“Why did you do that? We can’t stop, they’ll catch us!” Stephano said, annoyed.
“You’re bleeding,” said Rodrigo, pointing to Stephano’s left shoulder. “You’ve been shot.”
Stephano looked down to see a large amount of blood had soaked through both his shirt and his coat. That was why people had been staring at him.
“I’ll be damned,” he said.
“You didn’t know you’d been shot?” Rodrigo asked, amazed.
“I was trying to control that demonic horse,” said Stephano. “And thank you so much for telling me. I didn’t feel anything until you said something. Now it hurts like Hell!”
“Let me look.”
Rodrigo gingerly pulled aside the bloodstained coat. Stephano winced and gasped at the pain.
“I can’t see anything except blood,” Rodrigo told him. “Your shirt is plastered against the wound.”
“That’s probably stopped the bleeding,” said Stephano, gritting his teeth. “Don’t pull it off, or it will start again.”
“How bad is it?”
“The bullet didn’t hit a major artery, or I’d be dead by now,” said Stephano. “I don’t think it broke any bones. But, damn, it hurts! Do you see an exit wound?”
Rodrigo looked behind him and shook his head.
“Then the bullet must still be lodged in my shoulder.”
“Can you keep going?” Rodrigo asked worriedly.
“I don’t have much choice,” said Stephano, grimacing. “Take a look into the street. See what our friends are doing.”
Rodrigo peered around the corner of the building. “The two killers are now on foot, looking for us. I see Piefer’s carriage, but I can’t see him.”
“He’s probably on foot, as well. We have to reach Canal Street. I don’t suppose this alley cuts through to the next street over?”
Rodrigo ran down the alley and returned to report. “It’s a dead end. But I did find this.” He exhibited a woman’s linen underskirt and a man’s wool coat. “Found these on a clothesline. Don’t worry. I left a silver piece in the woman’s stocking as payment.”
Rodrigo tore up the underskirt to use as a sling, which he wrapped around Stephano’s arm. He eased off Stephano’s bloodstained coat and draped the wool coat over his shoulder.
“Now you won’t draw so much attention.”
“We can’t stay here,” said Stephano, once his arm was bandaged. “Piefer’s men will assume we’re hiding, and alleys will be the first place they’ll look. Our best chance is out there, mixing with the people.”
Rodrigo took one more look into the street. He reported that Piefer’s men had split up, one taking the north side of the road and the other the south. He and Stephano plunged into the crowd. Traffic was moving on the street again, under the direction of a policeman.
Rodrigo stopped. “The police! We should report Piefer to the police!”
“And you’d be the one they’d arrest,” said Stephano grimly. “Dueling is against the law, which makes the death of Valazquez murder. The honorable Sir Richard Piefer would tell them you shot Valazquez, and we can’t prove that you didn’t.”
“My God!” Rodrigo cried, horrified. “I’m a wanted man!”
“I’ll talk to my mother,” said Stephano. “The countess will see to it that the right people are bribed and paid off and the murder is hushed up. She’s good at that sort of thing. We’ll add the cost in as a business expense related to Alcazar.”
“So you think this has something to do with Alcazar? But why do they want to kill me?” Rodrigo demanded.
Stephano’s mind had been grappling with this question; suddenly he had an answer.
“Because you are a crafter; a highly skilled crafter,” Stephano said. “And because someone knows you are investigating the disappearance of Alcazar, also a crafter. Someone knows this because they had a man watching Alcazar’s apartment…”
And then Stephano knew where he had seen Sir Richard Piefer.
“Piefer is Slouch Hat!” he said to Rodrigo. “That is why he had looked familiar to me! I remember thinking Slouch Hat looked like a jongleur, like a man who has been on the stage, an actor.”
“But then who is he and why was he trying to kill us?” Rodrigo asked, bewildered.
Stephano’s mind, once it got going, was now racing along. “Because Slouch Hat/Piefer was afraid you had discovered something related to Alcazar.”
“But I didn’t, except the possibility that Alcazar has ties to Westfirth…”
“Piefer couldn’t know that. He tried to kill you just on the possibility that you had learned something!”
“And poor Valazquez?” Rodrigo asked.
“He was just a cat’s-paw; a hotheaded young man who could be easily lured into fighting a duel. You were telling the truth, weren’t you?” Stephano said remorsefully. “You said you didn’t write those letters. I should have believed you.”
“I can understand why you wouldn’t,” said Rodrigo with a faint smile. “You are right. My life as a reprobate was bound to catch up with me.”
“As for the wretched Valazquez, he was supposed to kill you and, when he didn’t, Piefer killed him so that there would be no witnesses.”
“If Alcazar found a way to fully meld magic and metal, such a discovery would definitely be worth killing a few people,” said Rodrigo. He regarded his friend in concern. “You don’t look good. How are you doing?”
Stephano shivered. He was starting to grow feverish. “I’m all right,” he lied.
Rodrigo glanced behind. “We’ve been spotted. Piefer’s assassins are catching up. I believe that lane cuts through.”
The entrance of a small, narrow street was on the opposite side. They darted recklessly in front of a cab, forcing the driver to rein in his horse to avoid hitting them. He lashed at them angrily with his whip as they dashed past. They ran down the lane, not stopping to look, hoping that their sudden movement had caught the two assassins off guard.
At the end of the lane, Stephano had to stop. He could feel himself weakening. He leaned against a wall, shaking with chills.
“Not much farther,” said Rodrigo. “We’re on Canal Street. I can see the Cloud Hopper from here.”
“Just… give me a moment to rest,” Stephano said.
Rodrigo looked back down the lane.
“We don’t have a moment, my friend.”
Stephano sucked in his breath. “All right. Let’s go.”
He tried to take a step, staggered, and nearly fell. Rodrigo put his arm around his friend and half-dragged, half-carried Stephano toward the Cloud Hopper.
As the name implied, Canal Street bordered the largest, longest, and oldest of the canals. Originally natural formations-deep ravines that cut inland-the canals had been magically extended by crafters, who had used their magic to blast through the rock. Although the canals resembled waterbearing canals, these canals were filled with the Breath, not water, and were used by smaller craft to enter the city. Larger craft, such as the naval ships, were not permitted into the city at all, and had to dock at the wharf, which was some distance away.
Floating wherries and barges sailed up and down the canals, delivering passengers and goods to various parts of the city. Trundler houseboats, such as the Cloud Hopper, docked in the stalls, paying a fee for the privilege. The Royal Barge was there, ready for use. The grand bishop and many other nobles had their own private yachts, as these luxurious vessels were known. The yachts and the Royal Barge cruised the canals on fine nights.
Canal Street was lined with warehouses, taverns, and market stalls that sold goods fresh off the barges. Stevedores loaded and unloaded cargo. Vendors in the stalls shouted out their wares. Buyers went from stall to stall, examining the vegetables, the slabs of beef, and the fish fresh-caught in the lakes in the mountains.
Stephano and Rodrigo mingled with the buyers, going from stall to stall, making their way down the street to where the Cloud Hopper was docked.