Firebrand

Chapter 179: Unexpected Encounters

Chapter 179: Unexpected Encounters

Unexpected Encounters

Solday morning, Martel made his way to the workshops as usual. He stood with the other novices on the main floor, waiting for Master Jerome to appear and give them their assignments. When the artificer finally arrived, he looked frustrated rather than his usual jovial self. He muttered some quick instructions to the others but gestured for Martel to stay. "You've been with Mistress Vana around the castle, yeah? She took you to the sewers below."

Martel did not have fond memories of the place, and he was a little concerned where this line of questioning would lead, but he would not lie. "Yes, she did."

"She mentioned you were good with water. I have need of that for a particular task. Follow me."

Master Jerome turned around and went down a path that Martel unfortunately recognised; it led to the sewers. As the hatch became opened, Martel could smell it immediately.

The artificer placed a key in his hand. "For the grate door. I need you to follow the tunnel until you reach the pipes. Try to examine if any of them are blocked, move water up and down or whatever your powers allow you to do. If you cannot remove the blockage, tell me exactly which pipe has problems. Meanwhile, I'll be working from this end to figure out what is causing this damn issue."

Breathing through his mouth, resigned to his fate, Martel went down the hatch. He followed the tunnel until he reached the door, unlocked its padlock, and continued beyond. Already, the smell felt unbearable. Martel had doubts whether this many people living together could truly be a good idea when it necessitated something so awful as these sewers. Certainly nothing in Engby had ever had such a stench.

Summoning plenty of light, he walked carefully on the ledge while the water ran next to him, balancing his need for caution with his desire to get this over with.

Finally, he reached the area in question. Various bridges crossed the flowing waters, granting access to the tunnels that led deeper underground. Presumably the Undercroft, though Martel had no wish to go that route; he would see it soon enough. Instead, he turned his attention to the variety of pipes mounted on the wall. All of them had water slowly discharging except one. Obviously, the one furthest away.

Sighing, which he immediately regretted because it made him inhale deeply, Martel crossed some of the bridges to get to the pipe. He tried not to think about the water that ran underneath his feet until he could step onto the ledge on the other side. Not eager to touch anything, Martel crouched down and summoned some light that he might look up at the inside of the pipe.

He caught glimpses of different colours, though he could not readily recognise what he saw. Hoping to handle this without getting his hands dirty, Martel used his magic to seize hold of whatever lay up in the pipe before pulling it down. It fell down willingly, and the young mage was only too happy that touching something with magic did not convey sensory information the same way touching it with his fingers would.

As the blockage landed down in the water, Martel could see that it was simply a bunch of rags pressed together, rancid and heavy with water. He wondered which moron had stuffed this down the grates of the Lyceum; no wonder the pipe had been blocked.

His relief at completing the task lasted briefly, as the sound of movement reached him. Pivoting, he summoned light before him to stare down at the nearest tunnel. His mind filled with thoughts of what terrible creatures lurked in the sewers or beyond. Besides the Undercroft, Mistress Vana had spoken of catacombs – vast burial grounds filled with dead people.

"Someone there?" Martel asked, feeling silly as he said it. Whether a monster from the Undercroft, some undead being from the catacombs, or just a rat from the sewer, he was unlikely to get a response.

Ahead of him, something moved again. He thought that he saw the outline of a shape, smaller than himself though certainly too large for anything that might conceivably live in a sewer.

"Are you a wizard?"

Martel nearly lost control of his bodily functions. Reminding himself that he was indeed a powerful mage, the novice got a hold of himself. "Yes I am. With powerful magic. Who are you?"

"You're not with the inquisitors then?" The voice sounded young, struggling to pronounce the word with four syllables.

Frowning, Martel wondered why that mattered. "I'm not. I ask again, who are you?"

The other person stepped forward from the niche where they had been hiding, entering his magelight. In its glow, he saw a young girl, maybe twelve years of age, wearing rags and looking malnourished. "I'm Julia. Who are you?"

