as he struggled for breath. "What were they doing, anyway? They don't come out in the day, and they certainly don't summon elementals to waylay travelers!"
"Unless they're bribed to," Liliana commented. "Greedy little bastards."
"Semner?"
"Who else? Probably decided to make sure we couldn't follow him, if we managed to get away from his thugs. Even he's not stupid enough to assume we're no threat to him, and it wouldn't have been hard to figure out where we'd pass. It's not like we had a lot of routes to choose from."
Kallist opened his mouth to ask another question, snapped his teeth together when he lifted his head and finally got a good look at the woman beside him. Her flesh was pale and clammy, her entire body drenched. Even sitting slumped over as she was, her hands shook with exhaustion.
"You don't look well," Kallist said brilliantly.
"I need to rest," she admitted, and Kallist knew she didn't just mean physically. A summoning such as the one she'd invoked… Her essence must be dry as parchment. The swampy earth beneath Avaric was reasonably mana-rich and particularly suited to Liliana's style of magic-it was one of the reasons they'd moved there after falling out with Jace-but they were traveling, slowly but surely, away from it as they headed toward Favarial. Her recovery would take time.
Time that the sudden burst of frenetic drumming from deep within the echoing sewers told them they did not have.
Leaning on one another, each gasping for air and struggling for strength, they rose. One step forward, a second…
"Damn it!" Kallist clenched his fists in helpless frustration and failed to notice Liliana's hiss of pain as he squeezed her smaller hand in his. "The little bastards stole the pack!"
Every supply he had brought, every morsel of food, every comfort, had been in the backpack that he left behind after the angel pried him from the clinging sewage. And of that pack, there was no sign at all.
"We could try to get it back," Liliana suggested. "They're just sewer goblins."
It was an empty offer, and they both knew it. Kallist merely shook his head, and the weary couple shuffled their way along the urban chasm, struggling to leave behind the pounding drums, and the foul things that woke to their call.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was hardly one of Ravnica's richest districts. It lacked the impossibly wide avenues, lit by permanent lanterns of mystic lights. It had none of the towers that reached so high the clouds themselves struggled to climb them, nor the sweeping arches and delicate bridges that formed layer upon layer of city, stacked one atop the next until the ground was invisible from the top.
But compared to cities on most other worlds, and certainly compared to the poorer districts such as Avaric, Favarial was lavish to the point of extravagance.
Just as it had done with the hills, the mountains, and the swamps, Ravnica had annexed and absorbed the world's lakes without so much as a hiccup. Favarial was built above the surface of a deep body of fresh water the size of a small sea. The avenues and plazas stood supported by pylons that dug deep into the lake's murky floor, the buildings on great spans supported by those avenues and plazas. Unless one stood at the side of a roadway and deliberately looked over the edge, one might never notice the lake at all. Great bridges connected it to the mainland, allowing travelers and commerce to come and go at will.
Indeed, it was the lake itself that provided most of the region's commerce. The surrounding municipalities purchased much of their fresh water from Favarial, whose River Guild-not one of the true guilds of the past, by any stretch, but powerful enough in its home territory-charged an arm and a leg to keep the rivers flowing. Let a neighbor fail to make a payment and the dams slammed shut.
As this made Favarial an economic powerhouse, it was a popular destination for merchants, shoppers, and travelers alike. Thus, as the weary mages drew nearer their destination, as the skies finally cleared and the sun dried the sodden cobblestones, they found themselves joined by travelers from other communities. First a trickle, and then a veritable deluge as road after road joined the main avenue; travelers on foot, in wagons, on horses or great lizards, even the occasional domesticated wolf. Most were human, in this part of Ravnica, though some few were elves or viashino lizard-men, and none gave Kallist or Liliana a second glance as they took their place at the back of the line.
For two and a half days, the fatigued couple had lived on rainwater and what food was available in the grimy bazaars of the poor neighborhoods through which they'd passed. The gamey taste of ivysnake still clung to Kallist's mouth, possibly because he still had a thin strand of the stuff stuck between two back teeth. The first night they'd been forced to camp in an alley, huddled together against the rain and the garbage, though they'd thankfully reached an area affluent enough to offer an inn on the second night. Between Liliana's lingering exhaustion and the fact that they had precisely two crossbow bolts to their names (the others having been in the stolen pack), Kallist could only give thanks they'd suffered no further attacks in their travels.
And now that they'd finally arrived, as the zeniths of the highest buildings soared into view, Kallist remembered just how woefully unimpressive the district actually was. Yes, the people of the backwaters like Avaric found it imposing, but for a man born to the towering spires of richer neighborhoods, Favarial inspired only a resounding "Eh."
The district's defenses, such as they were, consisted of heavy iron gates at the end of every bridge, and a low wall providing some measure of security from the lake itself. Guards stood post at those gates, jagged halberds and twin-pronged spears ready to repulse an attack that would never come, and otherwise did nothing worthwhile. None bothered to check on or question passing travelers, for what was there to check for?
Shuffle. Step. Wait. Step. Wait. Shuffle. The line inched forward, and Kallist cursed every wasted minute, every pause. When Liliana leaned close and said, "It might be tough, but I could try to call something up to eat our way to the front of the line," he could conjure only a wan smile.
As they neared, the temperature rose, the sun reflecting harshly from the still waters and lingering in an air that showed no interest at all in providing a breeze. It was still preferable to days spent soaking in the mosquito-spawning rain-but not by much. And only as they approached the gate did the din of the inner streets wash over them. Again, not as deafening or oppressive as Kallist had felt in other, larger districts, but after so long in Avaric, it was disconcerting enough.
Hot, loud, bright, and smelly. So self-pityingly miserable was Kallist as he finally passed through the gate, he failed to notice one of the guards staring with abnormal intensity at him and his companion, before the press of the crowd blocked the armored woman from view.
All that said… It looked like home to him, at least more so than Avaric ever had. Ornate carvings adorned the columns and high arches of the monolithic buildings- many of which were sculpted from a strange, aquatic-blue stone that gleamed like the lake below-and pennants hung limply from minarets of stone or crystal. The people here were dressed in a variety of bright, jovial colors, commonly seen among the middle classes who wanted to show that they could afford such frivolities as rich and cheerful dyes.
And there were so very, very many of those people, probably at least half as many on this street alone as dwelt in Avaric entire.
Kallist turned to Liliana, his mouth open to make some disparaging comment that she would doubtless find less pithy than he did, and felt a thrill of panic run through him. His hand lashed out, viper-quick, dragging her to a halt. Before she could so much as squawk a protest, he was walking, casually but quickly, off toward one side of the avenue.