Slippery Paths

Martel did not require map or markings for the first leg of the journey. With only one direction to travel in, he continued down the familiar path that led to the pipework of the Lyceum, flowing into the sewers. As he reached that point, he had to make his first decision. Several tunnels branched from here, though the choice seemed easy. He remembered where Julia had appeared from the first time he met her, so he went that way. Still on familiar ground – he could undoubtedly find his way back to the Lyceum from here – he did not use his map or chalk just yet but continued going, happy that his mask protected him from the surrounding stench.

It could not protect him from other dangers, though. As the waters of the sewers occasionally rose during heavy rain, they left the ledges serving as pathways both slimy and slippery. More than once, Martel almost lost his footing. While falling into the water would probably not hurt him, he did not wish to conduct his search drenched in filth. It might ruin his clothes as well, and he doubted the quartermaster would be pleased about having to replace them.

After a while, his next decision arrived, this one more challenging than the last. He had arrived at a crossroads with three other tunnels besides his own, small grate bridges connecting them across the waters.

Martel looked at his map, trying to ascertain the cardinal directions. He believed that he had been walking west and south so far. Assuming that was true, the tunnel to his left should lead towards the market district; he assumed that since Julia had chosen to appear at Emperor Lucius' square, that was the most likely location to find her. His choice made, Martel took his chalk and left a large mark on the nearest wall to show where he had come from, letting him track his way back when the time came.

~

On occasion, Martel heard something scurry about ahead of him in the dark. Using his ability to sense the heat, he could always tell that nothing other than rats kept him company; nothing big enough to be a human, not even an underfed girl.

It was difficult to keep track of time, walking underground in surroundings that looked the same regardless of distance, but he began to feel foolish. Judging by his map, he had only traversed a small part of the sewers, but he had seen nothing to indicate where Julia might be. It was clear to him that he could not hope to search all of the underground tunnels before night had ended, even if he could not be sure how long he had left until sunrise. Loath to admit it, Martel started entertaining thoughts that he should abandon his search.

Stubbornness kept him going. Especially the thought of paying Weasel five silver pieces with nothing to show for it. Going as far south as he could, assuming the winding tunnels had not led Martel astray, he decided to turn east towards the bridge district.

The water flowed differently in this part, perhaps because it fed into the river east of the city. Martel was not sure if the two connected; he probably should have paid more attention when Mistress Vana explained the subject some months ago. In his defence, it was difficult to predict that Martel would have need of such knowledge.

~

Every now and then, the tunnels had these small side chambers, little more than alcoves, where water flowed down from above to join the main passageways. Soon after noticing the first of these, Martel had not paid them much attention until he realised that if you made your home in the sewers, such a place might be where you would rest your head. He began checking each of these as he passed them, annoyed at himself for only realising this now. It also cost him extra time, as they sometimes lay on the wrong side of the water flowing in the middle of the tunnels, forcing him to find a crossing and go back if he wanted to be thorough.

It paid off. After investigating perhaps dozens of these alcoves, he came across one containing more than just a pipe. On the ledge inside the alcove lay a large piece of cloth. Ragged, damp and dirty, but serviceable as a bed or blanket for someone making their home in this place. A few other items cluttered the place as well, looking like debris; Martel was not tempted to take a closer look.

Clutching to this find, hoping it proved that his search was not in vain, Martel stepped back into the tunnel. "Julia?" he called out. "It's me, Martel. I'm worried about you."

He received no answer except for silence. Accepting this, he continued.

~

Walking a while, about ready to turn back and head home, Martel saw a light ahead. He almost shouted in hopes it was Julia when he remembered their first meeting. If she lived down here in the dark, she probably did not carry a torch around; she would not have the tools for one anyway. Dousing his magelight, Martel retreated softly as he saw the glow ahead approach.

His eyes confirmed his fears. A pair of inquisitors headed straight towards him. He could try and hide in the nearest alcove, but if they happen to look into it while passing, they would definitely see him. He could turn and run, but trying to do so in the dark, he would surely slip and fall or probably lose his way. He could light a flame again, but that would just draw their attention and make it easy for them to pursue him.

Martel tried to suppress his rising panic; he knew that his presence would seem suspicious to them, a pair of zealots with distrust of mages in their bones. At the very least, they would drag him away, probably lock him up in the office of the Inquisition for a day or two, causing all sorts of trouble for him at the Lyceum. He tried to keep retreating, hoping to keep enough distance between them and himself to stay out of the ring of light from their torch. Looking at its flickering fire, the solution finally came to him. Reaching out with his magic, he simply extinguished the flame.

"Crud!"

"What did you do?" asked the other inquisitor.

"Nothing! Wind must have blown it out."

"The wind? Underground?"

"Spare me the remarks. Here, hold the torch while I get my flint out."

Step by step, careful not to make any sound, Martel slowly inched away.

"Just get it lighted. We've already searched half the eastern sewers, I'm ready to go home."

"Don't remind me," groaned her partner. "They'll just send us back tomorrow for the other half."

"Waste of time. I told the high inquisitor we ought to start to the north, underneath the Imperial palace, but no, it had to be here."

Martel stopped in his tracks. Perhaps he might glean something useful before he left.

"North, east, it doesn't matter where these sewer rats are. They live here in the dark. As soon as they see us coming with torches, they scatter. We'll never get to interrogate any of them about the maleficar." The sound of flint striking tinder could be heard with little sparks lighting up.

It took Martel a moment to realise, the rats in question were people like Julia, not actual rodents.

"We have to keep trying. Judging by his pattern, last victim from the copper lanes, he'll strike next to the north, east after that, and so on."

The male inquisitor managed to light the torch, and Martel figured he had pushed his luck far enough. Reaching out again, he extinguished the torch a second time and made his retreat.

~

Tracing his steps back, Martel considered what he had learned. The maleficar was still active in Morcaster, or at least the inquisitors assumed so. Furthermore, he had left enough victims to establish a pattern. This only made Martel all the more convinced that he had to do something. Whether he might find Julia or the dark wizard first, he could not know; regardless, his course of action remained the same. He would have to return tomorrow night.