Chapter 11
Peter and Roderick elected to stay behind the following day while Lochlan and I set up the knitting booth again. Roderick claimed he was going to work on parceling out the pixie dust into small bags for selling, and Peter insisted on helping him.
Just as Peter had predicted, Roderick didn’t retaliate over the punching incident.
Instead, it seemed that he had a greater respect for Peter rather than hating him because of the attack.
I shook my head. Even after trying most of my life to imitate men, they still didn’t make sense to me sometimes.
“I heard there are pipes under the streets,” I told Lochlan as we set up the booth at the market that morning. The street bustled with busy shoppers all intent on getting their purchases and getting back home as quickly as possible.
“That’s true,” Lochlan said, unloading another basket and setting out his sign. “The aqueducts carry water from the mountain streams to the cities below. Many pipes run under the city to cool the streets and provide water to the houses. Berkway employs many pipe workers to keep it maintained.”
“That’s neat,” I said, arranging the products so they were actually organized by color instead of the haphazard way Lochlan had laid them out.
He smiled at a little girl toddling past who was staring at him with big green eyes. “Handknits for sale!” he called to the passersby. “Always a fair price!”
Sales were better that day, likely because the market had been closed for Mourning Day. Lochlan sold several items for a few coins each, but no one asked about alpaca wool.
Near the end of the day, Brent passed by.
When he spotted me, he gave a cheery wave and immediately made a beeline for our booth.
“Hey there, Gil,” he called. “I didn’t realize you were a knitter.
How long have you had this hidden skill?
” Then his gaze flicked over to Lochlan and his brow furrowed. “Do I know you?”
Lochlan held out his hand. “I should hope so. I make some of the best scarves in all of Berkway. I’m usually here twice a week. Are you looking for anything special today?”
Brent shook Lochlan’s hand, but his frown remained in place. “No, I know you from somewhere else.”
“I went to a boys’ academy over in Banebridge when I was younger,” Lochlan said. “Maybe there? I’d be willing to give a discount for an old classmate.”
Brent seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. “No, I’m not from here. My mistake. I was surprised to see you with my friend. Is this where you’ve been hiding lately, Gil?”
“Yeah,” I said sheepishly. “Remember, my mam has a new boyfriend and I don’t like hanging around him, so I offered to help Lochlan with his stall.”
“How generous of you. Come here, I wanted to tell you something.” Brent beckoned me over so we could talk in private, and Lochlan continued to watch us much too closely for comfort.
“There’s a new bounty,” Brent whispered. “And Ambrose isn’t giving it just to Elvin. He’s opening it to everyone all at the same time.”
“Who’s the bounty for?” I breathed.
“That’s the thing,” Brent answered excitedly after a quick look around. “Ambrose said it isn’t a person. It’s an object. But he’s offering a hundred thousand gold shillings.”
I nearly choked. “A hundred thousand? That’s a lifetime of earnings.”
He nodded. “Ambrose says he has more information for anyone who wants it, and he’ll be briefing everyone tomorrow night, so swing by if you can. If Elvin gets it instead of one of us, I might lose my mind.”
Cries came from the far end of the street leading out of the market, which I ignored.
“I’ll be there. See you soon,” I told Brent.
“So, he’s a friend of yours?” Lochlan asked when I came back to the stall.
“Yeah,” I breathed, watching Brent walk away.
Whatever the Employer wanted, I had to know.
That sort of money would make it so I never had to accept another bounty again.
The Employer would be forever indebted to me if I brought it back.
Who knew what I could get if I delivered the mysterious object to him?
More shouts came from down the street.
“Probably some petty theft,” Lochlan said, but he still craned his neck for a better look. “See, the Nightsworn are coming.”
Sure enough, several men in uniforms were coming our direction, headed toward the commotion.
I pulled my cap down low and busied myself with packing up the rest of the merchandise with my back turned so I wouldn’t be seen.
I hadn’t had any run-ins with the Nightsworn yet, but I didn’t want today to be my first. Fortunately, they had no interest in me or Lochlan and strode right past while the cries at the end of the street grew more panicked.
“What do you think it is?” I asked, staring at the crowd gathering beyond the market.
Lochlan stood on tiptoe. “I’m not sure, but something’s wrong.”
