Small Magics (54 page)

“There’s nothing there!” George hissed.

“Yes, there is,” Thomas hissed back. He reached the edge and dropped his bag off it. There was a
thud
almost immediately. “Come on!”

They came. Eileen first, then George taking up the rear. Thomas pointed to the flat roof he had dropped his bag on, some ten feet below. “Keep your knees bent and try to fall quietly,” Thomas said.

“Oh, no problem,” George muttered. He dropped his bag, took a big breath, and launched himself off the roof. He hit hard, but managed to keep his balance and didn’t seem to hurt himself. He got to his feet and held out his arms for Eileen. She tossed her own bag down, then jumped into her brother’s waiting arms. Thomas took a deep breath himself and jumped. He hit and collapsed, letting his knees take the shock, then shoved himself to his feet. He grabbed his bag. “Come on!”

He led his friends across the flat to a place where the roof sloped steeply upward. Thomas pointed to a door set deep in the side of the roof. “That’s the way in.”

“What is this place?” asked Eileen.

“Another apartment block. They’ll raise a cry if they see us, so move fast.”

“Is the door open?”

Thomas tried the handle, and cursed. “No, it isn’t.”

“Does it open in or out?” asked George.

“In.”

“Good.” He stepped forward and rammed his shoulder against it. There was a splintering sound and the door flew open.

“Stay low,” Thomas crouched and led the way into the low attic on the other side of the door. It was dusty and had beams running across it at the perfect height to brain somebody. Little of the pre-dawn light reached inside, and they had to move far more slowly than Thomas would have liked. Several times Thomas felt cobwebs brush his face as they moved towards the narrow, rickety stairs at the far end. The sounds of people moving about and talking came clearly through the wood beneath their feet. Thomas prayed it was just a reaction to the noise next door and led his friends in a dash down the staircase.

The hallway below was as dark as the attic above. Thomas ran down it, George and Eileen hard behind him, passing a dozen doors Thomas feared would spring open at any moment. He found the stairs at the far end. Thomas took them two at a time until they reached the ground floor and another hallway with double doors open to the street beyond. Thomas made them stop just before they reached the doors. He stepped to the doorway and peered gingerly around the corner. It opened on a different street from his own apartment, and there was no one in sight.

Thomas led his friends through the city streets at a run. Behind them, the clash of weapons and screams of horses and men ripped into the oncoming dawn. In the buildings around them, Thomas could see curtains being pulled back and lights being lit as people tried to see what was happening. A company of soldiers, dressed in the livery of the City Watch, hastened down the street.

Thomas and his friends flattened themselves against a wall and let them pass, then ran again once they were by.

They put a good number of blocks between themselves and the apartment, turning and twisting down half a dozen different side streets before Thomas allowed them to slow down. The sun had broken the horizon, spilling light into the streets and rousing the citizens. From houses all around came sounds of movement. Shutters opened in the buildings around them, as the city’s residents began their day. Thomas picked an alley and led his two friends into it. They stood there, panting with exertion.

The Academy’s alarm bell started ringing, the harsh tones carrying through the city. Thomas could still hear the sounds of the riot faint in the distance.

“Do you think it will spread?” Eileen asked, between gasps.

“Aye,” said Thomas, “but not this way. The bishop’s house is in the other direction. If it goes anywhere, it will go there.”

Thomas, making certain there were no windows above him for someone to drop the contents of their chamber pot on his head, leaned against the wall. Eileen did the same, while George just squatted down on the ground, hunter-style. Outside the alley, the city was well awake and people were starting to come out of their houses. The three stayed where they were, dragging air into tired lungs and letting their hearts slow down.

A fair while later George rose to his feet. “So, now what?”

“We find a way to get a message to the others and tell them we’re all right,” said Thomas. He listened closely and found he could still hear the riot over the noise of the waking city around them. The Academy’s bells were still ringing, the peals rising over the city and calling the students to action. “Then we get some horses and ride out of here as fast as we can.”

