The Outskirts: The Rogue Knight (Jace x OC) BOOK 2

The Rogue Knight: 4

As we made our way eastward through the streets of Carthage, I struggled to regain my composure. Without the Jumping Swords, Ansel would have nabbed us.
I was unnervingly aware that we had almost become slaves again. It had been nice to pretend the freemark had ended that problem. But if Ansel cut off the hand with the freemark, what protection would we have?
I tried to look casual and blend in, but I kept flexing the fingers of my marked hand. It wouldn't stop shaking.
I felt exposed. Should we have kept to the rooftops, using our Jumping Swords to put more distance between ourselves and Ansel? Or would that have only drawn more attention?
Should we find a place to hide? Or would that just give Ansel time to catch up? I quickened my pace, Cole beside me.
Ham had shown up out of nowhere. How many more of Ansel's people were already in pursuit? I strained to recall the different slavers from the caravan, watching for them in all directions.
Twitch had been right about crowds. There were too many eyes. Sure, you gained some anonymity among big groups of people. But if you were being hunted, you ran the risk of crossing paths with the wrong person.
You also risked not seeing the people chasing you. In my imagination, I could almost feel the cool touch of steel as a wickedly sharp sickle slid across my throat from behind.
I kept one hand near the Jumping Sword, ready to draw it and take off if needed, crowd or no crowd.
Would Ansel really sever my hand? What kind of a world was this? My problems used to involve getting my homework done on time and coping with an annoying sister. Now I had enemies who wanted to chop him up and enslave me.
The threat might have been a bluff to scare us into surrendering. But probably not. I had the shivery feeling that Ansel was capable of that much, and worse.
I wasn't sure whether to mesh with the crowds or avoid them. It all depended on how Ansel decided to search for us. The major streets seemed like the most obvious places to look, so we steered away from them. The smaller streets offered less cover, but we had a better chance of seeing trouble coming and jumping away without causing a scene.
As we progressed from block to block, the buildings around him began to look dilapidated. Sagging roofs, weathered surfaces, broken windows, and boarded-up doors all caught my eye. The people wore shabbier clothes. Several eyed us and our swords. One man with a growth of graying stubble on his face openly sized up us as he walked by.
I tried not to pay too much attention to the man but couldn't help noticing when the stranger started following us.
I tried to heed Jace's advice. We needed to look like we belonged here. But we were young, we couldn't hide our swords, and though somewhat soiled, our clothes were nice. But I knew we stood out. I seriously wished Jace was here.
At the next corner, we turned and moved along the cross street. I glanced back. The stubbly stranger still followed him, walking fast enough to shrink the distance between them. He saw my glance and raised a hand, palm cupped. "Spare a ringer or two?" he asked.
I looked away. Taking out even a couple of ringers would reveal my stash. I imagined that if the people of this neighborhood knew how much cash we had on us, they would devour us like piranhas.
"Sorry," I said over my shoulder.
The man broke into a shuffling jog. "Wait up, friend. Where are you heading?"
"To the east side of town," I replied, unsure whether I should break into a run.
"East Carthage?" the man verified. "You took a bad turn, lad. This isn't a safe part of the city. You need a guide, or you're going to run into trouble."
My instincts warned that this man was the trouble. In a few more steps the man would catch up to us.
Drawing his sword, Cole stopped and faced the stranger, even though the man was head and shoulders taller than him. "Stay away from her." he said, his voice sounding firm.
The man raised both hands. "What's this? Are you coming into my neighborhood and threatening me?"
"Were not looking for friends or guides," Cole said. "Leave us alone."
The man's eyes switched to a spot above and beyond us. The man gave a faint nod. I looked back in time to see another man lunge at us. Jabbing my sword at a drooping balcony across the street, I spoke the command and jumped, Cole right behind me.
Hands reached for us, but they arrived too late. We took flight and barely cleared the scarred railing to land three floors above the ground. Both men gawked up at us from below, mouths gaping.
