“Obviously.”
“Oh, mistress. It’s crazy. He—”
“He kills people,” she said softly. “The viziers have tracked him. He murders people that don’t seem to be connected. The viziers are confused, but I’m not.” She took a deep breath. “He’s hunting someone in this city, Wyndle. Someone with powers … someone like me.”
Wyndle trailed off, then slowly let out an “aaahh” of understanding.
“Let’s get down to her window,” Lift said, ignoring the farmers and climbing over the cliff’s edge. It was still dark in the city, which was waking up slowly. She shouldn’t be too conspicuous until things got busier.
Wyndle helpfully grew down in front of her, giving her something to cling to. She wasn’t completely sure what drove her. Maybe it was the lure of finding someone else like her, someone who could explain what she was and why her life made no sense these days. Or maybe she just didn’t like the idea of Darkness stalking someone innocent. Somebody who, like her, hadn’t done anything wrong—well, nothing big—except for having powers he thought they shouldn’t.
She pressed her ear against the shutters of the captain’s room. Within, she distinctly heard his voice.
“A young woman,” Darkness said. “Herdazian or Reshi.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain said. “Do you mind? Can I see your papers again?”
“You will find them in order.”
“I just … special operative of the prince? I’ve never heard of the title before.”
“It is an ancient but rarely used designation,” Darkness said. “Explain exactly what this child did.”
“I—”
“Explain again. To me.”
“Well, she gave us quite the runaround, sir. Slipped into our guard post, knocked over our things, stole some food. The big crime was when she dumped that grain into the city. I’m sure she did it on purpose; the merchant has already filed suit against the city guard for willful neglect of duty.”
“His case is weak,” Darkness said. “Because he hadn’t yet been approved for admittance into the city, he didn’t come under your jurisdiction. If anything he needs to file against the highway guard, and classify it as banditry.”
“That’s what I told him!”
“You are not to be blamed, Captain. You faced a force you cannot understand, and which I am not at liberty to explain. I need details, however, as proof. Did she glow?”
“I … well…”
“Did she glow, Captain.”
“Yes. I swear, I am of sound mind. I wasn’t simply seeing things, sir. She glowed. And the grain glowed too, faintly.”
“And she was slippery to the touch?”
“Slicker than if she had been oiled, sir. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“As anticipated. Here, sign this.”
They made some shuffling noises. Lift clung there, ear to the wall, heart pounding. Darkness had a Shardblade. If he suspected she was out here, he could stab through the wall and cut her clean in half.
“Sir?” the guard captain said. “Could you tell me what’s going on here? I feel lost, like a soldier on a battlefield who can’t remember which banner is hers.”
“It is not material for you to know.”
“Um … yes, sir.”
“Watch for the child. Have others do the same, and report to your superiors if she is discovered. I will hear of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Footsteps marked him walking for the door. Before he left, he noted something. “Infused spheres, Captain? You are lucky to have them, these days.”
“I traded for them, sir.”
“And dun ones in the lantern on the wall.”
“They ran out weeks ago, sir. I haven’t replaced them. Is this … relevant, sir?”
“No. Remember your orders, Captain.” He bade her farewell.
The door shut. Lift scrambled up the wall again—trailed by a whimpering Wyndle—and hid there on the top, watching as Darkness stepped out onto the street below. Morning sunlight warmed the back of her neck, and she couldn’t keep herself from trembling.
A black and silver uniform. Dark skin, like he was Makabaki, with a pale patch on one cheek: a birthmark shaped like a crescent.
Dead eyes. Eyes that didn’t care if they were looking at a man, a chull, or a stone. He tucked some papers into his coat pocket, then pulled on his long-cuffed gloves.
“So we’ve found him,” Wyndle whispered. “Now what?”
“Now?” Lift swallowed. “Now we follow him.”
8
TAILING Darkness was a far different experience from tailing the captain. For one, it was daylight now. Still early morning, but light enough that Lift had to worry about being spotted. Fortunately, encountering Darkness had completely burned away the fog of sleepiness she’d felt upon awaking.
At first she tried to stay on the tops of the walls, in the gardens above the city. That proved difficult. Though there were some bridges up here crossing over the slots, they weren’t nearly as common as she needed. Each time Darkness hit an intersection she had a shiver of fear, worrying he’d turn down a path she couldn’t follow without somehow leaping over a huge gap.
Eventually she took the more dangerous route of scrambling down a ladder, then chasing after him within a trench. Fortunately, it seemed that people in here expected some measure of jostling as they moved through the streets. The confines weren’t completely cramped—many of the larger streets had plenty of space. But those walls did enhance the feeling of being boxed in.
Lift had lots of practice with this sort of thing, and she kept the tail inconspicuous. She didn’t pick any pockets, despite several fine opportunities—people who were practically holding their pouches up, demanding them to be taken. If she hadn’t been following Darkness, she might have grabbed a few for old times’ sake.
She didn’t use her awesomeness, which was running out anyway. She hadn’t eaten since last night, and if she didn’t use the power, it eventually vanished. Took about half a day; she didn’t know why.
She dodged around the figures of farmers heading to work, women carrying water, kids skipping to their lessons—where they’d sit in rows and listen to a teacher while doing some menial task, like sewing, to pay for the education. Suckers.
People gave Darkness lots of space, moving away from him like they would a guy whose backside couldn’t help but let everyone know what he’d been eating lately. She smiled at the thought, climbing along the top of some boxes beside a few other urchins. Darkness, though, he wasn’t that normal. She had trouble imagining him eating, or anything like that.
A shopkeeper chased them down off the boxes, but Lift had gotten a good look at Darkness and was able to scurry after him, Wyndle at her side.
Darkness never paused to consider his route, or to look at the wares of street vendors. He seemed to move too quickly for his own steps, like he was melting from shadow to shadow as he strode. She nearly lost sight of him several times, which was bizarre. She’d always been able to keep track of where people were.
Darkness eventually reached a market where they sure had a lot of fruit on display. Looked like someone had planned a really, really big food fight, but had decided to call it off and were reluctantly selling their ammunition. Lift helped herself to a purple fruit—she didn’t know the name—while the shopkeeper was staring, uncomfortably, at Darkness. As people did. It—
“Hey!” the shopkeeper shouted. “Hey, stop!”