《I, Mor-eldal: The Necromancer Thief》57. Looking for a bearded fly

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57. Looking for a bearded fly

As Little Wolf had very short legs, we did not go very fast. When we reached Tarmil Avenue, I realized that I did not know where to find Kakzail. If I had thought of it earlier, I could have asked Le Bor… But I hadn’t. So I was left with three options: either ask after Kakzail at the police station, or go back to Le Bor, or… go to the barber shop. I dismissed the first option immediately as very unpleasant, the second out of laziness, and the third out of apprehension. Fortunately, I had a fourth option.

I walked up the avenue to the Esplanade. The two o’clock bells were already ringing when I started to climb the big staircase that led to the Capitol. It was the first time I had ever entered there. My main purpose was to seek out Yal, for I had come to the conclusion that, without a doubt, Kakzail had inquired about me with him, and surely Yal knew where to find the gladiator. As I entered the huge main hall, however, I remembered the map that Swift had told me about two weeks ago, and seeing it there, so imposing, I hastened to approach, half dragging the little one behind me, who in turn was dragging the Master.

The map took up an entire wall. It was breathtaking. It started at a height of about two meters and extended to the roof. It took me a moment to understand what it represented. And I was disappointed to see that the names of the cities were written with Owram signs. It was hard to understand, but wait a minute! There, under each name, a smaller version appeared, translated into Drionsan. I squinted, read “Okbot,” and already feeling dizzy from lifting my head so much, I lowered it and said to Little Wolf:

“This map sucks.”

Mostly because the town of Okbot was in the left corner of the map and was part of Prospaterra while the Storm Hills were supposed to be further away. Conclusion: they weren’t on the map. I looked at the golden edges with some fear, wondering how far the Storm Hills were from Estergat. I glanced around and met the eyes of an official who was watching me. He walked towards me, unhurriedly, perhaps thinking that I was going to run away from the Capitol. Instead, I approached him.

“Sir, ayo. I’m looking for my cousin. He works here as a secretary. His name is Yalet Ferpades.” Seeing that the official’s face didn’t light up, I clarified, “He works with papers and stuff. You know him?”

At last, my interlocutor pointed out some tables where people were being welcomed.

“Wait there, and someone will take care of you.”

I nodded politely.

“It runs.”

I had just sat down on a bench with Little Wolf when I recognized a figure that made my hair stand on end. It was not Korther, nor Frashluc, nor the Black Hawk… It was Lowen. He was dressed like a little gentleman and was listening absent-mindedly to the conversation of a group of adults, among whom was a human woman in a pretty white and blue dress and a large yellow hat. I couldn’t see her well, but by the way she looked, I could tell who she was. Lowen Frashluc’s mother.

‘If you speak one word to the kid, if you look at him, you are dead.’

The Albino’s warning rang in my head like an alarm, almost as insistently as the bong of the mine did when I was hungry. I pulled up the collar of my coat as much as I could, covered my face with my left hand, took Little Wolf with my other hand, and initiated the retreat with all possible discretion. Then that isturbagged Little Wolf began to pull me from the other side.

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“Little Wolf!” I hissed.

Little Wolf was crying. He hadn’t had time to pick up the Master, whom he’d set up so nicely on the bench. I glanced desperately at the group of nail-pinchers, and we quickly returned to the bench. I took the Master, handed him to Little Wolf, and whispered:

“We’re dashing outta here.”

I lifted him in my arms and trotted towards the exit. I was almost at the threshold when a surprised voice called out:

“Draen?”

My heart skipped a beat, I sped up and braked all at once when I came upon a dark elf dressed in the Swallow’s uniform. It was Yum. Damn. I couldn’t just run out now without even greeting my former workmate, could I? Struggling not to turn my head towards Lowen, I cleared my throat:

“Hey, Yum. Long time no see.”

The dark elf looked at me and Little Wolf curiously.

“Three weeks at least,” he agreed. “We haven’t seen you back at the office. Did you get another job?”

I shook my head.

“I got very sick. And then… I thought the director must have fired me already.”

Yum huffed.