"You don't see that every day," the stubbly man said. "Who'd have guessed they were some kind of shapers?"
I flicked them off. One man glared at me, but the other man gave a dismissive wave and trudged away, shaking his head. They didn't seem to be partners. Acquaintances maybe. The other guy had sensed easy prey and had wanted in on the action.
Aiming my sword at the roof of the building across the street, we jumped there. From the higher vantage point, we had a better view of the area, though taller buildings blocked the sight of East Carthage. We ran along the roof and sprang to another building, then another.
It was freeing and exhilarating to watch the shabby streets breeze by beneath my feet, and for a moment, I actually let go of my anxiety and just enjoyed the sensation of soaring.
Who could catch us when we had our Jumping Swords? We worked our way toward a nicer neighborhood, not talking.
On the sixth roof, I noticed a woman watering her plants. She stared at us with wide eyes.
"Just passing through," Cole called, his voice friendly.
Her surprised expression turned scolding. "You're going to stab your eye out."
I laughed and jumped again, sword outstretched coward the next desired rooftop. What a crazy world it was where a woman showed more worry about us poking our eye out with a sword than she did about us taking fifty-yard leaps from one building to another.
We avoided major roads, sailing over side streets and alleyways instead. Even so, some people down below looked up at him, others spotted us from balconies or windows, and a few saw us from the tops of buildings. And those were just the people I noticed. In Sambria, the sight of a kid leaping from one building to another might not seem impossible, but it still attracted attention. I liked that the sword let us travel quickly, putting distance between ourselves and Ansel, but I knew we needed to get back to the ground. Everyone who saw us flying across the rooftops became a possible resource to those who wanted to find us.
We reached the intersection of two main boulevards. To proceed by rooftop, we would have to jump one of the teeming avenues, exposing ourselves to hundreds of eyes, so instead we backtracked and hopped down into a quiet alley.
Although the sun was climbing higher, it remained low enough for me to tell east from west. As as continued eastward, the buildings rose taller. Some were apartments or inns. Others looked like private palaces sandwiched into the city, their grounds confined behind iron fences or stout masonry.
Some of the buildings were a little more mysterious. A huge domed structure with many minarets might have bee a house of worship or a museum. A gray compound with thick towers, heavy arches, and crenellated walls could have served as a military headquarters or a prison. A light, airy complex with terraced gardens, elevated walkways, and huge-windowed buildings might have been a school or a library.
Much of the city looked how I pictured the Middle Ages. But some of the architecture felt a little more modern, and some didn't look much like anything I had seen back on Earth. One building was shaped like a pyramid, but with an open, pillared floor between each level, like stacked patios.
We passed a windowless black monolith with no visible entrance. Another structure seemed to be made entirely of stained glass, and bulged with overlapping bulbous shapes, reminding me of when he used to blow through a straw into a glass of milk until the bubbles overflowed.
As we got farther east, more of the buildings looked like they must have been constructed by shapers. Not only were their forms unusual, but many were seamless, as if carved from a single mountainous stone. Some exteriors were smooth with simple lines and minimal embellishments.
Others featured intricate facades. Autocoaches became more prevalent, and some of the shops mentioned renderings or semblances on the signs.
And then the city ended.
We reached a long greenway that paralleled a wide, slow river. The surface of the water was perhaps sixty feet below the level of the greenway, flanked by stone walls instead of
hanks.
If the architecture on this side of the river had been impressive, the other side looked absolutely unreal. The river wall on the far side was the color of storm clouds, with bright strands of lightning flashing across it on occasion.
Fanciful buildings rose to surreal heights, shimmering with electric colors. Huge shapes balanced on slender supports, and ponderous projections overhung empty space with no regard for the laws of physics.
"This is my kind of city." I said.
Cole let out a low whistle.
Mira had mentioned that the Ellowine enchanters worked with illusions. Though the buildings appeared completely solid, some of what we saw had to be deception.
Running north to south, the river effectively divided the city. I supposed that the far side must be East Carthage.
