Renica stayed close to me as we walked up from the harbor, her stress and anxiety clear on her face. Vikarik stalked beside her, head hung low, a low growl rumbling in the cairnik’s throat. I knew that the dog’s aggression stemmed from Renica’s nervousness, and part of me wanted to tell her to relax, but I knew that would never happen. Mihabag was simply too big and boisterous.

People crowded the harbor streets. Merchants rode in small, covered carts pulled by burly men; dockworkers and heavy wagons lugged cargoes along the cobbled roads; laborers in rough clothing and sailors in tarred cotton strode side-by-side. The seamier side of the city was present, too; I saw several kids in ragged clothing scurrying through the crowd, chased by shouts of, “Thief!”, while unkempt beggars stood near street corners, wailing piteously for alms.

Stone buildings with wood-shingled roofs towered over us, pressed together so that one building shared the wall of the next. Overhanging roofs plunged the narrower side streets into dark shadow, making them look ominous and foreboding but also strangely beckoning. Most of the buildings had been painted white, with orange and gold accents, although a few had light brown or even pink trim. No building stood less than two stories that I saw, narrow in the front and extending far to the back, with narrow windows on the first floor and larger balconies up higher.

And the entire city continued to set off my Sense Imbalance ability. The tightening in my stomach only grew slightly stronger as I left the Eye and stepped into the city, but it never vanished, either. Whatever was wrong pervaded the entire city. Every building seemed slightly off-kilter to me, as if they leaned a tiny fraction even though my eyes assured me they didn’t. The roads looked wrong, twisted in a way I couldn’t explain, and something in the air tickled my nose, a scent that didn’t quite belong but that I couldn’t place.

Not that my nose lacked things to smell. The people pressed close around us, their bodies sweaty and unwashed, and the tightly packed buildings funneled the only breeze directly up from the harbor, bathing the street in the stench of rotting fish and mud. Shouts rang in my ears as people called out to one another, heedless of those around them, and as I barely avoided another pile of cerbak droppings, I looked longingly at the quiet, dark alleys.

At the same time, part of me joyously sucked in the experience. Mihabag might have been a large city by Soluminos standards, but it was a small one compared to those on Earth. It was densely packed, though, and I exulted in the chaos and cacophony. At least, it did until I felt a light touch on my leg.

I lashed out, and a boy of about ten cried out as my fingers wrapped around his wrist, seizing it firmly. “Let go!” he whined, trying vainly to pull away. “Help! Someone, help me! He’s trying to kill me!”

I ignored the kid and looked around; this wasn’t my first rodeo, after all, and I knew how a distract-and-grab worked. I drew my belt knife with my left hand and threw it, the hilt thwacking against the shoulder of a girl maybe a year or two younger than the boy who’d been sidling up close to Renica while she watched the kid struggling in my grip. The girl cried out and fell on her butt, clutching the red mark on her bare arm and rubbing it.

“What are you doing to my sister?” the boy hollered. “Don’t kill her!”

“I’m not killing anyone, kid,” I sighed. “However, if you keep yelling, the guards will come to see what’s going on, and they might have a different opinion.”

The boy fell silent instantly, and I dragged him over to stand beside the girl. I picked up my dagger and slid it back into its sheath. “Better,” I told him.

“We’re sorry,” the girl whined. “We’re just hungry, and our mother’s sick…”

“And your father beats you, and your uncle’s a drunkard,” I finished. “I get it. Your life is tough. I’m not here to make it tougher. In fact, if you’re willing to do something for me, I’ll pay you for your time.”

The girl’s face went white, but she nodded slowly. “I–I can do that, sir,” she said. “Just–just don’t hurt us, and I’ll do whatever you want…”

“Hell no, nothing like that,” I assured her hurriedly, my distaste plain in my voice as I realized what she was implying. “I just need a guide, is all.” The fact that she went there so quickly told me a lot about her life, though, or at least the lives of the underprivileged in the city. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know more.

