The Living Sword Read online

  At Patheos' approach they all looked up and one of them stood up, handing his fishing line to one of his friends.

  “My friend here doesn't know the city so he needs a guide,” Patheos began. “More specifically, someone who knows the fifteenth and seventeenth districts.”

  “I know my way around the entire lower city,” the boy boasted. “The fifteenth... you mean the Posaidar quarter, sir? I go there all the time. But we're fishing right now. I think they're about to bite, too.”

  “I'll pay you a copper now, and my friend will give you one once your task is done.”

  “A copper?” the boy scoffed with a gap-toothed smile. “That doesn't buy me a sardine. If I'm stuck showing him around all day, I'll need half a moon.”

  “When you try to rob someone, you shouldn't try it unarmed. I'm sure one of your friends would be happy for the coppers.”

  He didn't even glance back. “Sure, they'd take the copper and leave your murmer standing in the middle of the market. A good job takes good money.”

  Eurik watched on as they came closer to a price. This negotiation had a different tone than the ones back on the island. 'So this is haggling. Fascinating.'

  “Fine, you little thief, eight coppers it is,” Patheos relented. “But you'll take him wherever he wants to go and you should know, he understood every word we said.”

  That earned Eurik a more careful look from the boy. He gave the Linesan a smile in return. “Call me Eurik.”

  Patheos counted out four copper pieces. “First, I want you to take him to the Charging Anauceros. After that, to Dogall & Sons on Silverfield Street. Once he has concluded his business there, wherever Eurik wants to go for the rest of the day. He'll give you the rest once he's done.”

  The scholar turned to him. “These dinners take forever, so you'll be on your own tomorrow morning. I simply must have my eight hours of sleep. But I should make it to the Anauceros before lunch. Until then.” Patheos waved him goodbye and then set off with his patron's messenger in tow.

  Eurik watched him go until he disappeared into a waiting carriage that slowly rolled away. 'And now, I am surrounded by strangers.' Shaking that thought off, Eurik tried to get into the spirit of things. There was a city to explore, an entire world, in fact.

  “Name's Dak, if you're curious,” the boy said.

  He simply nodded. “And this is Misthell.” Eurik indicated the sword peeking over his shoulder, which earned him a frown as Dak tilted his head slightly to the right.

  A frown that lasted as long as it took for the living sword to speak up. “Hey.”

  Dak jumped back, but he quickly regained his composure. “Could you tell my ma what I'm doing?” he asked his friends. They said yes, and without another word Dak left them to their fishing.

  Eurik followed his new guide down the docks, but stopped when his foot hit the stone quay. He'd been trying to get a feel for Wind these past days, and he hadn't been entirely deprived of the feeling of Earth chiri during the trip either, yet it was now that he connected with the world in a way he hadn't since leaving home. It was instinct to send the energy swirling through his body, strengthening it.

  With a renewed spring in his step, Eurik walked on. He didn't get far, however, before it slammed into him. The breeze was stifled here by the buildings and for the first time, Eurik got to smell the accumulated scents of half a million people living together.

  This time, Dak noticed he wasn't following and he doubled back. “What's wrong with you?”

  Eurik tried breathing through his mouth, but he swore he could faintly taste the filth. “The air, it's ... not as clean as I am used to.”

  His guide gave an experimental sniff. “I don't smell anything funny.”

  Not wanting to focus any more on the smell, Eurik looked over his shoulder and addressed Misthell. “You wouldn't happen to find anything here familiar?”

  “Hmmm, can't say that I do. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, if you did, then that would have meant my parents had been here before. It would mean the ship they were on left from here.”

  “Or I simply don't remember being here,” Misthell pointed out. “I wouldn't hang too much on me not remembering something.”

  “I won't. Let's go, I'll be fine.”

  Dak shrugged and started to lead him down the street again.

  ***

  Tall warehouses gave way to even taller apartment buildings. They looked somewhat similar, with the first two stories made of brick while the rest of its height was constructed out of wood.

