Dralin (27 page)

“Here we are, the most amazing place in the
world where you can find everything from the tooth of a carnivorous
fairy to the scale of a mighty dragon,” Bobbell announced,
gesturing grandly at the streets ahead.

They were in a large plaza surrounded by
tall buildings with cone-shaped tile roofs. A bronze statue of a
renowned wizard was in the center surrounded by an area of flowers.
Six more flower gardens were around the edge of the plaza. Inviting
benches were next to the gardens for people to sit and relax.

“This is the nice part of Wizard’s Mall,”
Bobbell told her as they moved to a spot clear of bustling wizards,
workers and assorted individuals out for a day’s shopping, work or
leisure. “You’ll find high quality stores this close to the Tower
District.” He pointed to well kept shops that were brightly painted
and had placards announcing their wares. “A wand shop, potions,
books, rune balls, artifacts and antiques, and a shop for the
finest spell components and focuses a person could ever want all at
prices that make even the richest wizards choke.” He grinned at
Pelya and got the laugh he was anticipating.

Then he became serious and leaned in. “Of
course, you don’t want to see these places even if they would let a
pair like us in. You want to go into the shadowy, twisty streets
with shops that sell dark magics and mysterious wares don’t you, my
little viper?” Pelya nodded hopefully, doing her best to contain
her excitement. He gripped her hand firmly. “You hold on to me and
do everything I tell you to. Understood?” he asked, his grim face
close. When she nodded sincerely, he said, “Let’s go then.”

Pelya stared at everything she could as they
walked, all the while holding Uncle Bobbell’s hand tightly.
Wizards, male and female, roamed the streets. Some were brightly
dressed with flashy robes that glistened in the sunlight. Others
wore sinister robes and held their chins up in contempt of lesser
people that dared to walk the same streets as them. Many were
disheveled and had stains on their old cloth robes. Those had a
tendency to mumble to themselves and run into things. In the upper
windows of a few buildings, people stuck their heads out over
laundry lines strung from building to building and gossiped about
current events.

“Why do all wizards wear robes, Uncle
Bobbell?”

“Hmm? Not all of them do, just most,” he
answered absentmindedly. Bobbell had been busily looking around at
people and buildings as though searching for something. “A robe is
one single piece of clothing with a large surface to thread or
embroider runes into. It makes for stronger magical storage and
protection. If they were to separate it into tunics and leggings,
it would cut the amount of power that could be imbued into it.”

“Do you have to have runes to store power in
something?” Pelya asked, thinking of the magical sword Ebudae had
given her.

Bobbell didn’t answer right away. Then he
looked at her thoughtfully. “I honestly don’t know. I suppose so.
Runes help to store, channel magic, and define what each specific
effect is. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a magical item without
them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious,” Pelya said quickly.
“I’m eleven. It’s my job to ask a never-ending string of
questions,” she told him with an innocent grin.

He laughed at that. “I suppose it is, my
little viper, I suppose it is.”

The streets were gradually becoming darker.
Paint chipping from looming storefronts and worn placards showed
the declining quality of buildings. Powerful looking wizards were
becoming much less frequent, replaced by furtive figures that would
slink from one shop to the next. The only thing that didn’t change
was the absent-minded wizards who talked to themselves. It seemed
they went everywhere. A crow perching on a second story eave of one
of the shops caught her attention. Pelya was certain it was staring
at her.

A hooded woman came toward them from a dark
corner. “Here now, what a pretty little girl.”

“You’ll die quickly if you touch her, you
old bat,” Bobbell threatened in the most sinister, hissing voice
Pelya had ever heard from him. The woman hissed back wordlessly,
scraping the air with a claw-like hand before slinking back into
the corner.

They went past a few more stores before he
stopped in a clear space. “This was a terrible idea. We should go
back,” Bobbell told her with a sigh. “No member of the Guard is
supposed to be in this district alone, and I’m
definitely
not supposed to bring you here. This was a stupid decision.” He
rubbed his brow while keeping an eye out for danger.