From where we stood, I could see two bridges spanning the river. Down by the water, docks protruded here and there on both sides. Workers wrestled cargo onto long, flat barges. Some of those docks might have ferries for crossing the river, but the bridges struck me as the surer option.
Turning north, we followed the greenway toward the nearest bridge. It was a pleasant walk. The strip of lawn and trees along the river provided a place for toddlers to play, dogs to fetch, old folks to sit, and many to stroll.
As the bridge drew nearer, I frowned. Crossing it
would be dangerous. If Ansel anticipated us going to Ease Carthage, the bridges would be the most obvious routes to watch. But East Carthage wasn't our only option. We could have went to the Sambrian countryside or some hiding place in West Carthage.
I wished we had more information. How many slavers did Ansel currently have at his command? Ham was in town. How many others? All of them? And how long would it take Ansel to mobilize them?
Since our encounter with Ansel, we had come east by the most direct route we could find, using the Jumping Sword part of the way. Even if Ansel had enough men to cover all options, we might be ahead of any pursuers. The more time went by, the more likely it was that Ansel could position slavers at key locations like the bridges.
I sped up, doubling checking that Coke was still keeping pace.
The impressive bridge was carved from the same dark green stone as the city wall. Decorated with friezes and traceries, it looked the same all the way across. Did that mean the border to Elloweer was on the far side? The elaborate bridge had minimal supports, so it had probably been made by shaping. Though wide enough for wagons, the span was packed with people on foot, about half heading east, half west. A pair of soldiers rode across on horseback.
Alert for familiar faces, I started across the bridge. Vendors lined the edges, their wares spread out on blankets.
They called out to the pedestrians, luring their attention toward melons, marionettes, sausages, and tiny wooden deer that walked around on their own.
On the Elloweer side, our best weapon would be rendered useless. I hated the possibility of getting chased with no Jumping Sword to help, but we had to get to the fountain, and the longer we waited, the riskier the crossing to Elloweer would become. I did my best to merge with the thickest clusters of people, Cole right next to me. We found a big man to follow and got close behind him.
At the midpoint of the bridge, I noticed a sign that read ELLOWEER in bright letters. Looking back, a sign facing the opposite direction announced SAMBRIA.
When we passed the ELLOWEER sign, for an instant I felt almost weightless, and tingles fizzed through me. My ears popped. Otherwise I felt no differently. The bridge looked the same. And the signs seemed to only mark the border. Maybe the bridge had been built the old-fashioned way. Or maybe the Elloweer side used an illusion to make it match the Sambria side. If so, it was very well done.
Peddlers and their blankets continued to border the bridge, but the merchandise was now incredible. One man had bowls of beautifully cut gems, ranging from the size of marbles to the size of eggs. Sparkling in the sunlight, they looked very authentic. Another man displayed an assortment of parrots with the brightest plumage I could have imagined. A third merchant hawked objects made of pure gold.
But since nobody else gave the exotic goods a second look, I figured they must be illusions.
Near the far side of the bridge I saw an act that made him slow down. A young man sat on a woven mat with his legs crossed. Holding one arm straight out, he clutched long bamboo for man started to climb the polesach the ground. An older man started to climb the pole while the young man continued to serenely hold it upright. The old man flipped himself upside down and balanced atop the pole on one hand. In front of the mat was a bowl with ringers in it. A couple of insistent kids bothered their parents until they each got a copper bit to donate.
Illusion or not, I had never seen a street performance to rival it, and I would have paused to add a ringer of my own if I had one handy. Instead, I picked up the pace again, head down to partly conceal my face, eyes furtively studying the crowd.
I tried not to show my relief as he walked off the far side of the bridge. Nobody had stopped us, and I had seen none of the slavers from the caravan.
The road from the bridge emptied into a large square. In the center of the square, fenced off by a low, crystal wall, eight marble statues of young women frolicked together with loose choreography, their movements graceful and carefree.