  The apartment buildings, however, were a lot busier with workshops and stores facing the street while their stairs saw a steady stream of traffic in and out. Eurik saw a blacksmith putting a piece of metal in the coals next to a butcher, who loudly praised his wares. Next to him two women wove baskets. Food, bowls, knives, shoes—just about everything was on sale.

  It was strange to walk amongst the crowd. Their clothes, their skin, their eyes, their width, their height—it all was different. Eurik was taller than most of the people he saw. For a change he had to look down more than up.

  And there were women, too. Not remarkable on its own, and it wasn't the first one he'd seen. One had visited the island back when he was eight or nine. But he'd been a child back then, not really aware of all the realities that came with being part of a race that had sexes. He found his eyes linger on one of them who was about his own age. She stared back and Eurik quickly looked away, feeling nervous.

  With all of these new things to see, hear, and feel, it was hard to keep track of where they were. He'd still be able to find the harbor, but only because he could cast his awareness out through the chiri in the ground.

  The impact of thousands of feet disturbed the Earth chiri, like raindrops falling on a pond, giving it a peculiar restlessness Eurik hadn't felt before. It did make it easier to tell there were tunnels underground. 'Must be those famous sewers.'

  And above ground were the famous aqueducts of Linese, providing the fountains Eurik encountered at every crossroads with water; the only commodity that appeared to be free in this city.

  The buildings around them changed, growing smaller and becoming entirely made out of wood. The crowd parted to reveal a group of six, clad in leather armor and carrying wicker shields and staves, marching down the street.

  “Better get out of their way. The wicked are the law down here,” Dak warned him as he himself moved to the right.

  Watching the city guard pass them, Eurik noticed they wore short swords at their sides. One wore a horn. The watchmen looked around, more than one pair of eyes lingered on Eurik, but they kept their pace and soon the group was swallowed by the throng again.

  “Come on, the Anauceros ain't far,” his guide urged.

  ***

  Whoever made the sign for the inn got things mostly right. It was green, scaly, had six legs, and its head was lowered as if to charge. The now extinct beast of burden hadn't had a set of big horns though. At least, the illustration of the skeleton Eurik had seen lacked them.

  Entering with Dak in tow, he made his way inside and approached the man behind the counter. Eurik waited for the innkeeper to finish pouring a drink, but before he could speak up the man did so himself. What he said, Eurik couldn't tell because he didn't recognize the language.

  “Ah, I'm looking for a room,” he tried.

  The innkeeper blinked, then spoke again, this time in Linesan. “I'm full.”

  “I do not require much. A place to lay my sleeping mat down, nothing more.”

  The innkeeper's left eye appeared to be permanently half-lidded, giving Eurik an unnerving stare. He scratched his cheek. “I got no beds. And my guests paid good money for some privacy. Most didn't bring any horses though, so I got room in the stables, I think. It's been busy.”

  'More haggling.' It was time Eurik pushed back. “Truth be told, I was mainly interested in finding out what a bed looked like. I can easily make my own shelter.”

  The sta
re came back for a moment, and the innkeeper grunted. “Two moons. That'll get you a comfortable place in the hay, as well as supper and two beers.”

  Eurik didn't even try to fight his smile. “Two silver coins sounds expensive. It's not like the hay will be ruined if I sleep on it, and beer only costs two copper pieces.” Hoyashi had told him the price of many items.

  It was the innkeeper's turn to laugh. “Two coppers, ha, I don't sell water here boy!”

  “Half a silver piece, that's twenty-four, ah, coppers. How does that sound?”

  “Like you don't want to spend the night here,” the Linesan fired back.

  He retrieved a single silver coin from his sash and placed it on the counter. Placing a single finger off-center on the disc, Eurik connected with the chiri in the currency and separated a quarter of it. He easily slid the bit under his finger away from the coin. “As I said, I can make my own shelter if needed. How about three-quarters of a silver coin? Thirty-six coppers for a place to rest, supper, two beers, as well as a bath.”