“What about Henry and Benjamin?” Eileen asked. “Aren’t we going back for them?”

The idea of leaving his friends behind sickened him, but Thomas knew there was no choice. “No. If we go back, we’ll be arrested for witchcraft and they’ll be arrested for harbouring a fugitive. If we stay away, they can claim that I was never there.”

In the street beside the alley, neighbours were greeting one another and wondering at the noise. A few heads turned towards the three in the alley, but no one stopped what they were doing to stare, or called out an alarm. Still, Thomas started to feel nervous. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll find some breakfast, then a stable. They usually have boys who can run a message for you, if you pay them.” A terrible thought crossed his mind. “You do have the money, don’t you?”

George snorted. “I wasn’t that scared.”

Thomas found himself smiling in spite of his fear. “I should have known. Come on.”

They put their bags back on their shoulders and stepped out of the alley. Thomas picked a direction and led them away. It took some time before they found themselves on a major street, and a long walk before they found a bakery. The Academy’s bell kept ringing, and others were joining it. Thomas recognized them as the bells of the City Watch, and wondered how bad things were getting.

At the bakery, they bought buns and pastries and Thomas made inquiries, learning that there was a stable three blocks and a couple of turns away. They ate as they walked, all the while keeping nervous eyes out for any signs of the bishop’s guards. Thomas walked with one hand on his sword, scanning the crowd around them for any sign of danger. When he met his friend’s eyes he could see his own fears mirrored there.

More troops dressed in the city’s livery went by, headed for the student quarter. Thomas stepped aside with the rest of the crowd, letting them pass, then continued leading the others towards the stable. George, who had spent half his life dealing with horses and horse-traders, listed off what they would need, and estimated a price. Thomas whistled when he heard it. The money they had would cover the cost twenty times over, but the amount was still a shock.

They found the stable quick enough and, under George’s instructions, left him to go in alone. It was a long, long wait, and the bells kept ringing. Thomas paced back and forth, desperately nervous and anxious to get away.

“What is he doing in there?” he finally asked Eileen. “By the time we get the horses, we could have walked there.”

“He’s making a bargain,” Eileen said.

“Well, I wish he’d hurry up.”

“He’ll be done as fast as he can,” she snapped, “and he’ll save you a lot of money.”

Thomas just about snapped back at her, but managed to quash it. Instead, he went over to her. Eileen was pale, her eyes wild, and her short hair stuck out in all directions. She looked a terrible mess. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“What do you want me to say?” Eileen demanded. “That I’m scared and I want to go home?”

“It’s what I’m feeling,” said Thomas, reaching out a hand for hers. “I was hoping someone else felt the same.”

She slumped, collapsing in on herself like a weight was pressing her down. He stepped closer, putting his arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m frightened.”

“I know,” Thomas squeezed her gently. “Me, too.”

He left his arm around her while they waited. At last, George emerged from the stables with three very good looking horses, complete with saddles, bridles, and saddle bags. There was also a boy with him, who Thomas guessed was to be the messenger.

George waved them over, looking very pleased with himself. “How do you like them?”

Thomas, though he didn’t know horses too well, thought they looked good and said so. Eileen, on the other hand, practically crowed over hers, a brown mare with a white blaze on her head. “She’s absolutely gorgeous,” she took the bridle and petted the horse’s nose. “Does she have a name?”

“Aye,” said George. “Fred.”

Eileen’s eyebrows rose. “Fred?”

“Aye, Fred.” George watched as Thomas took the bridle of the second horse, a black, shaggy looking stallion, with a proudly arched neck and a rather wicked gleam in its eye. “That one’s Biter.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Thomas had an image of losing a pair of fingers on top of all else that had happened and made certain his hands were away from the horse’s mouth. “How about yours?”

“Mine?”

“Well, it’s the only one left.”

George sighed. “Flower.”

“Flower?” The horse in question was also a brown mare, but with no distinguishing markings whatsoever. “Why Flower?”

“She likes to eat them, apparently.”