More of the Nightsworn rushed past, followed by more people. My curiosity was getting the best of me.
“You! Aren’t you a healer? We need you!” A frantic woman ran up to Lochlan, tugging at his arm. “A child fell into a drain pipe.”
“Shoals, did they already drown?” Lochlan began running as well, the woman and me right behind him.
“No, there’s a grate at the bottom so she can’t fall into the actual aqueduct, but it’s too far down and she can’t hold on to the rope.”
We pushed through the crowd gathered around the narrow pipe sticking up from the ground. Feeble cries echoed within the pipe. “Mama!” the young girl was screaming, over and over. Her voice was shrill and thin.
“I’m here!” a woman called into the pipe, tears running down her face. “We’re coming, sweetheart!”
“How old is she?” Lochlan asked the woman.
“Melody is two,” the woman sobbed. “She can’t hold on to the rope.”
“How far down is Melody?”
The guard’s face sagged. “Maybe twenty feet. We already tried lowering ropes and harnesses, but she can’t support her own weight.”
“We could cut a platform and lower that,” Lochlan suggested. “Then she could sit on it. Or you could try a chair.”
“Yes,” the mother gasped. “Do it. Save her.”
The crowd worked quickly together, trying to cobble together anything to lower to the child, but anytime it was about halfway down, it would get stuck on some unseen protuberance within the pipe. Nothing rigid would fit.
My lungs tightened like bands around my chest. That little girl was stuck down there. A fog settled over my mind, so heavy that it obscured my surroundings.
I stumbled back, my heart thudding fast and frantic.
The world blurred. For a moment, I wasn’t standing near a drain pipe outside the market.
I was six years old again, barefoot on the stone floor of my family’s cottage, surrounded by sounds of slavers storming in, jangling their iron handcuffs and shouting words that still rang in my ears.
Nora had yanked me by my arm and shoved me toward a trunk barely long enough for my tiny frame, even then.
“Hide,” she had hissed before throwing a quilt over me and closing the lid. “Don’t come out until they’re gone.”
It had shut with a horrible slamming noise.
The air inside had turned thick and stale the longer I stayed hidden, each breath coming with more and more difficulty.
The trunk’s wooden walls had pressed in on me so it felt like there was no escape and the trunk had become a coffin.
Outside, I’d heard the sounds of boots, screaming, and crying.
My father had pleaded and begged for them to release his wife and daughter and take only him instead, but the slavers had merely laughed.
The sounds of multiple blows had come, and my mother and sister had screamed at them to leave my father alone.
I had waited and waited and waited, long after the sounds from outside had disappeared.
I waited until my entire body went numb from holding still so long.
I waited until the silence rotted away my courage and the knowledge that my family wasn’t coming back settled in.
That was the moment my fear of small spaces had been born.
When I emerged from the trunk late that night, I knew that I was entirely alone in the world, and the world was not a kind place.
I came back to the present, where the crowd was still gathered around, trying to save that little girl. Several men, including Lochlan, all tried to squeeze into the tube, but each one failed. The pipe was simply too narrow. The girl’s shrill sobs began to fade.
“Melody? Melody!” the mother screamed. “Can you hear me?”
There was no answer.
I looked at the opening. It was barely wider than my shoulders.
Darkness yawned beneath it as the daylight was quickly swallowed by the oppressive darkness that always lingered in tight, confined places.
No adult had a chance of fitting through the gap.
Only a child could fit inside…or perhaps a very small woman.
“I’ll go.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Everyone turned to look at me. “What did you say?” Lochlan asked.
I squared my shoulders. “I said I’ll go.” I remembered how desperately I wished someone had been there to save me all those years ago. The world had not been kind to me, but perhaps this little girl could have a better outcome.
The mother turned her tear-stricken face to me. “Please,” she whispered. “Please save my little girl if you can.”
I clenched my abdomen and curled my hands into fists at my sides, fighting the panic swelling inside me.
The drain pipe had to be similarly sized to me now as that the trunk had been to me as a child.
The idea of being lowered into that damp, airless tunnel where the walls would crush me and I wouldn’t even be able to stretch…
I didn’t like thinking about it. My palms became slick with sweat.
Could I do it? What if I got stuck just like the little girl had?