“I can take you wherever you’d like, sir,” the boy said quickly. “Silver a day, and I’m your man!”

I laughed. “For a silver a day, I could buy ten of you,” I replied. “However–I’m new to the city, and I don’t know much about what’s going on in it. You know, what places to avoid, what people not to anger, which groups to make friends with. That sort of help would be worth a silver, easy. Is that something you can help me with?”

“Absolutely, sir,” the boy nodded enthusiastically. “Why, Melania and me, we was born and raised here, lived every day on these streets. We know who can be bribed and who can’t, which inns will rob you blind and which are safe. Tell us what you need, and we’ll take care of it for you!”

“Good. We were recommended to a place called the Leaky Galleon…” Seeing the expression on the boy’s face, I stopped. “I take it you disagree?”

“It’s not a bad place, sir–a bit noisy and rough, is all. Lots of sailors, you know, and they get riled up after a couple days rowing up the Fell. If you want something quieter and safe, I’d say the Limping Cairnik, I would.”

“And what will the owner of the Limping Cairnik give you for recommending it?” I asked with a grin.

“Some bread and broth,” Melania spoke up, then fell silent as her brother glared at her.

“That’s fine,” I told him. “However, if there’s an actual better place you can take me, I’ll buy you both a full meal for showing it to me.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “A full meal? A hot one?” she asked excitedly. “The Dripping Knife, sir, that’s your place. It’s out of the way, so not many know about it, and the owner’s an old soldier, so no one gets out of line.”

“Melania, you’ll get us in trouble,” the boy hissed. “If Mistress Sorana finds out you’re recommending other places…”

“She’ll give me a beating, Ferka,” the girl shrugged. “If it gets me a meal, I don’t care.” She looked at me. “It’s this way, sir, ma’am.”

We followed behind the kids, who led us farther down the avenue away from the harbor. The avenue ran in a straight line toward the distant Great Cathedral that loomed over the city. Other spires and towers speared the sky around it, which I assumed meant that was where places like the palace were, but it dominated the skyline, the only building constantly visible as we walked. We crossed through a shaded side road out onto another avenue that also seemed to run directly toward the Cathedral. Two avenues later confirmed my suspicion: every major street radiated like spokes away from the Great Cathedral.

The Dripping Knife stood three stories tall, made of the typical, white-painted stone. The iron-banded door looked stout and secure, and no sounds except quiet music and low talking echoed from the slightly open windows.

“This is it, sir,” Melania said. “The Dripping Knife. You’ll be happy here, you will.”

“Thank you,” I told her. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a few coppers. Ferka reached for them, but I held them aloft. “This isn’t your pay,” I warned him. “This is so you can go get a bath and some decent clothing.”

“A bath, sir?” he asked quizzically.

“Yes. You want your meal, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Melania said quickly.

“Well, do you really think anyone is going to serve the two of you the way you look–and smell?” I asked, shaking my head. “You know they’ll just toss you out the moment they see you. Go get cleaned up and dressed, then come back here, and I’ll give you your meal.”

Ferka looked at me suspiciously. “How do we know you’ll really feed us?” he demanded.

“You don’t,” I shrugged. “However, if you’re worried about it, take what I’ve given you and do what you want with it. You’ll lose out on the silvers I’d give you for the next few days, but you won’t have to worry about wasting that on a bath and some clothes. It’s your choice.”

“Come on, Ferka,” the girl begged. “I haven’t been clean since the last rains! And a meal, sitting down like proper folk!”

“Fine,” Ferka grumped. “But if you trick us, we’ll tell every light-hand and cutpurse in the city to go after you, we will!”

“And if I feed you, will you tell them I’m off-limits?” I grinned. “You know, so they don’t steal from the hand that’s feeding you.”

“We will, sir,” Melania assured me. “Come on, Ferka. We’ll go to Artur’s place; he’ll get us fixed up in no time!”