As I watched the prancing statues, I realized that their motions repeated about every minute and figured they were on an automatic loop.
The lofty buildings around the square competed for attention. One appeared to be constructed entirely of gold and silver. Another featured moving murals—monstrous figures engaged in fierce combat. A third rippled with ever-changing swirls of color, a prismatic display that made me think of molten rainbows.
Amazed by the sights, but anxious to get away from the busy area, I went down one of the lesser streets that branched out from the square. We needed to find the fountain with seven spouts, but had no idea where to start looking The east side of Carthage seemed just as sprawling as
the west.
Strange figures moved among the crowd, drawing less attention than I would have expected: a tall, graceful woman with the slit pupils and furry ears of a cat; a heavyset man with blue spikes protruding all over his body; a woman with feathery wings like an angel; a man whose head was way too large for his body. I tried not to stare. Their appearances could be illusions. Or maybe, like Twitch, they were truly different from regular humans.
"Hey, kids, try your luck," said a man seated behind a crate with a blanket on it. Short and trim with a neat little mustache, he spoke in a raspy tenor. Three upside-down cups rested on the blanket.
"Sorry, not today," Cole replied.
"Come on," the man said. "You're loaded. It's easy."
"We're not loaded," I said.
The man gave us a skeptical look and motioned us closer. We leaned in and the guy lowered his voice a little.
"You've got ringers tied around your legs, kiddo. You do to," he added, looking at Cole.
Feeling startled and foolish, I checked for obvious bulges in my boots. They looked all right.
"You didn't do a bad job," the man said. "Most people wouldn't notice. I've got an eye for details. What do you say? Give it a shot. Easy as picking up money off the street."
"None of our money is handy." Cole said.
"All that on your legs and nothing in your pocket
"Sorry," Cole said, turning his pants pockets inside out.
"Hm," the man said. "That makes you interesting the you've got a story. On the run or something? You two look a time young to be criminals."
"But not too young to take our money?" I said.
"A guy's gotta eat! What's your story?"
Cole shrugged. "Were just meeting up with some friends"
The man grinned, tapping his temple. "I get it. The friends wanted you to take some ringers from one place to another. No questions asked. You deliver the ringers, make a little for yourself. Am I right?"
"Something like that," I said.
"So you can't risk the ringers you're carrying." the man said. "In a way, you were telling me the truth. You're broke until you make your delivery."
"Pretty much," Cole said.
"I don't suppose you'll come back this way after you get paid," the man mused.
"We can't afford to risk the money," I said.
"How about a freebie?" the man suggested. "It's been slow today."
I glanced down the street in the direction he had been headed. I didn't want to get roped into some sort of con.
"No strings attached," the man assured us. "Pick a cup."
"Okay." Lifting the middle one, I uncovered a translucent blue marble. "Now what?"
"Replace it."
I covered the marble.
The man smiled. "I haven't touched anything yet. Only you did. Agreed?" I gave a nod.
"You watching?" the man asked. Sliding the cups with no great haste, he switched the middle cup with the left one.
"All right. Guess where the ball is."
I pointed at the left cup, which had been in the middle.
"Want to bet that money you're carrying?" the man asked. "If you're right, I'll double it. You can deliver their share and keep yours."
"No thanks," I said.
"You sure? I'm good for it. Final offer."
"It's not mine to bet," I said.
"Fair enough," the man said. He lifted the cup on the right. There was nothing beneath it. The cup in the middle had nothing as well.
"Try the one you chose."
Picking it up, I revealed a small bird with brown feathers and a yellow breast. The little bird hopped twice and then flew away, tiny wings flapping.
"I had a feeling I would have lost," I said.
Grinning, the man quickly turned over the cup on the right and handed it to me. The cup was full of blue marbles. "Trust those feelings, kid. When something looks too good to be true, it is. All the locals know better than to get involved in a shell game. I set up near Gateway Square to welcome the visitors, teach them a practical lesson or two. I haven't seen you two around. New to town?"
"Pretty new," Cole replied.