Pelya wanted to protest, but realized
immediately how much stress it was putting on him. She was also
beginning to get a bad feeling about everything. “Yes, Uncle
Bobbell. I’m sorry,” she said contritely.

He looked at her and smiled gently. “You’re
such a good child and a wonderful person. I love you, my little
viper,” he told her, wrapping her up in a strong hug.

“I love you too, Uncle Bobbell. I’m sorry I
suggested this. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“No. Don’t you worry about that,” he
replied, taking her by the shoulders and looking her in the eyes.
“You want adventure and excitement as every child should. Don’t
worry, I’ll keep you safe.” He looked around again. “The store I
want to take you to is nearby. After that, I have one quick task to
do. Then we’ll go have a nice lunch in the park or something safe
like that.”

“I really, really don’t want you to get into
trouble, Uncle. We should go back now,” Pelya told him worriedly. A
crow cawed at them in agreement from a placard jutting out of a
nearby shop. She couldn’t tell if it was the same one that had
stared at her before.

Bobbell didn’t seem to notice it. “Nonsense.
I’m known here. We’ll be fine.” He grinned and led her back into
the street. The crow cawed in warning again. Pelya stared as they
passed it. For an instant, she was certain its eyes flashed
purple.

“Uncle Bobbell. Please let’s go back. I have
a really, really bad feeling,” she pleaded, pulling on his
hand.

“The shop is right there,” he pointed at a
grimy stone building with two steps in front of an iron-braced
wooden door. Its placard had a peeling picture of a hand with green
fire coming from the palm. He opened the door, which rang a bell to
alert the shopkeeper that there was a customer.

Inside was a space packed with shelves that
held a myriad of tightly packed items. Many appeared to be magical,
but it was hard to tell. A skeleton of a large bird hung from the
ceiling next to a couple dozen representations of the moons, which
were a favorite decoration of wizards. Everything was dusty and the
light coming in from dirty windows was dim, which most likely
helped to hide some of the flaws in the items.

“Bobbell, you little weasel, have you come
for that special item or another tumble in bed?” a husky-voiced
woman asked from behind the counter.

“Tibella, none of that now, I have my niece
with me,” Bobbell said quickly. “I have the gold piece you’re
asking for the item.” They walked through the narrow aisle to the
counter.

“Your niece?” Tibella asked with raised
eyebrows. She was short, but stout and busty with green eyes, dusky
red hair and a pretty face. Pelya guessed her age to be in the late
thirties, older than Bobbell. “I happen to know for a fact that
you’re an orphan.” She narrowed her eyes at Pelya and put her hands
on hips. “Bobbell, I know you like things a little kinky, but I
never figured you were this depraved. I won’t have anything to do
with it,” she spat out angrily.

Pelya stared at her in shock, not really
understanding the meaning, but getting the feeling that it was bad.
Bobbell instantly disputed the claim. “That is
not
what she
is here for and don’t ever suggest it! She’s under the protection
of the entire Guard and I’m caring for her for the day.
Nothing
bad will happen to her as long as I’m alive,” he
said fiercely, jabbing a thumb into his chest.

Tibella looked back and forth between the
two, finally relaxing when she realized he was sincere. “Sorry.
There are a lot of people who would do that sort of thing.” She
brushed dust off the front of her robe. “You’re not getting the
picks for her, are you?”

“Yup. I didn’t say I wasn’t corrupting her,”
he replied with a grin.

The shopkeeper laughed loudly and unlocked a
cabinet along the wall behind the counter. She pulled out a tied
leather packet and brought it over, unraveling it onto the counter.
Pelya gasped when she saw the set of lockpicks and tools. “Here it
is,” Tibella stated. “They have good magic in them. They won’t
break and they’ll get warm in the hand as a warning if there’s a
magical ward on a lock. They’ll stay steady even in the shakiest
hands too.”

“Perfect,” Bobbell said, going through them
to make sure they were all there.

“It’s illegal to have them, of course. If a
member of the Guard catches you with them, you’ll be in trouble,”
Tibella said with a wink as she leaned on the counter. They both
burst into laughter at the joke. Pelya stared at the picks, wanting
them very much. She was really beginning to like dangerous things
that could get her in trouble and picking locks was fun. “I could
easily get five gold pieces as you know, but you did right by me
and I’m letting them go for the gold piece I paid,” Tibella told
him. There was a look on her face as though she regretted the deal.
“I have to get that much though.”