Thomas turned to the boy, who was fidgeting. “Are you going to be our messenger?”

“Aye, if you’ll give me the message.”

“The message is…” It took a while to put it together in a way that wouldn’t incriminate either himself or his friends. “The message is that I’ve gone to the summer house and I want them to wait until I get back.”

“And who are you?”

“They’ll know. Got it?”

“You’re at the summer house. Wait until you get back.”

“Right. Now, you know the Academy?”

“Where all the layabouts are?”

George snorted, Eileen snickered, and Thomas let it pass. “Aye, that would be the place. There’s an apartment nearby it, and my friends live there.” He gave explicit directions, then handed the boy two coppers and promised that Henry would pay the same when he got the message. The boy dashed off and Thomas turned to his friends. “You both know how to ride, I take it?”

“Oh, aye,” Eileen said. “Not any long trips, but half the time, people would leave their horses with Father and we’d ride them back.” She handed George Fred’s bridle and reached into her bag. “I’m going to put breeches on, if I’m to be riding all day. Otherwise I’ll be chafed raw.”

“Fair enough,” Thomas agreed. She put them on under the skirt; a process which she managed without showing the slightest bit of skin. Thomas, despite all his other worries, found himself watching with amusement. When she was done, he turned to her brother. “How about you?”

“Same as her, not any long trips. You?”

“It’s been a fair while,” Thomas admitted. “My father taught me how to ride, but I haven’t done it since I started the Academy.”

“We’ll all be stunningly sore by the end of the day, then,” said George. He put a foot in the stirrup and pulled himself into the saddle. Eileen did the same. Thomas, the last up, managed a fairly competent mount, much to his own surprise. His happiness was short lived as his horse attempted to pick the direction they were going. Thomas got the beast under control and, turning it around to the other way, led his two friends out of the city at a walking pace.

The streets were lively now, and they had to be careful not to run anyone down as they guided the beasts through the crowd. The Academy bells were still ringing, and while many people commented on it, no one in the area seemed to know why. Thomas, glad neither the news nor the riot had spread this far, kept his friends moving.

They rode across the river on the great bridge, past the warehouses and taverns and shipyards, heading for the coast road. The cobblestones of the city streets ended abruptly, though the houses continued, looking less and less well-kept, until they were riding past the shanties of the city’s poor. Men and women and children tried to sell them food or wine or animals, or cried for alms as they rode past. Thomas didn’t slow down.

They left the last shanty behind and were soon surrounded by open farmland. Thomas kicked his horse to a canter, and the other two followed suit, leaving the ringing bells behind. The road led them south along the coast. Dozens of carts were headed into the city, farmers with loads of produce or animals. None took notice of them. Merchants sitting on much nicer carts also rode past, their wares covered with canvas sheets or crated in wood. Off the sides of the road, Thomas could see the men and women working in the fields, or readying boats to go out on the water. They rode past them all without slowing.

By late morning, they had left the crowded parts of the road behind, and were riding alone down the coast. Thomas had been keeping his eyes ahead, not wanting people to notice him watching for pursuit. Now, he risked a look behind. What he saw made him rein in his horse, the animal protesting at the abrupt stop. George and Eileen did the same, and turned in their saddles.

A plume of black smoke was rising into the sky over the city.

“What do you think it is?” asked Eileen.

“I don’t know,” Thomas felt a cold rage building inside him. “Nothing good.”

For a moment he wondered how much smoke the Academy would make if it were on fire, then put the idea aside. The Academy had not been at the centre of the riot, and the students would not let anyone put it to the flame. He wondered about his apartment, and if his friends might be trapped in the blaze.

“They’ll be all right,” said George, who must have sensed Thomas’s thoughts. “I’m sure.”

I’m not,
thought Thomas. Still, there was nothing he could do. “Come on. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Chapter 26

They rode in silence through the morning. Thomas’s thoughts were dark and best kept to himself. He had no idea what his companions were thinking, but neither of them ventured any conversation either.