The children darted off, and I opened the heavy door leading into the inn, stepping into the darker room and pausing for a moment to let my eyes adjust. The room we entered was long and open, with honey-colored wooden floor and walls. A dozen tables dotted the room, about two-thirds of which were full. Stairs across the room led to a closed door. A slight pall of smoke hung in the air, coming from either the kitchen I could see through the open door beside the stairs or the fireplace directly to my right. In a far corner, a young woman sat with what looked like a wide, short violin, drawing the bow across the strings and filling the air with quiet music.

“Hello, ma’am, sir,” a young man carrying several wooden trays with steaming food atop them said brightly. “Welcome to the Dripping Knife.” He hesitated on seeing Vikarik at Renica’s side. “The animal can’t come in, I’m afraid. You’ll need to stable it, first.”

“The animal is perfectly harmless, and a companion to my sister, here,” I said, pulling out a couple of copper coins and holding them up. “I’m sure you can accommodate her, right?”

The man hesitated, then nodded. “Of course, sir. Please, take a seat at any open table.”

I led Renica to a table away from any windows and took a seat with my back to the wall. We waited for a couple minutes before the young man returned, smiling openly. “Good day sir, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for dinner and a place to stay for at least a few days, maybe longer,” I replied.

“Rooms are three coppers a night; food is four coppers a person per meal, which includes bread, meat, vegetables, and water. Beer and wine are two coppers more a mug.”

“What sort of meat?” Renica asked curiously.

“Tonight, Petar’s cooking a vasak haunch, ma’am.”

“I’ll have dinner and a beer, please,” I said, pulling out six coppers and setting them on the table. “And we’ll go ahead and resume a room for a week, just to be safe.”

“The same for me,” Renica said, producing her own coins, then reaching down and patting Vikarik. “And some meat for my friend, please.”

“Right away, sir, ma’am.” The man scooped up the coins for the room but left the money for dinner sitting on the table as he disappeared.

“This city is...” Renica shook her head. “Confusing,” she finally finished.

“Confusing how?” I asked.

“There are so many people,” she said, shivering slightly. “So many emotions–it’s a little overwhelming. Everyone’s in a hurry, and they’re all convinced that they’re doing the most important things.” She shook her head.

“That would be overwhelming,” I nodded.

“Those children–they got so excited about the idea of getting a meal. What kind of a place lets children be that hungry? Or that dirty? And were they trying to steal from us?”

“There are a lot of people here, Renica,” I shrugged. “Too many for anyone to know all of them–or take care of them all. Some people get lost and forgotten, like those kids. And when you’re starving, you’ll do anything to get your next meal, even if you know it’s wrong.”

“No one ever starved in Borava,” she sighed. “Or stole, really.”

“Because in a village of a hundred people, it’s too easy to figure out who’s doing the stealing,” I grinned at her.

“That’s true. It wouldn’t have been easy to hide something like that, especially when the Sorvaraji could have cast an augury to see who did it if she had to.”

“Exactly.” I stopped speaking as the server returned, bringing two mugs of beer and a couple of small loaves of dark, steaming bread that smelled delicious. I thought about casting my Purge spell just in case, but I decided that might not be the best idea in the capital, practically next door to the Cathedral and, I assumed, the Vanatori. Plus, what were the odds that the server would want to drug two random people out of everyone in the tavern? Instead, I took a tentative sip of the beer, finding it slightly hoppy and with a nutty taste that wasn’t unpleasant but didn’t really appeal to me. It wasn’t bad, though, so I took a moderate sip and set it down, cutting off a chunk of bread.

“So, what’s our next step?” Renica asked as she finished a larger swallow of her beer, obviously enjoying it more than I did. “Are we going to look up that man the Sorvaraji suggested?”

I chewed and swallowed, washing the bread down with another sip. “Maybe,” I hedged, glancing around at the room. No one was really close, but a couple people were near enough that they could hear us over the music if they really tried. “However, we don’t really know anything about the guy. For all we know, he could be who we’re looking for.”