"Tell me about these guys you're working for," the man said.
"We don't really know a lot about them," Cole said. "They te kind of mysterious."
The man sighed. "Life in East Carthage."
"Hey, maybe you can help us." I tried. "We're looking for a fountain with seven spouts.
"What's it worth to you?"
"It would save me some time. It's part of the delivery process. I haven't gone around counting the fountain spouts."
"You think I do?"
"Maybe." I said. "You said your good with details. I could mention your help to the guys I work for."
The man gave us a pensive stare. "You two seem like good kids. You're trying to make some extra ringers. I can appreciate that. You want Lorona Fountain. It's a long walk, but not complicated." He gave us an explanation that involved four turns. "Got it?"
Cole repeated the directions back to him.
"Good," the man said. "If you come to know and trust these people, tell them I helped you. Until then, be careful. Taking ringers from one location to another may seem like easy money. But when something looks too good to be true . . "
"I hear you," Cole said. "Thanks for the advice. And the directions."
"Around your chest might be better," the man said. "For the ringers. You can hide any bulges under enough layers to mask them."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cole said, starting down the street.
"That was risky." I said, catching up to him.
"I know," Cole said. "But at least we got directions.
The farther away we went from the river, the less fanciful the buildings appeared. Although I continued to spot bizarre people, the city itself began to look more normal.
We came to Lorona Fountain without missing a turn. The fountain served as the centerpiece of a modest plaza bordered by narrow streets and the plastered walls of residential buildings. Four cherubic statues played in the basin. Three of the pudgy cherubs clutched a shell in each hand, while the central one held a single shell over his head. Unlike some of the other statues I had seen in East Carthage, these were stationary. Each shell sprayed water.
The man had been correct. This fountain had seven spouts. Hopefully, that made it unique in East Carthage.
I didn't see any of our friends. I felt a jolt of worry. What if something had happened to them? Shouldn't they have had time to get here first? I supposed we had hurried quite a bit with the Jumping Sword. What would we do if they didn't show up? I became acutely aware of how little I wanted to explore the five kingdoms on his own. In a foreign place like Elloweer, I would feel totally adrift.
Not wanting to look too conspicuous, I went leaned against a tree. Cole laid down on a bench and instantly fell asleep. I rolled my eyes. That kid could sleep anywhere, under any circumstances.
Someone put there hands over my eyes. I squealed and jumped before realizing who it was.
"Guess who?" Jace said.
"Hey, rope boy." I said facing him with a smile.
"Any trouble?" He asked.
"Not at all. Just that the slaver that sold me and Cole to the Sky Raiders threatened to hunt us down and cut of our hand with our freemarks and drag us back to the Sky Raiders in chains."
He made a cute face by scrunching up his nose. "Wow, slavers are hard core."
"Mhm. Should we wake him?"
"I have a better idea." He said with a sly smile.
Jace walked over to Cole. "Get out of here you vagrant!" He said in a gruff voice by Cole's ear.
Cole jumped up, obviously startled. He fumbled for an apology but stopped when he saw Jace grinning at him.
"You need a new joke." Cole said, rolling his eyes.
"I'll get one when this stops working," Jace said. "You're pretty casual for a wanted man. Pleasant dreams?"
"Just trying to fit in," Cole said. He looked around. His eyes met mine. He looked skeptical, but didn't say anything.
"Where are the others?" He asked.
"Not far," Jace said. "I booked us a few rooms nearby. We can't wander the town with people after you guys. We'll stay near here until Joe shows up."
"Ansel saw us," Cole reported. "The slaver—he came after us."
"I know," Jace said. "Twitch kept an eye on you. He told us you guys escaped with the Jumping Swords."
"He knew that?" I asked.
"Twitch is pretty sneaky," Jace said. "After watching your getaway, he caught up to me and Mira like it wasn't much trouble."
"Ansel promised to hunt us down," Cole said.
"Sounds like a great reason for a public nap," Jace said. "Come on."