Roar (Stormheart #1)(19)
The streets smelled of some unidentifiable muck, and houses leaned together as if holding each other up. Surely people in Pavan didn’t live like this. Rora edged closer to Cassius so that she didn’t fall behind again. When he stopped again under the flickering glow of a swinging lantern, he glanced backward and she was luckily covered by the shadow of a building.
The lantern squeaked in the wind on the silent street. Too silent. It was late, but there should have been some noise … people moving in their houses, a crying babe, a barking dog. Something. Light shone on the familiar hard angle of Cassius’s jaw, then he dipped his head and disappeared into a building. Rora gathered her cloak up in her fists, and ran. Skidding to a stop beneath the lantern, she faced a set of stairs and a boarded-up door of a deserted building. Frowning, she approached and pushed against the wood. It didn’t budge. Feeling around the frame for any hidden latches, Rora came up empty. But just outside the frame on the side of the building was something carved into the wood.
She ran her fingers over the grooves and followed the way they fanned out from a circle in the center. It reminded her of the way water in a tub swirled after the plug had been pulled. A storm. She wasn’t positive what kind—a hurricane, perhaps? Pavan was landlocked, so she had never seen one in real life, but she had seen illustrations of the monstrous swirling beasts.
Her fingers traced again over the carving, following it all the way to the edge. She expected to run into the next building, as it was clear when she looked up that the two were attached, but instead her fingers found open air. She leaned over the edge of the stair railing, and found a small gap that had been boarded up to make the buildings appear connected at a glance, but left enough space at the bottom for a person to duck beneath.
That must have been where he’d gone. The gap was small, and so dark she would not have seen it if she had not been looking. It must have been difficult for Cassius to fit. She felt ill with nerves as she approached the passageway. But she had to know what was on the other side. As her mother said … better the beast you know.
She squeezed through the opening. She had to shuffle sideways for about ten steps, then the tunnel widened. Twenty paces ahead, there was a faint blue glow in the darkness. Her stomach roiled like a tossing sea, but she continued forward. The eerie silence of the street at her back gave way to a dull roar that developed into voices as she neared the exit.
“Wind charms!” one cried. “Tie it on your laundry line and never lose another garment.”
A gruff male voice said, “Firestorms! Rare and potent!”
She poked her head outside the tunnel, but immediately pulled it back. There were people everywhere, more than a hundred, walking through narrow lanes of merchant stalls. Slower this time, she poked her head out, and when she didn’t see Cassius, she slipped out of the passageway.
It was a market, like the open-air one in the shopping district. But this one was far from open. The backs of buildings formed the border of the market, leaving a long rectangular gap hidden from the streets. A black cloth had been stretched overhead, providing further seclusion. Lanterns were strung up around the edges and down the aisles. But they didn’t hold fire inside. They glowed an eerie blue and contained … skyfire—dozens of thin branches of light that split and stretched toward the glass like the roots of a tree. The lightning was frozen inside the lantern.
It was not unlike the chandelier that she loved so much in the great hall. But she had never seen storm magic like this outside the palace.
“Need a lightning lantern?” An older woman stood at Rora’s elbow, her skin weathered and dark, her voice a gravely whisper. “Guaranteed to stay lit for one year. Buy two and I’ll cut ye a deal.”
Rora shook her head. “No, I—no, thank you.”
“Ah, ye sound like a pretty young thing. A skyfire necklace then? I’ve got one that’s exactly like what the princess wore to meet her new prince. A lil’ smaller, of course.”
The woman picked up a chain, and it had miniature crystals that fanned out just like the one Rora had worn. The center crystal had been painted ruby red to mimic a firestorm heart.
“No, thank you.”
“Sumthin’ a bit more extravagant, then? I’ve a talisman that would protect ye from all types of storms for one week. Ye could go anywhere, see anything, and never have to fear that ye might not make it home. Or perhaps ye have an enemy? Maybe a nasty husband who beats ye? Is that why ye got so much of ye face covered? I’ve just the thing! A powder made from the heart of a firestorm. Sprinkle it in his food, and he’ll burn from the inside out.”
“No need to burn people from the inside out, Etel. This one is with me.”
A large, masculine form pressed into Rora’s side, and a heavy arm draped over her shoulders. The old woman straightened. She scowled and spit on the ground, and when she spoke, her tone was higher, less raspy, “Ye could have told me that, Locke, before I wasted me time.”
Rora froze. Cassius. He’d found her. She had been so distracted by the woman and her wares that she hadn’t thought to keep watch. He pulled her forward, and her feet dragged like lead. She couldn’t take a deep enough breath, and her eyes began to cloud with tears.
What have I done? How will I explain this? What will he do to me?
“Come on, girl. I’m doing you a favor getting you away from that fraud. You could at least play along.”