Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1) (21 page)

“Yes! Get out now!” the guard yelled as he stumbled away from them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The door hit the wall with a bang. Nat and Soris flung themselves onto the landing above the kitchen. Taking three steps at a time, they raced past Beatty. She dropped a stack of dishes as they ran by her. Crockery showered over the stairs and splintered into hundreds of pieces on the kitchen floor.

“What in the blazes?” Beatty said as she surveyed the crockery strewn on the floor. “You get back here—” Her threats met an empty kitchen.

Nat and Soris raced through the pungent courtyard behind the kitchen, retracing their steps down the alley. Soris grabbed Nat as she hurtled into the lane beyond the bricked-in garbage enclosure. A carriage rolled by, missing her by inches. “Watch it, there!” the driver yelled at them as they rounded the back of the carriage, pushing through the thick crowd.

Soris pointed past the edge of the crowd to a narrow, uncongested lane. Nat took his hand and they dived into the mass of people. A small fountain bubbled in the middle of the next intersection. “Down here.” He steered her toward an alley. They zigzagged through a series of alleys and backstreets until Soris stopped short behind a crumbling brick wall covered in vines. He bent over, breathing hard.

“How are you?” she asked, cautiously touching his back.

He coughed. “Give me a second.”

Nat looked up the alley. No sign of anyone. She peered over the vine-covered wall. Other than a scraggly chicken pecking at a pile of dirt, the small yard was empty. She leaned against the spongy vines and observed the few recessed doors that lined the alley.

Soris stood and spit in the road. He wiped his mouth. “All that for nothing.” He spit again. “It was a crazy plan from the start, but at least we got away.” He put his hand on her shoulder. She glanced at his hand and smiled, waiting for him to finish before she shared the good news. “Don’t feel bad, Sister, we’ll figure something out.”

“But I did it, Soris. I put suix stone all over the map and the little orbs faded. It worked.”

His jaw dropped. “What was all the crashing and banging, then? One minute I was yelling, and the next minute it was like an explosion coming from next door. When the Chemist heard the noise, he dropped a vial and ran outside. I figured something had tripped you up.”

Two guards passed the entrance to the alley. Soris pressed Nat against the wall. His hands tightened around hers, and she felt his heart thudding against her chest.

“It’s clear,” she whispered in his ear. His cheek brushed hers when he looked down the alley. “I’ll explain what happened when we’re away from here.”

He nodded and loosened his grip on her hands. Her fingers lingered in his as they jogged down the alley. “Where’re we headed?” She skirted an enormous rat rummaging in a pile of garbage.

“I think it’s too risky to go back to the bookstore. You saw the crowds at the entrance to the street. We need to find a way to get out of Rustbrook.”

Nat nodded in agreement, then paused in front of an iron gate and peered through the bars. “What about our clothes? I didn’t notice any other bastle herders in the crowds today. We stick out like a sore thumb.”

Soris put a finger to his lips and pushed gently against the gate. It gave easily and swung open into the back courtyard of a three-story house. He pressed his arm against Nat and waited. No voices, no barking. They passed through the gate.

“How’s this for a new set of clothes?” he asked, grinning at a tall pole with branch-like arms standing in the middle of the courtyard. Shirts, sheets, underwear, and tunics hung from the wooden arms. Soris pulled a pair of blue pants and a dark-brown tunic from the drying pole and tossed them to Nat. “Use the ties on the sleeves, they should hide your markings.”

Nat turned the clothes over and examined the long tabs on the sleeves. She glanced up just as Soris pulled off his tunic. His chest was pale and broad. He looked up to find her staring. “What, did the spear tip get me? I don’t feel anything.” He craned his neck, checking for gashes.

“No, you don’t have any cuts.” Feeling foolish, she stepped behind the drying pole. When her legs were free of the wrappings, she pulled on the loose blue pants. Her brown hair fell around her shoulders as the last of the wrappings dropped from her face to the ground. She had no choice but to unhook her cloak to put on the tunic. She slid it over her head and fumbled with the sleeve ties.

“Need some help?” He slid his hand under her forearm, and she watched as he expertly twisted and tied the tabs at her wrists even with a damaged hand. She inspected the swelling and noticed that the bright red lines around the porc-tree punctures had already faded. “You really did it? You really got the suix-stone powder on the map?” he asked as he tied the next tab.

