Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“All right, Gehem,” Salam said, putting up his own cloak. “If you help me find Ashira, I will pay you twenty thousand pecuni.”

Gehem looked at the boy next to him. He sure was presumptuous.

“I will not accept so much for simply helping another save a life,” Gehem said, pretending humility.

“Then the sum will be decided after we find her. Can you begin?”

Gehem stopped and went down on one knee. He closed his eyes and focused, his hand touching the cobblestone beneath them. He began to chant under his breath, but did not sing.

Salam was suddenly wary. The chants were similar to those used by the men who had attacked him. Something at the back of his mind finally wriggled free.

Gehem had a foreign accent, one that Salam had rarely heard before. Now he remembered where he had heard it. Years ago, while in the throne room of Aetheris, he had heard diplomats from Celfstein speak. They had had a funny accent, their 'D's harder than usual, their 'K's extra loud. And many words with 'O's were said with and 'oo'.

Then there was Gehem's blonde hair, a trait of the people from Celfstein.

Which meant Gehem was Celfsteinian. His words to Iudes minutes before came back.

'Watch who you keep company with...'

Salam's trust in Gehem disappeared almost entirely. He did not show the realization on his face, however, desiring Gehem to take him to Ashira.

Then another thought came. Perhaps Gehem was going to take him to the people who wanted Salam in Ashira's place. That, he figured, could either be good or bad. If he was able to help Ashira escape while making it out himself, that would be ideal. But he knew that was unlikely.

Gehem stopped chanting and stood, pointing.

“She is underground, in a concrete cellar about two kilometers to the east of us. At least, that is the only girl I can find underground. She is bound at the ankles. Her hands are not on the floor, and so I cannot sense them.”

Salam nodded. He did not know if it was Ashira, but it was the only lead they had. He decided he would go for it.

“Lead on, then,” he said. Gehem stepped forward and began to jog down the street. Although Salam was familiar with the streets, by the time they stopped in front of a small concrete shop, he was lost.

“In here,” Gehem said quietly.

Salam pushed open the sturdy wooden door and entered the shop.

The room was rather small, with a few displays of local art on the walls and tables. There were clay pots of various shapes, sizes, and colors. There were earthen wall decorations and small statues. An older woman was behind a counter, sitting at a quickly spinning wheel. Salam could sense an underlying stench of boiled cabbage beneath the smell of clay.

“Welcome to my shop!” said the old woman. “Is there anything you see that you would like to buy?”

Salam hesitated. He was not sure what to do. He mentally kicked himself for being a horrible planner. Luckily, Gehem stepped forward and gave him time to think.

“I am looking for a vase to use to carry water. The one I have is much too small for one my size. I can carry it with two fingers. What do you have?”

The woman carefully stopped her wheel, cleaned her hands, and came around the counter to speak with him.

“I have plenty of wares for water. Follow me,” she said cheerfully.

“Ma'am, are there any latrines around?” Salam asked.

The woman turned and smiled.

“Oh, yes. It should be the fourth door down the street to the right. It will be on the north side.”

“Thank you,” Salam muttered, bowing slightly. He really did need to use the latrine, but he was hoping to find a way into the woman's cellar.

Salam walked out of the shop and turned right. He had only walked a few paces when a small alley appeared on his right. Just beyond it, he saw a man come out of a door with a large M on it. He looked down the alley and saw, on the right, the entrance to a cellar. He knew it must lead to the area beneath the woman's store, but first he needed to relieve himself.

He entered the public latrine, trying not to breath in too deep. The stench was horrible, as always. Even the flower-scented spells the city had placed around the room did not mask the smell of human waste. Two other men sat on the bench. Salam hurried and emptied his bladder, dipped his hands in a bit of fresh water by the door, and left.

Able to breath again, he walked back toward the alley, headed to the cellar entry, and pulled on it.

“Locked!” he muttered angrily.

He searched his mind for the little ditty he used to sing when he was younger to get into his father's stash of sweet pears.

“Break the lock that keeps me from completing my intention,” he sang under his breath.

He heard a snap and pulled again on the door. This time it opened, and he descended the creaky wooden steps.

No light shone in the depths. He held out his hand in a fist.

“Fire alight, cool and bright, stay within my grip tight.”

Orange flames leaked from between his fingers, engulfing his hand in fire that did not burn. He kept his hand aloft, trying to see. He stood in an earthen tunnel. Stones lined the walls and ceiling. He walked forward slowly, cautious and looking for any traps.

He walked a few paces and the tunnel turned left. He followed it, trying to step softly. It turned right, and he figured he must be somewhere beneath the old woman's shop. A few steps down the hall stood a heavy wooden door to the right.

It was too easy. If this was where she was, Salam must have walked into a trap. Which meant Gehem really was working with Kaias.

He examined the door more closely. It was hardwood, painted green, with iron bands running the length of it. A small knob and a keyhole were on the left. He tried the knob, but it was locked.

He thought he heard a muffled scream from the other side of the door. He stepped back for a moment, then began to sing his unlocking spell.

“Break the lock that keeps me from com-”

The door flew open and Salam felt a blow to his stomach. He was thrown back into the stone wall behind him, his head slamming against it. He lay against the wall, gasping for breath, his vision flickering, and watched as Gehem walked out the door carrying Ashira over one shoulder.

“Foolish boy. 'Watch who you keep company with.'” Gehem sneered.

“Ashira,” Salam said weakly, then blacked out.