“That, no doubt he has. He fired you a long time ago. That’s unfortunate. If you’d sent a note saying you were sick, maybe he’d have thought twice about it.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, skeptically. “The director had taken a dislike to me.”

“Mmph. On the contrary,” Yum assured. “No offense, but not everyone agrees to hire a foreign kid fresh out of prison. Bosses don’t like trouble. Like they say, put your head down and they’ll put a bag over your shoulders, don’t put it down and they’ll cut it off,” he quoted, his expression fatalistic. “Well, I have to keep working. Whenever you like, drop by the Esplanade, in front of the manticore, about seven o’clock. We always get together around that time; the usual gang, you know. In case you feel like chatting. Have a nice day.”

Smiling, he ruffled Little Wolf’s hair. The latter, hoisted between my arms, was staring at him with his blue eyes. I snorted and smiled.

“Ayo and thank you for the invitation,” I replied.

Yum waved as he put his hand to his cap and hurried toward the inner stairs of the Capitol. The Swallow at your service, I muttered mentally. Well, come to think of it, I wasn’t sorry I’d given up the courier service: it barely gave me enough to eat, so it wouldn’t have been enough to feed Little Wolf, and I wouldn’t have been able to help out at night with Swift. Now I was living like the Patron Saint.

I was about to resume my silent retreat when suddenly I saw Yal appear at the back of the room with a cart full of boxes. The lady from Frashluc was still talking… And Lowen was looking at me. The little nail-pincher had recognized me. Blasthell, and what did it matter. I turned and walked eagerly towards my cousin. With people coming and going, Yal didn’t see me until I tugged on his sleeve and said:

“Hi, Yal.”

He stopped short and looked at me, his eyes round with surprise.

“Mothers of the Light,” he pronounced at last. He glanced around before signaling his cart. “I’ll hand these out and be right back. Don’t move from here, eh?”

I nodded, and finding that Little Wolf was half asleep, instead of putting him down, I went and sat down in the nearest corner without letting go of him. When I looked back towards the Capitol entrance, I saw neither Lowen nor his mother. Well… Breathing more quietly, I waited wisely for Yal to return. Perhaps a quarter of an hour later he reappeared, and not seeing me at once, huffed in exasperation:

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“Don’t tell me he’s gone…”

“I’m here,” I said. I tried to wake Little Wolf up, but it was to no avail: he did not want to walk, he was tired.

Yal looked me up and down as I stood up. He breathed in.

“Well. I asked for a few minutes break. Let’s head outside. You know Kakzail has been looking for you for almost half a moon?” he added as we headed for the exit.

“Precisely,” I said. “I’m looking for him too.”

Yal arched an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Really?”

“Well… I figured if he’s looking for me, it’s because the alchemist found the cure, right?” I reasoned.

Yal looked at me with a startled expression, shook his head, and without answering, he went out. I followed him, somewhat bewildered by his silence. The ash continued to fall, and though the sweepers cleaned it several times a day, the Esplanade was grey. Carriages kicked up clouds of dust, and sajits bustled about, some chattering, others getting off omnibuses or walking briskly without hardly looking around. If they had, they would have seen the bands of gwaks, slipping through the crowd like tadpoles in a turbulent river. They would have seen the cripples gathering near the Great Temple to reach out to the merciful. And, well, they would have seen my world. A world that interested them no more than a handful of ashes.

I blew away a large piece of ash which fluttered before my eyes and followed Yal. Instead of going down the staircase, my master took the wide walk along the front of the Capitol and sat down on an isolated bench. He took out a snack from his pocket, looked up at me, and said:

“Tell me how you could do this, Mor-eldal. Tell me how you could do this to Korther.”

His voice was neither dry nor accusatory; it vibrated with disappointment and disbelief. I looked away and sat with Little Wolf in silence. It didn’t surprise me that he was talking about this: I knew he would. It was plain as day he would. And yet… I was so hoping that Yal wouldn’t push me away like Korther had… I swallowed my nervousness as best I could.

“Frashluc was holding Rogan prisoner,” I explained. “I had to save him.”