“I did, but there was a woman in the room.”

“What woman?” He stopped tying the tabs and looked up with concern.

“I don’t know who she was, she just appeared. One minute I was alone, the next she was right behind me, then she was throwing books and glass across the room. As bizarre as it sounds, she seemed to want to help. She warned me to get out before the Chemist found me. I don’t know, Soris, it’s hard to explain. It was like she went crazy breaking stuff to cover up for me so the Chemist wouldn’t know I’d been in there.”

“But what if she tells him? She saw you near the map—”

“She was ripping that room apart and destroying everything. I didn’t get the sense that she was working with him.”

He furrowed his brow and finished the knot. “I’ll have to ask Gennes, maybe he knows who she is.” He held her wrist. “Too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.” She pulled her wrist away. “What about your face? I haven’t seen many bare chins around here.” He wore a dark-green tunic, a blue vest, and breeches, but nothing to hide his lack of beard. He rubbed his jaw, then looked at the laundry. He pulled a short hooded cape off a low pole and swung it over his shoulder. Nat couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I think that’s for a child.”

“Oh.” He replaced the cape and reached for a long sash. “Here.” He handed it to Nat. “Wrap this around me.” She obediently wound the long sash around his neck and layered it until it covered his lower cheeks and chin. She bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and gently rubbed it in below his cheekbones. She stood back and examined her work. The dirt looked like the edge of a beard from a distance. If he kept his chin in the sash, it would work. “How’s it look?” he asked, tilting his head toward the sky.

“Better than the cape. What do we do with these?” She held up the wrappings and her cloak.

“There’s a garbage bin down the road. We’ll stash them there. I think our best plan is to blend in with the crowd and try to get out through the main gate.”

“You want to go into the crowd?” she asked as they jogged over the uneven cobblestones toward the reeking garbage bin.

“We don’t have much of a choice. We’ll be noticed for sure if we try to leave by the dock.” Soris lifted a wooden lid off a garbage bin and shoved in their old clothes. Nat used a stick to flip rotten lettuce and grayish clumps over the clothes. He slammed the lid shut. They hurried away and merged with a stream of people moving down what Nat recognized as Wesdrono Street. She paused as they passed a store vestibule. It was the same one where she’d seen the orb earlier in the day. It was dark and empty. She shook her head. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. If Mudug was going to hang a Sister today, this would be the last place any Sister would want to be.

They pushed through the crowd. Sweaty bodies pressed up against her as they approached the square. A couple of gossiping women cut her off from Soris.

“Heard the Sister told the Nala where those unguarded traders were traveling,” said a thin woman with a ruby-colored kerchief tied around her head.

“I heard that, too. And the Nala killed them all, each and every one of them. And to think my dear husband used to believe he was safe with a Warrior Sister guard. Probably just luck he never ran into a pack of Nala. We need more of Mudug’s guards traveling with the merchants.” The woman clutched a stained cloth to her breast and bumped into Nat.

“Excuse me,” Nat mumbled as she pressed her right arm tightly to her side and passed between the women. She kept her head low until she caught up with Soris. She tugged at his hand. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She looked around. They’d come up behind the newly constructed gallows. The crowd had grown in size. The air was heavy with the smell of pine and unwashed bodies. Nat spotted a short iron fence between the flow of people and the wide windows of a cheese shop. “Over there,” she said, pointing to the fence.

“I’ve never heard of him having an apprentice. What did she look like?” Soris asked, his mouth pressed against her ear as the crowd squished them together.

“What?” she asked as she tried to squeeze past a man with a small child on his shoulders.

“The woman in the room with you. What did she look like?”

Before she could answer, a woman pushed past them and tried to climb onto the narrow ledge of the fence. She tumbled to the ground. Her legs were too short and her skirts were too heavy. “Boost me up, will you?” the stranger asked Soris, motioning to her posterior. “I can’t see a thing and the Sister is coming.” She grasped a bit of protruding brick on the adjacent wall. Soris looked at the overly wide drape of her skirt. “Well, come on. Push me up,” she demanded. He shrugged and hoisted her onto the ledge. She wobbled back and forth, then pointed down the street. “There she is!”

