Secret Seller: Prequel to The Famine Cycle, an epic fantasy thief saga

4: The Pyrthaen Apothecary

Half a turn later, we entered the weather-stained door of the Weeping Hills. It wasn't situated on the finest of Bazaar streets, but it was a clean and well-maintained establishment. Decorated in the dreary Avvadin style, its ceiling was composed of slats of nearly black wood, and red tapestries hung from its walls. The clientele was similarly Avvadin, with fezzes, turbans, and beads adorning the heads of men and women, as well as a number of beards. The plates were chipped, the utensils tarnished, and while the visitors didn't appear to be paupers, the wear of their clothes left much to be desired. An out-of-the-way inn, perfect for a man to hide unnoticed.

I cast a look around, but as expected, I didn't see our apothecary in the main living area. Time for a bit of investigation, then. I glanced at Nomusa. "You ready?" I muttered.

"When am I not?" she whispered back.

We approached the innkeeper's counter, where a portly man with red and silver beads hanging from his mustache sat scratching in a ledger. He glanced up at us without much interest — until, that is, Nomusa leaned over the counter. While she hadn't worn robes any more licentious than usual, her usual left enough skin exposed to draw the eye of most men, and a number of women as well.

"Hello there," Nomusa said in a low voice, her eyes locked onto the innkeeper.

The man ogled her, his eyes traveling up and down her figure almost reluctantly. "Yes?" he asked uncertainly.

Her hand traced over the countertop, inching closer to where he sat on the other side. "I have something I need."

The innkeeper swallowed. "And what would that be? A room, perhaps?"

"Aren't you a forward one?" Nomusa arched an eyebrow at him.

The man flushed and spluttered, "But I didn't mean—"

"I am teasing, of course," Nomusa interrupted smoothly. "I am, however, here to seek the company of another man. One of your patrons, Eazal, sent a bird for me. Apparently, he is in need of some... comfort."

The innkeeper's eyes wandered to myself and Xaron standing behind her. "Ah. But what are your companions here for?"

"To safeguard my virtue," Nomusa said in a lightly barbed tone. "If you could but tell me which room he is staying in, we'll leave you to your... ledgers."

Innkeeper looked from one of us to the other, finally landing on Nomusa. "I'm afraid I cannot do that," he said, the words seeming to cost him. "Without permission, I do not give out the location of my guests. My apologies, hanim."

But he had told us more than he knew. I hid a smile. The Guilder had told the truth. Our apothecary was here.

Nomusa sighed dramatically. "Come, then," she said to Xaron and me, and she swept across the common room. I felt the eyes of the innkeeper as well as many of his patrons upon us as we crossed the floor to the stairs. I expected the various strongmen across the room to stop us, but not one of them shifted as we ascended the stairs. Whether it was because of Nomusa's lingering influence on the innkeeper or a lax security, I could not tell.

Once we were on the floor above, we stared down the cramped hallway that continued in either direction, dingy doors lining the walls. Stairs led up to a third floor with assumedly even more rooms. I sighed. We were so close to Eazal, yet locating him among these rooms — and convincing him to open the door — might prove more difficult than the first step.

"I did my part," Nomusa said, crossing her arms. "Someone else will have to figure out how to find him."

Xaron screwed up his eyes in concentration for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "Wait. I know something I could try."