Yal let out a sardonic laugh.

“Save him, ah, sure. Look, we all make mistakes, but yours was just epic, Mor-eldal. How can you have the idea of bringing that gang leader’s grandson into your own kap’s office? When I heard about this, I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know where to put myself. And I once told Korther that you were a promising kid… merciful spirits. And then you disappear without even making the effort to come and see me. Look at me.”

I turned my head towards him and looked him in his eye. I felt contrite, irritated, and relieved all at once. Contrite, because I had disappointed my master; irritated, because he was bringing up a subject I didn’t want to talk about; and relieved, because… well, because I was happy to talk to my cousin, even if he did give me a shout-out. A scolding now and then was even comforting. Even a good spanking could be. Unfortunately, Yal wasn’t very good at lecturing. He resumed in a calmer voice:

“Have you ever asked yourself what you want to do with your life, Mor-eldal? Look at me,” he repeated. I looked up again. He, with the snack still intact in his hands, continued: “You live on the street, I suppose. Probably with a bunch of gwaks, and with that little one… With Manras, Dil, and the Priest you saved like a hero. All right, Draen. Tell me truly, where will you go from here? What are your plans for the future? I’m asking you seriously.”

I looked at him without replying before I realized that he was really waiting for an answer. So I bit my lip, shook my head and said:

“I want to do what you did. I want to go to school. I want to learn. I’m… I’m saving up nails so… uh… I can go to school,” I lied.

I don’t know why I told him that lie. I think because I wanted Yal to look at me with a little more consideration. Immediately, it seemed ridiculous, I ran a hand over my face and rectified, ashamed:

“No. That’s not true. I don’t have a nail.”

Yal looked at me with that look on his face that seems to think, “What in the world is this gwak telling me?” I let my hand fall back, and nervously changed the subject.

“I regret very much all that with Korther. He wouldn’t even see me. He chased me right out. Rolg says, if the kap sees me, he pops me off. And if I talk to Lowen, Frashluc will pop me off. It’s a good thing you can’t be popped off twice. I’d have to turn into a lich for that. Liches always die twice. That’s what my master said…” I huffed. “Damn. Every time I think about it… I’m such a pathetic loser. The funny thing is that, right now, things aren’t so bad. I earn my living. I earn enough for the karuja. And… if it’s true that the alchemist found a cure, I could save up for good, to go to school. And then I would go, I swear. Even my cronies would go too. To learn. And…”

I swallowed and fell silent. Yal said nothing; he was chewing his snack. After a long silence, he swallowed his last bite and commented:

“I see you landing at Carnation in a peace-and-virtue, sari. Well, I have to get back to my office. Kakzail works as a security guard at the Grand Gallery. He is on the day shift. You won’t have any trouble finding him, I suppose. Give him my regards.”

He stood up and shook the ash from his hat before adding:

“If I were you, I’d listen to the adults a little more. Kakzail, for example. And your parents. Maybe you hardly remember them, but think of them raising you for almost six years… They’re your parents. If anyone has a duty to help you out, it’s them. If anyone wants to do you any good, it’s them.”

At my surprised expression, he gave me a slight, embarrassed smile and gestured toward the Capitol entrance.

“I have to go, really. If you’re ever looking for me, I live right there in that house with the green shutters. See it?” He pointed to a building that stood at an angle to the Esplanade. “Second floor. Number three. But, if you come, come alone, okay? Don’t come with the whole gang, I know you.”

I nodded, my heart sinking.

“Natural, Elassar. Thank you.”

My master looked at me with an expression I could not quite make out. I only understood that he was not angry with me. To my surprise, he reached out a hand and ruffled my hair. A cascade of ashes fell.

“Take care of yourself, sari,” he told me gently.

I smiled and watched him walk briskly away to the entrance of the Capitol. When he disappeared, I turned to the sleeping Little Wolf, I held up an ashen finger to his cheek and drew three black dots on it, then the same on the other. I laughed softly and whispered in his ear:

“Cat gwak, beware, the Master will devour you!”

And, taking the doll, I pretended to devour the little one to wake him up.

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