Lex dodged through crowds that seemed to magically part for him whilst Mr Schmidt and the guards at his heels had to fight their way through the throngs of seamen and merchants. Carts that did not in any way hinder Lex seemed to get right in the way of Schmidt and his henchmen. At one point, an entire market stall went over and, glancing over his shoulder, Lex distinctly saw his employer slipping about on the ground covered in slimy squid tentacles. He did not look very happy about it.
Lex grinned, kept his head down and pushed on through the midnight markets to the docks. Her Ladyship was living up to her side of the bargain tonight. Luck was on his side. The trouble was that luck could only take a person so far and Lex was sometimes in danger of forgetting that in the heady thrill of having everything going his way. ‘Good luck’ did not equal ‘invincibility’. Nor did it equal ‘unbeatable’ or ‘unconquerable’ or any other of those impressively God-like sounding words. Luck was what it was — a helping hand and nothing more. For the most part, it was all still up to Lex and his own native wits to escape from any situation that he had willingly launched himself headlong into.
He would buy his passage aboard one of the ships setting sail tonight. Once he was out of Withian territory, the law of the Wither City would have no jurisdiction over him anyway and Mr Schmidt would never be able to find him once he’d escaped to the Eastern Provinces. He would start again somewhere else. He had done it before. With his almost photographic memory and ability to adapt and pick up new skills, Lex was sure he would excel at pretty much anything he put his hand to. It wasn’t arrogance. It would only be arrogance if you didn’t know you were a multi-talented genius. But there was no one else like Lex — he was the best at everything. Everything. And he knew it too.
But it would be the rash actions of an inexperienced amateur to hop onto the nearest ship and set sail for who-knew-where without first providing for the journey and planning for the destination. Money was not a problem for Lex. Quite apart from the money belt and the stash of stolen goods he was carrying in his bag, he was an accomplished enough thief to be sure of surviving wherever he ended up. But there was more to travelling on the Globe than mere money and Lex had learnt long ago that it did not pay to be ill prepared, especially when travelling across provinces. There were things he would have to purchase before leaving the Wither City, the place that had been his home for just under a year.
Although it certainly hadn’t been Lex’s plan to leave the city that night, in some ways he was almost glad that fate had forced his hand. There was nothing like the excitement of running. And there was most definitely nothing like the excitement of being chased! And he had stayed here too long anyway — law and the Wither City had only ever been a means to an end. But before he left, he needed to make his purchases and whilst the midnight markets were the place to buy everything and anything, it would be a tedious bother to have to conduct his shopping in a hasty rush with Mr Schmidt yapping at his heels. Much as Lex was enjoying the chase, he was therefore forced to cut it off short.
He stripped off the distinctive bright red jacket he had donned just for that purpose and paid a cabin boy to put it on and scamper aboard his ship just as it was setting sail. Then he lurked about at the docks, coiling up the ropes with the other dockworkers, as Mr Schmidt burst out onto the wooden planks and gave a visual demonstration of just what exactly the word ‘apoplectic’ means. Although he was keeping his head down, Lex could easily understand the cause of his employer’s rage for Lex had paid the boy with instructions to take off the red coat once he boarded the ship and wave it energetically from the prow until the harbour was out of sight. Mr Schmidt could not fail to see it and, from that distance, he would be unable to tell that the boy was not in fact the iniquitous Lex Trent but a mere cabin boy instead.
The lawyer could have been no more than a dozen paces away but as Lex was wearing the cabin boy’s grubby old cap and jacket, Mr Schmidt would have had no reason to pay him any heed. Lex could have just sidled away into the shadows without any risk of discovery. But then a piece of paper fell from the lawyer’s hand and, because Lex was Lex, he picked it up as Mr Schmidt turned away and hurried after him to tug at his sleeve, raising the tone of his voice and being careful to keep his face hidden beneath the cap.
‘Lost sumfing, guv?’
Mr Schmidt glanced down at the abandoned, useless warrant and snatched it from Lex’s hand with a bad-natured word of thanks. Although, to his credit, he rummaged in his pocket for the customary coin and tossed it to Lex, even if it was with the same lack of grace.
‘Thanks, guv’nor!’ Lex called after him as the lawyer strode off into the throng.
It really was too easy. It was on the tip of his tongue to call out some other parting comment that would give away his identity — just for the pure deliciousness of seeing the look on Schmidt’s already anger-flushed face. But it would be reckless to start the chase off again and Lex forced himself to accept that this one at least would have to remain a private victory.
Lex had always loved the midnight markets. They were a way of life on the Globe and could be found in most western towns and cities in the Lands Above. But, as the centre of all trade, the markets in the Wither City were the largest and the most impressive, with the widest array of goods and services on offer.
Lex had often wandered down late at night to talk to the merchants, partly to keep abreast of all the goings on across the Azure Sea and partly because it never hurt to be on friendly terms with the local salesmen — they were much less likely to rip you off if they knew you to be a local and not simply one of the many travellers that passed through the Wither City each year.
‘Hello Cara,’ Lex said, stepping up to one of the sea-gypsy stalls.
‘Hi, Lex,’ the girl behind the wooden stall said.
She was about Lex’s age and had the typical black hair, dark eyes and olive skin of the sea-gypsies she sailed with. And she was sweet on Lex. Which helped him enormously whenever he wanted to get any information out of her. Not that he was a ladies’ man in general — in an era where teenage girls all seemed to be for the ‘treat ’em mean to keep ’em keen’ school of male wooing, Lex’s honest face (even if it was as false as he was) did not earn him many points where the fairer sex were concerned.
‘What happened to you?’ Cara asked, eyeing the bruises and cuts on Lex’s face and arms in the flickering light from the torches and fires. ‘And why are you wearing those old sailor clothes?’
‘Because I’m going sailing,’ Lex replied, glancing at the black outline of the ships in the harbour. ‘I’m leaving the Wither City.’
‘Why?’ Cara asked. ‘How long for?’
‘Did you hear about the Shadowman? He struck again today.’
Cara nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve heard people talking about it in the market. They said they arrested some kid… ’ She trailed off, staring at Lex, who nodded sadly. ‘But… surely… surely they can’t really think that you are the Shadowman?’
The way she said it was like she couldn’t think of a more absurd suggestion, and Lex had to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking defensively: why not?
‘I was framed,’ he said, making his eyes go all big and scared. ‘I never stole whatever it was. I tried to tell them, but they won’t listen.’