  The innkeeper picked up the quartered coin and examined the smooth edge where Eurik had separated one part from the rest. “Neat trick. Alright, you got yourself a deal. Teron here will show you where you'll be sleeping, but don't leave any of your belongings there if you want to go into the city. I ain't responsible if they go missing while you're gone.”

  “I'll be careful,” Eurik promised.

  ***

  Once again, Eurik followed Dak through the streets of Linese. The surface under his feet had gone from mud to solid stone, and many of the Linesans in this part of the city wore clothing of a finer make.

  Eurik had left his pack back at the inn, under the stables, in a hollow he'd created, but he'd kept Misthell with him. If he found something at the insurer's it could jog the sword's memory. He wondered if the stares he got were for Misthell as his singular eye cast about, or Eurik himself.

  Dak fell back. “Say mister, are you a knight?”

  “Ehm, no.”

  He looked back at Eurik. “You do magic and you're carrying around a magic sword. Sounds like a knight to me.”

  Eurik shook his head. “It's not magic.”

  “You're cutting metal and melting stone with your mind. How is that not magic?” Dak retorted.

  “Because it's not. It's, hmmm, I use a different philosophy.” That earned him a mystified look from his guide so Eurik tried again. “You can row a boat, or use a sail. They both get it where you want, but the method is different.”

  “Oh. If you don't use magic, then how do you do that?”

  Eurik found himself stymied. He hadn't ever had the need to explain such simple things. Everybody knew what the Ways were back on the island. So perhaps he should start there. “I use one of the Ways; it's called Rise of the Mountain. I connect with the ground, with the energy in stone and metal, and I shape it.”

  “Sounds like magic to me,” Dak muttered.

  “No, magic is … Okay, I don't know all that much about magic. But I do know that words are important in magic, and you don't use them at all in the Ways.”

  “Those mages do always seem to say stuff when they cast,” Dak agreed before he suddenly stopped. “We're here. Don't know which one is Dogall's since I hardly ever come here ...”

  “That's alright,” Eurik assured his guide as he looked down the street. On the front of every building a name had been painted, and one of them was Dogall's. “I see it.”

  ***

  It was darker inside Dogall & Sons than it had been in the Charging Anauceros. At the inn, the windows had been thrown wide open to let the sunlight in, but not here; there weren't any windows to be thrown open. The only light came from oil lamps hanging from the ceiling.

  Eurik entered alone, and his entrance drew immediate attention from everyone inside. All but one of them went back to work a moment later. “Our customers are rarely armed,” someone spoke up from the back. A single ring glinted on his right middle finger as the man got up from his desk. “Then again, you don't look like a customer.”

  Eurik bowed. “Good morning. I'm here for Rolan Ilad, I have a letter from Patheos is-Ilad.” He was a little embarrassed that he couldn't recall the exact relationship between the two.

  The Linesan's bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Rolan? And from is-Ilad,” he mused. “He's in the back.” The man indicated a door and when he said nothing more, Eurik took it as an invitation.

  Being among stacks of paper and parchment again felt good, but it didn't last long as Rolan came to meet him. “Can I help you,” he asked Eurik.

  “I hope so. I have here a letter from your—” he faltered as he still couldn't remember the relation between the two. “From Patheos is-Ilad,” Eurik settled for, handing over the piece of paper.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I'm trying to find out what happened to my parents and he offered to help, but someone was waiting for him at the dock. Apparently his patron wanted to see him right away, so he gave me this letter instead.”

  Eurik waited while Rolan examined the seal, then opened the letter and read it. “When the head of the family asks, what can we do but say yes,” Roland said after finishing the letter. He looked up. “This won't be easy,” the Linesan warned Eurik. “We do have records for every human ship that foundered, stretching back fifty years, but that just means there's a lot of hay for your needle to get lost in. And you're assuming the ship was lost.”