The crowd parted, pushing Nat and Soris against the brick wall. A rough wooden wagon pulled by a lumbering draft horse passed in front of them. The Sister stood in the center of the wagon with her long, muscular arms tied to a post above her head. The sleeves of her tunic had been ripped off, revealing the delicate markings of a vine and a sword. Nat shifted from side to side, trying to get a better view between the heads blocking the way.

“Traitor!” Someone in front of Nat hurled a potato toward the Sister.

“I never thought I’d see a Sister from a Warrior House trussed up like that,” the woman said, looking down at Nat and Soris. Nat tucked her arm close to her body, praying her sleeve stayed in place. “Hard to believe the Sisters are in cahoots with the Nala, isn’t it?” She looked at Soris for affirmation. He ignored her and clasped Nat’s hand. He pointed to two rows of castle guards following the wagon. Nat recognized one of the guards from Mudug’s hearing room. She ducked her head and followed Soris. He stepped over the fence and behind a graying tree trunk. She stuck close to him and kept her eyes trained on the ground.

“Watch it!” a man looming in front of her yelled. Nat scuttled back. “You just stepped on my foot.”

“Sorry.” She maneuvered around him. They inched around the perimeter of the square toward an opening between two buildings. Nat squeezed Soris’ hand to keep from getting separated.

“Coming through. She’s about to vomit. Give her a little air,” Soris barked. A small void opened and Nat hurried to his side. She held her hand to her mouth. They were met with looks of revulsion and distaste as they continued toward the entrance to the alley. When their progress slowed, Nat made a retching sound and the path cleared again. They pressed through the crowd blocking the alley. The farther down the alley they went, the fewer people they encountered. Children, trying to glimpse the wagon, clung to window ledges projecting above them. The wagon rolled past. Soris’ scarf hung around his chest and Nat swiftly wound it back into place.

“Thanks. Let’s get—” His eyes grew wide. Nat turned. The end of an arrow sank into the top of the wagon post, splitting the rope that bound the Sister’s hands. Another quickly followed. Nat traced its origin to the top of the limestone building they’d just passed. Cries erupted as arrows rained down from the buildings fronting both sides of the alley. A sword dropped from above into the wagon. Flashes of silver exploded in the air. The crowd surged toward them, fleeing the arrows. Soris led her down the cobblestone alley ahead of the mob. They sprinted onto a main street, and a cloaked figure flew across a rooftop in front of them. People poured out of alleys like sand from a broken hourglass.

“Forget the main gate!” Soris yelled. “It’ll be shut before we get there.” He changed direction and they skidded down the slippery walkway leading to the dock. When they reached it, they found it deserted except for two guards stationed near the entrance. Cries and shouts erupted from the main gate. The two guards abandoned their post and ran to the center of the action. A handful of guards strained against the main wooden gates, trying to close them as the crowd streamed past.

“Here, untie this.” Soris threw a thick rope in her direction. He jumped into a skiff tied up next to a wide-bellied cargo boat. She fumbled with the rope, untying it from the rusty dock ring. She jumped in as Soris rammed a long pole against the dock. They pushed against the cargo boat until the tip of the current caught the skiff and propelled it down the river away from the gates. Soris pulled a canvas tarp from the bow and flung it over Nat. He crouched next to her in the shadows under the tarp. Cries echoed down the river, and the river slapped against the side of the boat.

After a few minutes of silence, Nat lifted an edge of the tarp. The castle and Rustbrook disappeared as the skiff rounded a bend. Soris dug through a pile of long poles resting in the center of the boat and pulled out a cupped oar. “Take this.” He thrust a pole into her hand. She sank the long pole into the water while Soris steered the boat to the far shore. When the pole hit mud, she strained to free it from the ooze and then set it closer to the boat again.

As they neared shore, a delicate smell filled the air. Slender white flowers covered the riverbank. Nat planted the pole as close to the flowers as she could and pushed the boat toward land.

“That’s enough. Jump out,” Soris commanded. The pole clattered against the wooden hull. Nat joined Soris in the knee-deep water. They shoved the skiff up the bank, crushing the flowers. “Unless they caught the Sisters, this river will be filled with boats in minutes.” He scrambled up the slick rocks and damp moss and grabbed the bow. “We have to move the boat farther in so no one can see it.” Nat glanced upstream and then pushed and shoved with Soris until the skiff lay hidden beneath the low bushes. Voices mixed with the sound of the river.