"I'm Martel. A student of the Lyceum. You know what that is?"

She nodded. "It's a school."

"What are you doing down here?"

"I'm hiding. From the people in blue clothes."

"Why do you hide from the inquisitors?" She could not be a mage, could she? At her age, Martel would have imagined her enrolled at the Lyceum. Though, he himself was an example that such could not be certain.

"They came for my mama and papa. Took them away. I ran and hid, but they never came back."

Judging by the state of her appearance, this had happened a while ago. He wondered if she had been hiding all this time in the sewers. "Where do you find food?" Martel was almost afraid to know the answer, but he felt it necessary to ask.

"I go up at night," Julia explained. "Lots of things are thrown out. Living down here, I have learned to follow the trail back. Sometimes I find something to eat that's still good, when I go up on the streets."

Martel felt nauseated, and not from the smell. He had no coins left, but upstairs in the Lyceum, a wealth of food lay. Except, he would not have access to any of it until lunch, and he would not be able to return this way later through the locked grate door. And he could not explain to a member of the faculty that he was stealing food and needed to borrow the key to deliver it. "When you go up on the streets, where do you go exactly in the city?"

"The market. Best chance of finding food."

"Where? A particular square?"

"Yes, with a statue."

That narrowed it down. "Who does the statue show?"

"I don't know his name. He wears clothes like a soldier, but not simple like the guards. He looks important."

The statue of Legate – whatever his name was. "Can you go there tonight? When it's really dark, and the moon is high in the sky."

She looked at him with doubt. "Why?"

"I'll bring you all the food I can. Trust me, it'll be better than whatever you could find."

"You're a mage, so you won't hand me over to the inquisitors, right?"

"It would never cross my mind. I just want to help."

"Alright. I'll be there."

~

At lunch, Martel stashed as much bread as he could. While hauling his hoard back to his chamber, he was intercepted by Henry in the entrance hall, handing over a note with a knowing smile. One hand clutching the bread to stay inside his robe, Martel snatched the message and hurried away. He glanced down, reading it as he walked.

Master Martel,

I appreciate confirmation of your participation.

Your terms are acceptable.

Please join me Malday evening after last bell.

Come alone.

The Copper Lady

Martel had already forgotten about that, engrossed in his new venture. Well, that was in two days. Plenty of time to take care of this matter first.

~

Supper provided an opportunity to grab various vegetables and some strips of meat. Uniting it with his haul from dinner, Martel waited until the moon stood high against the night sky. He realised that using the moon as a time marker was not ideal when arranging a meeting with someone living underground, but he doubted the sewers had any Khivan clocks floating around. He would just have to wait if he arrived first.

Bundling all the food inside his scarf and placing it under his robe, which gave him an unflattering belly, Martel finally left the school two hours after last bell, according to the watch on his desk. He made his way to the square with the statue of the legate. Few people were around. The peddlers had gone home, the stalls were closed, and nobody fetched water at this hour. Nor did he see any sign of Julia.

Sitting down on the steps below the statue, Martel held his bundle in his hands and waited. He realised that if she never showed, he might wait quite a while. He would have to give up at some point unless he wanted to spend a cold night outside.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he almost missed the sound of a hiss meant to draw his attention. Looking around, he saw a small hand waving at him from within the shadows by a closed booth.

He glanced around as if someone might be observing him, aiming to interfere with his nefarious intentions of giving food to a homeless child. As could be expected, nobody seemed to care of the few people shuffling around the square. Crossing the empty space, Martel reached the girl hiding by an alleyway. He quickly opened his scarf to show her the promised bounty.

"You weren't lying, this is good." She snatched it all up.

"If you come back tomorrow, same time, I'll try to have more."

"I don't like being up here," Julia admitted. "But I guess if you bring me more, it's worth it. But now I have to go down. I've already been up too long." With no further words, she hurried down the nearby alley and disappeared into the darkness.