Pelya instantly reached into the pouch
hidden under her tunic and pulled out the largest coin. It was one
of two shiny gold pieces she kept out of the bank in case she
wanted to buy something especially nice. She laid the shiny coin on
the counter and watched the shopkeeper snatch it faster than
lightning. “Well, well. That’s quite a pretty coin for someone so
young,” Tibella said with a leer. “I wonder how she earned
that.”

Bobbell’s sword was at Tibella’s throat
faster than the coin had been snatched. “Don’t ever insult my niece
again. She’s the best person in the world.” Blood drained out of
the shopkeeper’s face and she trembled while nodding slowly. The
sword was placed rapidly back in its sheath. “Do you mind if I use
the back exit?” Bobbell asked. “I need to talk to someone.” He
wrapped up the lockpicks tightly and handed them to Pelya who
tucked them securely away under her tunic where the pouch was. She
had a secret place in her room where she would keep them.

Tibella nodded weakly and then looked at
Pelya. “You don’t want to take her into the alleys . . .”

“She’s safe with me. Don’t worry,” Bobbell
assured her. The shopkeeper looked back and forth at the two of
them, but courage had left her, so she nodded again and led them
into a back room even more cluttered than the shop. The door had
ten locks keeping it secure. She undid them quickly and stuck her
head out before waving them through.

Locks clacked shut behind them as they
studied the tight alley. Bobbell carefully looked both ways for any
sign of danger and then led her to the right, moving quickly and
quietly.

Pelya followed, but didn’t like it at all.
“Uncle Bobbell, we should go back please,” she urged in a low
voice. “I’m sorry I asked to come. I won’t ever do it again.”

“This will only take a few minutes then
we’ll go back,” he reassured her.

“I have a
really
bad feeling,” Pelya
protested. The blood in her veins had gone cold with dread by that
point, but he didn’t answer.

Buildings loomed over them menacingly,
letting little light through even though the sun was directly
overhead. Bobbell made her step carefully over a trickle of
brackish green liquid coming from a drainpipe out of the back of
one of the buildings. She recognized it as magical waste. If they
touched it, it could lead to deformities.

After a number of twists and turns, they
finally stopped in front of a black, ironbound door. Bobbell
knocked on it in a pattern of nine raps. A metal plate slid back
and a face looked through at them before the door opened and a
rough looking man with a spiked club stepped aside to let them
through.

Pelya was honestly terrified. Everything was
wrong and she didn’t want to go in. She gripped Bobbell’s hand with
all of her strength and stayed as close as possible while they
walked down the hallway to the next door, pushed open for them by
another dangerous-looking man. If she could have gone back and
started the day over, she wouldn’t have
ever
suggested
coming to Wizard’s Mall. Perhaps she would have just stayed in
bed.

A man sat behind the desk at the far end of
the lavishly decorated room. Silver sconces, vivid tapestries and
lush carpets were entirely out of place from the exterior of the
building they had just entered. Five men sat or leaned around the
edges of the room. Every single one of them looked dangerous. A
red-haired wizardess wearing green robes threaded with golden runes
stood behind the man at the desk. The men in the hallway who had
opened the doors came inside, closed the door to the room and stood
in front of it to prevent escape. Every nerve in Pelya’s body was
screaming at her and she wanted to cry in fear.

“Private Bobbell,” the man behind the desk
began in oily tones. He had slick blonde hair and cruel green eyes.
“Did you honestly think you could betray us and live, even if you
are
a member of the vaunted City Guard?”

Bobbell looked down at Pelya who was holding
his hand in a death grip. “You were right, my little viper. Always
trust your instincts.” He jerked forward with a grunt as a sword
was run into his back and out through his chest by a man who had
moved behind him.

Blood flowed from his mouth. “One member
must always report.” Then he fell to the ground while Pelya
screamed in horror as she lost the grip on his hand.