“What do you think we should do then? I don’t think we can just walk into the Cathedral and start looking around, do you?”

“We could, in fact. If it’s like the one in Panja, it’s open to anyone at any time. However, that’s not likely to get us very far. Whoever we’re looking for has to be keeping what they’re doing hidden, after all.” I stopped once more as the young man returned, putting down three plates of food and handing me a keyring with two keys on it, one brass and one dark iron.

“Here you are, sir, ma’am,” he said, scooping up the coins on the table, as well as the three extras I offered him. “Your room is the third on the left, top floor. The brass key unlocks your room; the iron one unlocks the main door leading upstairs. Breakfast is available from an hour before sunrise to three hours after; lunch is served an hour before Highsun to two hours after.”

“What about bathing?” Renica asked.

“There’s a bathhouse three doors down toward the Cathedral, ma’am,” the man smiled. “Will there be anything else?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

We ate in silence for the next little while. The meal wasn’t great but was good and filling. Ferka and Melania appeared about fifteen minutes later, peeking their heads in the door shyly. I told the server they were with us and ordered them both a meal–with water instead of beer–then tried not to watch as they devoured it about as sloppily and messily as I could imagine, ignoring the utensils and shoving the food into their mouths with their fingers. Grease ran down their wrists and chins, and crumbs quickly covered their plain but new clothing.

“Well, so much for those baths,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“They still smell better,” Renica pointed out.

“They almost couldn’t smell worse,” I chuckled.

After the kids finished eating–and people stopped staring at them in mingled awe and disgust–I leaned forward and looked at the dark-haired Ferka. “I have a message I’m supposed to deliver to a place called the Archives,” I told the boy. “Any idea where that is?”

“Of course, sir,” he nodded, belching loudly a moment later, drawing more irritated or outraged looks from those around us. “Those are inside the Great Cathedral, they are. I’ve seen them once before they chased me out. Lots of books and papers, but nothing worth bothering about.”

“You’ve been to them?” I asked, shaking my head. “They just let you wander around the Cathedral like that?”

“I don’t know that I’d say they let me, sir. I just sort of did it, and no one caught me until then.”

“We go into the Cathedral all the time,” Melania piped up. “It’s warm in there, and sometimes they leave the doors to the acolyte rooms open, so we can sneak in and sleep inside for a change.”

“Where do you usually sleep?” Renica asked in a horrified voice. “When you can’t get in the Cathedral, I mean?”

“Wherever’s safe, ma’am,” the girl shrugged. “In the dark streets if we can find a place to hide in them. Sometimes down in the sewers if it’s not raining so hard that the river floods them.”

“Attics when it’s too cold or during close moons,” Ferka added. “Most people leave their windows open, and it’s not that hard of a climb if it’s not too icy.”

The woman looked shocked, but I just nodded. “Would you be able to show me the Archives?” I asked the boy.

“I could, sir, but they probably won’t let you near the place, even with a message. That area’s off-limits to most, it is.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best, won’t we?” I smiled at the kid.

“When did you want to go, sir? In the morning?”

“Why wait?” I shrugged. “I’d rather get it over with, to be honest.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Renica asked, but I shook my head.

“You’d have to leave Vikarik–she stands out a bit–and I don’t think you want to do that.”

The hunter made a face. “Not really, no. What should I do while you’re gone, then?”

“Whatever you want. Maybe Melania can show you around or tell you more about the city–or show you a good place to stock up on crossbow bolts.”

“I know a place for that, ma’am,” the girl said eagerly.

Renica gave me a look that told me just how little she wanted to go back out into the city, and in response, I gave her a wide grin to let her know I knew that perfectly well. “Fine,” she sighed at last. “Show me this store, Melania. And don’t worry, Ionat–I’ll find a way to get you back for leaving me behind.”