22Chapter Four
Layla followed her brother noiselessly, offering no words. He too said nothing, nor did the man if front of him or the twenty-eight men behind him. They'd walked for three weeks, and finally exhausted their repertoire of bad jokes and stories. Now they were silent, their feet quickening as they realized how close they were to the capital.
Master Thief Conder broke the silence first, turning around to face his long line of men. " We'll not enter now," he said in a whisper that reached the last man, as he gestured towards the noise of animals and people that were entering the city. " We will wait for nightfall. As for now, we shall retreat further into the forest and wait till the moon has reached its peak." With nary a word, the men turned a one and went deeper into the forest. They settled down, talking quietly in groups. Before Torr could wander off and leave her, Layla grabbed him by the arm.
" How will we enter the city at night? The gates will be closed, and there will be guards." Torr gave her a disgusted look and pulled her hand off his arm. "Well? How?"
" Use your brain," Torr said as he turned away. "Think for once." He was gone without another word.
Layla bit her bottom lip as she saw him join a group of teens and laugh at what one of them said. The past weeks and made her brother lose his temper more frequently; his mild demeanor had been changed for the worse. " It'll be better when we've settled down at work," Master Conder had told her when she'd worried out loud about her brother. " It's just the jitters - this is his first mission - and he's practically in charge."
Good thing he wasn't, Layla decided, or he'd be biting her head off. But still, there was no need to be rude. And Layla didn't want to go it at night, with the guards out, and pickpockets and cutthroats aplenty. Of course, Layla laughed at herself, they were traveling to meet the pickpockets and murderers - and they themselves were such.
Several hours passed, in which Layla did absolutely nothing. She sat with her back to a tree, completely ignored by everyone. Bet I could go to the city and back and no one would even notice, she thought bitterly. And then, Why not? No one would miss her.
If she's learned just one thing living with outlaws (and she'd learned more then that) it was this; never do something secretly that you can do by being obvious. Layla stood, stretched, and walked off into the woods. No one ever looked her way.
It took Layla twenty minutes to find the main road that led through the giant gold-plated gates that opened into the city. It took her another fifteen minutes waiting until a large group that she could join without being noticed passed her; an unattended girl would get more attention that she wanted to deal with at the moment.
Layla entered the city, trying hard not to be awed. The gates were magnificent, forty feet tall and thirty feet wide, with a guard tower on either side. The city streets were filled with houses at first, but soon they disappeared into shops and merchant stalls. The city was jammed with people; people yelling, people gambling, people singing. Store owners and merchants were crying out their wares or conducting business. The people in the street were thick, pushing and shoving and carrying Layla along with them.
Okay, Layla admitted to herself, Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea. She pulled herself out of the swarm of people, leaving the main road for another one, just as crowded. She went from street to street, ignoring merchants who shoved their merchandise at her, ignoring riffraff whom cried out for coins. She moved from place to place, looking only for a spot where the noise was lessened and she could breath.
And getting herself thoroughly lost in the process.
Layla finally found a place without people, a narrow alleyway on the other side of the crowd. She could still hear them but she could no longer see them, and the air was cleaner then it had been. Now what? She asked herself, looking around. There were no people here, true, but Layla had no understanding of where here was. And she had no idea how to leave here and get back to her brother.
"Oh Lady," she murmured," what have I gotten myself into?" She looked around again and shivered. Perhaps there was a reason this place was deserted. It didn't matter the crowds were suffocating for a girl born in raised in the Cliff, where everyone was very polite to each other, and the marketplace was orderly, they were undoubtedly safer then a forgotten alleyway, silent as death.
Or not so silent, she thought, and blinked, as she heard a crash in front of her and a muffled curse. She stayed still for several minutes, then turned on her heel and started out of the alley. The crash was probably that of someone falling from the rooftops above her - and whoever was crawling around on rooftops was not someone Layla wanted to meet.
But the red-golden haired girl stopped before she turned the corner and left the alley. Waves of pain were coming from behind her, from where the person and fallen, waves intense in their agony. Layla cursed, and turned back to face the ally. "Let me guess," she muttered to herself," I'm a Mage-Healer, and oh-so-lucky - I can even feel other peoples pain!" She sighed, and walked softly onwards. With each step the pain increased, concentrated on her left side. She stopped again, and turned, her eyes widening as she saw a boy only a few years older then herself, an arrow in his side. His left side. A mop of brown hair covered the uppermost of his forehead, and it was cropped short above his ears. His eyes were glassy, unseeing, a white film over a brilliant blue. The arrow was deep in his back - it would have to be removed, now, if the boy was to live.
She hurried to his side and sat, frowning as she considered what to do. She not a trained Mage-Healer; she didn't even know if she was a Mage- Healer. But she had to do something.