  “The situation must have been serious for them to have chosen the use of a small boat in those waters. Especially without adequate supplies,” Eurik countered. “And we can narrow things down to a specific time frame as well as an area where it must have happened. It happened sometime in the first half of the year 904, probably early spring. South of the island—I mean San. The ship might have been heading for Linese,” he added.

  “Well, I'm not going to find it in the next five minutes, and Mister Dogall won't let you hang around here until I do. Where will you be staying?”

  “I'm staying at the Charging Anauceros.”

  Rolan bobbed his head. “I'll come by tomorrow morning to share what I've found, or didn't find. You best be up early.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” Eurik bowed.

  The Linesan grinned. “If you want to show your gratitude, buy me breakfast tomorrow.”

  “I will keep that in mind.”

  Once back on the street, Eurik found himself at a loss what to do now. Patheos had promised to show him around the city, but that couldn't happen today. His search for what had happened to his parents was in the hands of another at the moment, and he would have to wait for the results. He could go find somewhere to eat—he hadn't had much back on the Ichiru.

  “I think I'll buy us lunch. You know a good place to eat?” he asked Dak.

  “Sure, but it's nowhere near here.”

  “That's fine, I want to see more of this city anyway. Lead the way.”

  This time, their journey took them over one of the broad bridges spanning the tributaries of the Endria. Eurik stopped for a moment to examine one of the statues lining it, and the traffic flowed around him. Like all the other stone statues he had seen, this one had been painted in vivid colors. It showed a man wearing nothing but a cloak and a dagger stabbing himself in the thigh. Since this was the Bridge of Heroes, it had to be a figure from Nesan legends; like all the others on this bridge. Eurik couldn't figure out who it was supposed to be, though.

  “What are you looking at?” Dak wondered.

  “That statue, I was wondering which story it is from.”

  “Story?”

  “Yes, like that one,” he indicated a sculpture ready to throw a spear. “The slayer of the boar of Illysia, Tithos. And next to him, the dragonslayer Sinean. They're all statues of heroes from Nesan legend, but I don't recognize this one.”

  “It's Vulpos,” Misthell supplied. “He's about to plunge the dagger into his leg to make his trail more alluring for Suran's hounds so that they
'll stop chasing his friends and go after him. When the god caught up with him, Vulpos boasted how he outsmarted the god of hunters once again and that his horn was long gone. As punishment, Suran turned Vulpos into a fox so that he would have to outsmart hunters for the rest of his life.”

  Angling his head Eurik said, “I didn't know you were an expert on Nesan legends.”

  “I didn't either! But you mentioned those others and suddenly, I knew every statue and I could recite their stories.”

  “Why would a sword need to know that,” Dak wondered.

  “I... don't know,” Misthell admitted. “It's important, I know that much. It's part of my … my purpose. But I can't tell how,” he said in a huff.

  “It might be related to whatever ability you have. Living swords are supposed to possess them,” Eurik guessed.

  “Maybe. Or maybe my creators were obsessed with stories.”

  “That would be something.” He looked up at Vulpos again and noticed that the cloak was actually the skin of a fox. Eurik stared at it for a few moments longer before he let himself be led away by a now impatient Dak. 'Was that why they were traveling?' he mused to himself.

  ***

  Dak led them back into the warren of tall apartment buildings ringing the harbor. They left the paved streets behind and entered the muddy alleys squeezed in between the buildings. His nose told him it wasn't only mud he was about to walk through.

  Eurik didn't miss a beat and sent his awareness out; he packed dirt together, squeezing out the water, and formed a narrow path of dry earth for himself. 'Have to be careful with these boots. I don't have spares.'

  Even though there was less room here, that didn't slow down the people around him. Eurik bumped into more than one person. Hands brushed against his sash, but he easily moved his money out of the way of those questing fingers. 'Thank you for the warning, Barsoc.'