She shifted so she could place his head in her lap, and she lay her cool hands on his forehead. It was burning-up, much too high then a single arrow would make him.
" Ariyah, " he said, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. She breathed in sharply as his blue eyes stared into her own bright green ones. Then his eyes shut, his fever rising.
" Oh Lady," Layla said, half just in desperation, half a plea of help. How am I supposed to save a boy shot with an arrow? I don't know these kinds of things!
Or maybe she did. Layla opened her mouth and reached down to her golden pool of magic. She pulled a strand up and smoothed it into the boy's forehead. Then she began to chant;
*Son rie kar ell say ton yaet
Aib ban yol kon jhat toi yon
Aise ki zer hae shoi tae mahr
Imm tor saunt kay aun trie waun.*
She repeated the four lines then set them to a tune. She sang them as she pulled magic from herself, into the boys wound. She numbed the flesh then yanked the arrow out, fast as she could, still singing. The boy screamed once as it came out; then he was silent as the dead. She sang for an hour, lowering the fever and closing the wound. She healed the boy's injury, and as she finished, she let her eyes close for a moment - then dropped down to the alley's floor, her body and magic exhausted.
Layla awoke with the sun dipping in the sky, maybe five hours past noon. She felt surprise but did not move - she had left in the late morning, about eleven. She had no idea how long it had been until she found the boy -
The boy! Layla tried to lift her aching head, then dropped it with a moan, as it seemed impossible. She then let her eyes drop shut, then strained to pull them open again. She stared up at the darkening sky, watching a dark red kay bird - also known as the city bird, they were so common - spiral above her, letting loose a burst of song before it flew away.
" You awake? " A blurred face bent over her own, and two strong hands grasped hers and pulled her into a sitting position. Layla pulled a hand away and rubbed at her eyes. The world was still fuzzy - bent edges, the boy moving in and out of focus. In fact it seemed like there were two boys - Layla moaned again, and closed her eyes. The boy pulled her into a sitting position and forced a glass into her hand. Her hand was to numb to hold it, and it slipped through her fingers. The boy caught it with a muffled curse. He brought it to her lips and she sipped it, to tired to be embarrassed at being treated as an invalid. If she thought about it - which she didn't, thinking hurt, she really was an invalid at the moment.
A moment later a burst of energy rushed through her, reviving her. It subdued after a moment, but she felt more awake then before. Layla opened her eyes again, and though heavy, she could see.
"Do you need more?" the boy asked, bottle held in front of him. She shook her head. "I don't have any money now, lady. If you tell me where you're staying, I can bring it by tomorrow." His eyes met hers as he said this, yet somehow she didn't believe him. He was talking about a Mage- Healer price, she was sure. And he didn't look like he'd pay her, no matter what he promised.
Her thoughts suddenly retracted, and she stared at the boy. Dark brown hair, sapphire eyes - and the posture of assassin.
Which he very well might be.
"That's okay," she said, looking at him with eyes that said she knew he was lying. "It was free."
He raised an eyebrow, and gave her a disbelieving little smile. "A Mage-Healing. For free," he repeated. She nodded, daring him to doubt her. He only stared at her, that disbelieving little smile on his face. She had a feeling they were playing a game - the game of the streets - and that she had just broken. Oh well.
"Of course it's for free," she said bluntly. "If I said it wasn't, you still wouldn't pay, so what's the point?" Both eyebrows went up, and he looked at her in acute disbelief. Layla winced mentally - yeah they were playing a game, he knew the rules, and she had just broken one.
"Refreshing viewpoint," he said, grinning now. "Where are you from?"
Her mind swirled, but she didn't hesitate. "Kahl'tain," she said, naming a city near the border of Jaeroan.
"Really," he said politely, his face impossible to read. "And you've come here for training?" Was there a hint of laughter in his eyes? Was he mocking her, knowing she was an untrained Mage? Or was he just making small talk?
"Yes," she said carefully. "I'm staying with friends. Whom I should be getting back to."
"I beg your pardon," he said with a little bow. "I would not keep you from them." Yes, there was definitely a gleam of laughter in his eyes as he began to fade into the shadows.
"Wait!" she called, desperate. She stood, wobbled a little, then stood steady. "Wait!" she called out again, taking a few steps forward. The boy had not left yet. He walked to her - with the grace and silence of an assassin, she thought again, the kind that she'd been surrounded by all her life. He tilted his head, giving her a quizzical look. Definitely trying to keep from laughing. Apparently she had broken another rule.
"Um," she mutter, feeling a rush of heat flood her face, "I'm sort of lost," she admitted, staring at the ground. Another rule down the drain.
"You're telling me this why?" the boy asked.
Layla raised her head. "You said you'd pay me back for the Healing. Pay me by showing me to the city gate - the one near the Alflon Forest."